Dead and Breakfast (Caitlyn Craft Mysteries Book 1)

Caitlin Quist is a professional photographer who guides amateurs on photographic tours of Europe. From the outset, it is evident that there's something different about the group that assembles for the trip to the rugged mountains of southwestern France; Mr. Piper, a wealthy industrialist and his strange, blind Czech traveling companion; Joanna Capshaw, the recently-widowed wife of a dot.com billionaire, who never leaves her room at Chateau d'Arnac which will be home to the group for seven days; Amber, her gray-eyed step-daughter, who seems to have a fondness for dead things; the much too-talkative Mrs. Griffiths, who is convinced people are stealing from her room; Mrs. Wagner, a short-tempered termagaunt whose husband is far too quiet; and - most disturbing of all - Jeremy Farthing, who seems determined to make everyone hate him.

On the morning after their arrival at the chateau, Mrs. Capshaw awakes to the sight of Amber's twin - who drowned a year earlier in a New Hampshire lake - floating in the moat. Caitlin and Jill, the chateau's owner, investigate, but no body is found. Perhaps Mrs. Capshaw just wants attention. Perhaps she's going mad. Or perhaps what she really saw is even worse than what she imagined. Caitlin senses that, unless she can get to the bottom of things quickly, someone is going to die.

During dinner on their second night, Farthing cheerfully announces that a grisly murder has taken place in a nearby village, and that it's expected the killer is hiding in one of the nearby caves that dot the region. Before dessert, two unexpected travelers appear from the rain, seeking lodging.

When Farthing falls victim to a nearly-fatal accident, Caitlin knows time is running out. But the deeper she digs, the darker the secrets become, and the less she is able to trust anyone ... even herself. As the mystery unfolds, she is introduced to a world where the distinction between sanity and madness becomes blurred beyond recognition. One thing becomes apparent, however; somewhere, deep in the shadows, some unknown puppeteer is pulling deadly strings.