CONGRATULATIONS TO NIKOLINA V. WHO WON THE GIFT CARD. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO JOINED THE HOP.
SUMMER READ
SUMMER READ
What makes a good summer read? Back in the days before air conditioning things were slower in the summer because of the heat. We headed for the beach or the shade in the backyard. And we read. When I was growing up, I took a book and an old quilt out to the north side of the house because it was shady in the afternoon. Nancy Drew was my favorite. I read all Mom's books, and then I started getting them for Christmas gifts. The girl detective was my hero. When I decided to write a mystery, I knew I had to have a girl detective. Alex (Alexandra) O'Hara is a PI and would give Nancy Drew a run for her money in THE CASE OF THE BYGONE BROTHER.
After taking over O’Hara & Palzetti, Confidential
Investigations from her dad and his partner, Alex's bottom line has
taken a plunge. So when a femme fatale offers her the case of a lifetime along
with a huge advance, Alex sees her finances on a definite upswing. But someone
doesn’t want her to find the long-lost brother. Complicating matters is the
return of Alex’s old heartthrob, Nick Palzetti. Is he really there just to see
her or does he have an ulterior motive? The Lake Michigan resort town of Fair
Haven is abuzz with the news that O’Hara & Palzetti are together again.
Excerpt from THE CASE OF THE BYGONE BROTHER
“Hello,
gorgeous.”
I whacked my
head on the display shelf.
Well, what would
you do if you were lying across the top of a four-drawer lateral file cabinet,
and your arm—yardstick attached—was wedged between the wall and the cabinet,
trying to retrieve the license renewal application that if you mangled, crushed
or couldn’t get would mean the end of your business, and the
ex-love-of-your-life stood in the doorway looking at your butt?
The shelf shook
on its braces from contact with my head. Never mind that the encounter didn’t
do much for the aforementioned body part. The Fair Haven Chamber of Commerce
awards rattled, and signed Detroit Tigers baseballs pelted my head, shoulders,
and the back of my thigh. I dropped the yardstick and swore.
“I thought you
promised your mother you wouldn’t swear anymore.” He would remind me of that
vow.
“Relapse,” I
muttered as I looked over my shoulder.
In that
loose-limbed, cocky manner I once thought scary, sexy, and so cool, Nick
Palzetti stood in the doorway to the spare office. He even dressed the same in
a black leather jacket, black knit shirt, and jeans that molded his hips.
Lordy, he could still make my mouth go dry.
As I wiggled
back and sideways across the long cabinet, I felt my skirt ride up. Of all days
to wear a skirt. With my foot, I searched for the desk chair I’d climbed to get
on top of the cabinet. I’d kicked off my high heels before standing on the
chair, probably the only smart thing I’d done so far.
“Red panties,
you naughty girl.”
I clamped my
legs together. “Quit looking up my skirt.”
“Need a hand?”
he asked.
The way my luck
was going, he’d start clapping. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”
My foot finally
found the chair. It spun away. I swore again. Mom would understand.
“Don’t you know
better than to climb on things that move?”
“Gee, I never
heard that before.”
Thanks to said
skirt and gravity, I started to slide. I grabbed the back of the cabinet and
dangled, the front edge digging into my ribs. I could have let go. The cabinet
was only five feet high and full. Otherwise it would have toppled over,
crushing me. Now, that might have been a good thing. It would’ve put me out of
my misery.
Two hands
grabbed my waist. Normally, I liked a man’s hands on me. Just not the man who
broke my heart fifteen years ago. “Okay, Lexie. I’ve—”
“Don’t call me
that,” I snapped. “I go by Alex.” Probably not the best time to assert my name
choice.
“Okay, Alex. I’ve got you.” He did. I tried to
twist away, lost my grip on the cabinet and fell.
“Gotcha,” he
said, a half sec before we tumbled to the hardwood floor. He must have twisted
because I landed on top of him. That had to hurt. With my height, I was no
light-weight. I looked through a curtain of red. My carefully arranged, very
professional chignon had tumbled down. Like the song, thanks to Nick Palzetti,
I’d come undone.
“Another fine
mess you’ve gotten me into.” I hooked a hank of hair behind my ear and propped
my elbow on his chest. “Just like Indiana Jones, hey, Nick? I always knew you’d
come back through my door. Of course, I’d rather it was Indy, instead of you.”
What are you reading this summer?
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Have fun! And happy summer reading.
