Ain't She a Peach (Southern Eclectic)

Ain't She a Peach (Southern Eclectic)

An Atlanta ex-cop comes to sleepy Lake Sackett, Georgia, seeking peace and quiet—but he hasn’t bargained on falling for Frankie, the cutest coroner he’s ever met. Frankie McCready talks to dead people. Not like a ghost whisperer or anything—but it seems rude to embalm them and not at least say hello. Fortunately, at the McCready Family Funeral Home & Bait Shop, Frankie’s eccentricities fit right in. Lake Sackett’s embalmer and county coroner, Frankie’s goth styling and passion for nerd culture mean she’s not your typical Southern girl, but the McCreadys are hardly your typical Southern family. Led by Great-Aunt Tootie, the gambling, boozing, dog-collecting matriarch of the family, everyone looks out for one another—which usually means getting up in everyone else’s business. Maybe that’s why Frankie is so fascinated by new sheriff Eric Linden...a recent transplant from Atlanta, he sees a homicide in every hunting accident or boat crash, which seems a little paranoid for this sleepy tourist town. What’s he so worried about? And what kind of cop can get a job with the Atlanta PD but can’t stand to look at a dead body? Frankie has other questions that need answering first—namely, who’s behind the recent break-in attempts at the funeral home, and how can she stop them? This one really does seem like a job for the sheriff—and as Frankie and Eric do their best Scooby-Doo impressions to catch their man, they get closer to spilling some secrets they thought were buried forever. With Ain’t She a Peach , Molly Harper proves once again that she “never lets the reader down with her delightfully entertaining stories” ( Single Titles ). “The McCready Family Funeral Home & Bait Shop returns with another round of hilarity and romance in Harper’s second Southern Eclectic novel.” ― –RT Book Reviews on Ain’t She a Peach "Molly Harper is back in all her snarky glory with Ain’t She a Peach, her second laugh-out-loud full-length book in the Southern Eclectic series." ― Harlequin Junkies on Ain't She a Peach “Harper infuses merriment…into her laid-back [Southern Eclectic] series.” ― Publishers Weekly on Ain't She a Peach “[Goes] down as easy as honey on a deep-fried Twinkie.” ― –Library Journal on Sweet Tea and Sympathy "Warm and cozy and full of Southern charm." ― Dear Author on Sweet Tea and Sympathy "Witty, snarky, and a whole lot of Southern comfort is wrapped up in this sweet read. Not to be missed!" (5 stars) ― A Midwife Life “Margot is a terrific lead for Harper’s supporting cast of quirky characters. This is a promising start to Harper’s Southern Eclectic series.” ― Publishers Weekly "Harper writes characters you can't help but fall in love with." ― RT Book Reviews "This book is funny and the characters engaging....FInished it in 24 hours and already looking forward to the next in the Southern Eclectic series." ― BookRiot “Molly Harper is known for writing hilarious scenes, and her unique sense of humor is evident all throughout the story. . . . There are countless laughs in Sweet Tea and Sympathy along with an equal number of heartfelt moments.” ― AlwaysReviewing.com Molly Harper is the bestselling author of dozens of paranormal romances, including the Half-Moon Hollow series and the Naked Werewolf series. She also writes contemporary romance, young adult, and mystery titles. A former humor columnist and newspaper reporter, she lives in Michigan with her family. Visit her on the web at MollyHarper.com. Ain’t She a Peach FRANKIE McCREADY CAREFULLY dusted Maybelline blush in Light Rose on the curve of Eula Buckinerny’s cheek. “Now, Miss Eula, I know you’ve never been one for makeup. You’ve always been blessed with such a nice complexion, you’ve never needed it,” Frankie murmured over the strains of the Mount Olive Gospel Singers’ rendition of “How Great Thou Art.” She liked to play her customers’ favorite music in the background while she made them up, so they would feel at home. “But every now and again, a girl needs some help from a good foundation and blush. “Do ya think I wake up every morning with this fabulous Elizabeth Taylor lash already in place?” Frankie gestured to her own carefully framed violet-blue eyes. “No, this is the result of a steady hand and some indecently expensive mascara that I splurge on every six months. But don’t tell my mama. You know her. She gets downright indignant at the idea of spendin’ more than ten dollars on anything you’re just going to wash off your face every night.” Frankie studied her makeup kit and chose a lip color that, while just a bit pinker than beige, was still more risqué than anything Miss Eula had ever worn, even at the annual Sackett County Homemaker Society Awards Dinner. She painted a thin, careful coat across Eula’s lips. “This will be our little secret.” Frankie dipped a smaller brush in a dark brown contouring powder called Hot Chocolate that would give Eula’s features shadow and dimension. After a few strokes