Ghastly Glass

Table of Contents

 

 

Praise for
WICKED WEAVES

“Fast-paced, clever, delightful.”

—John J. Lamb, author of
The Treacherous Teddy

 

“[A] new exciting . . . series . . . Part of the fun of this solid whodunit is the vivid description of the Renaissance Village; anyone who has not been to one will want to go . . . Cleverly developed.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“Joyce and Jim Lavene have teamed up for yet another terrific mystery series . . . A feast for the reader . . . Character development in this new series is energetic and eloquent; Jessie is charming and intelligent, with . . . saucy strength.”

—
MyShelf.com

 

“A promising new series set at a Renaissance Faire . . . Interesting juxtaposition between the present and the past and the real and the fantastic . . . Entertaining and vivacious characters.”

—
Romantic Times

 

“I cannot imagine a cozier setting than Renaissance Faire Village, a closed community of rather eccentric—and very interesting—characters, [with] lots of potential . . . A great start to a new series by a veteran duo of mystery authors.”

 

Praise for the Peggy Lee Garden Mysteries

 

“A delightful botany mystery.”

—
The Best Reviews

 

“A top-notch, over-the-fence mystery read with beloved characters, a fast-paced story line, and a wallop of an ending.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“Enjoy this pleasurable read!”

—
Mystery Morgue

 

 

“I cannot recommend this work highly enough. It has everything: mystery, wonderful characters, sinister plot, humor, and even romance.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“Well-crafted with a satisfying end that will leave readers wanting more!”

—
Fresh Fiction

 

 

“With a touch of romance added to this delightful mystery, one can only hope many more Peggy Lee Mysteries will be hitting shelves soon!”

—
Roundtable Reviews

 

“A fantastic amateur-sleuth mystery.”

—
The Best Reviews

 

“For anyone with even a modicum of interest in gardening, this book is a lot of fun.”

—
The Romance Readers Connection

 

“The perfect book if you’re looking for a great suspense.”

—
Romance Junkies

 

“Joyce and Jim Lavene have crafted an outstanding whodunit in
Pretty Poison
, with plenty of twists and turns that will keep the reader entranced to the final page.”

—
Fresh Fiction

 

“Complete with gardening tips, this is a smartly penned, charming cozy, the first book in a new series. The mystery is intricate and well-plotted. Green thumbs and nongardeners alike will enjoy this book.”

—
Romantic Times

 

 

“A fabulous whodunit that will keep readers guessing and happily turning pages to the unexpected end. Peggy Lee is a most entertaining sleuth and her Southern gentility is like a breath of fresh air . . . A keeper!”

—
Fresh Fiction

 

“A fascinating whodunit with unusual but plausible twists and plenty of red herrings.”

—
Genre Go Round Reviews

 

“The book [has] so much . . . going for it . . . A feisty widow who exudes confidence . . . The plotting and pacing are cozy-perfect.”

—
Cozy Library

Renaissance Faire Mysteries
WICKED WEAVES
GHASTLY GLASS

 

 

Peggy Lee Garden Mysteries
PRETTY POISON
FRUIT OF THE POISONED TREE
POISONED PETALS
PERFECT POISON
A CORPSE FOR YEW

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

 

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for authors or third-party websites or their content.

 

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

 

GHASTLY GLASS

 

A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the authors

 

PRINTING HISTORY

Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / September 2009

Copyright © 2009 by Joyce Lavene and Jim Lavene.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-13999-8

 

BERKLEY
^®
PRIME CRIME

Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

BERKLEY
^®
PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

 

It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the authors nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

Dedicated to our sister-in-law and friend, Marcia Koch: We know you would have loved Jessie and Chase! We miss you!

J & J

“H
ear Ye. Hear Ye. Death stalks the streets of Renaissance Faire Village. Run for your lives.”

“Would it hurt him to add some inflection?” A fairy, waiting in the costume line ahead of me, rolled her eyes and watched the Village crier go by on the cobblestone street.

“I’ll add some inflection, dearie,” the little man in the dwarf costume responded as he walked by, “when
you
take some acting lessons.”

Standing between them was making me nervous. The Black Dwarf, alias Marcus Fleck, was holding a long pole with a swinging lantern on one end. It was pointed at me instead of the fairy.

“Acting lessons?” the fairy shot back, her translucent wings quivering. “I’ve been in dinner theaters across the south.”

He snorted. “So has roast beef. What’s your point? ”

The fairy (I’m not sure if I know her. Fairies all look the same to me) made a noise somewhere between a screech and a howl. “I’ll show you my point, little man,” she threatened the dwarf, long red fingernails poised in his direction.

I was still standing between them. “Could you take this somewhere else?” I was hoping for a quick resolution to the problem since it looked like rain and I was still a good twenty minutes from the inside of the Village costume shop.

This was the first year ever that Renaissance Faire Village and Market Place in Myrtle Beach was decking itself out for Halloween. I’d wrangled and made promises to everyone but the devil to be here for the eight full weeks of the Halloween season and to continue my research on Renaissance crafts. Of course, I could continue my research next summer, and I probably still could, but I
really
wanted to be here for Halloween. I’d heard tales of all the fantastic stuff the Village theme makers had lined up for the season. I couldn’t wait!

“Jessie!” A former student of mine at the University of South Carolina at Columbia hailed me. Debby had dropped out during the last semester to work the Renaissance Village full-time. Some people came to the Village and couldn’t go home again. “I was wondering when you were going to get here. We’re roomies!”

She hugged me and I absently patted her shoulder. I looked around at the crowds of actors and students ready to trade in their traditional Renaissance Village garb of knaves, varlets, wenches, and ladies for their special Halloween costumes.

I’d hoped to see Chase here. Actually, I’d hoped he’d be waiting at the gate with breathless anticipation of my arrival. Chase Manhattan was the Village bailiff but also my main man since July. I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. My promises and commitments to be here for the next two months had really dragged me down for a while. But I was firm in my belief that he was probably,
hopefully
, still my man. You never know for sure. A few weeks can be a lifetime.