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~ FRIDAY FICTION FEATURE -- COZY MYSTERY ~
-- 'HOME FRIES & ALIBIS' --
AUTHOR LENA GREGORY
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Home Fries and Alibis (An All-Day Breakfast Cafe Mystery)
by Lena Gregory
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About Home Fries and Alibis
Cozy Mystery
8th in Series
Setting - New York
Publisher : Beyond the Page Publishing
Publication date : September 23, 2025
Print length : 178 pages
ISBN-10 : 1966322275
ISBN-13 : 978-1966322276
Digital ISBN-13 : 978-1966322269
ASIN : B0FN8G8H1G
When a belligerent woman moves in across the street, café owner Gia Morelli has to call off the welcome wagon and call in the homicide squad . . .
When a nasty new neighbor moves into their peaceful community, Gia and everyone else in the neighborhood is ready to blow a fuse. The spiteful woman has quickly made a nuisance of herself, complaining to and about everyone there. Then she makes the grave mistake of falsely claiming Gia’s dog tore up her yard, and Gia goes ballistic, telling the woman to back off . . . or else. It was an impulsive move for Gia, but someone else decides an even more extreme approach is called for, and silences the woman—permanently.
Unnerved by the thought of a murderer living in her neighborhood, Gia begins digging into the victim’s life to figure out who would have wanted her dead. She soon discovers that the woman was not only malicious but was blackmailing people in the community. Even more surprising is that nearly everyone in the neighborhood has something to hide. Dead-set on rooting out the culprit, Gia has to determine who stood to lose the most if their secret was revealed, unaware that she’s perilously close to losing her own life . . .
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Character Guest Post
Rural Living
By
Gia Morelli
Hi,
and thank you for having me! I’m Gia Morelli, owner of the All-Day Breakfast
Café located in beautiful, sunny Boggy Creek, Florida. Moving to Florida had
been a spur of the moment decision for me. After a bitter divorce and my
husband’s criminal trial, I just wanted to get out of New York City. So, I
figured, with much prodding from my best friend, Savannah, what better place to
live than in the small town where she’d grown up and currently lived?
I
honestly don’t know what I would have done without Savannah’s help. While I was
suffering through the end of my marriage and the trial, Savannah found and set
up my café. The stunning pale-yellow, white trimmed, two-story building stood
proudly on one corner. It fit in perfectly with the other shops
along Main Street in the small, artsy, tourist town of Boggy Creek. Nestled a
bit south of Central Florida’s Ocala National Forest, the town was known for
its festivals, art and craft shows, and seasonal fairs. My breakfast café,
situated in the historic, downtown building, was the perfect addition.
Since
I was stuck in New York at the time, Savannah also found my new house. While I
was thrilled with the café’s location, the Rolling Pines development where my
new home was located came as a bit of a surprise. As it turned out, Savannah’s
definition of rural differed greatly from my own. I suppose that’s to be
expected, considering she grew up in a small town on the outskirts of a forest,
and I lived my whole life in New York City. I’m not sure what I’d envisioned,
maybe something like the small towns on Eastern Long Island? But a house on an
acre of land in a development backed by somewhere around three-hundred-thousand
acres of prehistoric-looking forest was not it.
Although,
I have to admit, the three-bedroom, Spanish-style ranch with cream-colored
stucco siding and a scalloped terracotta tile roof was irresistible. And I
couldn’t believe it was all mine. The dog Savannah insisted I needed, a
gorgeous Bernese Mountain dog I named Thor, helped ease some of the
solitude.Still, there were a few things that took some getting used to.
A.K.A…
Critters. Lots of them. In all shapes and sizes. Before moving to Florida, the
extent of my knowledge and interaction with wildlife included pigeons in the
park, cats in the alley behind the deli where I worked, and an occasional rat
in the subway. The first time I saw black bear cubs frolicking in my backyard,
I nearly fell over. They were adorable, until their mama showed up. And then
there were the snakes—some of which were venomous (not poisonous, so I’ve been
told. Repeatedly). And the alligators I sometimes come across while walking. I
currently have a racoon, Rocky, making a home in the tree above my garbage
pail. And I’ve even run across a couple of armadillos. Of course, I had to
Google what they were, since I’d never seen anything like that before.
But for
me, the scariest of all the creatures sharing my rural community—spiders! The
bane of my existence. They have always terrified me. Even living in New York,
the spiders gave me the heebie-jeebies, and they couldn’teven carry off a small
dog like these things could. Good thing Thor weighs in at over a hundred
pounds. Still, walking into a room, turning on the light,and finding a huntsman
spider the size of my hand staring at me from a strategic position near the
ceiling brings terror like no other.
All that
said, rural living is still the perfect life for me.
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Excerpt -- Chapter One
“What’s the point
in closing the café and taking a day off if we don’t do something fun?” With
her elbows propped on Gia Morelli’s kitchen table and her chin resting in one
hand, Savannah Mills Dumont ran the tip of one long, glitter-tipped, sky-blue
nail around the rim of her Blondes Have More Fun coffee mug and pouted.
Thor, Gia’s
Bernese mountain dog, dropped his massive head onto Savannah’s lap, rolled his
soulful brown eyes toward Gia, and sulked.
“Oh, knock it
off. Both of you.” Gia stood from where she sat between the two of them and
crossed the terra-cotta tile to the counter. If she was going to deal with both
her best friend and her traitorous dog moping at the crack of dawn, she was
going to need more coffee. She filled her mug then held the pot up toward
Savannah, who shook her head moodily. Ugh. She turned and leaned back against
the countertop, inhaled deeply the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and
took a sip.
It wasn’t like
she had any specific plans for the day, other than to relax and enjoy
twenty-four stress-free hours without punching a time clock, rushing around
like there weren’t enough hours to fit in everything she had to get done (which
there weren’t), and fielding complaints from cranky customers. She sighed. In
all fairness, most of her customers weren’t cranky, just the select few who,
despite their chronic complaints, still kept returning to the All-Day Breakfast
Café. Perhaps negativity was just a hobby for them. Her gaze flicked back to
Savannah and Thor.
Savannah
fluttered long, thick lashes that framed big blue eyes Gia had no hope of
saying no to. “Okay, fine. What is it the two of you want to do?”
Thor lifted his
head and barked once.
Savannah perked
right up, straightened in her chair, and offered a sly grin. “Whatever you’d
like.”
“I’d like to
go to the nursery for some flowers and plant a garden out front,” Gia reminded
her.
“Oh, please,
sugar.” Savannah waved her off with a flick of her hand. “You’ve been saying
that for months, and you and I both know it’s not going to happen.”
“It might.”
Especially if Savannah kept insisting it wouldn’t. Nothing like a little
pessimism for motivation. Besides, she’d heard gardening was a great stress
reliever. And, having lived most of her life in New York City, she’d never had
the opportunity to give it a try.
“Uh-huh.” Lifting
one perfectly sculpted brow, Savannah shifted her long blonde hair behind her
shoulder, hooked an elbow over her chair back, and pinned Gia with a knowing
look. “And what happens the first time you kneel down and find a snake in the
weeds? Or a bear lumbers across the yard? Or Rocky Raccoon, apparently your
newest pet, stops by for a visit?”
“Okay, that’s not
fair.” It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t had the heart to get rid of the little
varmint after the first time she’d paid a pretty penny to have someone catch
him and release him elsewhere. Then, the following day, she’d found him
leisurely hanging out on his favorite moss-covered oak branch above her garbage
pails, staring at her with an amused look that said, Ha ha, sucker, I’m not
that easy to get rid of. But the reminder had her second-guessing the idea
of a garden . . . again. The chances of her planting and caring for a
garden without running into some critter or another were slim to none.
Not that she didn’t
adore her home in Rolling Pines, she did. The development on the outskirts of
the Ocala National Forest in Central Florida was what Savannah had called rural
when she’d first found the beautiful little Spanish-style ranch Gia now called
home. But it was more like the center of some prehistoric forest—at least, it
was to Gia, who’d spent most of her life surrounded by concrete and steel. Of
the thousand or so one-acre lots the community boasted, only about half of them
had been cleared and built on. That left a lot of swampy forest, home to an
abundance of wildlife—bears, coyotes, armadillos, alligators, venomous snakes,
huntsman spiders—and that was the end of that. A shiver tore through her. There
was nothing Gia feared more than spiders.
Savannah grinned.
“Okay, okay,
point made.” It was Gia’s turn to sulk.
“So
. . .” Having won the argument, as usual, Savannah sipped her coffee.
“What do you feel like doing? Now that I take it gardening is out?”
Gia pinned her
with her harshest glare. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you no one likes a smart
aleck?”
“Come to think of
it . . .” She laughed, the sound musical in the small kitchen. “You
may have mentioned it once or twice.”
Gia couldn’t help
but smile. Since there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Savannah, who’d been
Gia’s rock through the most difficult time in her life, it looked like she’d
have to suck it up and choose something her friend would enjoy. Which would
probably involve an hour’s drive to one mall or another followed by the
afternoon in a shoe store. Then, of course, they couldn’t leave Thor out, so
the day would wind up with a hike along one of the many trails Gia had come to
enjoy walking—when she didn’t come across a body, that is. Or a bear. Or an
alligator. Was it too late to change her mind on this? One glance at Savannah
and Thor assured her it was.
“All right,
we’ll—” She was awarded a brief reprieve when the doorbell rang. Although she
had no idea who’d be stopping by so early in the morning. She glanced down at
her oversized sweats and tattered T-shirt. Oh, well. Nothing she could do about
her attire, and answering the door would save her having to make any
life-altering decisions. At least, for a few minutes. “I’ll just get that.”
With Thor on her
heels, his long black tail tipped with white wagging furiously at the thought
of company, she headed for the front of the house. She peered through the
living room window and sighed. She’d have been better off taking her chances
with a hike through a viper pit. Of course, not in the new shoes, which would
certainly have ridiculously high heels if Savannah was helping her pick them
out.
The bell rang a
second time.
Then again, a
hike through a swamp in stilettos had to beat dealing with Gladys Hoffmeier at
six in the morning, or any other time, really. With one last sigh, Gia opened
the door to her neighbor from across the street and one house over.
Thor backed
quietly away and shifted to stand behind Gia.
Gladys, arms
folded across her chest, tapped her foot with about as much patience as Rocky
Raccoon on clean-out-the-fridge day. Despite the early hour, the woman was
already decked out in a matronly dress, sensible shoes, and full makeup. Her
tight red curls clung tenaciously to her head as if they didn’t dare droop out
of place, despite the humidity. Before Gia could even say good morning or
invite her inside, Gladys shifted her hands to her ample hips and glared. “That
dog of yours was digging up my yard again.”
First of all,
it’s not your yard. Gia clamped her teeth tightly together to cage
the words inside. Since Gladys had come to live with her sister (half sister,
Gia reminded herself) six months ago, she’d done nothing but complain and cause
trouble in the previously serene community.
Savannah came up
beside Gia and lay a hand on Thor’s head.
If Gia didn’t
intervene quickly, the ensuing battle would end up getting out of hand and
result in Captain Hunter Quinn, Gia’s fiancé, who also happened to be
Savannah’s cousin, and Detective Leo Dumont, Savannah’s husband, being called.
Again. It seemed Gladys Hoffmeier had the Boggy Creek Police Department number
on speed dial, since they’d banned her from dialing 911 for anything other than
a life-threatening emergency the last time they’d been summoned. “Good morning,
Mrs. Hoff—”
“Ms.
Hoffmeier. As I’ve told you several times now. I divorced my no-good,
two-timing ex-husband six months ago, and I refuse to answer to Mrs. ever
again.” She lifted her chin defiantly.
When Savannah
opened her mouth, no doubt to suggest, as she had on several other occasions,
that Gladys revert to using her maiden name, Gia reached out and discreetly
pinched her arm.
“Ouch.” Savannah
scrunched up her face, aimed an exaggerated scowl at her, and rubbed the sore
spot.
So much for
discretion.
“Right. Sorry.
Ms. Hoffmeier. As I’ve told you before, Thor never leaves the house alone. He’s
either in my fenced yard with me watching him, or he’s on a leash.” At least,
he’d been leashed ever since the first time Ms. Hoffmeier had come
pounding on Gia’s door and accused Thor of knocking over her garbage
pails. Before that, he’d enjoy romping in the yard while Gia carried in
groceries or did outdoor chores. Not that she’d ever let him out of her sight,
even then, but at least he enjoyed some freedom.
“And, as I’ve
told you, missy . . .” She lifted a finger, shook it a couple of
inches from Gia’s nose. “There are no other dogs his size on the block. And the
holes on my lawn are too big to have been dug by the Carsons’ chihuahua.”
“Ms.
Hoffmeier—”
“I have every bit
of damage he’s done documented right here.” She tapped the side of her head
with one dagger-like, blood-red nail. “As well as a physical copy stashed away.
Now, either you get that dog under control, or I will.”
Gia seethed, her
patience precariously close to tipping over an edge there was no coming back
from.
Thor growled low
in his throat.
Savannah
practically vibrated beside her.
Gia sucked in a
deep breath, blew it out slowly, and reminded herself there was a right way and
a wrong way to deal with people like Gladys Hoffmeier. She inhaled again. One,
two, three—
Before she could
get any further, Gladys harrumphed. “My half brother-in-law’s shotgun hangs
right over the mantel, and the very next time—”
“Now, you listen
to me, Gladys.” Gia’s fuse blew. She poked Gladys in the chest, knocking her
back a step. “The next time you come to my home and make threats against my dog
will be the last time. Do you understand me? I’ve been patient up until now,
but you pushed it too far this time. If you ever threaten Thor again, you’ll be
sorry you ever moved here.”
Her dyed orange
brows shot up. “Is that a threat?”
“No, ma’am,
that’s a promise.” With that, Gia took a step back into the foyer.
Gladys pressed a
hand against her chest. “Well, I never—”
“Well, maybe you
should, honey. It might do wonders for your temperament.” Savannah grinned
wickedly and slammed the door in her face. “Grr. I’d sure like to cream that
woman’s corn.”
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About Lena Gregory
Lena Gregory is the author of the Bay Island Psychic Mysteries, which take place on a small island between the north and south forks of Long Island, New York, the All-Day Breakfast Café Mysteries, which are set on the outskirts of Florida’s Ocala National Forest, the Mini-Meadows Mysteries, set in a community of tiny homes in Central Florida, and the Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries, which take place in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, New York.
Lena grew up in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, but she recently traded in cold, damp, gray winters for the warmth and sunshine of central Florida, where she now lives with her husband, three kids, son-in-law, and four dogs. Her hobbies include spending time with family, reading, and walking. Her love for writing developed when her youngest son was born and didn’t sleep through the night. She works full time as a writer and a freelance editor and is a member of Sisters in Crime.
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