Sherry Harris
When Sarah Winston's estranged brother Luke shows up on her doorstep, asking her not to tell anyone he's in town—especially her ex, the chief of police—the timing is strange, to say the least. Hours earlier, Sarah's latest garage sale was taped off as a crime scene following the discovery of a murdered Vietnam vet and his gravely injured wife—her clients, the Spencers.
BUT IS...
When Sarah Winston started the virtual garage sale, it seemed like a keystroke of genius and the next logical step in her business. No more collapsing card tables and rainy-day washouts. But what began as a fun way to run garage sales during the long New England winter has become a nightmare of managing people and putting out fires. Online, she can avoid the crowds—but not the crazies.
May Be Her Last
She...
A garage sale fanatic searches for evidence to clear her cheating ex of murder in this cozy mystery series opener.
Starting your life over at age thirty-eight isn't easy, but that's what Sarah Winston finds herself facing when her husband CJ runs off with a 19-year-old temptress named Tiffany. Sarah's self-prescribed therapy happily involves hitting all the garage and tag sales in and around her small town of Ellington, Massachusetts.
When it comes to running a successful garage sale, Sarah Winston believes in doing her homework. She also believes in giving back. But when she agrees to manage an athletic equipment swap, she doesn't bargain on an uncharitable killer. The day of the event, the school superintendent is found dead in the gymnasium.
HAS SARAH PLAYING DEFENSE
Suddenly the murder suspects are the school board members—including...
In this cozy mystery by the author of Tagged for Death, this little town's garage sale is full of hot deals and cold-blooded murder.
When Sarah Winston turns Ellington, Massachusetts, into New England's largest garage sale for a day, it's the small town's biggest event since the start of the Revolutionary War—but without the bloodshed. That is, until a valuable painting goes missing . . . and the lifeless body of an Air