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Ever have a really bad day when you regret all your decisions? Today is one of those days. You see, I'm tied to the control panel in a soundproof recording studio in the basement of the local library. In a few minutes, I'll be forced to confess to a murder on air and drink a concoction that will lead to my death. What brought me here, you ask?Well, it started when I got an invite to my high school class's 25th reunion. I wasn't going to go...I had no interest in feeling like a loser again in front of all of those people who made me feel like a loser twenty-five years ago. But then a former classmate sent a message saying she loved my writing and couldn't wait to see me at the reunion. I'll admit, the flattery went to my head and I ended up going to the reunion where a classmate met her untimely end at the hand of a nail-file-wielding murderer. And of course, I was the one to find her and the one the entire town suspected of her murder. Which, is ultimately the reason I'm in this current predicament.
Dear Diary, Guess what? I'm pregnant. I should be happy about that, right? After all, Roger and I wanted to start a family...maybe not just right now.Not only am I pregnant, I just lost my job. And my car keeps stalling going into left-hand turns. And not only am I pregnant, jobless, and without a reliable vehicle, I've got to move into a dilapidated old house and smuggle a puppy past my pet-unfriendly hubby.My life was busy enough before I made a pledge to my old boss that I'd figure out who was stealing valuable packages from the small businesses in town. It's a lot of pressure, and I'm not even a mom yet. I can't wait to just cuddle my newborn baby and not have to worry about anything else. But first, I've got to get out of this dog catcher's van before I give birth amongst the dog crates. Hopefully, the guy with the gun in the front seat knows the way to the hospital.Love, Amy
For those of you keeping score at home, it's been almost a year since I was kidnapped and held hostage. I thought my life was going to change, but it's more of the same. I'm cleaning up messes faster than a celebrity fixer, my kids are driving me to seriously contemplate the Witness Protection Program, and Roger is STILL sitting in his armchair, uselessly engrossed in a reality TV show marathon.But since I'm a glutton for punishment, I've added even more stress to my life by going back to college to finally get the degree that eluded me twenty years ago. In criminal justice, of all things.After countless years of Sunday school, I should know that Gluttony is one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Come to think of it, Wrath, Greed, Lust, Sloth, Envy, Pride, and Gluttony are why I'm in my current predicament-stuck in the trunk of my sister's lover's car... bound and gagged. If it were not for those seven deadly sins, I'd be busy burning a casserole at home instead of wondering if I'm about to die sandwiched between a tire jack and a set of jumper cables.
Amy Maxwell is used to being overshadowed by her successful and beautiful sisters. What she isn't used to is having to speak in public about her failures with her domineering siblings. Which is exactly what she has to do when her sister Beth arranges for all of them to be on a panel at a "Women in Business" workshop being held by her hero, the famed self-help guru, Curtis Victor.Amy is less than pleased to be there-especially after a spectacular crash and burn on stage-but Beth has sold this as a relaxing three-day weekend, a chance for Amy to have some downtime without her children and husband needing her at every turn to save them from themselves. Amy is determined to enjoy herself with spa treatments, steak dinners, and cocktails at the bar, but her enjoyment comes to a screeching halt when an heiress is found dead in her hotel room and Amy finds herself thrust in the middle of the murder investigation.
Stress? With four kids, a talent for burning dinner in under five minutes, and crusted applesauce on the yoga pants that haven't seen the inside of a gym in a decade, I've cornered the market on stress. Sometimes, I find myself fantasizing. Totally benign, stress-relieving fantasies... like running away with the hot pool boy next door or finding out that the child who's annoying me most that day was switched at birth. At least, it was harmless until Jason Collins moved in across the street, and my wild imagination goes feral.I can't deny Jason's easy on the eyes, but something about him and his family's just not adding up. My kids' safety is my priority, so I spy on the neighbors like it's my job.And that's when my teenage daughter and I stumble upon the body. The dead body.Before I know what hit me, I'm thrown together with Jason in the most unpredictable way. Tied to a chair in an abandoned cabin in the woods. And no, despite my fantasies, there's nothing kinky about this... just pure horror that might be the death of me.
I just knew something would go wrong if the whole family went on vacation-I had a sixth sense about it. A week of fun in the sun at an all-inclusive resort on the beach should be a relaxing time for the whole family, right? Not for the Maxwell family.Because prepping for a family vacation as a mom is akin to Chinese Water Torture, I find myself dreaming of a solo vacation before the wheels of the plane even touch down on the runway. The kids are begging to upgrade our WiFi package, I've discovered that I can't seem to get away from Jason Collins, and Roger's acting suspicious. To top it all off, I've been noticing there are unsavory characters at the resort that immediately set off my Mom radar.Unable to stop myself from snooping, I stumble upon another mystery, one that involves a half-naked man with a palm leaf covering his nether regions, and Roger and I in serious danger of being filleted with his spear.
We can probably all agree that I've got a knack for getting into situations that require a bit of intervention. Specifically, intervention from one DEA agent, Jason Collins, who has saved me more times than I would like to admit. After the last incident in the Caribbean that almost got Roger and me killed, Roger has begged me to mind my business and stay away from trouble. He's going to be furious when he finds out about the mess I'm in now.In my defense, I didn't go looking for trouble this time. This time, trouble found me-in the form of a Prada-wearing soccer mom, who is responsible for the death of another similarly clad soccer mom.Who would have thought that joining a playgroup with my "fifth child" might result in me being held at gunpoint next to boxes of half-off stuffing? Can Jason get me out of this or am I doomed to become a casualty in aisle thirteen?
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