Аннотация
Can there be such a thing as too many men in kilts? Normally Liss MacCrimmon, proprietor of Moosetookalook, Maine's one and only Scottish Emporium, would say no. But that's before one of them turns out to be murderous. . .
The bagpipes are blaring at The Spruces, Moosetookalook's finest hotel, reopened just in time to host the Burns Night Supper, an annual celebration of Scotland's beloved poet, Robert Burns. In the midst of the long Maine winter, the festivities are just the thing to give the hotel a much needed boost--and to bring fresh business to Liss's shop.
But when the Scottish Heritage Appreciation Society arrives on the scene, they bring more than a hunger for haggis and a passion for plaid. The quarrelsome group harbors their share of long held grudges, and the animosity only grows as the whiskey flows. Then a fierce blizzard hits, trapping everyone--angry Scotsmen, hapless hotel staff, and Liss herself--inside.
It's a situation with all the makings for mayhem, and sure enough, it isn't long before a body is discovered, face down in a storage room, covered in tartan--and blood.
Lucky for Liss, she's got some good friends alongside her to help sort out the facts: local police officer Sherri Willett, and Dan Ruskin, the man who's got Liss all tied up in Celtic knots. But they'll have to work fast, before another body goes as cold as the snowstorm keeping them cooped up with a killer.
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