That dirty job done, a lovely evening turns even more delightful when she’s picked up by the cops and spends the next two hours at the Hall of Justice. Could this day get any worse? Of Course! Guess who arrives home to find a dead hooker on her living room floor?Handsome Parker Phillips, Rebecca’s new beau and the most attractive man she’s met in ages, is arrested for the murder. (Worse, she suspects he might actually have done it.)On the plus side, another very attractive man is following the case--reporter Rob Burns of the San Francisco Chronicle, a possible ally. And there are other possibilities.Fans of Janet Evanovich, Joan Hess, and Elizabeth Peters will get a kick out of this one.

    So when vandals romp through the local cemetery, she takes advantage of her newfound anonymity and its unforeseen advantages as she launches her own unofficial investigation.Despite her oddball humor and unconventional snooping, Ivy soon becomes discouraged by her failure to turn up any solid clues. And after Ivy witnesses something ominous and unexplained, she can't resist putting her investigative powers to work again. Even the authorities' attempts to keep Ivy out of danger and her nosy neighbor's match-making schemes can't slow her down. But will the determination that fuels this persistent, quirky sleuth threaten her very safety?

    She's gate-crashed a wedding... She's making money by secretly cleaning houses... And she's been asked to spy for Her Majesty the Queen.Everything seems to be going swimmingly until she finds a body in her bathtub... and someone is definitely trying to kill her.Length: 8 hrs and 9 mins

    But their first big client is a nightmare. She's a bridezilla who wants 500 custom cupcakes for her wedding. When Mel stumbles upon the bride-to-be dead-by-cupcake, she becomes the prime suspect. To save themselves and their business, the ladies need to find the real murderer, before the cupcake killer ices someone else.

    ("My sister's married to a Polynesian! I just love your culture!") So Sophie knows it's not paranoia, or post-divorce, living-alone-again jitters, when she becomes convinced that a crazed reader is sneaking into her apartment to reenact scenes from her books. The police, however, can't tell a good plot from an unmarked grave.When a filmmaker friend is brutally murdered in the manner of a death scene in one of his movies, Sophie becomes convinced that a copycat killer is on the loose...and that she's the next target. If she doesn't solve the mystery, her own best seller will spell out her doom. Cursing her grisly ending (why, oh, why did she have to pick the axe?), Sophie engages in some real-life gumshoe tactics.The man who swoops in to save her in dark alleys at night is mysterious new love interest Anatoly Darinsky. Of course, if this were fiction, Anatoly would be her prime suspect.

    This is a story of just one woman. As the story unfolds Linda gradually learns that some people do deserve to die, but that she is not one of those people. Linda Darby is a seven-year divorcee, living quietly in a small let-the-world-go-by beach town on the coast of Oregon, who day trades for a living. Her only close friend is a widowed elderly woman who manages a small consulting company, which, as is later discovered, never has visitors, sends and receives its business correspondence only by courier, and is not listed in any phone directory. No one in town knows what kind of consulting the company does, but the rumor is that whatever they do is done for the government. Linda doesn’t date local men. When her celibacy grows intolerable, she visits nearby towns to frequent the watering holes of successful men. Her motto: No relationships. No second dates. No use of her real name during one-night stands. Then one evening, Linda goes for a walk and nothing for her is ever the same. She is dragged into an alley by two men, but saved by a third, a stranger who disappears as suddenly as he appeared. The next day she finds out the two men in the alley had been killed, the town’s first murders ever. The following day she learns that hours before she had been dragged into the alley, her close friend was tortured and killed.

     After a scandalous divorce, Elise returns from the big city to her southern home town only to trip over the body of the town playboy. He leaves behind a heap of trouble that includes missing money, missing pets, and mourning lovers, and the suspects just keep piling up. Caught in her own drama, Elise is quick to wash her hands of it, until her best friend, Lavina, winds up as the number one suspect. Can Elise clear her friend’s name without ending up as the next one dead? Or are her friendship blinders keeping her from seeing the truth?

    When she moved to Stoneham, city slicker Tricia Miles met nothing but friendly faces. And when she opened her mystery bookstore, she met friendly competition. But when she finds Doris Gleason dead in her own cookbook store, killed by a carving knife, the atmosphere seems more cutthroat than cordial. Someone wanted to get their hands on the rare cookbook that Doris had recently purchased-and the locals think that someone is Tricia. To clear her name, Tricia will have to take a page out of one of her own mysteries-and hunt down someone who isn't killing by the book.

    Can she bag the culprit?Life hasn't been so sweet for Everly Swan over the past couple of years, but now that she is back in her seaside hometown and the proud owner of a little iced tea shop and café right on the beach, things are finally starting to look up--until a curmudgeonly customer turns up dead on the boardwalk. With one of her hallmark glass tea jars lying right next to him and an autopsy that reports poison in his system, it doesn't look good for Everly or her brand new business.As the townspeople of Charm, formerly so welcoming and homey, turn their back on Everly, she fights to dig up clues about who could have had it in for the former town councilman. With a maddeningly handsome detective discouraging her from uncovering leads and a series of anonymous attacks on Everly and her business, it will take everything she's got to keep this mystery from boiling over.

    And I'm good. Very good.But, I also have a little bit of a problem with placing bets on a sporting events. Not so good.Sometimes my little problem becomes a whole lot of trouble and I need to resort to some, shall we say, less than stellar actions to get out of debt. So, I become my alter ego, JoJo, and fix college basketball games. Hey, a victimless crime, no one's the wiser, and it's better than the alternative, which is a drive into the desert with my loan shark and a shovel in the trunk. Although, it has to be said, my loan shark is pretty good looking.I love Vegas, and I love the life I've built, but when one of my friends is murdered, and another one shot at, I know I need to take a serious look at myself. And I need to call in the big guns. Even if that means teaming up with detective Jack Schiller, a man who's dealing with his own problems. But dang, he sure is sexy.I'm just trying to juggle protecting my friends, helping sexy detective Jack while not letting him get to close, and finding a murderer. And, oh yeah, no one can learn about JoJo.Because if they do, there's no way I'll be able to bluff my way out.

    When Jack realizes the case shares haunting similarities with the murders of the missing girls’ aunts ten years before, it becomes clear that he and Jamie are dealing with much more than two girls who simply wandered off the beaten path.

    Throw in a gig as a phone sex operator, an unexpected hunk of a boyfriend, and a client's murder, and you have all the ingredients for the perfect chick lit romp. Even bloggers at Trashionista just had to read it: "A fabulous book.” Shy, funny, loveable Emily’s a pretty unlikely candidate for a phone sex operator. She’d die if she had to talk dirty face-to-face—especially to her hot cop boyfriend. She sure didn’t set out to do phone sex—she wanted to be a writer. But when her BFF framed her for plagiarism, she got in a tiny financial hole and saw this ad for “phone actresses”… Hey, it’s not nearly as bad as it sounds. No pantyhose or pantsuits, no regular hours, you’re your own boss, and lots of people to talk to. Guys, that is. But here’s the odd thing—lots of them want to talk about more than Emily’s imagined attributes; they start to think of her as the best friend they’ll never have to meet. Next thing you know, one of her customers gets killed. What’s a phone kitten to do? Solve the murder herself, of course! “Phone Kitten was a fun debut read with an interesting premise and some great characters – excellent chick lit.” -The Brazen Bookworm “Marika Christian's debut novel was one of the most fun reads I have had this year. Sweet Emily taking a job as a 'phone actress' has to be one of the funniest things ever.” -Just Jump A fun, refreshing treat for fans of Jennifer Crusie, Janet Evanovich, and Stephanie Bond, Phone Kitten is your ticket to hours of giggles—so long as you’re not looking for raunch. Because this is so not it! “When I first heard of this book I was intrigued; a phone-sex worker turned sleuth? Sounds like the perfect mix...a fabulous book. --Trashionista Excerpt: The girl who answered the phone sounded a lot like me. She was perky, upbeat, and wanted me to come in that night for an interview. The thought terrified me, but my only other option was Walmart. I heard Walmart locks employees in the store. I've often wondered what would happen if one of the employees were pregnant and went into labor while locked up. Would they let her out? Would her supervisor deliver the baby in housewares and slap a little smiley face sticker on the baby's bottom? Phone sex had to be better than twenty-four hour retail. The company name was Dimensions. Located in the back of an industrial park, it was a little scary. There was a gravel parking lot with a dozen cars and only one door with a camera to capture anyone who pressed the call button. I was buzzed in immediately. I wondered, Why does a phone sex place need this much security? I was met by Taylor, the bubbly girl I talked to on the phone. “Come on, I'll take you in the back and we can talk.” She wasn't what I pictured. Taylor was a tattooed Goth chick, with every piercing imaginable. Taylor isn't what most people envisioned when it came to “bubbly.” Once we were in her office, she quickly closed the door. “Look, we talk dirty here. The language is sexually explicit. You have to say it all. Tits, cock, and fuck. Can you do that?” “Yes.” There, I said it. I said I could do it. I hoped I really could. She whipped out a headset, plugged it in, and said, “I want you to listen to a call.

    It's a relaxing escape from her hectic life as a bookstore event manager . . . and from the stress of being Tarzana, California's latest murder suspect.For Molly, the weekly crochet group at Shedd & Royal Books and More was just another event to manage. Then she stumbled across the body of group leader Ellen Sheridan. Her complicated past with Ellen has made her a prime suspect, and after being cuffed and questioned, she could use a little diversion. Never mind that she doesn't know how to crochet. Granny squares don't look that hard to make.But while Molly's fending off a detective with a grudge and navigating crochet group politics, the real killer is at large. And it's up to Molly to catch the culprit--before she winds up in a tight knot.Delicious recipe and crochet pattern included!

    She carries her Sig 9 in her Kate Spade handbag, and her golden retriever, Rhett, rides shotgun in her hybrid Escape. When her grandmother is murdered, Liz high-tails it back to her South Carolina island home to find the killer. But when her police-chief brother shuts her out of the investigation, she opens her own. Then her long-dead best friend pops in and things really get complicated. As more folks turn up dead, Liz must use more than just her wits and charm to keep her family safe, chase down clues from the hereafter, and catch a psychopath before he catches her.

    Released from the magic pokey and paroled with limited power is enough to make any witch grumpy.However, if you throw in a recently resurrected cat, a lime-green Kia and a sexy egotistical werewolf, it’s enough to make a gal fly off the edge.Not to mention a mission…with no freaking directions.So here I sit in Asscrack, West Virginia trying to figure out how to complete my mysterious mission before All Hallows Eve when I’ll get turned into a mortal.The animals in the area are convinced I’m the Shifter Whisperer (whatever the hell that is) and the hotter-than- asphalt-in-August werewolf thinks I’m his mate.Now apparently I’m slated to save a bunch of hairy freaks of nature?If they think I’m the right witch for the job, they’ve swallowed some bad brew.