Is 'Breakfast On Pluto' Based On A True Story?

The Blue Moon Bed and Breakfast Inn is deep within the Canadian Shield in a small ski town called Evergreen Grove. Rumours have it that magical things happen at the Inn. With stories of a spirit of a lady in white and friendly staff that know exactly what you need before you even do. Maybe it's time for you to visit and see what happens when six people come to visit. The Germains are on a getaway in hopes to save their marriage. Greta Johansen is there scouting out for a ghost hunting television show. April Klein is a friend of the owner Gabriella St. James and an art influencer looking for something new. Daniel Davis is a painter in desperate need of some inspiration. Eric Devlin is a mystery man. He pays in cash and is clearly hiding from something. So come book yourself into the Blue Moon and see what happens from Jody Samuel's eyes the front desk clerk. With curses and blessings on this holiday at the Blue Moon, everyone is in for a surprise or two. Just ask the Boggart that lives in the pantry. Cover made by Getcovers.

Red Wine for Breakfast stars Jenny Reed, a 34 year old Californian from New York, who plays macho Monopoly by her own rules. Winner take all. And she had it all: the number one morning radio show on KKTM FM in Los Angeles, a wonderful best friend, and a nice noncommittal affair with the station owner, Brian Allen. Her career was all she needed. Success was all she ever wanted. Until Johnny King became her on air partner and challenged her to play his own game. The day she beat him was the day she gained his respect. It was also the day she lost her best friend in an apparent suicide ... or was it murder? Real life radio personalities and a front page drug scandal bring realism to a fictional novel set in Los Angeles where radio stations change formats like socks, and jobs are as secure as houses built on the San Andreas Fault. In a business drowning in testosterone, Red Wine for Breakfast is the story of strong, determined New Yorker who has to shake off the laid back attitude of LA to overcome the challenges of an industry that threatens to turn her off and a man who only wants to turn her on.

Samson Carroll's father, who is the CEO of Carroll Group, is hospitalized, and my sister decides to return to the hospital to work as a nurse. She throws herself into the role—donating blood, helping with emergencies, and keeping watch at his bedside around the clock. Soon, everyone's calling her a hero in scrubs. One night, she blocks the hospital room's security camera. She plans to kill the patient and forge a will so that Samson will marry her. I tell her it's too dangerous. The Carrolls are an influential family with deep pockets and powerful connections, after all. A few kind words and a forged will aren't enough to sway them. But she lashes out at me, calling me an idiot. She says that everyone in Jansbury knows Samson does whatever his father tells him to do. I drag her home, still trying to talk sense into her. "The Carroll family has ties to both the authorities and the underworld. They're untouchable," I explain. "If Samson finds out you lied to him, the consequences are unimaginable." Halfway home, she grows increasingly agitated. "Tonight was my only chance, and you ruined it! You're just jealous I'm about to become a rich man's wife! Go to hell!" Then, in a fit of rage, she shoves me into an open manhole by the side of the road. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I brought her dinner at the hospital.

After two years abroad in seclusion as I recovered, I received a selfie from my daughter, Lila Ashford. She was sitting on a bike, dressed in a work uniform. "Mom, you’ll be home soon, right? I miss you so much." My heart softened as I thought about how my girl had grown up. She understood that she needed to start from the bottom and work her way up. I was about to praise her when I noticed her skin seemed tanner, and her fitted shirt was the same one I’d bought her three years ago. It was frayed and worn thin, yet she still hadn’t thrown it away. As a child of the wealthiest family, Lila shouldn’t have to live like this, not even for "life experience". I zoomed in on the picture again. Her shoes were falling apart, the front gaping wide open. The more I looked, the more uneasy I became. The next second, I stumbled across Serena Ashford, my adopted daughter’s posts on social media. She was showing off male models, luxury cars, and on her wrist, the global limited-edition diamond bracelet I had given Lila. What shocked me most was the car that appeared in nearly every photo, the very one I had gifted Lila for her college graduation. How the hell had it ended up with her instead?!

My husband, a lawyer, tells his true love to deny that she wrongly administered an IV and insist that her patient passed away due to a heart attack. He also instructs her to immediately cremate the patient. He does all of this to protect her. Not only does Marie Harding not have to spend a day behind bars, but she doesn't even have to compensate the patient. Once the dust has settled, my husband celebrates with her and congratulates her now that she's free of an annoying patient. What he doesn't know is that I'm that patient. I've died with his baby in my belly.