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Lottawatah Fireworks

Lottawatah Fireworks

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Lottawatah Fireworks

115 pages
1 hour
Jul 5, 2013


Lottawatah Fireworks is the tenth book in the Brianna Sullivan Mysteries e-book series. A novella-length story, Lottawatah Fireworks continues the spooky, yet funny saga of reluctant psychic Brianna Sullivan, who planned to travel the country in her motor home looking for adventure, but unexpectedly ended up in Lottawatah, a small town in Oklahoma. In Lottawatah Fireworks, Brianna's fiancé surprises her by buying a ramshackle hunting lodge, ready to call it home. The cabin comes complete with no plumbing, no electricity, and the ghost of a recent murder victim. It's up to Brianna to find the truth of who killed the man and why. In the process, the bonds of friends and family are sorely tested. Visit Lottawatah for mysteries, love, laughter, romance and all the ghosts you can shake a stick at.

Jul 5, 2013

About the author

The author of Murder Off the Books and Murder Takes the Cake, Evelyn David is the pseudonym for Marian Edelman Borden and Rhonda Dossett. Marian lives in New York and is the author of ten nonfiction books on a wide variety of topics ranging from veterans benefits to playgroups for toddlers! Rhonda lives in Muskogee, Oklahoma, is the director of the coal program for the state, and in her spare time enjoys imagining and writing funny, scary mysteries. Marian and Rhonda write their mystery series via the internet. While many fans who attend mystery conventions have now chatted with both halves of Evelyn David, Marian and Rhonda have yet to meet in person.

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Lottawatah Fireworks - Evelyn David

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries

Volume 10



Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Evelyn David

Discover other titles by Evelyn David at http://www.evelyndavid.com

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you.

cover photo © Ian Ong | Dreamstime.com

Bulldog photo by Jill Harmon Smith

Chapter 1

So I'm just here because Madison and Farley weren't available? You see me as someone to carry a bucket? A beast of burden...of sorts.

Sassy Jackson grinned. You could look at it that way of course. Or you could consider it an opportunity to experience one of the rites of passage for anyone growing up in this part of Oklahoma.

Uh huh. Tell me again why your grandchildren are being deprived of this wonderful experience?

Great Aunt Ida chuckled. Madison had softball practice and Farley claimed a prior commitment. I'm afraid he remembers last year.

I frowned. Those kids were smart. If I could have gotten out of this trip I would have. But my fiancé insisted I spend my day off bonding with his mother and great aunt. Cooper used equal amounts of guilt and bribery in getting me out of bed and loaded into his mother's car at the ungodly hour of 5 am. Upon reflection he might have been trying to get rid of me for the day.

My name is Brianna Sullivan. I'm a psychic, but clearly not a very good one. Had I seen a future as a pack mule, I would have bailed from Lottawatah, Oklahoma months ago.


After a half hour of winding dirt roads driven by my future mother-in-law at a speed that made the strawberry pop tart Cooper had provided me as a nourishing start to my day appear and disappear in my throat with alarming frequency, we'd arrived. Or so I thought. Instead I learned that we'd only arrived at the point where we would abandon civilized modes of travel and start a hike into the wilderness.

I was already sweating and the midsummer sun was barely up. I took two steps off the road and was attacked by swarm of tiny bugs lurking in the weeds.

Prior commitment, my....Farley is six years old for heaven's sake, Sassy. He should go where you tell him to go. Those kids get away with murder. Having babysat Cooper's sister's kids for a whole weekend over spring break, I was fully qualified to reach that conclusion.

I reached down and scratched at my exposed ankles. Speaking of murder, what do you call these little flesh eaters again?

Chiggers. Aunt Ida gave me a knowing look. Don't sit in the grass or you'll rue the–

Not wanting to hear her dire predictions again, I gave in. Fine. Hand over the bug gunk. I still say that stuff smells just like Doc's special catfish bait.

You should have worn socks, Sassy said, her head hidden in the trunk of her Cadillac as she unloaded supplies. I told Cooper to tell you to dress appropriately.

Aunt Ida tied on her sunbonnet. Gonna be a hot one.

Can I just say two things right now? Who knew women still wore those bonnet things? And there is no way something that ugly was ever getting on my head no matter how appropriate.

The old woman smiled, clearly delighted to be leading this expedition. Brianna, every year I win a ribbon at the county fair for my blackberry jam. I win because I only use the best blackberries and the best blackberries are in the most inaccessible places.

Irritated with my lot in life, I slapped more bug gunk on my bare legs and asked the obvious question. Why?

Sassy locked the doors on her car and set the alarm, like she was in the middle of a crime-filled neighborhood instead of the wilderness. Because socks would–

The woman hadn't been keeping up with the conversation. Of course Aunt Ida had lived with Sassy and Wayne on their ranch for the past 20 years and Sassy might have gotten to the point where she tuned the old lady out as a matter of self-preservation. As to why Sassy never paid any attention to what I said, I could only guess.

Forget the socks. It's a 110 in the shade. Tell me about the berries. Why do the damn berries that we need grow in the most inaccessible places?

Sighing, Sassy took the jar of homemade bug repellant from me, screwed the lid on tight, and carefully handed it back to her husband's aunt. She then shoved a large woven basket in my now empty left hand and the plastic handle of an insulated gallon jug into the other.

The jug sloshed, so I assumed it contained water. Or maybe sweet tea. You couldn't go anywhere in Lottawatah without being offered a glass of iced tea.

The berries? I wasn't moving until I got an intelligent answer.

Aunt Ida laughed. Blackberries grow just about anywhere, but the bushes that are easy to get to, those right by the side of the roads, those get picked over quickly by both people and animals. We've got to go deep into the woods to find the ones I want. Size is important in blackberries and–

Enough said. I set the basket down for a moment so I could pull the shoulder strap of my purse over my head and across my body. I put on my sunglasses.

Sassy pointed towards a barely discernible path that led away from the road and down into a ravine, overgrown with brush and trees. Bigfoot country I thought, having watched too many cheesy cable television shows.

We used to come every summer with Cooper and Katie when they were young. Property was originally owned by Wayne's grandfather. The foundation of the old home place is not too far from where the berries are. One of the Jackson cousins owns this property now. What's his name? Bruce? Or is it Jeffrey Lee? Ida, you know, the one with the lisp and the buck teeth?

No. The older woman shook her head. Wasn't either one of those boys. It was the one Cooper hung around with. Everett. The short one with the extra toes. I think Everett sold it a few years back, got behind on his taxes. Not sure who bought it. Doesn't matter. No one is going to care about us picking some berries.

Everett? Are you sure? Sassy asked. Didn't he marry Candy Dalton's second cousin? Lana or maybe Leticia?

No, that was Bruce. Bruce married Lisa Dalton. But he's not the one who owned the land. Everett owned the land. He might have gotten those extra toes cut off, but he's still short.

My head was starting to hurt. Cooper's family tree had a few faulty branches on it. Extra toes?

Never mind that now, usually skips generations. We can figure up your children's odds later, Aunt Ida declared. Let's get going. Daylight's burning.

I picked up the jug and followed the two women, going over all the reasons in my head why I wanted to marry into that family.

It was a short list.


Brianna, be sure to put more in the basket than you put in your stomach!

Aunt Ida was in a fine mood. We'd hit the mother-lode of blackberries, only two snake-infested ravines, one rocky hill, and a muddy creek from the road where the Cadillac was parked. Okay, I don't know for a fact that there were snakes in those ravines, but Sassy said there were and who was I to argue with her about the local wildlife. I really tried not to argue with her about anything. I was hardly ever successful in that endeavor.

Sassy continued the refrain she'd started the week before when Cooper and I had informed her of our plans to drive to Eureka Springs, Arkansas and get married during Cooper's summer vacation.

"I don't know why you and Cooper are rushing things. Next Spring, the new First Baptist church building will be finished and you could have the ceremony there. It would be a beautiful wedding. Instead

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