Whoever said that ghosts exist must be out of their mind.
Oh, wait. That was me. I said that. If you’d told me yesterday that ghosts were real, I would have smiled, nodded, and called a shrink to fix your deluded little mind. Now it’s my turn to question my sanity when the ghost of my best friend turns up in my apartment. Was it the tequila shots the night before causing this apparition? Or one too many bumps to the head—let’s face it, clumsy is my middle name; it really wouldn’t surprise me if I’d done some irreparable damage to my grey matter over the years.
Now I have to accept that the paranormal does, in fact, exist. But sadly, my ghost friend is lacking something besides his body. His memory. He doesn’t know how he died but suspects foul play and he wants my help to find his killer. I can’t refuse: I’m a sucker for a good mystery and the chance to bring my friend’s killer to justice is too good to pass up.
Surprises abound as I discover a secret talent for sleuthing, not to mention an unexpected inheritance of a talking cat among other things. But the biggest problem of all? Captain Cowboy Hot Pants, or as he likes to be called, Detective Kade Galloway of the Firefly Bay PD. He’s one smokin’ cop, but my distrust of the police runs deep, and despite his assurances that he’s here to help, can I really trust him, or is his offer of assistance designed to keep me from discovering the truth?
I guess I’ll find out when death comes knocking on my door.