Darn it, never take a trip abroad as it could be your last, "Curtain call."
You know back in my day they would call them 'cattle calls' or so they were termed when I was modeling however, in this case it's more like, "New York, Here I come!" with Maud as the main feature on stage and Florence as her side kick.
These two are meant for each other and will eventually self destruct as all narcissists eventually do but not before leaving a trail of destruction.
My word, jobs in the publishing biz are hard to come by and you would think murder would be a pre-requisite to getting hired.
Now, did someone just mention a compost pile in the backyard? A plane trip to Morocco? And a dead body by way of Nick?
Oh, for the love ....these aliases are driving me bonkers but I get it, it's all fun and games till someone gets hurt.
Speaking of which where is Maud aka Helen aka Jeanette Byrd (Jenny) or whatever other names she goes by these days?
Wasn't Florence hired to help her for her completion of this novel by conducting research?
The words are jumping off the page but what was that about a car accident and a cliff?
Wasn't Helen Wilcox the victim of a car crash a week ago?
My head is spinning overtime with this one in an effort to keep it straight... so word to the wise -show up prepared and be ready to answer questions as these poor police officers have their work cut out for them.
This is wild, woolly, and hairy all the same.
Keep the journal handy and enjoy!
Thank you to Alexandra Andrews, the pub, NetGalley, and Amazon Kindle for this ARC in exchange for this honest review.
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