The Mansion On Beach Street (Daytona Beach Mysteries Book 4)

A Haunted Mansion, a Serial Killer, and a Reluctant Heroine

When Holly Donnelly finds a dead body in her apartment building, she doesn’t expect to be swept into a multi-state murder investigation—or into a haunted mansion filled with secrets, ghosts, and an excess of oil paintings. But nothing about Holly’s life has ever been typical.

While housesitting at an estate on Beach Street, Holly—accompanied by her loyal Chihuahua, Bina—gets tangled in a mystery that spans far beyond Daytona. With the help of Detective Cooper Honeycutt, whose charm is as distracting as his case notes, Holly begins connecting dots that point straight back to the eerie mansion. As danger closes in and a hurricane looms, Holly must confront her fear of commitment and her growing feelings for Cooper—all while trying to stay alive.

Filled with quirky humor, slow-burn romance, and just the right amount of ghostly mischief, The Mansion on Beach Street is a cozy-yet-creepy addition to the Daytona Beach Mysteries series.

Grab your copy of The Mansion on Beach Street and join Holly for a twisty ride through murder, mystery, and maybe even love.

Excerpt from the book

“Stop that!” I said firmly.

Bina looked up at me with her big brown eyes, as if to say, “Ah, gee, Mom!” Chihuahuas have a way of charming you into giving them what they want. However, barking at nothing at all was not tolerated. She barked enough as it was.

“I don’t see anything for her to bark at,” Mark said, looking in the direction Bina was barking. “Maybe she sees something I don’t.”

“There’s nothing there, Mark. Nada,” I said.

“I’m just coming to her defense,” he said, bending to his knees. “Right, girl? You’re protecting us from the boogeyman, aren’t you, Bina?” Mark stroked her body, and she wiggled in appreciation.

We were stopped in front of this grand old mansion that I walked by often. I loved this building. It was three stories of history and renovated glamour from when it was a new house at the turn of the century. The wraparound porch and turrets caught my attention the very first time I walked by. After that, I ogled the details of the house every trip with my little dog. The house, gleaming white with turquoise accents on the shutters and front door, was a showstopper. It was built by Charles Grover Burgoyne after he arrived in Daytona Beach in 1896. After that, the house changed hands several times until its present owner purchased the property at a time I didn’t know. I saw the owner come out the front door sometimes when Bina and I walked by, and occasionally when my boyfriend, Mark Hudson, joined us. We always waved at each other.

The owner, I guessed, was in his sixties, a bit stout, and on the short side. He had a severely receding hairline and a bushy white mustache. He seemed pleasant enough. What I would give to be invited inside to see the interior. I imagined it to be gorgeous.

I should introduce myself. My name is Holly Donnelly, and I write obituaries for a living. I love my work for several reasons. One, I work from home in an apartment above Goldilocks Salon on Beach Street in Daytona Beach, Florida. There are two floors above the salon, with four apartments on each floor. I’ve lived there for seven years. My mother keeps trying to persuade me to give up obituary writing and get a better job, but I refuse every time. I feel I am doing a service for the bereaved. Think about it—who has time to write an obituary when arranging a funeral or memorial? Under such stress and grief, no one is in the mood to do such a thing. Even if they wanted to, they’d probably do a poor job. That’s where I come in—the obituary writer. I perform a service that I am proud and thankful to do for people in mourning.