Download Killer Blonde (Jaine Austen Mysteries) by Laura Levine PDF

By Laura Levine

A gal with a significant Ben & jerry's behavior and credit together with a tome entitled "I was once Henry Kissinger's intercourse Slave" cannot come up with the money for to be too choosy approximately employment possibilities. So whilst Beverly Hills socialite Sue Ellen Kingsley deals Jaine megabucks to ghostwrite a e-book of hostess information, it is time to sharpen the #2s. So what if Jaine has to take dictation from a rail-thin woman of relaxation in a bubble tub? satisfaction does not feed the cat and the doubtful facet advantage of this actual activity is an up-close, own view of the amorous exploits of Hollywood's ladies-who-lunch. the single vivid spot is sixteen-year-old Heidi, a lady after Jaine's personal middle. Shy, obese, and oppressed by means of her step-mother, Sue Ellen, Heidi might use a pal up to Jaine might use an best friend. yet every thing brief circuits whilst Jaine reveals Sue Ellen floating face down in her bath, fried through her personal blow dryer. Peroxided suspects abound, together with a truly inner most masseuse, a jealous nurse, a former video game express hostess...even a closet blonde with a shocking mystery. one in all them is hiding a murderous center in the back of dear highlights, and laine's out to show the killer's darkish roots. simply because blondes have adequate enjoyable with no getting away with murder...

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Additional info for Killer Blonde (Jaine Austen Mysteries)

Sample text

He thinks people are staring at him because he looks “dashing,” when the truth is they’re staring because he looks like a recent escapee from a lunatic asylum. Today at the Tampa Vistas Clubhouse, old Mrs. Farraday took one look at the toupee and said, “What a cute hat. Just like the one Omar Sharif wore in Dr. ” You’d think your father would be embarrassed. But no. He says Mrs. Farraday is senile and wouldn’t know a quality toupee if it sat in her lap. Even worse, now he thinks he looks like Omar Sharif.

Mainly because I was starving. I’d shown up at one o’clock that afternoon, as instructed. Conchi fixed us lunch, eensy weensy turkey Cobb salads, with hardly enough turkey to feed a flea. I snarfed mine down in nanoseconds, sitting on the toilet bowl. SueEllen barely nibbled at hers. Now it was going on four o’clock and I was ready to eat the wallpaper. “Mother and Dad came from old Southern aristocracy,” SueEllen said, flicking the dead skin from her calluses into the water. “By the time I came along, the family money was pretty much gone.

I’ll just give you the broad strokes now,” she said, spearing a particle of carrot. A. and became a model, and later a game show hostess, until she finally hit the jackpot and became Mrs. Hal Kingsley. When she came to the part about her job as a game show hostess, she demonstrated how she used to point out the contestants’ prizes, by making a flamboyant “L” with her arms. Left arm up in the air, right arm pointing to the imaginary prize. I only hoped she didn’t expect me to write about Game Show Hostess Positions in the book.

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