Other Books

Corpse Whisperer



Amazon.com Customer Reviews
Bon: ‘Loved it!’ ★ ★★ ★ ★
Melinda: ‘Highly original!’ #9733; ★★ ★ ★
Stori Diva: ‘Ghosts that talk’ #9733; ★★ ★ ★

“Good. May I move in?”


“He doesn’t have a say in that,” Dolores said.

Grace slid her gaze to her new landlord.

“I have a few questions for Grace,” Zach said.

Bet he ran a background check. “Oh? Is your name on the lease?”

His jaw tightened around his already chiseled face. “No, but I have a vested interest in you being the right tenant.”

Grace looked at Dolores who said, “Just humor him. I have to get back to work. You need anything else? All the utilities are turned on. I took the liberty of putting them in your name, you just have to call the companies with the rest of the information.” She backed away toward her Toyota parked on the street. “The numbers are on the table by the door.”

“Thanks, Dolores.”

She waved a hand at Grace and slid into her car. Zach watched her drive away as Grace watched him. When he turned his gaze back to her, she handed him a box.

“I’m not a moving company,” he said.

“You want to interrogate me, you have to work. I only have today to move in and get settled. I work the next four days.”

He looked at the box in his hands as if it were an alien, then shrugged. “Fine.”

Grace didn’t look back to see if he followed her. She assumed he intended to extract information about her last residence and that last case. With a deep breath and a heavy suitcase, she braced herself for the onslaught.

“Tell me about Ridge Oaks,” he said when they reached the apartment above the garage.

“What specifically?”

So he had done his homework. Her name appeared in the database since she’d initially been charged with murder. A shiver moved her spine when she thought about those days.

“Tell me about the murder of your boyfriend’s mother.”



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Alchemy and Old Spice

Arsenic and Old Lace meets Birdcage. What is a niece to do when a spell her uncles did went wrong and killed a man. And she's visiting with her homicide detective husband



Amazon.com Customer Reviews:
Robert Goodman: ‘Morbidly whimsical and thoroughly enjoyable!’ #9733; ★★ ★ ★
Denise Speckhardt: ‘One Wild ride of laughs!’ #9733; ★★ ★ ★
Monica L. Hu: ‘Entertainment in Alchemy and Old Spice’ ★★ ★ ★

Excerpt:

“She’s due any minute now, Uncle Bill,” said Uncle Ted.

The squat man twittered around the tall, lean man. They’d been together forever and Bill didn’t know why Ted didn’t realize that he was always fashionably late. He gazed into his Cheval mirror and tugged at his sleeves.

“Hurry. Let me help with the cuff links. It’s daytime. Should you be wearing tails?” Ted said.

Bill swatted him away. “I’m fine. I can do the cuff links. I can tell your arthritis is acting up.”

Ted wrung his gnarled hands. “You’re right. Did you lock Martha in her room?”

Bill grunted. “No. She’s harmless. Besides, she’ll serve the tea.”

“And what else?”

He turned to Ted. “Stop worrying. We’ll meet Delaney’s man and everything will be fine.”

“But he’s a detective.”

“So? There are no bodies in this house.”

“Not today,” Ted said.

“He isn’t here to investigate a crime. He’s here to meet his wife’s family.”

Ted shook his head, his hand-wringing increasing with fervor. “Maybe we should have gone out.”

“You, my dear, haven’t gone out in ages.”

When he finished with his bow tie, Bill put his hands on Ted’s arms. “Hush. All will go well and they’ll be back to New York City in a matter of hours.”

“I’m being a goose, I know.”

Bill planted a kiss on Ted’s bulbous nose. “Deep breaths.”

A doorbell chimed a show tune and both men jumped. Ted hurried out of the room and down the steps. He expected his niece and her new husband. Instead on the doorstep stood Officer Hallahan and a very dirty looking man.

“Oh, Officer Hallahan. How nice to see you. Do come in.”

“I can’t stay, but this man needs a bath and a hot meal. Would you oblige? He isn’t dangerous and I know you’ll find him a home like the others.”

Ted licked his lips. Should he mention his niece is coming? He shook his head. She wasn’t due for another hour or so.

“Come in. What’s your name?”

He waved to the officer and shut the door behind him and the homeless man.

“Uh, Jeffrey Klemens. I’d appreciate a hot meal. Then I’ll be on my way,” the smelly man said.

Ted’s nose wrinkled and he turned away so the man wouldn’t see. “We’ll get you a quick bath or would you prefer a shower?”

Ted led him down a hall that bisected the house. Behind the kitchen was a room with a small shower and sink.

“Shower would be fine.”



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Along Came Pauly


A contemporary romance about a dog that brings two people together who don't want to be. She's a vegetarian veterinarian who needs cash for a no-kill shelter. He's the heir to a hot dog fortune who must give away money before he gains his inheritance. Sounds like a perfect match. It isn't. Along Came Pauly http://amzn.com/B00EN33QNI

Amazon.com Customer Reviews:
Terri Talley Ventures: ‘Great read, especially for dog lovers!’ Carmen Stefanescu: ‘A contemporary romance’ #9733; ★★ ★ ★
dabellm3: ‘Trust, dreams, causes and obligations’ ★★ ★ ★
Adrienne Woods: ‘A really beautiful story’ ★★ ★ ★
Simone Beaudelaire: ‘Charming clean love story’ ★★ ★ ★
Rochelle Weber: ‘Along Came a Nice, Light Read’ ★★ ★ ★
Excerpt:

Paul arrived home that night “Jeeves, I’m in love,” he said to his butler.

The emotion filled him with a sense of purpose. He had a name and a face. Now he could find the address. With Jeeves’ help.

Paul Vincenzo’s butler peered over his half-glasses. He sat at the giant island in the giant kitchen. “That’s the third time this week.”

Paul undid his bowtie, dropped it on the kitchen counter, and then pulled out his cufflinks. Jeeves just didn’t understand.

Paul thought back to the way her hair glowed under the chandelier. As if the heavens had shone a light just on her. He couldn’t have stopped looking at her even if he’d gone blind. “No, really. I met the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.

Jeeves put down his newspaper to sip from a glass of white wine. “I’ll bite. Who is she? A Greek heiress slumming it in New Jersey? No? A starlet on sabbatical.”

Paul shook his head. He understood the butler’s reluctance to believe him. Women had always been a salad bar to him. He’d wanted to taste them all, but this time it was different. Daria was different.

“Jeeves, I’m serious. Her name is Daria Jacks.” He’d liked the feel of her name in his mouth. Daria. He rolled it over in his mind. Daria. What an interesting name./

“And what does this fine specimen of a woman do?”

Jeeves’ question brought him back to reality. Not many people at the ball had even known her name, let alone where she’d come from. Like Cinderella, she’d lost her shoe. “I think she’s a doctor. Maybe a vet.”

“You think?” Jeeves lifted his paper back up to read.

“I didn’t actually get to talk to her.”/



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The Drinking Game
A homicide detective and an FBI profiler must join forces to track down a serial killer. Too bad the detective just wants to retire and the profiler is on medical leave. While fighting crime they fight their growing attraction for each other. The Drinking Game http://amzn.com/B004JF4GW0


Excerpt:

The hair on the back of Detective Sean Gaudette’s neck stood on end.

Ken Westin, his former partner, had summoned him here and now the man wasn’t answering his door bell. “Ken, cut the theatrics.”

An eerie silence answered back. Icy hands gripped his spine and his pulse quickened.

He was late, but Ken wouldn’t have left for the bar without him. At least the old Ken wouldn’t have. Sean didn’t think so. Of course, he hadn’t seen his old friend in several months.

Sean’s cop instincts told him all was not well in the state of Denmark. Looking around, no neighbors walked dogs. No one was about that Sean could ask about Ken. He half expected a tumbleweed to roll down the street.

He tried the solid metal door. With a creak it swung open an inch. Not good. Ken never unlocked his front door except to let in someone.

The low hum of adrenaline began in Sean’s blood. Looking in the window, he saw only darkness, no movement. Night had fallen a little early with the threat of thunderstorms.

Cicadas yelled as if they needed to announce just how hot it was. Sweat trickled down Sean’s back and he wished for a beer to drink and shorts to wear.

“Damn.” He contemplated calling for backup, but unless he could get a local cop, anyone from his office was at least fifteen minutes away. What had happened in there?

Flipping opened his cell phone, he dialed the Jenkins Crossing police. When he hung up a patrol car was on the way. The siren screamed to him in the distance.

Squaring his shoulders, he leaned back and kicked open the door. With gun drawn, he entered the house. Movement in the kitchen caught his eye. “Freeze, police."

The click of the sliding glass door closing notched up the adrenaline in his system. Break in?

Footsteps pounded down the wooden steps of Ken’s back deck. The open floor plan provided no hiding places, but the bathroom which Sean peaked into on his way to the kitchen. The action of rushing across the room would be suicide if he didn’t check for bad guys on his way.

Unfortunately, that gave whoever had just left, time to get out of sight.

Sean turned on the back light, but saw no one. “Damn.” Had he imagined it? A breeze rustled the leaves. No other sound reached his ears from the woods.

“Ken?”

Closing the slider, the detective turned back to the now even darker house. No boards creaked indicating movement. He swallowed as sweat pooled in his armpits. His mind ran back to another empty house on another dark night and the grisly discovery he’d made. He shook the stressful and unwelcome thoughts out of his brain.

“Freeze,” someone commanded from the front door.

Sean’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m the one who called you.”

Sean approached the uniform with his hands visible. He hoped he was approaching a uniform. The outside streetlight made the man only a silhouette. He hated staring down the barrel of someone else’s gun.

When the copper didn’t put down his weapon, Sean identified himself, flashing his badge. “I think someone went out the back door. Search the woods behind here.”

Still waiting for the cop to react, Sean started up the stairs, thankful his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Dread tugged at his feet, slowing his steps.

Snap out of it. You have a job to do.

“Ken?” he called, though he no longer expected an answer. He hoped his friend had gone to the bar without him.

His search of the upstairs proved him wrong. Turning on the light of the bedroom Ken used as an office, Sean found his former partner.

“Ken, shit.” Jamming his gun back in its holster, he strode a cross the tiny room and put fingers on Ken’s neck.

Sean’s eyes dropped closed as he withdrew his hand to call his office. To the person who answered he said, “We have a murder on our hands.” /