Yes, Harmony Duprie is back, and so is trouble in Oak Grove.
When a man is murdered in the back yard of the old Victorian house she is remodeling, Harmony is determined to locate his next-of-kin so he can be put to rest properly. But with her ex-boyfriend Jake out of prison, back in town and one of the suspects in the murder, she takes on the challenge of solving the crime.
Although each book in the series is a complete mystery, (no cliffhangers) the books should be read in order. The first book, The Marquesa’s Necklace, is currently on sale for only 99¢ !!!
Interested? How about an excerpt? Check it out:
Freddie nodded and climbed out of the ambulance. I watched with interest as he and the officer walked towards the porch. The officer, one of those people who used their hands to talk, waved them wildly in the air. The flashlight he held created a miniature laser show as he moved it about. But my attention was diverted when the paramedic discovered another ding on my face and applied the medication that stung worse than the original cut.
“Are any of those cuts going to leave a scar?” Luke asked from the peanut gallery.
“They shouldn’t.” The paramedic cupped my chin in his palm and moved my head back and forth, studying his handiwork. He pushed a strand of long brown hair that had escaped from my bun away from my face. “Not as long as she keeps them clean and they don’t get infected.”
One more thing for me to worry about. I tried to remember which cheek James Bond’s scar was on. Or were female PI’s supposed to be flawless? If so, I’d never qualify. My glasses were enough to eliminate me.
It didn’t take long until Freddie came back. “How long were you here before the shot was fired?” he asked. He seemed tired as he climbed back into the ambulance and stood opposite me, bending so his head wouldn’t scrape the roof of the ambulance.
“Maybe fifteen minutes.”
“And Luke and Joe were with you the whole time?”
“Well, no.” With Freddie back into cop mode, not friend mode, I got nervous. “I drove up ten minutes or so before them.” I glanced at the boys, and Joe shrugged.
“Did you go into the house while you were waiting?”
“No.” I felt the heat in my cheeks. “I thought I saw something moving upstairs, and decided to wait outside for them. It was probably just the reflection of a bird on the window, but I didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances. Besides, they were bringing the cleaning equipment.”
“Did you hear the shot? Was there more than one?”
What the hell? “No, I didn’t, I was singing.”
“Badly,” muttered Luke.
“Off-key,” added Joe.
I never claimed to be good.
“But we didn’t hear it either,” Luke said, defending me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Born and raised among the rolling hills of western Pennsylvania, P.J. MacLayne still finds inspiration for her books in that landscapes. She is a computer geek by day and a writer by night who currently lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. When she’s not in front of a computer screen, she might be found exploring the back roads of the nearby national forests and parks.
P.J. MacLayne can be reached at the following sites: