Secrets of Shooting Star Lake by Susanna Strom EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: Susanna Strom
- Language: English
- Genre: Action & Adventure Romance
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Marit
An orange ball of fur barreled out from between parked cars. I slammed
on the brakes. The car skittered to an abrupt stop. I hadn’t felt a
telltale bump—thank God—but that didn’t mean the dog had escaped
unscathed. Heart pounding, I scanned the quiet residential street.
Buttercup Mittelmann trotted out from behind a bush and nonchalantly
plopped down onto his haunches in the middle of the road, to all
appearances unfazed by his narrow escape. His tail thumped against the
pavement. His tongue lolled from his mouth. If I didn’t know better, I’d
swear the unrepentant Pomeranian was smiling at me.
The knot in my stomach eased. I lowered the driver’s-side window.
“Dude, do you have a death wish?”
He yipped, as happy and chatty as ever.
Sighing, I cut the engine and unfastened my seat belt. “Does your mama
know you got out?” I demanded, stepping from the car.
As if on cue, Dorrie Mittelmann scurried down the front walk of her
blue Craftsman bungalow, a fluttering hand pressed against her chest.
Despite her seventy-odd years, not a single gray strand stood out in her
tousled pixie cut, her hair the same vivid reddish-orange as the dog’s fur. Of
the two, I bet only Buttercup sported a natural hue. Mrs. Mittelmann’s hair
color might have been suspect, but the relieved smile that crossed her face
when she spotted her dog was one hundred percent genuine.
She scooped up her wayward pooch, kissed him on the nose, then turned
to me. “The girls and I are having our weekly coffee klatch, and Janine left
the back door open. I’ve warned her that Buttercup is an escape artist, but
does she listen?” She sniffed. “No.”
I scritched Buttercup between the ears. “At least he’s safe now.”
“Yes, he is, the naughty boy.” The old woman’s eyes lit up, and she
touched my arm. “Your wedding is just around the corner, isn’t it, Marit?”
“Yes, ma’am. In eleven days.”
She sighed and shook her head. “It’s too bad dear Freya couldn’t be here
to watch you get married.”
My chest tightened. Grandma had passed away early last September—
almost a year ago—but unexpected reminders of her death still choked me
up. “Grandma is here in spirit.”
“Yes, I’m sure she is.” Mrs. M. squeezed my arm, her brown eyes warm
with sympathy. “And I bet you girls will be using one of her wonderful
recipes for your wedding cake.”
I laughed, back on safe ground. Baking was my happy place, a passion
I’d shared with Grandma. After her death, my cousins Annika, Liv, and I
borrowed money against our inheritance and bought a failing florist shop
from its bankrupt owner. We sunk all of our cash into renovating the
building. Now, Freya’s Bake Shop occupies a place of honor in Belle
Reve’s quaint downtown district.
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