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Leona's Last Resort
Leona's Last Resort
Leona's Last Resort
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Leona's Last Resort

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When Max Elliot invites Izzy Grant to a fancy Ivy League alumni reception at the Tawnee Mountain Resort, the ghost hunters anticipate a romantic weekend getaway at the premier ski and golf destination.

But when wealthy hotelier Leona Hutton is murdered, and her ghost asks Izzy to find her killer, she and Max decide to investigate.

Will Izzy and Max solve the case before more alumni end up dead, or the killer turns the tables and decides to hunt the ghost hunters?

Leona's Last Resort is a part of the Tawnee Mountain Mysteries series, a collection of seven brand new mysteries, from seven award-winning and bestselling authors, taking place at the same final destination, the Tawnee Mountain Resort.

Leona's Last Resort features ghost hunters, Izzy Grant and Max Elliot, from the Izzy & Max Paranormal Mystery series.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 29, 2018
ISBN9781386843917
Leona's Last Resort

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    Leona's Last Resort - Karen M. Bryson

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    Short on Time Mystery and Suspense Newsletter & Get a FREE Novel

    Izzy Grant is the town misfit.  She doesn’t believe in the para-normal until a supernatural entity starts stalking her.

    Max Elliot looks like a surfer in search of the next wave, even though rural Old Town is nowhere near the ocean.

    Sparks fly as the unlikely pair team up to investigate a humorous paranormal mystery in northern New Jersey.

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    Read More of the Tawnee Mountain

    Mystery Series

    The Tawnee Mountain Mystery series is a collection of seven brand new mysteries, from seven award-winning and bestselling authors, all taking place at the same final destination, the Tawnee Mountain Resort.

    Each book in this multi-author series is a standalone novella, and the series can be read in any order.

    Leona’s Last Resort by Karen M. Bryson

    Dark Side of the Mountain by R.J. Rosatte

    Deadly Reception by Karen Randau

    Black Diamond Graves Wendy Fallon

    Deadly Misfire by Laurie Fagen

    Cassidy’s Deadly Exit by Marla J. Hayes

    The Quinnipiac Disappearance by Lee Tidball

    1

    The bell on the front door of my antique shop tinkles alerting me that someone has entered the store. For a fleeting moment I get excited that I might have a potential customer, but I’m just as quickly slapped back to reality when I realize it’s only Max.

    He’s got his earbuds in and he’s joyfully oblivious to the fact that he’s singing way out of tune. "This is the dawning of the Age of Asparagus. The Age of Asparagus..."

    He gives me one of his megawatt grins as he leans against the front counter. What’s a guy have to do to get a date around here?

    I reach over and remove the buds from his ears. I think it’s the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.

    He furrows his brow. That makes a lot more sense, doesn’t it? Then he laughs.

    People tell Max all the time that his laugh is contagious. If I had a sense of humor, I might agree with them.

    Even though Max has lived in Old Town for over a year now, he still dresses like he’s on his way to the beach to go surfing. Old Town is in rural northwest New Jersey. We’re nowhere near the Jersey shore.

    He runs his fingers through his sun-bleached, blond hair. Whenever he does that, I know there’s something he’s afraid to tell me. 

    What is it? I raise an eyebrow.

    He gulps. I was serious about the date. He removes a fancy-looking embossed ivory envelope from the pocket of his cargo shorts. Then he waves it in the air in front of me like a flag in the breeze. It’s an invitation to a fancy alumni reception at the Tawnee Mountain Resort. I need a plus one.

    I roll my eyes at him. You know I don’t date.

    I know. But that doesn’t mean you can’t go with me. We don’t have to call it a date. I’d just like you to accompany me to the cocktail party. It’s kind of a big deal. My grad school mentor is being honored with a lifetime achievement award.

    I slap my palms against my cheeks like a young Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone and heave an exaggerated sigh. There’s no way I can get out of it, is there?

    Not if you love me...

    Even though I’ve never been able to come right out and say the L word, Max knows how I feel about him. Fine. I’ll go. But I don’t have anything to wear to a fancy Ivy League function.

    I don’t think my usual attire, a black mini-skirt, cowboy boots and a black leather biker jacket, will be appropriate for a swanky event with his snobby friends.

    Sam already said that you can borrow one of her cocktail dresses.

    Great. Even though his sister and I are about the same size that’s where the similarity between us ends. She was the head cheerleader and her high school’s prom queen. My Old Town classmates voted me the Most Likely to Kill Herself and then laughed about it our entire senior year.

    You know Sam loves you just as much as I do.

    Max and Sam are two peas in a perfect pod. They’re like living, breathing Malibu Barbie and Ken dolls. And I’m the town misfit. I have no idea why they like me so much. Maybe it’s because they don’t really fit in in this Podunk Cowtown either. 

    And when do I have to be subjected to this torture...I mean accompany you to this event?

    Saturday night.

    Don’t you have a tour scheduled?

    Max has made a name for himself hosting ghost tours for the guests at the Tawnee Mountain Resort. His business keeps us busy almost every night. It also keeps traffic flowing through the antique shop as it is one of the stops on our regular Old Town Ghost tour.

    All of the guests who were scheduled for Saturday agreed to move to the Friday night tour. So, we have the evening off.

    Wouldn’t you rather spend it doing other things? I give him a sexy smile.

    When he laughs I realize my attempt at seduction was a misfire.

    I booked us a room at the resort Saturday night. A suite. Maybe we can do some of those other things after the event.

    2

    The Tawnee Mountain Resort, located several miles outside of Old Town, is considered a premiere ski and golf destination. Because it is located just 60 miles from Manhattan, the rich and famous from New York City often travel to the vacation spot for weekend getaways.

    I thought Max and I could sneak into our suite without his sister, Sam, seeing us, but I was mistaken. Somehow, she was able to detect our presence, even from her office on the opposite side of the resort.

    Sam is Tawnee’s Director of Activities. A job she excels at. 

    Oh. My. God, she practically yells as she comes bounding down the hallway towards us. I can’t believe you’re really here!

    Before I have a chance to stop her, she embraces me in a tight hug. I stiffen reflexively. You’d think after not-dating her brother for nearly a year she’d be used to seeing me. But she still greets me like a puppy approaching its master when he comes home after a long day at work.

    If she had a tail like a dog, she would have already wagged it off.

    Even though the resort has been operating for nearly three years, most of the longtime residents of Old Town still have mixed feelings towards to place. Many of the old-timers fought against it being built and lost the fight in a spectacular way. They say you can’t fight city hall. Apparently, you can’t fight a well-connected developer with deep pockets either.

    Raymond Elliot, the billionaire owner of the Tawnee Mountain Resort, easily won the court battle and built his crowning jewel outside of Old Town despite the lack of support from the community’s residents.

    Raymond also happens to be Max and Sam’s uncle, which hasn’t done

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