As I settle back against my pillows, I feel a twinge of guilt. I should be reading a new release for the bookstore’s newsletter. Crime fiction has always been my go-to in a reading slump, but reality broke my heart and there’s nothing like Jane Austen to heal it.
A frightful gust of wind batters Northanger Abbey just as a breeze from the open window riffles the pages of the book in my hands. Goosebumps rise over my arms.
A flicker of light outside my bedroom window drags my attention away from the book. I freeze, listen, and hope.
Gravel crunches.
My heart sinks. Not again. This has become my daily life. At least this time I thought to leave the window open, otherwise I might have missed the telltale sound.
I drop the book on my bedside table and throw the covers aside. Outside, the footsteps recede into the distance.
Heart racing, I tug on the sneakers I left at the foot of the bed just in case. Snatching my jacket, I shrug into it on my way to the front door.
Flashlight! Pivoting, I grab it from the bookshelf. I’ll need it, especially if the chase takes me through the orchard again. Fear and worry slick my palms with sweat.
I swing the heavy door open and step out into the chill November night.
I scan the darkness for the pale flash of a nightgown. There. Is that a flicker of light disappearing between the apple trees? I keep my gaze fixed on it.
I step off gravel onto moist, loamy soil and moss. Breath coming fast, forming clouds in the air, I crunch over fallen leaves, my shoes sinking into the earth beneath.
Am I going the right way? If it weren’t so dark, I’d have a hope of following Great-Aunt Roselyn’s footprints. Now, I’m stumbling blind.
I don’t have to guess which ghost Roselyn is chasing. I found him hanging from a tree. Her voice echoes through my thoughts, quiet and brusque. I saw his feet first. They twisted slowly to the left. Stopped. Swung to the right. And stopped. Then I saw his eyes, open and staring. The branch was moaning, straining beneath the weight. The sound that tree made, it was almost human.
Wind soughs through the leaves above. A scrabble of an animal. I spin, breath catching in my throat. Trees surround me.
Maybe I’ve gotten it wrong. I’ve spent too many nights listening, waiting. Now I’m the one chasing spectres through the darkness.
A shrill sound pierces the silence. A burglar alarm, coming from the neighbour’s house.
TURNING THE PAGE ON MURDER
Series: A Murder by the Book Mystery, Book 2
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Release: May 2026
Format: Print, Digital
Amazon US | Amazon Canada | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop.org
Bookstore owner and armchair sleuth Kate Rowan loved a good murder mystery ― until she fell for an actual killer.
Once, she’d hoped her fling with security expert Gary Fenris would lead to something more, but then he confessed his secret: To avenge a deceased lover, he took someone’s life. Now, Kate can’t even crack the spine on a cozy, let alone a noir. Meanwhile, Gary resolves that protecting others from danger ― and protecting Kate from himself ― is his best shot at atonement.
But when Kate’s Great-Aunt Roselyn is found with a bloody knife over her neighbour’s dead body, on a property guarded by Fenris Securities, Kate and Gary must work together to solve the case.
Their sleuthing sends them on a high-stakes treasure hunt from their little neighbourhood of Willowsend to the busy streets of London. Back in forced proximity with her killer ex, Kate can’t help but wonder if, this time, she can convince Gary to turn the page on murder.
About the author
Vanessa Westermann is known for Charley Scott Mysteries and Murder by the Book Mysteries. She has been a former Arthur Ellis Awards judge, holds an MA in English Literature and a Bachelor of Education, and has taught creative writing. At the heart of all of Westermann’s stories are strong female protagonists inspired by the heroines in her own life. She currently lives in Ontario. Connect with Vanessa at www.vanessa-westermann, on Instagram @vanessawestermann_, or find her on Threads!