“Of all the days in my life to be on Dru’s Book Musings, this is probably the scariest. I’m at Metairie cemetery in The Big Easy with my private investigator trainee, Ladonna Cuccuzza. Right now it’s midnight, the witching hour. Although, we’re not looking for a witch. We’re trying to find an ax murderer who killed a local grocer named Angelo LaRocca in his bed. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of the Axeman of New Orleans, but he was a serial killer who killed Italian grocery store owners in their sleep over a hundred years ago.”

Ladonna rose and dusted grave dirt from her leopard-print pants. “We don’t think he’s back from the dead, or anything. He’s a cawpycat killer.”

“She means ‘copycat.’ She’s from South Philly. Anyway, we’re searching for clues at the tomb of the jazz musician Louis Prima, because we think Angelo was killed for a trumpet Prima used to own. I don’t know if you knew this, but the Axeman of New Orleans was a fan of jazz. In 1919, he wrote a letter to the police claiming to be a spirit from hell who was going to kill anyone who wasn’t ‘jazzing it out’ the next time he passed through town. There’s even a song about it called ‘The Mysterious Axman’s Jazz (Don’t Scare Me Papa).’”

Ladonna pushed red curls from her eyes. “Tell them about the Mardi Gras Indian.”

“Oh, right. When I was in Angelo’s bedroom on the floor above his grocery store, I looked out the window at the courtyard below and saw a carnival reveler in a suede suit decorated with beads and yellow-and-orange ostrich feathers. There are at least sixty Mardi Gras Indian tribes in New Orleans, and they wear costumes inspired by Native American ceremonial dress. And the man I saw was holding a tomahawk, which isn’t the kind of thing one should bring to the scene of an ax murder.”

Ladonna chuckled at the Angel Gabriel statue on top of Louis Prima’s tomb.

“What’s so funny?”

“I keep thinking about your Nonna saying that she doesn’t want you to give the Angel Gabriel as your wedding favor because she’s afraid she’ll have to wait for him to blow his horn before you finally make it to the altar.”

I gritted my teeth. I really needed to talk to my best friend and boss, Veronica, about her hiring practices.

A crrrawww pierced the night. Ladonna’s eyes went as round as the full moon, and another crrrawww shattered what was left of my nerves.

She gripped my arm. “Is that a murder of ravens?”

I angled a side-eye at her. “Seriously? You had to say that while we’re in a creepy cemetery?”

“Whaaat? It’s not like a hellbender made that awful caw.”

“I know she’s confusing, y’all. A ‘hellbender’ might sound like a drunken binge on Bourbon Street, but apparently it’s a giant salamander native to Pennsylvania.”

A drum beat a tribal rhythm in time with a clinking sound, and we ducked behind the tomb. Skeletons with skulls the size of enormous jack ’o lanterns marched through the cemetery like unearthly soldiers with butchers’ aprons at their waists. Some of the skulls had antelope horns, and one of the skeletons carried a bone as big as a tibia—with bits of flesh still attached. The music stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the skeletons made like cemetery statues.

Or corpses.

“Oh. My. Gawd.” Ladonna pointed, and the breath escaped my lungs as though my soul was departing for the grave.

A nine-foot skeleton with a cane emerged from behind a huge mausoleum. He wore tails and a top hat decorated with cowrie shells, and an awful grin on his skull face. Because based on his attire, the giant skeleton was none other than Baron Samedi, the voodoo loa of the dead.

The music resumed, and so did the macabre procession. The nine-foot skeleton cane-walked with a bone-rattling gait. Then he stopped and flailed his long, bony arms, and the tribal beat ceased. His head rotated as smooth as an owl’s in our direction.

“Sorry to cut this short, you guys. It’s always fun to be on Dru Ann’s blog, but we’ve gotta run—literally.”


Marsala Maroon is the sixth book in the “Franki Amato” private investigator comedy mystery series, released November 17, 2020.

Jazz Fest is in full swing in The Big Easy, but PI Franki Amato is singing the blues. The owner of an historic Italian grocery and deli is murdered in a manner eerily reminiscent of the Axeman of New Orleans, a notorious serial killer who hasn’t struck in over a century, and someone Franki knows has been arrested for the crime. Adding to her distress, Franki, her mom, and her meddling Sicilian nonna finally meet her fiancé’s family, but the tone of their encounter is decidedly downbeat. And just as her personal life strikes a sour note, the killer jazzes up his techniques. The pressure is on Franki to decipher an odd assortment of clues—an old gramophone record, a stolen trumpet, and a bottle of marsala wine. If she doesn’t, she could be the next one to get the ax.

If you like zany characters and laugh-out-loud humor with a splash of suspense, then you’ll drink up this fun series by USA Today Bestselling Author Traci Andrighetti. Cheers!

Purchase Link


About the Author
Traci Andrighetti is the USA Today bestselling author of the Franki Amato mysteries and the Danger Cove Hair Salon mysteries. In her previous life, she was an award-winning literary translator and a Lecturer of Italian at the University of Texas at Austin, where she earned a PhD in Applied Linguistics. But then she got wise and ditched that academic stuff for a life of crime—writing, that is. Her latest capers are teaching mystery writing for Savvy Authors and taking aspiring and established authors on intensive writing retreats to Italy with LemonLit.

To keep in touch with Traci, sign up for her newsletter at her website, traciandrighetti.com, or on her Facebook page.

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Traci has generously offered to give away two print or kindle copies of Marsala Maroon, winner’s choice. To enter, please leave a comment below. One entry per person and the print copy is limited to U.S. residents only. Giveaway ends December 28, 2020. Good luck everyone!

All comments are welcomed.