Deadly Gamble (A Mojo Sheepshanks Novel, 1)

From Booklist Mojo Sheepshanks wakes up to find her dead ex-husband next to her in bed in her apartment above Bert's Bad-Ass Biker Saloon, the latest strange moment in a curious life. Mojo grew up on the run with Lillian, her babysitter, after her parents were gunned down in their trailer. She has two so-called sisters, Greer, a former teen hooker who is now a prominent doctor's trophy wife who hires her to check up on her husband, and Jolie, an African American forensic scientist. And Mojo's undercover-cop boyfriend looks like a bad-boy biker. Miller is fabulous at capturing relationships on the page, not only the fire between Mojo and Tucker but also the caring between the three women who became sisters through Lillian's love. Readers will by entranced by Mojo, a quirky detective who sees dead people and is ready to hang out her shingle as a PI. The star of Miller's series debut possesses the appeal of both Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum and Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse rolled up in one. Diana Tixier Herald Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved Product Description She's got an uncanny knack for winning at slots, but her home-sweet-home is Bad-Ass Bert's Biker Saloon. She'd love to go deep undercover with an irresistibly hot cop, but he's got baggage as big as his biceps. She's survived a mysterious tragedy, but Mojo Sheepshanks hasn't quite figured out who she really is or how to get on with her life. And now the wisecracking Mojo is seeing ghosts—the real, ectoplasmic kind—and turning up baffling clues to her real identity. Suddenly a wealthy man is claiming to be her long-lost uncle…and she's being shadowed by an ex-con brother with a talent for killer mind games. As Mojo races to finally uncover the facts, she'll need all her savvy and strange new talent to keep someone from burying her—and the truth—for keeps. Review "You'll adore the McKettricks." -- Romantic Times BOOKclub on McKettrick's Choice About the Author Linda Lael Miller is a #1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than one hundred novels. Long passionate about the Civil War buff, she has studied the era avidly and has made many visits to Gettysburg, where she has witnessed reenactments of the legendary clash between North and South. Linda explores that turbulent time in The Yankee Widow. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Cave Creek, Arizona At first, the chill was a drowsy nibble at the distant and ragged edges of my awareness, raising goose-bumps on the parts of my flesh bared to that spring night. The sensation was vaguely disturbing, but not troublesome enough to stir me from the fitful shallows of sleep. I remember rolling onto my side, pulling the comforter up to my right earlobe and murmuring some insensible protest. That was when I heard Nick's voice. Or thought I heard it. Impossible, I told myself, nestling groggily into my polyester burrow. He's dead. Just then, a hand came to rest on my hip, and the chill sprouted teeth and bit right through cotton nightshirt, skin and tissue to seize the marrow of my bones. I choked out a hoarse cry, too raw and guttural to qualify as a scream, and shimmied off the mattress to land hard on both feet. In the space of an instant, my senses shifted from dial-up to broadband, and I pressed one hand to my chest, in case my heart tried to flail its way out of my chest. My brains pulsed, Cuisinart-style, then scrambled. I couldn't seem to drag a breath past my esophagus, though my lungs clawed for air like a pair of miners trapped beneath tons of rubble. I felt that way once on a stair-climber at the gym after sucking in a pack and a half of nicotine in a bar the night before, and subsequently swore off exercise forever. Hell, somebody has to serve as the bad example. But I digress. Get used to it. My eyes must have bugged out, cartoonlike. Nick—Nick—lay on top of the covers, dressed in his snappy gray burial suit, with his hands cupping
ASIN: 037377141X
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