R.E. Merrill (Robin Merrill) has written more than 70 books spanning multiple genres and pen names. She writes from rural Maine, where she is assisted by two cats and a dog who thinks he's a cat. She grew up reading Trixie Belden and watching Murder, She Wrote. Doesn't that explain a lot? Visit her at robinmerrill.com.

Minivan Mayhem by R.E. Merrill

Bad guys, beware: There's a soccer mom hot on your trail.

With three kids, Sandra's life is a whirlwind of activity. Yet, sometimes she's a little bored.

When a referee drops dead during her son's soccer game, and a short man claiming to be an angel asks her to help investigate—suddenly, life's not such a routine. The angel (could he really be an angel?) tells her to go undercover as a soccer referee, which, of course, is ridiculous. She hasn't run anywhere since high school.

But Sandra will find out she is still capable of far more than she thought—with a little help from above.

CURATOR'S NOTE

Moms do it all. Taking care of the kids, attending soccer practice, talking to angels, and solving murders. Okay, so maybe not a typical mom after all, but a lovely book! – Leah R Cutter

 

REVIEWS

  • "Robin Merrill brings to life a zany and quirky mystery that is entirely original and creative which makes for a fun and humorous treat."

    – Readers’ Favorite

  • "I absolutely loved this book, and I can't wait to read more in this series."

    – Kobo Reviewer

  • "As always, Robin Merrill has put together another exciting and funny murder mystery."

    – Amazon Reviewer

  • "This book by Robin Merrill has it all from babies to soccer moms to school principals to bullies and bad guys!"

    – Amazon Reviewer
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

"My name is Bob."

"Well, Bob, I don't know you. And it is raining. And I am not wearing a raincoat. And I need to get home before my ice cream melts." She started to open the minivan door again. Again, he put his hand on it and prevented her from doing so. This time, she tried to pull it open anyway, against his resistance, but the door didn't budge. This small man is stronger than he looks. She looked him in the eye. His eyes were brown, soft, and gentle. "Get your hand off my car or I will tell my son to call the police."

He didn't move his hand. He looked in the car and said, "Your ten-year-old has a cell phone?"

"How do you know my son is ten, and no, he is currently playing a game on my cell phone. Last warning. I will tell him to call—" She stopped talking because she saw a police officer crossing the parking lot. She started to call out "Officer!" but Bob clamped a hand over her mouth so all she got out was "Off!" which was also appropriate in this case. She pushed him in the chest. "Do not touch me!" Then she tried to hail the cop again.

Again he placed his hand over her mouth, but this time he held it there and leaned in close to whisper to her. "Don't do that! You're just going to make a fool of yourself, and I don't want to cause you any trouble."

He sounded sincere enough, but she couldn't believe he could mean such words while he was actively trying to smother her. She brought her knee up fast, homing in on his groin area, but he seemed to know it was coming and twisted his hips to protect himself. She longingly watched the police officer getting farther and farther away.

She saw a woman approaching a pickup parked nearby. Sandra widened her eyes at the woman as if to plead for help, but the woman just looked at her as if she were looking at a crazy person and hurriedly got into her truck.

"I will explain," Bob said, "but you've got to promise not to draw any more attention to us."

Sandra nodded quickly.

Bob removed his hand.

"They can't see me," he said. "Only you can see me."

For several seconds, Sandra did not respond to this. Then she said, slowly, "I beg your pardon?"

"No one else can see me. Only you. Even your kids can't see me. Actually, the baby can, but Peter and Joanna can't. If they weren't staring at screens right now, they'd wonder why their mother was standing in the parking lot talking to herself while their ice cream melts."

Sandra looked through the window at Sammy, who was chewing on his fingers and grinning foolishly. Then she looked at Bob. "Why can Sammy see you?"

"All babies can see me." He took a deep breath. "Sandra, I'm an angel of the Lord, and I really need you to tell me what Frank Fenton said to you before he died."