Rocky Fitzgerald is embroiled in another murder investigation and this time it’s totally not her fault. Well. Mostly not her fault. Ish. Yes, she did spontaneously adopt two kittens, and yes, their original foster mom was coincidentally murdered the next day, but Rocky doesn’t plan to get involved. Why would she? She’s got her life coaching clients, and her Insta-fame to maintain, and oh yeah, also her not-romance with her oldest friend-slash-frenemy (actual detective) Nichelle Crawford. Rocky’s too busy for murder. That’s what she tells herself right up until her grandfatherly demon pal enlists her help clearing the name of one of his proteges, whom he insists could not have done this murder. Demons don’t lose their tempers and stab people! It’s preposterous. Unfortunately for Rocky, that argument doesn’t hold up so well with Nichelle or any of the Fitzgerald cops. She’s gotta figure out who really committed this murder, and she should probably do that before the family Thanksgiving party goes to hell over it. Kittens are a bigger job than she ever bargained for, her cousin is acting weirdly suspicious all of a sudden, and Nichelle has no sympathy at all for an amateur sleuth trying to get a demon out of hot water. Rocky’s life has never been simple, but this is way too much. And just when she thinks everything’s worked out, a surprise arrest throws the family for a loop. Thanksgiving may never be the same.