This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding free ecopy of The Marquesa's Necklace and a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via the rafflecopter at the end of this post during the tour. Please click on the banner to see the other stops on this tour.
Harmony Duprie enjoyed her well-ordered life in the quiet little town of Oak Grove—until her arrest for drug trafficking. Cleared of all charges, she wants nothing more than to return to the uneventful lifestyle of a historical researcher she once savored.
But when her beloved old car “George” is stolen and explodes into a ball of flames, it sets off a series of events that throws her plans into turmoil. Toss in a police detective that may or may not be interested in her, an attractive but mysterious stranger on her trail, and an ex-boyfriend doing time, and Harmony’s life freefalls into a downward spiral of chaos.
Now she has to use her research skills to figure out who is behind the sinister incidents plaguing her, and why. And she better take it seriously, like her life depends upon finding the right answers.
Because it might.
The bus ride home seemed longer than the morning’s trip as I studied each person getting on for a potential threat. Was the little gray-haired lady with the oversize purse and shopping bag packing a handgun? Did the teenage boy wearing a long black coat keep ninja stars in his pockets? And the woman in her mid-twenties holding a little girl’s hand? Was the child was just a prop, borrowed for the afternoon, solely to throw off suspicion? In reality, was the woman a super spy waiting for a chance to drug me and cart me off to her remote hideaway?
Or not. Buying a new car became a priority. I toyed with the idea of a Harley. I envisioned it—me, dressed out in a black cat suit, wearing black boots with five-inch heels, striding into the biker bar across town. But it’s awfully hard to haul a laptop and scanner around on one of those things, let alone bring home the groceries. Maybe I would settle for a screaming red Corvette or Ferrari. My funds manager would think I‘d gone off my rocker.
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