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Tainted Truffle Treachery - RR20 accessibility pack

Tainted Truffle Treachery - RR20 accessibility pack

Regular price $9.99 USD
Regular price Sale price $9.99 USD
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 Ready to take a bite out of crime? Join Reg Rawlins, psychic detective, as she investigates a string of mysterious poisonings linked to a wildly popular new brand of chocolate truffles in Black Sands.

Award-winning and USA Today Bestselling author P.D. Workman brings you Tainted Truffle Treachery.

Truffles to die for

Strange things are happening in Black Sands.

A series of sudden and unexplained deaths of three magical practitioners have Corvin worried, and he convinces Reg to join him in trying to track down the cause and the culprit behind them.

As Reg and her friends investigate the deaths with Corvin and Detective Marta Jessup, they uncover a sinister plot involving the wildly popular Mystical Morsels. But who is distributing them and why? Reg follows the trail to Tennessee, where with the help of her foster sister Erin, they track the mastermind behind the poisoned truffles.

But the danger is far from over as they discover the true motive behind the deadly plot and face a dangerous enemy who shows no remorse for the innocent lives lost.

There’s no sugar coating it—with time running out, Reg must use all her sleuthing skills to uncover the source of the curse and stop the distribution of the deadly desserts before more lives are lost.

It’s a race against time in this paranormal mystery that’s sure to leave you craving more!

Praise for Tainted Truffle Treachery:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ I could not put this one down until all was revealed and I will admit that I spit in the face of potential danger by eating a few truffles while I read this book.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ A great adventure, full of mystic twists and turns that will keep you fully entertained

Tainted Truffle Treachery is a paranormal mystery novel that will keep you on the edge of your seat. With a touch of witchcraft and a dash of suspense, this book is perfect for fans of small town mysteries and psychic detectives.

Fall under Reg’s spell today.

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Reg was happy to be home. Going to the Everglades for a few days to visit Etienne and his new wife, Ilka, had been a nice diversion and helped her to get her mind off of recent events in Black Sands. Still, it was always nice to get home again. She was happy to have a home to go to after so many years of being shuttled from one place to another every few months. She had been in Black Sands for over a year. A lot had happened during that time, and it was home now. The little guest cottage she had rented from Sarah on her first day in Black Sands had become her sanctuary and home base. She ate and slept there, ran her psychic business holding readings and seances there and, of course, there was Starlight.

She put down the cat carrier and let out the black and white tuxedo cat with a white splash on his forehead. Starlight took his time oozing out of the carrier, arching his back, and then elongating all his muscles, vibrating with the joy of the stretch. Reg reached down and scratched his ears and then along his back, hoping it would help to work out any fatigue or soreness from their trip. She wished someone would come and give her a back rub and massage. It wasn’t like she’d been traveling all day, but the three-legged trip—first on donkey, then airboat, and then car—had seemed very long.

Of course, Corvin would be happy to get a call from her to massage her sore body, but he wouldn’t stop there. She would feel good for a while, but he would strip her of her powers, which she knew from sad experience was not something she could tolerate. She would go crazy with the silence in her own head. She was too used to the other voices there, always vying for her attention, and didn’t know how normal people lived with the silence.

She let out a noisy sigh at the thought of Corvin. She had expected the phone to ring as soon as she got in the door, Corvin asking if she were home and when he could see her. Having shared magic, memories, and thoughts with her before, he had an uncanny sense of where she was and what she was doing. She could never quite keep him out of her head.

He had told her he had some news she would be interested in. Something that he couldn’t tell her over the phone—though that was probably just a ruse. He wanted a chance to see her face to face, just as he always did, so that he might get the opportunity to seduce her and take away her gifts.

But his words echoed in her mind. “I have a job for you. Something you’re going to want to do.”

A job? What would Corvin need her to do for him? He was very powerful and grew stronger all the time. She had to be careful of him, to always be aware that today he might be stronger than yesterday and that what had worked before would not necessarily work again.

She would find out tomorrow. She had managed to put him off for a day, which was probably why he hadn’t phoned the minute she walked in the door. Then she and the handsome warlock would sit across from each other at the restaurant of their choosing, and he would tell her about… whatever it was he wanted her to look into. Some little thing that he had made up to get her interest. A lost ring. A haunting. A friend who wanted a psychic to do readings at her birthday party.

It wasn’t going to be anything earth-shattering. She was sure of that.

* * *

Starlight marched directly to his bowl. It was, of course, empty. They had been away from the house for several days and she had not left food out for him.

He put his ears back in a grumpy cat scowl and narrowed his mismatched blue and green eyes at her.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Reg told him, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry that food doesn’t instantly appear in your dish the second we walk in the door. I think you can wait a few minutes while I put down my bags and splash some water on my face.”

Starlight gave a short yowl, which indicated he would not be happy to wait for Reg to take care of her own physical needs while he waited.

“At least you could curl up and go to sleep in your carrier on the way home,” Reg pointed out. And, of course, the carrier was lined with a soft blanket for his comfort. “You’re not the one who had to sit on a donkey. And those hard boat chairs.”

He did not seem sympathetic. Reg grabbed the plastic box of dry kibble and trickled a little into Starlight’s bowl. He stared at her, waiting for the good stuff.

“That will hold you for now,” Reg assured him, and walked by him to put her suitcase in her bedroom and take care of other matters.

When she returned to the kitchen, he was still sitting in front of his food dish, looking offended that she had only offered him dry kibble.

“You’re spoiled, you know that?” Reg asked as she opened the door to the fridge and started rummaging through the plastic bowls to find some tuna or stew that he would enjoy. “First, you insist on coming with me to the Everglades—and I told you it was a swamp, so you can’t complain if you got your paws a little wet—when you could have been nice and comfortable at home with Sarah looking after you. You’re the one who decided to go gallivanting around with the panther while I was visiting with Etienne and Ilka. I don’t know what you guys got into, but if you have an upset stomach or ticks, that’s your own fault, not mine. You’re the one who insisted.”

Starlight just stared at his bowl, unmoving.

Reg got the distinct feeling that he was trying to train her to serve him properly, and he could do without the constant babble. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.


He just looked at her, long-suffering, waiting for her to finally get around to putting something edible into his food dish.

Reg picked it up and added a couple of generous spoonfuls of tuna casserole, then put it on the floor in front of him. Starlight pushed her hand out of the way as he lunged forward to attack the tuna, poor starved cat that he was. His rumbling purr filled the room, and Reg couldn’t feel too annoyed at him. The purr was soothing and assured her that she had done what she was supposed to.

A positive reinforcement for performing the expected behavior, she supposed. All part of her training.

Humans took a long time to train.


Etienne and Ilka had been diligent in providing Reg with everything she needed while visiting them in their remote Everglades cabin. But all of the comforts of someone else’s home couldn’t replicate the feeling of falling into her own bed at the end of her workday, pulling up her sheets, and going to sleep. The bed was the right height and softness, not a hulking great thing she felt like a child climbing into. She couldn’t deny that her bed in the cabin had been comfortable, but it had not been right.

She slept well. She did not have any nightmares. She actually woke up in the morning feeling well-rested and refreshed. Exactly how she should feel after a holiday.

She could hear someone moving around the house and knew without seeing that it was Sarah. Firstly, because Sarah was the only one who had a key and could get past the protective wards that she and Reg had set to ensure that Corvin couldn’t walk into the cottage. Or anyone else who intended her harm. Also because Starlight had left the bedroom at the first stirrings of sound and there was no indication that he had attacked the intruder. Starlight was very territorial and, if someone who was a threat entered the cottage, he wouldn’t hesitate to shred their lower limbs. He wasn’t yowling for his breakfast, either, so Sarah had fed him.

For a while, she just luxuriated in the lazy morning warmth of her bed. What could be better? When she got up, she would have a good cup of coffee, check her planner schedule to see if Sarah had written in any new appointments for her, and just relax while she started the day at a nice, slow pace.

Sarah hung around longer than Reg expected, but she didn’t poke her head in to tell Reg it was time to get up. Reg heard her leave the cottage and decided it was time. She just didn’t want to have to deal with company before she saw Corvin. And if Sarah sensed that she was planning to visit Corvin… the old witch would not be happy with her, that was for sure.

When Reg got out to the kitchen and front room, Starlight was sitting on the back of the couch, watching birds out the window. He turned his head to look at Reg and made a small, satisfied noise of greeting. Sarah’s feeding Starlight before Reg got up eliminated the need for the dance around a howling, rubbing cat doing his best to trip her up and insisting that he needed to be taken care of before she’d even had one shot of caffeine. It was the perfect morning.

The new coffee maker was already cued up and ready to go. All Reg had to do was push one button, and the dark, fragrant coffee started to fill her mug. Reg breathed in the high-octane fumes, ready to enjoy her liquid breakfast.

And then the phone rang.

Of course.

And it was Corvin.

Of course.

Reg looked at his name and picture on the screen of her phone and didn’t answer it immediately. She waited for her coffee cup to be filled, then picked it up and carried it over to the couch, where she sat with her feet curled up under her, within petting distance of Starlight. By this time, her phone had stopped ringing but, before Reg could tap the screen to call Corvin back, it was ringing again. Reg swiped to accept the call and left it on the coffee table in speaker mode.

She took a sip of the scalding hot coffee before saying anything.

“Reg, are you there?” Corvin asked, sounding confused and irritated.

“Yeah. Just got to get some coffee in me.”

She expected to hear his usual low, sexy chuckle and for him to make some comment about how late she had slept in. But he didn’t. Reg took another sip of coffee, then reached out her senses toward him, curious about the lack of banter.

He was serious. Maybe not angry, but close to it. Not in any mood for Reg to be lighthearted or teasing. Definitely not the usual state of affairs.

“What’s going on?” she asked him.

“We’ll discuss that when we get together. Which I am hoping is before too long.”

“Well… I just got up.”

“Maybe we could meet for a donut. Or whatever other sugary confection grabs your fancy. Or one of those dreadful coffee-chocolate-caramel-cinnamon-whatever drinks you like so much at The Witches’ Brew.”

“I thought we could do a late lunch or early dinner. I’m not really ready to start into anything I have to think about this morning.”

“It won’t be morning much longer.”

“Which is why I suggested lunch instead of breakfast.”

Corvin gave an exasperated sigh. “When is the earliest you could drag yourself out of your lazy morning routine to meet me?”

“I’m not lazy. I was up late.”

He knew that she was normally up into the small hours of the morning dealing with seances or other readings. That was why she slept so late in the morning, not because she was lazy. Reg’s foster moms had always criticized her for being lazy, but Reg couldn’t help the fact that her brain was built to stay up late and not fully engage until late morning or early afternoon.

Corvin didn’t have to know that she hadn’t actually had any readings the night before and had gone to bed early, considering her usual schedule. She was being lazy. But that was the only way to start the morning after a vacation. The only right way.

“When, Reg?” he asked impatiently.

“Late lunch or early dinner,” she repeated evenly.

“So… one o’clock?”

“One thirty,” Reg negotiated, without even looking at the clock to see what time it was. She did not want to go with his first suggestion. She needed to show him that she had a mind of her own.

Though it wasn’t like he didn’t already know that she had her own ideas about things. She hadn’t exactly cooperated with him in the past. Except on a few occasions, which she usually regretted.

“One thirty, then,” Corvin said sternly. “Where do you want to meet? The usual?”

“The Crystal Bowl,” Reg confirmed. It had been a while since they had been to his private club, and she didn’t want him to think that the club was “the usual.” She didn’t have any intention of going back there.

“Good,” Corvin agreed, not arguing with her that he would prefer the club’s privacy, as he often did.

His behavior was certainly different from usual. Did he have something really serious on his mind? He’d tried to emphasize that in his previous call, but Reg was too suspicious to believe everything he said. Not even most of it.

“Don’t be late,” Corvin growled.

Then he disconnected. Reg looked at her phone for a minute, then sipped some more coffee, still piping hot.

What was eating Corvin?

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P.D. (Pamela) Workman is a USA Today Bestselling author, winner of several awards from Library Services for Youth in Custody and the InD’tale Magazine’s Crowned Heart award, and has published over 100 mystery/suspense/thriller and young adult books.

Workman loves writing about the underdog. She has been praised for her realistic details, deep characterization, and sensitive handling of the serious social issues that appear in her stories, from light cozy mysteries to darker, grittier young adult and mystery/suspense books.

P. D. Workman does not shy from probing the deep psychological scars of childhood trauma, mental illness, and addiction. Also characteristic of this author, these extremely sensitive issues are explored with extensive empathy, described with incredible clarity, and portrayed with profound insight.
—Kim, Goodreads reviewer