By Tamar Myers
Pickled...Then Potted All that continues to be of Lula Mae Wiggins-who drowned in a tub of inexpensive champagne on New Year's Eve-now sits in an alleged Etruscan urn in Savannah, Georgia. extra north, on the Den of Antiquity old store in Charlotte, North Carolina, plucky owner Abigail Timberlake is astonished to profit that she is the only real inheitor of the Wiggins property. past due Aunt Lula Mae used to be, in the end, as far away a relative as family members can get. Arriving in picturesque Savannah, Abby makes a few startling discoveries. First, that Lula Mae's ultimate resting pot is extra American reasonable than Italian vintage. And moment, that there has been a truly necessary 1793 one-cent piece taped to the interior lid. probably a coin assortment worthy hundreds of thousands is hidden one of the deceased's worldly possessions-making Lula's passoing extra suspicious than orginally surmised. With the unusual visual appeal of a voodoo preistess coupled with the anxious disappearance of a enjoyed one-and with nasty kinfolk skeletons tumbling from the timber like acorns-Abby must locate her penny auntie's killer p.d.q...or she'll be as much as her ashes in deep trouble!
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Additional info for A Penny Urned (Den of Antiquity)
But Abby, it really was a big deal back then—especially in our social set. ” “Yes, I can,” I said reluctantly. “My elementary A PENNY URNED 53 school was segregated, remember? ” Mama nodded, her normal pasty complexion completely restored. ” “Well, your aunt was very much a free spirit. ” “Was she tall, thin, short, fat? ” “As I remember, she was a big girl, like your daddy. Dark brown hair. Very pretty. ” Mama began rotating the pearls around her neck as if they were worry beads. It amazes me the nacre hasn’t worn off after all these years of abuse.
He nodded, while blowing another puff of noxious smoke into my space. ” The grip I had on my purse straps tightened. “It’s all strictly on the up and up, ma’am. ” “Please, Mr. ” Mama gasped but said nothing. No doubt I’d hear later—ad nauseam—just how rude I’d been. Ralph Lizard laughed. “I like a woman with spunk. Yes, ma’am, I do. ” Raynatta with an A and a Y was not amused. ” 28 Tamar Myers Raynatta beamed and waggled a ﬁnger sporting a rock so large and clear, it could only have been cubic zirconia.
My appointment was for nine, and that’s when I 40 A PENNY URNED 41 arrived. In fact, I got there a little early, so on Mama’s behalf checked out the Courtney Bouchard Modeling Agency. I was told by a receptionist with a thick German accent, who was built like a panzer, that they did indeed handle male models—under the age of twelve. I had better luck at the International Pecan Praline Export Company, where a receptionist with a soft southern accent, built like the Hindenburg, foisted several ﬁstfuls of free pralines on me.
A Penny Urned (Den of Antiquity) by Tamar Myers