Engagement and Espionage - Penny Reid

Engagement and Espionage, an all-new fun and witty cozy mystery featuring The Winston Brother fan favorites Jenn and Cletus Winston from New York Times bestselling author Penny Reid is available now!

 

 

Jennifer Sylvester made her deal with the devil . . . and now they’re engaged!

 

But all is not well in Green Valley. A chicken choker is on the loose, 61 dead birds most "fowl" need plucking, and no time remains for Jennifer and her devilish fiancé. Desperate to find a spare moment together, Jenn and Cletus’s attempts to reconnect are thwarted by one seemingly coincidental disaster after another. It’s not long before Cletus and Jenn see a pattern emerge and the truth becomes clear.

Sabotage!

 

Will an undercover mission unmask the culprit? Or are these love-birds totally plucked?

 

'Engagement and Espionage' is the first book in the Solving for Pie: Cletus and Jenn Mysteries series, is a full-length cozy mystery, and is a spin-off of Penny Reid's Winston Brothers series. This novel is best read after 'Beard Science,' Winston Brothers #3.

 

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3auZzqI

Apple Books: https://apple.co/33ONMAK

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/engagementespionage

Nook: https://bit.ly/3dvV8hf

Kobo: https://bit.ly/2wxWreY

Google Play: https://bit.ly/3aqIT3h

 

Add ENGAGEMENT AND ESPIONAGE to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2UoVpea

Engagement and Espionage is a cozy mystery featuring many favorite characters from Green Valley.  I loved the Winston Brothers series, and Jenn and Cletus in particular hold a special place in my heart.   This pair are incredibly quirky, intelligent, fun, yet whilst incredibly complex, they are also flawed.

I found the plot to be fast paced, engaging and intriguing, although the mystery was not all that hard to solve.

I would recommend reading at least Beard Science prior to reading this title if you are new to the Winston Brothers.  I look forward to seeing what Penny Reid will come up with next. 

“Don’t stop.” She reached for my belt again, this time completely undoing it, the button of my pants, and my zipper at world-record speed.

Her phone buzzed. Then it chimed. Then it buzzed and chimed two more times. Then it rang again. Reba.

Cursing, Jenn pulled the phone from her pocket, once again her face illuminated, murderous rage in her eyes. Her finger moved to the power off button. She blinked, hesitating. Her eyes widened, her body stiffened, and she gasped.

“Cletus!”

Something about her tone, like she was horrified, and maybe a little afraid, cut through the heavy haze of lust inertia, and my hands stilled. Shaking myself, it took me a few moments to realize she was showing me the phone screen, and another few to bring the content of the text messages into focus.

 

Momma: Jennifer Anne Sylvester, pick up your phone. If you’re with Cletus, I need his help. Please.

Momma: ALL THE CHICKENS AND ROOSTERS ARE DEAD! PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE!

Momma: I’m calling you in a second, pick up the phone. Mr. Badcock’s chickens are dead. All of them. I got here and he’s running around, deranged, yelling about his dead chickens! I called the police and they’re on their way. Please, please, please pick up the phone!

 

At some point, I must’ve taken the phone from Jenn and stepped away, because I glanced up upon reading the messages for the third time, finding the phone in my hand and Jenn fixing her skirt.

“This is nuts.” Her big eyes searched mine imploringly. “Who could have done this?”

I shook my head, having not yet managed to fully shift head gears—you know, from that head to the one on my neck—and my gaze dropped to the wet patch on the front of her dress just visible in the swath of light. My erection throbbed.

So we’re . . . not having sex?

“Why? Why would they do it? And WHO?” She snatched her phone back, her tone bewildered, distracted, and distraught. She was distraught because of the dead chickens, like any normal person would be.

I was distraught also, but my distress had nothing to do with farm animals.

“We have to go.” Jenn grabbed my hand and began walking toward the direction of the hall. Meanwhile, it took me until her hand found the door handle to realize my zipper and belt were still undone.

“This is crazy.” She paused as I zipped up, her tone halting and distracted. “Poor Mr. Badcock. And those poor chickens.” A sound of distress escaped her throat. “This is terrible.”

It was terrible.

And I was going to hell.

Because all I could think was, Talk about a cock block.