Bubble, Bubble, Tea and Trouble
When Cape Cod tearoom owner Lily Roberts finds a group conducting a séance in her grandmother’s Victorian B&B, she has no idea the trouble that’s about to be conjured up . . . When Lily stumbles across five middle-aged women gathered in a dark corner of the tearoom for a “book club,” she firmly reminds them that the inn’s no-smoking policy also applies to their oddly ritualistic candles. As they head outside, Lily overhears them chalking their bad luck up to the absence of their leader, Katya. Whatever they’re doing, it certainly isn’t reading—and their cover is starting to so...
When Cape Cod tearoom owner Lily Roberts finds a group conducting a séance in her grandmother’s Victorian B&B, she has no idea the trouble that’s about to be conjured up . . . When Lily stumbles across five middle-aged women gathered in a dark corner of the tearoom for a “book club,” she firmly reminds them that the inn’s no-smoking policy also applies to their oddly ritualistic candles. As they head outside, Lily overhears them chalking their bad luck up to the absence of their leader, Katya. Whatever they’re doing, it certainly isn’t reading—and their cover is starting to sound like weak tea . . . While they enjoy Lily’s homemade banana bread the next morning, they make their intentions clear—grilling Lily about any past paranormal activity in the cliffside mansion. Their attempts to contact spirits have been falling flat, it seems, and the mysterious Katya is catching the heat. Levelheaded Lily thinks the real reason is that there’s no such thing as ghosts. But Lily’s pal Bernie has found another explanation: the half-baked spirit-seekers have the wrong house. The haunted reputation belongs to the place next door—where Lily’s gardener boyfriend is currently staying. But before they can inform the luckless ladies, the missing medium shows up—dead on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Now, Lily has two jobs: serving afternoon tea, and solving a murder before someone else gets sent to the great beyond . . .
