Balmy weather in store… with a chance of death.
Raina Sun is cashing in a gift certificate for a free hairstyle from the town’s premier beauty salon and day spa. No more walking dandelion head, thank you very much. Life is on the up-and-up—until she finds an attacker holding her best friend in a headlock outside the treatment rooms.
She never thought she would spend her birthday pinned against a rice paper screen, gagging on a mouthful of seaweed, with the attacker plucking at her best friend’s weave like a farmwife de-feathering a chicken.
The storm is far from over. When the attacker ends up six feet under, her best friend becomes the prime suspect. Raina summons her sleuthing skills to jump full-tilt into this murder investigation to clear her best friend’s name. With her stink-bomb-toting grandma and the geriatric posse, she soon discovers death is easy, and it’s the living that kills to protect the dead.
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WHAT THE READERS ARE SAYING
“I was laughing out loud at this mystery that reminded me of Stephanie Plum & her grandmother.” ~Nicki Mech
“I enjoyed this fun cozy mystery with zany characters, witty dialogue, small town vibe, family drama, interesting suspects and captivating plot that kept me entertained and engaged from beginning to end.” ~ Pamela R Mitchell
“A very well written, hilarious mystery. I loved it.” ~Suellen Bonine
FROM INSIDE THE BOOK
The building shook, rattling the overhead light fixture. The pile of paperwork on the chair spilled onto the floor.
Raina’s wide eyes studied the other two women. Was that a bomb?
Myra Jo, her face pinched and white, crouched in her seat. Eden’s gaze scanned the room, looking for a threat.
The office door banged open and Walt stuck in his head, his eyes bright and alert. Something snapped him out of his reverie. “Myra Jo, a car ran into the side of the building. Connie is on the phone with the police.”
Myra Jo stood, swaying slightly until she stiffened. “Oh, my God. Could this day get any worse?” She followed the receptionist outside with Eden hot on her heels.
Raina trotted after the two women, but lost track of them in the gathering crowd and unfamiliar building. Once again, women left their beauty treatments to check out the ruckus. If there was no special run on the Gold Springs Weekly tomorrow morning, then Eden was slacking off. Raina followed the herd outside and to the rear of the building. She squinted against the bright sunlight.
At the flash of red, Raina raced toward the crash scene with her heart in a vise. Please don’t let it be Po Po’s car. Her grandmother was still in San Francisco but had left her car keys with her BFF in case the car had to be moved from the senior center parking lot.
A red Miata—with her grandmother’s license plate—stuck out from the beauty salon side of the day spa, having shattered three of the glass storefront windows. Part of the black-and-white-striped canopy covered the car like a shroud.