Sugar & Shadows (Maplewood #3)

Itrudged through the snow, cursing. How the hell had so much accumulated so close to April? We’d just turned a corner. Now another storm? It had been falling steadily all day, fat flakes dancing in the air.

And now that the wind had picked up and the sun had begun to set, it fell faster and the temperature had turned bitingly cold.

While I was at the library, Mom had handed me a bag of books and a loaf of banana bread and instructed me to drop it off at Marigold’s house. She said she was “under the weather,” but she didn’t meet my eye when she said it.

Though she owned a farm and rented the house and land to Logan, she lived off Market Street in a wildly painted Victorian. The house was large and stately with an enormous door knocker, but the fuchsia and lime green paint softened the grandeur.