Mayhem at a Halloween Wedding

Book 2: Halloween Bookshop Mystery

by Emmeline Duncan

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Female Sleuths; Mystery

Synopsis

It’s Halloween year-round in Elyan Hollow, Oregon, where Bailey Briggs sells the latest tomes of frights and fears at the bustling Lazy Bones Books—when she’s not uncovering deadly secrets and mysteries that haunt the town . . .

There’s more to celebrate this Halloween when Bailey’s college friend Raven prepares to walk down the aisle in spooky seasonal style. As a bridesmaid, Bailey is overwhelmed helping with wedding preparations while the annual holiday festival scares up business for her bookstore. She also finds herself playing peacekeeper between fellow bridesmaids Colby and Ivy, whose arguments add even more conflict to the already simmering tensions within the wedding party between the groom’s traditional family and the bride’s bohemian parents.

Trying to ease stress and enjoy the spirit of the season, Bailey arranges the bachelorette party on the night of the Halloween parade. Everyone agrees to join in the festivities and dress up in costume. But running into several people dressed as the Grim Reaper turns out to be a bad omen. An explosion rocks the route, causing a panic. When the smoke clears, Ivy is found dead, believed to be murdered—and Colby is questioned by police after several witnesses report the very public clashes between the two bridesmaids. Narrowing down the list of suspects to prove Colby’s innocence means Bailey will have to find a motive that drove a killer—and keep her friend’s wedding bells from becoming funeral knells . . .

Release date: July 29, 2025

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Everyone hears “dream big.” Growing up, I’d always gotten the message that dreaming big is great, but creating a plan to bring that dream to fruition is the first step to success. Having the mental fortitude to persevere when the plan goes off track is where dreams become reality.

When I started the Spooky Season Lit Fest, I knew it was a risk. What if no one came? What if people did show up, but the talks didn’t go well, or we didn’t have enough chairs? Or it just failed in some unimaginable way? I didn’t know, during the first year, I should’ve asked myself, “What if someone dies?”

Thankfully, the second year of the festival went off without a hitch. The authors I’d brought in were charming and, more importantly, showed up on time to the events they were scheduled to do. They were warm with readers, and in return, the readers were respectful if they caught sight of the authors wandering around town.

Those same readers had dropped by Lazy Bones Bookshop, the store I’d inherited from my grandparents, and bought books by the armful for the authors to sign. I’d sold out of my shop’s T-shirts and tote bags and had to pay for a rush order to restock for the rest of the Halloween season. People had traveled in from all of the country, and two had even flown in from Canada, promising to come again once they’d soaked in the charm of Elyan Hollow, Oregon.

Halloween is always the best time of year in Elyan Hollow. At one point, we’d been the filming site of an iconic Halloween movie. Some towns would’ve said, “Oh, that was fun,” and left it as a distant memory.

But not Elyan Hollow. We’d rolled with our newfound reputation as a Halloween destination. Fans had come into town to see filming sites, and someone saw the untapped opportunity.

After a contentious town vote, we became Halloween-themed year-round, at least in downtown. The mills on the other side of town were exempt. We get Halloween fans throughout the year, regardless of season, and have fun during the Christmas season. St. Patrick’s Day is also a highlight.

But our time to shine has always been our extended festival from late September to the big day itself: Halloween. Elyan Hollow is magical in October.

Now that the lit festival was over, I had a new project to juggle while running my shop during our busiest time of the year: a wedding.

Not my own, thankfully, but my old college roommate had decided to fulfill her lifelong dream of a Halloween wedding.

After growing up in town followed by running a business, I knew most of the vendors Raven should contact. I could give feedback on the venues. Be her person on the ground in Elyan Hollow since she worked about a thousand miles away.

Little did I know secrets from the past would show up and haunt her big day.

When I adopted my dog, I didn’t realize how much time he’d spend following me around, his eyes intently focused on what I was eating, nor how much time I’d spend following him, yelping, “Jack! What are you eating?”

But Jack is always good company, even if he was chowing down on a handful of peanut butter candy that was supposed to be part of my friend Raven’s wedding favors. It wasn’t his fault that the candy had been dropped on the floor. He was just helping us clean up.

At least it wasn’t his fault the candy was on the ground this time. Jack’s tall and not opposed to helping banana bread and other delicious treats fall to the floor, where he will do his best to help by cleaning them up.

Food theft aside, he’s a good boy. And at least the candy wasn’t chocolate. Although at almost one hundred pounds, a small amount of chocolate was unlikely to harm Jack the way the same amount could harm a Chihuahua. Not that I planned to test the theory.

Raven stuck her head under the table and looked at Jack, who pointedly ignored her as he crunched. “Thank you for cleaning up the candy I dropped, my fuzzy ring bear.”

“He’s always happy to help,” Colby, my BFF, said. She’d finished folding the one hundred gothic black boxes shaped like coffins with “Til Death Do Us Part” printed on the side. I added “Night of the Living Wed” buttons with a matching small pumpkin and sage candle in a coffin tin to the boxes before passing it along to Raven, who was supposed to add a small black mesh bag of artisanal peanut butter candy.

“You should’ve bought M&Ms instead of these weird peanut butter candies,” Raven’s sister, Harmony, said. So far tonight, Harmony hadn’t been happy with anything. She didn’t like her sister’s Halloween wedding theme. She thought her sister should give out small potted succulents instead of the favors. Harmony was supposed to seal the boxes with a custom sticker of two skeletons staring longingly into the eye sockets of each other’s skulls with the text “Emmett & Raven” beneath, and then store them in the bin next to her, but she’d been fiddling with her phone, so Raven was taking care of the final step.

“Emmett is allergic to chocolate,” Raven reminded Harmony.

“Causing the groom to go into anaphylactic shock would make the wedding memorable, but not in the way Raven intends,” I said.

“Don’t even joke about that. It would be a nightmare, and not the good kind,” Raven said.

Jack moved out from under the table, sat beside me, and leaned down to put his chin on my thigh. He looked at me with clear brown eyes that said he was hungry, and that he hadn’t been pet before in his life, ever.

“Watch yourself, Jack Skeleton, and chill on the candy,” I said. I used his full name so he’d know I meant business.

“I can’t believe you’re using that dog as your ring bearer,” Harmony said.

“Ring bear,” Raven corrected her. “I debated flower boy, but he’s almost like a polar bear. So he’s our ring bear.”

Raven looked at Jack, and he gazed soulfully back.

“It’s annoyingly dead in here,” Harmony said. Her eyes darted around the taproom.

The Elyan Mortuary & Deli Bottle Shop, owned and operated by my friend Ash, only serves beer, along with a handful of canned nonalcoholic drinks, plus a hard cider and wine option. No sandwiches.

No dead bodies in a mortuary, thankfully.

Harmony was somewhat right. The taproom was quiet for a Wednesday evening during the spooky season. The only other customers were a guy sitting at the bar, wearing a T-shirt with a goat on the front and reading a cozy mystery, and a woman reading a graphic novel in the corner. But there was a good chance a local running club or another group would descend soon, bringing chatter and chaos. It was only 6:00 p.m.

Harmony glanced at my drink with a scornful look. “Are you enjoying the why-bother mocktail?” Her words were singsongy and instantly made every nerve in my body tense up.

“Chill out, Harmony,” Raven said.

“The zero-proof cocktails are excellent,” I said. Ash had added a line of zero-proof canned cocktails to the drinks cooler in her taproom over the winter to appeal to fans of the “sober curious” movement and people looking for nonalcoholic but interesting options to drink when out with friends. So far, they’d been a hit. The mojito I was drinking wasn’t bad, although I might’ve preferred a lemonade instead of the artisanal NA drink.

Harmony was on her third glass of wine, while Raven was drinking a locally made pale ale at a sedate pace. Colby had opted for sparkling water as she also helped compile the favors.

“I just don’t see the point of zero proof,” Harmony said.

There were several answers I could’ve offered up. It was a work night, and I had an early start tomorrow since I was planning on meeting Colby for a long run before opening the bookshop. I’ve never been a heavy drinker, even during my wildest days as an undergraduate, which hadn’t been particularly wild.

And when I’d met my biological father last year, I’d found out that my paternal grandfather had battled alcoholism. Calling Rex Abbot my dad still felt odd, but I understood why he drank sparingly. I’d followed along, although I still grab a drink occasionally on the weekends. I’d been glad when Ash had started introducing more zero-proof drinks, and supposedly, she was about to offer a fantastic nonalcoholic beer on draft from a local brewery, which she was launching with a tap takeover. Plus, both of my grandmothers had died of cancer, one from ovarian and one from breast cancer. I didn’t want to spoil the mood by telling Harmony about how alcohol can increase the risk of breast cancer.

“You don’t have to understand other people, Harmony, you just need to respect them,” Raven said.

Harmony made a “wah-wah” sound like the teacher in the Charlie Brown TV specials.

Colby looked at me and then at the bar, where Ash was flipping through a magazine. “Ash! Have you considered scheduling a showing of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown?”

“Good idea!” Ash said. She left her spot behind the counter and sauntered up to our table. Ash’s hair is an ever-changing variety of colors, and now her pixie cut was purple at the roots and silver at the ends. I’d admired it earlier tonight and wanted to study it closer. Which might be weird, so I kept my eyes on my part of the wedding favor project.

“Do you need any help?” Ash asked. “I’m happy to help when I have time.”

“You can seal the boxes with stickers.” Raven showed Ash what to do.

“These are lovely,” Ash said.

“Bailey drew them for me,” Raven said.

Ash flashed a smile my way. “Of course she did. Which reminds me, Bailey, that I have a project I want to talk to you about. But it can wait until next month when all of the festivities are over.”

“The town’s obsession with Halloween is just weird,” Harmony muttered.

“But my obsession with Charlie Brown is totally, one-hundred-percent normal,” Colby said.

We chatted about creating a Charlie Brown night as we worked while Harmony scrolled on her phone.

“Just think of the photos if we convinced people to dress up as the Peanuts gang. Jack can be an extra-large Snoopy,” Colby said.

“And you could get a Charlie Brown–inspired Christmas tree and keep the theme going through the holidays,” I added.

As Olivia, the co-owner of Boorito, carried our dinner order in from the food cart out back, a loud voice from the taproom’s entrance caught our attention.

“Now that the maid of honor is here, this party can start!”

Ivy Monroe, aka Raven’s maid of honor, had arrived, followed by a guy with a fancy-looking DSLR camera hanging around his neck, and a long narrow bag hooked over one shoulder. They sloped our way. Ivy’s baby doll dress had nineties flare, as did her vintage leather jacket.

“Is Ivy traveling with her very own paparazzi?” Harmony asked as the duo walked up.

Olivia stared wide-eyed at Ivy momentarily, then dropped our food off and fled. I scrunched my eyebrows as she hustled away, her Doc Martens practically causing sparks against the polished concrete floors of the former fire station turned taproom.

“This is your burrito, I think,” Colby said. She handed over a plate and took the torta in front of me. Raven snagged the tacos in front of her sister and swapped it for a salad topped with pollo asado and avocado. Aka two of my favorite food groups, although I prefer them in burrito form.

The photographer pulled two chairs over to our table, and Ivy plopped into one without thanking him.

“This is way too sedate. Who’s up for causing some trouble? We only have a few more days until Raven chains herself to Emmett,” Ivy said. “How long is the Uber to the nearest club or bar that’s not dead?”

Colby immediately glared at Ivy, as did Harmony. Even though Harmony had already complained about the taproom being too quiet for her.

“It’s a Wednesday night. Some of us work tomorrow,” I said.

“Suckers. All the more reason to celebrate being alive instead of being all responsible and buttoned up,” Ivy said. “Although I know that’s your life, Bailey. All work and boring play.”

Colby and I both glared at Ivy, but I dropped my gaze down to my work. The sooner I was done, the sooner I could ditch Ivy. We’d never been exactly friends, but I would’ve hoped that she’d start out civil considering we hadn’t seen each other for several years. But I wouldn’t give Ivy the satisfaction of arguing with her; she wasn’t worth the aggravation, and all I wanted was for Raven to have a wonderfully spooky wedding.

“Like you know the meaning of the word ‘responsible,’ ” Harmony said. She looked at Ivy, then moved her gaze away, as if the maid of honor wasn’t worth looking at.

“Everyone who hasn’t met him, this is Nate, our wedding photographer,” Raven said. “All of you should remember Ivy.”

“You were in my year, right?” Colby said, and Nate nodded.

“Imagine my surprise when I licensed photos for an ad campaign at work and found out Nate was not just a phenomenal photographer but also a former college classmate,” Raven said, referring to her day job at an ad agency. “I’ve used his work in some of my favorite campaigns.”

“Hopefully, I get some good Halloween shots this week, in addition to your wedding,” Nate said. “Fall in Oregon is always gorgeous. I’m glad to be back for a week.”

“Will you try to sell the Halloween photos?” Colby asked.

“Ideally I’ll license the best of them, and maybe use one or two in a show if they’re right.”

I remembered Nate from my student days, although it was more like a static image than a living breathing memory. He’d barely changed, still dressed in baggy jeans and band T-shirts, although he’d added a hoodie as a nod to the autumn weather. I remembered that he’d worn the same burgundy-and-gray-striped sweater virtually every day one winter when we were students. I’d seen him around the art building, and I vaguely remembered seeing some of his photos in the Senior Spotlight at the end of the year.

“You did a senior thesis with photographs,” I said.

Nate’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Found objects.”

“The centerpiece was a rusted Chevy.” The photograph was coming into view in my mind’s eye. The grass around it had been lush, a bit wild, with a blooming rosebush entangled around one side mirror. The truck was rusty, but I’d felt like it could’ve told us stories if it could talk.

“A 1955 Chevy Cameo Carrier truck. It would’ve been beautiful if it had been taken care of,” Nate said. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“I was impressed.”

“Bailey’s senior thesis was all illustrations, and she blew everyone away. People thought she must be a professional coming back to take classes, or one of the faculty members,” Colby said.

Ivy yawned loudly, then smirked. Which earned her additional glares from Colby and Harmony.

The comic I’d drawn for my senior project was close to my heart, as it’d been a response to my grandmother being diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I used my grandmother as the model for the librarian in my haunted library comic, and her face stared out of the pages of the comic, including in the graphics I’d blown up to display for the senior show. I later realized that the evil spirits she’d tamed on the page had been lurking death, who weren’t evil, per se, but trickster figures that everyone faces someday, unless we as a society somehow figure out how to turn immortal. I hadn’t put all of the comic pages on display, and both of my grandparents had ended up with tears in their eyes when they dropped by the show.

Two more couples walked into the taproom, and Raven waved to them.

“We’re going to check in, then join you!” one of them called out. They pulled rolling suitcases toward the bar, and Ash hustled over to meet them.

“Those are the people staying upstairs with us?” Harmony asked.

“Yes.” Raven’s response was clipped. A few years ago, Colby and I helped Ash decorate the upper level of the building, which she rented out as a handful of hotel rooms and one hostel-size room with bunk beds, with all the rooms sharing a small communal living room and kitchenette. Raven had rented all the rooms for her wedding.

“So, who is sharing the hostel room?” I asked. I pictured Harmony and Ivy sharing a bunk bed and held in a snort.

“A group of Emmett’s friends volunteered. They said it’d be like summer camp,” Raven said.

Summer camp. I’d read books about summer camps as a kid, and wondered what it would be like to have gone to one.

“We could’ve stayed at the B&B where Emmett’s parents are. It looks way nicer,” Harmony said.

“You’re welcome to get your own hotel room.” Raven sounded like she was gritting her teeth. Raven’s and Emmett’s parents and assorted family members were booked into various B&Bs in town, including the Sleepy Hollow Inn, which was owned by one of my family friends.

Ivy laughed. “But then what would Harmony complain about if she wasn’t mooching a room off of you?”

“You’re one to talk. Raven’s paying for your room.” Harmony glared at Ivy.

“At least I can pay my rent by myself, princess,” Ivy said.

“Like you’ve never borrowed money before.”

“I pay back my debts,” Ivy said. She grinned spitefully. “Eventually.”

“You’re such a—”

“Will you two just cut it out before someone makes you?” Colby’s voice filled the room. When we made eye contact, Ash raised her eyebrows at me, and I shrugged. Next to me, Jack sat up straight on alert, ready to step between me and any threats.

Harmony jumped to her feet, and her hip knocked into the table. Raven grabbed her pint glass before it fell over, but Harmony’s salad fell to the floor in a sad loss of perfectly seasoned chicken.

“You’re a plague on humanity, Ivy,” Harmony said. Her words were a tad slurred from the wine she’d practically chugged.

“A plague? Big words from a shopgirl,” Ivy said in a singsong voice. She’d clearly been working on her Harmony imitation, as she’d sounded exactly like Raven’s sister.

As Ivy waved her hand at Harmony, dismissing her, I noted that Ivy’s pupils were blown, making her eyes look like black pools.

Harmony slurred again when she said, “You’re going to regret this.”

Ivy’s only response was to toss her hair over her shoulder.

Ash marched up with her hands in fists. “Knock it off because I will kick you both out,” she said.

“Whatever. I’m done with this place.” Harmony marched off, although she couldn’t keep a straight path.

Raven watched her sister go, then closed her eyes.

Ivy stood up and strutted across the room toward the seasonal artwork on display. This year. . .