Roses Are Red; He's Dead (A Mellow Summers Paranormal Mystery Book 9) - Plot & Excerpts
They had a spa and it was open from six in the morning until nine at night. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. “Greg, I think I’ll go to the spa. You don’t mind do you?” “Nah, go ahead,” he replied. “Get that tension in your neck worked out.” He rubbed my shoulders a bit. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll see you for supper.” I pecked him on the cheek. “It’s at seven.” I waved at Greg, grabbed my key card, and headed off to the spa. The past few weeks, I had built up a lot of stress and my shoulders and neck constantly ached. The spa was brightly decorated with big windows to allow as much sunlight in as possible. Flowers lined the walls—real, not fake—providing a fresh aroma, which I found enticing and suddenly wished that spring would arrive. I was so sick of snow. “Hello, may I help you?” asked he lady behind the desk. “Yes, I was wondering if I could get a massage? Do I need to make an appointment or…” “Oh, not at all. Everything around here is available to our guests; no appointment necessary.
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