“The tale is wrapped around the wonderful hallmarks of this series: a spirited heroine surrounded by zany characters, humor, and irreverence.”
—Romantic Times

“The latest Flower Shop Mystery is an amusing graveyard amateur sleuth that will have the audience laughing.”

—The Best Reviews

Acts of Violets

“Abby’s sharp observations bring laughs while the intriguing, tightly plotted mystery keeps you guessing.”

—
Romantic Times

“A delightful, lighthearted cozy.”—The Best Reviews

continued . . .

Snipped in the Bud

“Lighthearted and fast-paced, Collins’s new book is an entertaining read.”—
Romantic Times

Dearly Depotted

“Abby is truly a hilarious heroine. . . . Don’t miss this fresh-as-a-daisy read.”—
Rendezvous

“Ms. Collins’s writing style is crisp, her characters fun . . . and her stories are well thought-out and engaging.”

—Fresh Fiction

Slay it with Flowers

“Upbeat, jocular . . . an uplifting, amusing, and feel-good amateur sleuth tale.”—The Best Reviews

“What a delight! Ms. Collins has a flair for engaging characters and witty dialogue.”—Fresh Fiction

“You can’t help but laugh. . . . An enormously entertaining read.”—
Rendezvous

“Collins has created a delightful amateur sleuth.”

—
Romantic Times

Mum’s the Word

“Kate Collins plants all the right seeds to grow a fertile garden of mystery. . . . Abby Knight is an Indiana florist who cannot keep her nose out of other people’s business. She’s rash, brash, and audacious. Move over, Stephanie Plum. Abby Knight has come to town.”

—Denise Swanson, author of the Scumble River Mysteries

“An engaging debut planted with a spirited sleuth, quirky sidekicks, and page-turning action . . . delightfully addictive . . . a charming addition to the cozy subgenre. Here’s hoping we see more of intrepid florist Abby Knight and sexy restaurateur Marco Salvare.”

—Nancy J. Cohen, author of the Bad Hair Day Mysteries

“A bountiful bouquet of clues, colorful characters, and tantalizing twists . . . Kate Collins carefully cultivates clues, plants surprising suspects, and harvests a killer in this fresh and frolicsome new Flower Shop Mystery.”

—Ellen Byerrum, author of A Crime of Fashion Mystery series

“As fresh as a daisy, with a bouquet of irresistible characters.” —Elaine Viets, author of the Dead-End Job Mysteries

“This engaging read has a list of crazy characters that step off the pages to the delight of the reader. Don’t miss this wannabe sleuth’s adventures.”—
Rendezvous

“This story was cute and funny, had a good plotline [that] entwined a lot of interesting threads . . . an enjoyable read and a fine debut for this new mystery series.”

—Dangerously Curvy Novels

“A charming debut.”—The Best Reviews

“This amusing new author has devised an excellent cast of characters and thrown them into a cleverly tumultuous plot . . . a terrific debut!”—
Romantic Times

Other Flower Shop Mysteries

Mum’s the Word
Slay It with Flowers
Dearly Depotted
Snipped in the Bud
Acts of Violets
A Rose from the Dead
Shoots to Kill

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First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,
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First Printing, February 2009

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To all my friends in Key West—Jennifer at 7 Artists, Mary at Mary O’Shea’s Glass Garden, Nanci and Sandi: I thank you for your continuing friendship, support, and encouragement, and also for the inspiration for some of the art I describe in my books. You know what I’m talking about.

To my husband, Jim; my children, Jason and Julie; and my sister, Nancy: I know it’s a cliché, but I couldn’t do this without you. Thanks for brainstorming, reviewing, editing, inspiring, spreading the word, and generally putting up with my crazy schedule.

To my editor, Ellen, who continues to amaze me with her insight: I thank you for keeping my plots on the right track.

To Abby and Marco, Jillian and Nikki, Grace and Lottie, and all those other little people who chatter constantly in my head (and sometimes drive me up the wall): Well, let’s keep those stories coming, people! Don’t make me come in there!

To my readers, whose excitement keeps me charged up for the next adventure: I hope this book will make you eager for more.

CHAPTER ONE

Monday, January 31st

“
I
sn’t there a law that says public hallways have to be lighted?” Marco complained. “Now there are two bulbs out. How are you supposed to find your key in the dark?”

I stopped rummaging through my duffel bag to whisper, “You’d better keep your voice down or you’ll wake the neighbors.”

In a complete change of mood, my hunky, ex-Army Ranger boyfriend swept aside my hair to press hot kisses against my neck. “You didn’t seem to mind waking the neighbors yesterday, Fireball.”

“I didn’t
know
those neigh . . .”
Oh, baby.
His kisses were sending tingles to erotic zones I didn’t even know existed . . . and I thought he’d found them all. Hard to believe that less than a month ago, I was certain Marco and I were history.

Where was my key? I really had to get a smaller bag.

“Why don’t we go back to my apartment,” Marco murmured in my ear, “and extend our vacation another day?”

Now, there was an offer that was hard to refuse. Who wouldn’t want to prolong a romantic weekend with a hot-tie like Marco Salvare? He was all man, all the time, a guy who was both tough
and
sensitive, who could cook up a mean omelet and take down a killer all in the same day.

Besides, after our seven-hour red-eye flight back to Indiana from Key West, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to putting in a long day at the flower shop—I don’t do well on only a few hours’ sleep—but as Bloomers’ owner, I couldn’t ignore my responsibilities either. So as much as it pained me, I had to decline.

Abandoning my key hunt, I wound my arms around his neck and gazed up at him, his sexy brown eyes barely visible in the darkness. “I really, really wish I could, Marco, but you know how hectic Mondays are. And besides, Lottie and Grace are expecting me. But it’s a nice thought.” Almost too nice to let go.

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

Reluctantly, I released him to start rummaging again. “What time is it, anyway? Is it six o’clock yet? I still have to unpack, shower. . . .”

Marco ran his hands over my shoulders and down my arms, his body close to mine, the seductive aroma of his spicy aftershave calling forth sweet memories of our weekend. “How about that?” he murmured in my ear. “I was planning to shower, too.”

My fingers closed around the key at last and I pressed it into his palm. “You know what they say: Two can shower as cheaply as one.”

“I think we should test that notion right now.” He started to unlock the door, then paused. “Nikki will be asleep, right?”

“Déjà vu. You asked me that same question last Saturday night.”

“And the answer was?”

“Nikki is depressed and dateless. She’ll be sound asleep until noon.”

“
Sound
asleep . . . as in, nothing will wake her?”

“Except for smoke alarms.”

“Then we’ll have to be careful to not set them off.”

“Like we almost did Saturday night?”