Drop Dead Handsome
by M.K. Scott
The Painted Lady Inn is open for business and limping along in the B and B world. A high school
An octogenarian self-proclaimed sleuth, Father Christmas, a dognapping couple, and a pair who is copying everything in the Inn to set up their own competitive establishment rounds out the group. Maria, the sister-in-law, has a matchmaking agenda for Donna. Daniel, her brother, finds himself serving as a referee with one guest’s multiple wives.
High school reunions can be murder. Detective Mark Taber is on the trail of the murderer, when he isn’t interfering in a smitten Arnie’s determined bid to woo the no nonsense innkeeper.
How about an excerpt? Sure! Here you go:
Hadn’t she read something recently in a psychology journal that both men and women flirt to get better service? No doubt that was what the man was doing. Maybe she could use the same technique to move him upstairs. Never mind, she never had an inner vixen.
Smile. Her lips tugged up in one she deemed her innkeeper smile. Her brother nicknamed it ‘I’m trying not to belch’ expression. “Arnie, the silliest thing happened. You won’t believe it.” She giggled and tapped his arm.
His eyebrows went up, due to her heels, she had to drop her chin the tiniest bit to notice. His hands swept up in a prayer position before entwining his fingers together. “Oh really? Tell me more.”
Wow, this was much harder than she realized it was going to be. Appeal to his vanity. Where did that suggestion come from? It might work though. All she knew was she had to get him up two flights of stairs.
“I, ah…” She hesitated, not wanting to admit to a mistake that she did not make. “…put you in the wrong room.”
“I see.” A cunning light appeared in his eyes. “Go on.”
“You’re actually on the third floor.” This was bound not to please so she tried to sweeten the deal. “There’s a much better view from that floor and no street noises.”
She didn’t need to point out there were hardly any evening ruckus since most of the residents were snug in their homes by nine at night. What else could she add? Arnie stared without comment. The principle issue would be the stairs.
Here goes nothing. “A strong, virile man like yourself would have no problems with the stairs.”
His lips lifted and a slight sheen of interest enlarged his pupils. He dropped his folded hands, lifted one finger as if at an auction and discreetly bidding. “Would it be more private?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded. The selling point she needed. “Very. Down here,” she gestured to the room behind him, “you’d hear all the early birds and night owls roaming. You’d even hear me starting breakfast. Upstairs, you could sleep in.”
“Sounds good, but if I sleep in I might miss breakfast.” His nose wrinkled a little as if he found the idea amusing.
About the Author:
M. K. Scott is the husband and wife writing team behind The Painted Lady Inn Mysteries.
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