StillWaters:Book4oftheSophieGreenMysteries (33 page)

“Did I tell you you look beautiful?”

Oh Christ. Was he trying to kill me? Right now I figured I must look like a fountain.

“No,” I gulped, raising my head.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled. Properly this time. “Wanna dance?”

“It’s their song.” Even as I said it I caught Angel’s eye, and she spotted Luke, her mouth opening in a perfect O. Behind Harvey’s back, she gave me a thumbs up.

“I don’t think they’ll mind,” Luke laughed. He slipped his arms around my waist without waiting for me to say yes. But I guess he knew I’d have said it anyway. He just knows me like that. He loves me.

He loves me, and you know what? I bloody love him too.

I think the song might have finished at some point. Certainly people were clapping, but I wasn’t really aware of anything except for Luke, strong and sure and so hot I thought he might melt me. Was my dress flammable?

“How was Saudi?” I stammered.

“Hot.”

Just like you, then.

Luke lifted my head from his shoulder. “Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer.”

“I’m taller than you in these shoes.”

He laughed. “Okay, sod that. Want to find some sheets of linen to lay down in?”

Now, that’s my kind of lyric.

Kate Johnson

International Woman of Mystery

Er, okay, maybe not. There aren't that many stamps in my passport, and since I'm about to tell you all about myself, I can't be that mysterious, right?

I was born in 1982 (no, really) in the north of England. When I was two, we moved to the south-east of England. Then for a bunch of time nothing happened, until the summer after my GCSEs when I was bored and sat down to write a story. Then I wrote another. Then another. Many, many terrible attempts later, I gave up and got a job at Stansted Airport, where I worked before, during and after 9/11, checking in passengers and baggage for a low-cost airline. After I quit, I came up with the idea for Sophie.

My hobbies include
reading lots of books
researching my literary competition,
watching films and TV
researching through a broad spectrum of media,
drooling over
admiring the work of fine actors such as David Tennant, James Marsters and Richard Armitage, and being used as a bed/scratch-post/chew-toy/human slave by my assorted furbabies.

If you want to know more about the glamorous everyday life of an author, you can check out my
blog
, which is full of pictures of my furbabies and the men I fancy. I mean, whose work I admire. Ahem.

To learn more about Kate Johnson, please visit
www.katejohnson.co.uk
. Send an email to Kate at
[email protected]
or join her Yahoo! Group to get updates from Kate and her naughty alter-ego, Cat Marsters, at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/catmarsters

Murder: Guaranteed to ruin a perfectly good honeymoon.

One Too Many

© 2008 Marie-Nicole Ryan

When Miranda French finally emerges from a few days of connubial bliss with her new husband in an East Anglia inn, she eagerly checks out the local shops…

…and stumbles over a body. A mutilated body. The unfortunate victim was known to be a connoisseur of married women, so it’s a good bet that one of the ladies’ husbands is the culprit. If there’s any hope of getting back to the “honey” part of her honeymoon, Randi will have to take matters into her own hands and get involved in the investigation.

Detective Chief Inspector David French, Earl of Middlebury, has a lot more on his hands than an overly helpful new wife, planted DNA and more suspects than he can comfortably count. The killer isn’t done.

And sending Randi away to the safety of his estate may have been the biggest mistake of his life. She’s next on the killer’s hit list.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
One Too Many:

Wednesday

The next morning, David woke me up with a kiss. “Mmm.” I reached for him. “Love you.” He reached under the 500 count cotton sheets and tweaked my nipples which were on the tender side from all his attentions last night.

“Love you, too.” He turned to the dresser and adjusted his tie. “Have to go back to the village this morning.” Once his tie was perfect, he came back and sat on the side of the bed. “Did you speak with Mina last evening or will you call her this morning?”

I nodded. “Last night. I offered to meet them in Waterloo station, but she said she’d be happy to bring him directly here. So I’ve made all the reservations from Aix to Paris and the Eurostar to Waterloo, then to the local station. Robbie and I will meet them there.”

“Sounds perfect.” He kissed me on my forehead. “I miss that little fellow, but I’ll trust you to keep him occupied and away from the Green.”

I pretended to pout, but he saw through me.

“Good girl.” He glanced at his watch. “Have to run. Stafford’s going to give me a difficult time about running home for the night after I’d already decided to stay in town.” He said this in all seriousness, but with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“He’ll give you an even harder time if you’re late, too, especially since you had so little sleep. You’ll have to be careful not to yawn all day.” I winked at him, even though I wished he could stay and spend the rest of the morning in bed with me.

“Grr.” He wrapped his arms around me and the low growl sent a shiver through my entire body.

“If DS Stafford knew what a lusty wench you truly are, he’d die of jealousy.”

“And he’d better not hear what a wench I am, or I’d be forced to tell him that you’re insatiable.”

“A gentleman never tells.”

“Then you’re safe because neither does a lady.”

After another nibble and a pat on my behind, he stood, adjusted his tie again. “I really must leave.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Wait. You need some breakfast or coffee at least.”

He stopped and smiled. “Cook will have a thermos for me and breakfast for you whenever you want it.”

I pulled on a pale green silk robe, one from my honeymoon trousseau.“I’m going down now,” I said as I tied the sash loosely around my waist. “I want to walk you to the door.” Then I stopped. What if it wasn’t…? “Is it all right if I go down in my robe to see you to the door?”

“Guess what, darling? This is your home, and you’re perfectly decently attired…and extremely lovely, too.”

“Keep up with all these compliments and I’ll never let you leave the room.”

He swatted my butt and put his arm around me. “Come on, let’s go.”

Downstairs I kissed him good-bye at the front door and let out a big sigh. I still have a hard time believing this wonderful man married me…me with all my problems and insecurities.

I may have a few insecurities left over from the first marriage from hell, but this time I married my soul mate—a man who recognizes my value in his life, wants to protect me and adores my son.

I must not be so bad, after all.

***

Daisy Mellon sat in her old Rover listening to the Acid Rain Checks’ latest tune on her iPod. It was way past time for her bugger of a boyfriend to show. Her head bobbed and she beat out the heavy metal rhythm on the steering wheel.

If he didn’t put in an appearance soon, she’d have to duck out and get to work. The ladies of the Green depended on her skillful hands to keep them beautiful, and she couldn’t disappointment them, not even for a quick snog with Jacko White.

She’d offered to alibi him for the morning of old Riley’s murder, but Jacko wouldn’t hear of it. Didn’t want his precious Evie knowing he’d been doing the nasty with someone else. Why he cared what his slut of a wife thought, Daisy hadn’t a clue, and maybe that’s why she’d told the inspector’s wife Evie was one of Riley’s tarts. And maybe she was.

The sound of a motorcycle reached her.

Good. About time.

She pulled her skirt above her knees and eased her knickers down. Jacko would have to hurry if they were going to get some this morning.

Jacko put his head in the window. “Wot you think you’re doin’? Already got your drawers down like a London tart.”

Smack!

She shook her head and wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. “What’d you do that for, you bloody bugger? It hurt.”

“There’s more where that came from if you don’t keep your bloody mouth shut about my wife being one of Riley’s whores. Don’t think I didn’t see you talking to your cousin wot’s the fuzz.”

“Not me. I didn’t say a word to anyone.” She eased back away from the window, but Jacko jerked open the door. “Now, Jacko. Calm down.”

He unzipped his pants. “Wot’s the matter, luv? Didn’t you say you liked it rough?”

“That was rough enough. Go on, put that thing away. I’m not in the mood now. I’m gonna be late for work.”

“You don’t think I came all the way out here to not get off? Spread ’em.”

She scooted back until she reached the opposite door, pulled her sweater up, exposed her breasts and then spread her legs. “Fine. Just make it quick. I ain’t got all day.”

Jacko fell on her and jammed his thing inside and started pumping for all he was worth without even so much as a nibble or a tweak on her tits. Pure waste of time for her it was.

“Oh, baby,” she cooed and hoped he’d hurry up and get his rocks off.

Anytime now, Jacko.

He grunted and collapsed on her. If that was the best he could do, no wonder Evie screwed around on him.

She counted, one to ten. “All right. That’s it then.”

He pulled out and shoved his thing back in his pants. “Great, baby. You were great.”

She guessed it was all a matter of perspective. Any time a bloke got laid, it was great. “You bloody bugger, you didn’t wear a condom.”

She heard the roar of a car motor. “Bloody hell.”

Jacko fell down on her again, ducked his head and waited until the car passed. “He didn’t see anything.”

“Go on with you. I’m gonna be late for work.”

He backed out of the truck and swung his leg over his motorcycle. “See ya, Daisy,” was all he said and roared off.

Bloody bugger. She sat for a minute then started up the motor, but she saw a figure approaching from the field. He waved at her. She shut off the engine and waited.

Now, what the devil did
he
want? They weren’t supposed to meet until later.

Life, love and unlikely legacies.

Reversing Over Liberace

© 2007 Jane Lovering

Willow runs into Luke, the university lust-of-her-life, ten years on and this time around he’s interested—she’s lost twenty pounds and found fashion. But their meeting turns out to be no accident. What is Luke really after, Willow or her new inheritance?

Her best mate Cal is gorgeous and…well…gay. Then reveals himself to be more than a mild, unassuming computer geek and she is no longer sure exactly who is telling the truth or who to trust.

Is anyone in her life what they seem to be?

Add to the romantic confusion, twelve pairs of rubber boots, two elderly spaniels, a pregnant sister and the unexpected contents of a matchbox and you get a funny, touching story of a woman in search of revenge and getting what she needs, rather than what she thinks she wants.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Reversing Over Liberace:

“Luke?” Katie was waiting when I put the phone down, her scandalometer clearly reading into the red. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing, nothing,” I trilled. “Well, not exactly, we just had a bit of a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Oh, right, about him moving out of the hotel and stopping at the showroom instead?”

“Ah, no. This was another misunderstanding. A different one.” Buoyed up and riding on the tide of goodwill that Luke’s admission had brought, I told Katie the full background to last night’s little, ahem, indiscretion on the lip frontage. When I’d finished, she frowned.

“Do you and Luke ever actually, y’know,
talk
, Wills? Or do you spend all your off-duty time shagging and communicating in mime?”

“What?”

“You do seem to have an extraordinary number of
misunderstandings
, don’t you? For a couple who are supposed to be so deeply in love that they’re planning to get
married
, there’s a lot he doesn’t seem to tell you about. And, please God, if you’re going around kissing strange men, the reverse is also true.”

“Cal…it wasn’t…it wasn’t
that
sort of kiss.” I said indignantly. “And of course Luke and I talk, don’t be stupid. It’s just, you know how prone I am to grabbing the wrong end of the stick and using it to beat myself.”

“Yes, but the stick does have to be held out for you to grasp in the first place.” Katie put her hands on my shoulders and looked me deep in the eyes. “I’m worried about you, Will. Okay, so Luke might have good reasons for all the misconstructions that have gone on, but it’s more that they’ve happened than what they’ve been about that worries me.”

“Well, my dear, worry no more.” I twirled around on my chair. “I’m going to suggest to Luke that we move into the flat next week and start living together properly. It can’t be comfortable for him camped out in the showroom, and we might as well start getting it all together. How do you feel about wearing peach for the wedding?”

“Will, if it makes you happy I shall wear a whole fruit salad,” she said solemnly.

“Willow.” The door opened and Neil came in. “Bloke for you in the front.”

“Good Lord, it speaks. Evolution in action.”

“Shut it, frosty knickers.”

“What, Clive not with you? Was the separation a success?”

“And you can shut up an’ all.” Neil grinned. “Dunno ’oo he is. Some weirdo. Bit of luck, he’s a mad axe murderer.”

He wasn’t. It was Cal, loitering about in the front office, looking at the photographs on the walls. (Man Rescues Tortoise—Pictures Inside.) “Hi.”