$3.99
Belinda's recent blunders have come back to bite her - and Bennett - in the monster cupcake. But they're not the only ones with problems.
A car crash uncovers the body of an unlikely murder victim. But the more they learn about her, the more the answer to her death seems to lie in issues that reach far beyond Portside.
As the truth comes out, and Belinda's personal life teeters on the breaking point, she takes life by the maraschino cherries, and finds help in unexpected places.
Also In This Series:
Cliffhanger (Book One)
Auf'd (Book Two)
Excerpt:
But she wasn't Belinda Kittridge tonight, and it was doubtful any of
them would want to talk to her. She was Maya Gilchrist, an out-of-town
cousin of Victoria's. Victoria had lots of cousins and cousins of
cousins, most of whom nobody in Portside knew.
The
clothes made her walk differently. The dress fanned out behind her like
a train as she took longer strides than she meant to, holding her upper
body like a runway model. Belinda gripped her oversized black clutch,
the metallic flecks in her nail polish catching the light from car
headlights. Her black heels clicked on the sidewalk.
She
froze, gazing around at the clumps of attendees–so many people she
knew. Belinda swallowed, feeling her mouth dry up, and told herself to
walk with confidence. She could do this. The worst that could happen is
someone did recognize her.
That thought wasn't helpful.
Gary
Wolman stood in the forefront, talking to the TV crews and other
journalists. Belinda sighed with relief that this wasn't all a big waste
of time. Victoria's instincts had been right.
Belinda
hung back to observe, and figure out her best move around the gauntlet,
spying out particularly troublesome associates. Like Colleen, who was
at the front of the line asking Wolman questions.
A
limo pulled up near her. Belinda glanced over automatically, and nearly
tripped on a crack in the sidewalk when Bennett crawled out.
He
was in a black suit that shimmered in the lights–definitely designer.
She could tell by the way the fabric hugged him. He had his hair combed
conservatively to the side, and had grown more facial hair since she saw
him at the hardware store–more than she'd ever seen. Then a woman
stepped out after him. A platinum blonde woman in a black, sequined gown
and red lipstick.
Belinda completely lost herself–or who she was supposed to be–for a solid minute and just stared blankly ahead of her.
Bennett
was selling things he owned left and right. He couldn't afford a
designer suit. Never mind one that had obviously been tailored to his
physique. He didn't show up at black tie events in limos with wannabe
Hollywood starlets. Who was this person? Where was her Bennett?
Well,
technically, he was coming toward her with a movie star beard in a suit
that could easily make her drool. But that was beside the point.
He was with another woman. A woman she didn't even recognize.
Belinda's
blood burned, and she gripped her clutch to stop from doing something
unladylike. Like stabbing that hussy through the temple with one of her
stilettos.
She
tried to concentrate on her task–and not gawking at Bennett. They
weren't touching, which was the only thing that saved that woman's life
that night.
Belinda drew her shoulders back to make her move into the crowd, when all Arkham Asylum broke out on that street.
No comments:
Post a Comment