Tropical boutique owner Kristen Maroney is lying low in an effort to recover from a broken leg that she suffered while trying to help a friend with a real estate problem. The last thing she wants is more drama in her life. But her faithful friend and neighbor, Liz, needs her to make an inquiry and she doesn’t feel she can say no. Little does she know that a simple computer search will lead to carrying a loaded handgun in order to protect herself from murderous traffickers who are hot on her trail.
Excerpt:
You’re probably wondering how the good life in paradise can lead to scars and broken bones. It has to do with what some see as a character flaw: I’m determinedly curious and solution-oriented. Where there’s a mystery I have to investigate; and where there’s a problem I have to solve it. Myself, I think those are good qualities: they prove that I’m intelligent and engaged. Things come up, and rather than avoid them, I get busy. It’s my nature, and it drives Conrad crazy, as well as alarming Liz and other friends.
One humid September evening, Buster and I arrived home from the shop to find a note from Liz stuck to the kitchen door. “Come by,” it said simply. Liz can be curt, but the note still struck me as strange for a number of reasons. First, Liz had never done that before. Second, she could have called me at the shop rather than walking to my house in the withering heat. She’s in her late sixties and though fit, she tires easily. Third, as I said, I drop by her house routinely, so why the invitation? Or was it a summons? At any rate, I figured Buster and I should get over there right away. So, I postponed dinner, though I’d been dreaming of the conch stew that was waiting for me in my refrigerator. I did give Buster his kibble and stewed chicken because like me, he’s a foodie, and there was no use in both of us going hungry. Besides it takes about 10 seconds for him to polish off a meal.
Excerpt:
You’re probably wondering how the good life in paradise can lead to scars and broken bones. It has to do with what some see as a character flaw: I’m determinedly curious and solution-oriented. Where there’s a mystery I have to investigate; and where there’s a problem I have to solve it. Myself, I think those are good qualities: they prove that I’m intelligent and engaged. Things come up, and rather than avoid them, I get busy. It’s my nature, and it drives Conrad crazy, as well as alarming Liz and other friends.
One humid September evening, Buster and I arrived home from the shop to find a note from Liz stuck to the kitchen door. “Come by,” it said simply. Liz can be curt, but the note still struck me as strange for a number of reasons. First, Liz had never done that before. Second, she could have called me at the shop rather than walking to my house in the withering heat. She’s in her late sixties and though fit, she tires easily. Third, as I said, I drop by her house routinely, so why the invitation? Or was it a summons? At any rate, I figured Buster and I should get over there right away. So, I postponed dinner, though I’d been dreaming of the conch stew that was waiting for me in my refrigerator. I did give Buster his kibble and stewed chicken because like me, he’s a foodie, and there was no use in both of us going hungry. Besides it takes about 10 seconds for him to polish off a meal.
