Homicide, Hostages, and Hot Rod Restoration

The Wild Rose Press

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 60,485
0 Ratings (0.0)

Mary Margaret Madison (“Threemie”) stopped at a bar on her way home from visiting a friend at the hospital, and look what happened—she met Bill, the man of her dreams. There’s only one problem. Threemie also met a murderer that night. Now she and Bill are in double crosshairs, targeted by a killer and a disgruntled ex-employee who wants revenge on Bill. If Threemie and Bill can dodge the traps laid for them—and if they can each learn to trust each other—maybe they can find out if a life of classic cars and computers is the life for them.

Homicide, Hostages, and Hot Rod Restoration
0 Ratings (0.0)

Homicide, Hostages, and Hot Rod Restoration

The Wild Rose Press

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 60,485
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Excerpt

He squeezed my shoulder again. “Why don’t we get together tomorrow morning? You can come to my gym and work out. Then we’ll go to my place and spend the afternoon puttering around together.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Puttering around?”

“Somehow that didn’t come out quite the way I meant it.” He glanced down at me and smiled. “Maybe it did. One of those Freudian slips.”

“It might be fun to work out together. But I warn you, I’m not a jock or anything. Just a little weight lifting and a bit of biking.”

We got to the parking garage and he drove inside. “Which floor?”

“Two.” I straightened up, peering around the half-full garage. Bill drove up the ramp and I pointed. “There.”

An empty slot was available across from my car so he parked his truck and opened his door. He paused, staring at Stella, then came to my side of the truck and helped me out. I followed his gaze to my car.

“What happened?” I leaned over, looking down at the tires. The back two tires were completely flat. “They’re totally pancaked! Did I run over something in the road?”

Bill knelt by the back tire and touched the rubber. “They’re slashed, Threemie. This isn’t just a flat.” He looked up at me, his eyes troubled. “Somebody did this on purpose.”

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