If you work in the tourist industry in the Caribbean, summer is a time of too much heat and too little money. Boutique owner Kristen Maroney is busy trying to sell off last season's inventory when her friend Claire tells her that a mutual friend, Flor, is a victim of a shady real estate deal. Thinking only to help Flor, Kristen unearths widespread real estate fraud. Unhappy at the exposure, the fraudsters come after Kristen in a big way, and she is forced to bring them to justice or suffer irreparable harm.
Excerpt:
Our house was almost in view when I heard Buster yelp and felt myself being lifted off the ground. I held onto the leash with one hand and fought to free myself with the other. Lengths of rope crisscrossed my body and Buster struggled wildly in the air beside me. I reached over and unsnapped his lease, hoping it would help him escape, but we both seemed to be entangled in some sort of net, like the ones they use to trap wild animals.
I grasped a section of rope by Buster’s nose and stuck my feet into the bottom of the square made by the design of the net. Then I grabbed the top of the square and pulled up with all my might while pushing down with my feet. The square stretched enough that Buster could slip his head through. I pulled and pushed some more and shoved Buster’s head and front legs all the way out. He seemed to get what I was trying to do because he wriggled his back end to propel his head and shoulders forward. I disentangled the rope squares around his rump until he was able to jump the five feet to the ground. To my relief, he looked unhurt and began to bark frantically.
“Go to Liz. Go back to Liz” I called. But then, too late, I saw what he was barking at. Two black figures in ski masks came at me with baseball bats. I curled up in the best fetal position I could manage, arms wrapped around my head, and tried to get the trap swinging as much as possible. I figured if I was moving it might be harder to land solid blows. Nevertheless horrendous blooms of pain burst out on my back, arms and legs. A blow found my ankle. I screamed and lost control of my bladder. Buster had stopped barking, and I wondered if I’d finally gotten my beloved companion killed.
Excerpt:
Our house was almost in view when I heard Buster yelp and felt myself being lifted off the ground. I held onto the leash with one hand and fought to free myself with the other. Lengths of rope crisscrossed my body and Buster struggled wildly in the air beside me. I reached over and unsnapped his lease, hoping it would help him escape, but we both seemed to be entangled in some sort of net, like the ones they use to trap wild animals.
I grasped a section of rope by Buster’s nose and stuck my feet into the bottom of the square made by the design of the net. Then I grabbed the top of the square and pulled up with all my might while pushing down with my feet. The square stretched enough that Buster could slip his head through. I pulled and pushed some more and shoved Buster’s head and front legs all the way out. He seemed to get what I was trying to do because he wriggled his back end to propel his head and shoulders forward. I disentangled the rope squares around his rump until he was able to jump the five feet to the ground. To my relief, he looked unhurt and began to bark frantically.
“Go to Liz. Go back to Liz” I called. But then, too late, I saw what he was barking at. Two black figures in ski masks came at me with baseball bats. I curled up in the best fetal position I could manage, arms wrapped around my head, and tried to get the trap swinging as much as possible. I figured if I was moving it might be harder to land solid blows. Nevertheless horrendous blooms of pain burst out on my back, arms and legs. A blow found my ankle. I screamed and lost control of my bladder. Buster had stopped barking, and I wondered if I’d finally gotten my beloved companion killed.
