By Deborah Sharp
In response to Mama, a long past with the Wind-themed wedding—complete with Scarlett O' Hara bridesmaid robes and a ring-bearing Pomeranian—is superb and dandy for her 5th journey down the aisle. yet what is a bridezilla to do whilst her caterer is murdered? due to the nonstop gossip teach of their small Florida city, Mama's gator-wrestling daughter Mace is getting the airborne dirt and dust on who did it. regrettably, the suspect record is longer than the present registry. correct on the best are the groom's East Coast Yankee cousins—who can have Mafia ties. together with her on-again, off-again beau, Detective Carlos Martinez, Mace needs to song down the killer ahead of Mama's big day turns specially deadly. compliment: "[Sharp's] descriptions of part of Florida such a lot folks understand little approximately upload to the charm of this wonderful mystery."—Booklist "Who knew whodunit wouldn't merely maintain you guessing-but have you ever laughing!"—Hoda Kotb, NBC this day exhibit co-anchor "Sharp offers a large swath of humor and a prepared feel of Florida's historical past and present."—Oline H. Cogdill, South Florida Sun-Sentinel
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Additional info for Mama Gets Hitched
I don’t know, Maddie. Drug addicts prefer the path of least resistance. It’s not easy to kill a man Ronnie’s size with a knife. ” I shrugged. “Hope not. S. Highway 441 for the turnoff to Himmarshee Links. We passed a cattle ranch with a For Sale sign tacked onto a barbed-wire fence. “Will Sub-Divide,” it said, which wasn’t a good omen for the agricultural way of life in middle Florida. “I’m not fond of snakes,” Maddie announced. ” My sister shuddered. ” I looked at her sideways. ” We were coming up on the grand entrance for Himmarshee Links, all red brick pillars and geometrically trimmed hedges.
Then I remembered why I was calling, and made my tone appropriately grave. “You need to get over here, Carlos,” I said. ” Mama’s eyes went wide. C’ndee stopped sorting fabric. “Your phone must be breaking up. I thought you said …” “A body,” I filled in. ” Mama clutched at her throat with one hand and at my wrist with the other. ” she said in a small voice. I nodded yes, shushing her with a finger to my lips. “It’s the caterer Mama hired to do her wedding,” I said into the phone. “She was supposed to meet him here this morning.
He bypassed Maddie and me for Mama, who plucked a pepperoni slice from her pizza and slipped it to him under her chair. “That’s why that dog begs, Mama,” I said. ” Mimicking Teensy, Maddie turned soulful, starving dog eyes on us. Marty and I laughed. “I’ve seen that same expression,” I said. “That’s how Mama looks when one of us is eating butterscotch pie. No wonder she loves that dog so much. ” Mama scooped Teensy off the floor and into her lap. A shower of white dog hair fell onto her blueberry-colored pantsuit.