When Reagan Summerside turned the first floor of her old Victorian home into a consignment shop, she never imagined she’d be harboring a fugitive in her attic. But after a dead man is found in a bathtub and local lawyer Walker Boone is accused of doing the dirty deed, she suddenly has a new houseguest.
Having the lawyer who took her to the cleaners in her divorce settlement—and who has been getting under her skin ever since—in close proximity is enough to drive Reagan to distraction. For the sake of her sanity—and Walker’s freedom—they need to put their heads together to find out who is trying to get the lawyer out of the picture.
Mamma
and KiKi were sisters. At birth the muses tangoed over auntie’s crib turning
her into Savannah’s dance diva and they wrapped mamma in a blanket with little
elephants resulting in this campaign and me getting the name Reagan.
Friendship means being there for
each other when the chips are down, like when Walker Boone is wanted for
murder.
I looked at my ’57 red Chevy
convertible parked at the curb. “Might as well put a target on my back trying
to get away from the cops in this thing.”
Reagan shoved her helmet at me.
“Take Princess.”
“A scooter? You want me to ride a
pink scooter named Princess?”
“Better than that being your
nickname in the big house.”
And there are all kinds of
friendships…friendships between guys…
“Dawg,”
Big Joey said to me as I slip onto a stool next to his, everyone in the place
giving Joey space. “Know you’d show.”
Big Joey was built like a Mac truck,
muscles buffed to jet black, gold tooth, ponytail and main man of the
Seventeenth Street gang...my former home and forever family. He was my brother
in every sense of the word except parental commonality.
Friendships
between girls…
Footsteps skittered across the floor over our heads and I tore up the
steps, with Auntie KiKi right behind me. We turned the corner at the top and
faced a big guy with alcohol-infused breath and wild-looking bloodshot eyes
that I could make out even in the dark. The guy took a swing at me and missed.
KiKi threw the rest of her martini in his face and I added an added a cocktail
shaker uppercut to his jaw.
“I give up! I give up!” The guy stumbled back against the wall and
slithered down to the floor as I switched on the hall lights.
Hugs,
Duffy Brown
I look forward to these books every time one is being released. Ms. Brown is an excellent author with a wonderfully creative mind that I'm pleased to be invited in to.
Rating: 5 stars
I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All conclusions reached are my own.
