Your Eight O'Clock Is Dead (The River City Mysteries)
# Your Eight O'Clock Is Dead (The River City Mysteries) best selction# Your Eight O'Clock Is Dead (The River City Mysteries) You Here! Best Offers Today!
Product Description HIGHLIGHTS: A dead body. An innocent accused. A mysterious Russian and a hunky ex-cop turned accountant - both with deep secrets and hidden agendas. A lovable screw-up who wants to save her job, solve the murder and increase her love life in the process. But will she succeed before the murderer strikes again? First in a humorous mystery series. SUMMARY: Becca Reynolds is having a bad day. Her grandfather's lecture (#405: Eat a Healthy Diet or Die Not Trying) makes her late for her job at Daley and Palmer, the psychiatrists' office where she works as the office manager--her title, not theirs. Then her sausage and egg breakfast biscuit creates an oil slick that takes out half her desk, along with that day's patient files. But she knows the day has taken a really bad turn when she discovers the firm's eight o'clock patient dead with Dr. Dick Daley's letter opener opening the patient instead of the mail. With the fledgling firm in danger of an early demise, Becca appoints herself the unofficial investigator since the police seem to be looking in all the wrong places and doing a half-assed job of solving the crime. She begins a journey to find the killer, keep the practice afloat and with it, her job. In the course of her interfere--er, investigation--she finds a virtual cast of characters who could have done it, including the fancy side piece of the murder victim, his wife, his business partner, and even his psychiatrist. The case takes Becca from the sordid depths of the Russian mob, to the upscale West End of Richmond, Virginia (known locally as River City), and even to her own backyard. In the course of the story she finds herself in hot water, hot danger, and with dreams of hot men. EXCERPT: "Are you awake?" I whispered. I'm not quite sure why I was whispering. Any minute now the doctor would come out and wake him anyway. I worked up the nerve to approach from behind. Taking a deep breath, I poked him. His head lolled against the left wing of the chair. "Oh no. Oh no . OH. NO!" I wasn't whispering anymore. I was more or less screaming at that point and definitely freaking out. On some level I knew I should check for a pulse but I was fairly certain that wasn't necessary. Plus, there was the small matter of the letter opener sticking out of his chest. No matter how you looked at it, that pretty much meant dead. And--gross!--I'd touched him. " OHMYGOD !" Product Description HIGHLIGHTS: A dead body. An innocent accused. A mysterious Russian and a hunky ex-cop turned accountant - both with deep secrets and hidden agendas. A lovable screw-up who wants to save her job, solve the murder and increase her love life in the process. But will she succeed before the murderer strikes again? First in a humorous mystery series. SUMMARY: Becca Reynolds is having a bad day. Her grandfather's lecture (#405: Eat a Healthy Diet or Die Not Trying) makes her late for her job at Daley and Palmer, the psychiatrists' office where she works as the office manager--her title, not theirs. Then her sausage and egg breakfast biscuit creates an oil slick that takes out half her desk, along with that day's patient files. But she knows the day has taken a really bad turn when she discovers the firm's eight o'clock patient dead with Dr. Dick Daley's letter opener opening the patient instead of the mail. With the fledgling firm in danger of an early demise, Becca appoints herself the unofficial investigator since the police seem to be looking in all the wrong places and doing a half-assed job of solving the crime. She begins a journey to find the killer, keep the practice afloat and with it, her job. In the course of her interfere--er, investigation--she finds a virtual cast of characters who could have done it, including the fancy side piece of the murder victim, his wife, his business partner, and even his psychiatrist. The case takes Becca from the sordid depths of the Russian mob, to the upscale West End of Richmond, Virginia (known locally as River City), and even to her own backyard. In the course of the story she finds herself in hot water, hot danger, and with dreams of hot men. EXCERPT: "Are you awake?" I whispered. I'm not quite sure why I was whispering. Any minute now the doctor would come out and wake him anyway. I worked up the nerve to approach from behind. Taking a deep breath, I poked him. His head lolled against the left wing of the chair. "Oh no. Oh no . OH. NO!" I wasn't whispering anymore. I was more or less screaming at that point and definitely freaking out. On some level I knew I should check for a pulse but I was fairly certain that wasn't necessary. Plus, there was the small matter of the letter opener sticking out of his chest. No matter how you looked at it, that pretty much meant dead. And--gross!--I'd touched him. " OHMYGOD !" ...
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