The Retired Assassin’s Guide to Orchid Hunting blog tour through Rachel’s Random Resources includes an exclusive excerpt. Read, share, comment, subscribe.
Book Details
The Retired Assassin’s Guide to Orchid Hunting
Assassin. Gardener. Reluctant cat adoptee.
All Dante wants is to be left alone in the small New Zealand town no one’s heard of. No drama. No bodies. No questions. But then, of course, the orchid convention comes to town, and Dante is knee deep in suspects, intrigue, and red herrings.
On top of all this, Dante must navigate a mysterious woman from his past, cat issues, and the terrifying prospect of a first date. And he has to do it while fighting his instinct to solve problems the old-fashioned way: permanently.
The ‘Retired Assassin’s Guide to Orchid Hunting’ is a cosy paranormal mystery with found family, ghosts, a grumpy assassin and a sunshine gardener.
Come for the murder, stay for the cat, the gardens, and the New Zealand country charm.
Purchase Links
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DWVD5XRM
Author Bio – Naomi is a writer living in New Zealand. When not busy writing or raising her twin son and daughter, she spends her free time (ha!) surfing, kitesurfing, and retrieving her shoes from Max the dog.
Social Media Links –
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16314712.Naomi_Kuttner
https://www.facebook.com/NaomiKuttnerAuthor
https://www.instagram.com/naomikuttner
Excerpt
In which lamington cakes come in handy.
Eleanor knocked three times on the hotel door.
“Try to look a little less threatening,” she said to Dante, hovering behind her shoulder.
Dante scowled. He didn’t know how to look less threatening. Looking more threatening was doable, but
right now, he’d set the threat level as low as he could.
“Hello?” called Eleanor. “It’s Eleanor. And Dante. I’ve brought lamingtons.”
The door opened to reveal Stephanie, one hand tucked in her pocket with affected ease.
“Hello, dear,” said Eleanor. “Please refrain from drawing whatever weapon you’re hiding while we’re here.
I’d hate for you – or me – to get shot.”
Stephanie looked over her shoulder to where Dante stood, blocking out the light. Dante felt the magnetic
pull of his Glock, easily reached in his underarm holster .
“That goes for both of us,” she said.
“A fair deal,” said Eleanor. “Let’s agree on ground rules: no one shoots anyone else. Let’s also agree that
we help each other. You have fresh intel on Fiorelli, and we’re investigating her as a potential murderer. Mutually
beneficial, I’d say.”
Stephanie waved a wary hand towards the two sofas and coffee table in her room. Unlike newer hotels, this
room wasn’t a replica or mirror image of Avery’s. Instead, it took in a generous view of the harbour via a balcony
large enough to house two chairs and a small round table.
“I don’t know why you thought the professor’s death was suspicious,” said Stephanie.
“Oh, we have our sources,” said Eleanor. She didn’t feel this was the time to explain Charlie’s ghost moth.
“It’s nice that MI6 would pay for all this.” She gestured at the glittering harbour view.
“The pound’s strong enough for them to foot the bill,” said Stephanie. “And this mission has a high priority
rating.”
Dante decided not to list the ratholes he’d stayed in during his years of service. When he was junior, older
agents had gone on about how tough they’d had it, and it had grated.
Stephanie settled onto the couch facing them. Eleanor delicately straightened her skirt as she sat down,
angling her legs to the side to allow for Dante’s broad frame.
“Let’s start with something to eat,” said Eleanor. She set her bag on the coffee table and withdrew an
octagonal tin. Stephanie tensed as she levered off the lid. Then the young agent leant over, sniffing in
appreciation.
“I’ve never eaten home-made lamingtons before,” said Stephanie, as Eleanor lifted out the greaseproof
paper and laid the coconut covered cakes on the table. “They look good.”
“They are good,” said Eleanor. “I was runner-up in last year’s bake-off. It was a year of stiff competition, with
both Grace and Joyce fielding strong entries.”
Stephanie picked up a chocolate lamington. “Ok, I’ll bite. What do you have that could help me nail Fiorelli?”
“How about you tell us what you know?” said Eleanor. “Apparently, the information flowed one way last
night.”
“Hmmm.” Stephanie bit into the lamington and her face brightened as the flavour hit her taste buds. “It’s still
warm.”
“Baked fresh this morning,” said Eleanor, “as an enticement to full disclosure.”
Stephanie eyed the two of them — Eleanor perched demurely, and Dante in a more hulking mode on her
two seater sofa. “Fine. In confidence and the understanding that we’ll aid each other.”
“We want justice, same as you,” said Eleanor. “Dante checked your credentials last night. We are nominally
already on the same side.”
“Hmmm…” Stephanie took another bite of her lamington.
The cake seemed to have quite a salutary effect on her. Dante reflected that some of his past interrogations
might have gone better with fresh home baking.
