J. D. Robb, Mary Blayney
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J. D. Robb's Missing in Death investigates a female tourist's disappearance during a ferry ride. Detective Eve Dallas wonders...if she didn't jump, and she's not on board, then where in the world is she?
In Patricia Gaffney's The Dog Days of Laurie Summer, a woman awakens to a familiar yet unsettling world.
In Mary Blayney's Lost in Paradise, a man locked in an island fortress finds hope for freedom in an enigmatic nurse.
And Ruth Ryan Langan's Legacy belongs to a young woman who unearths a family secret buried on the grounds of a magnificent but imposing Irish castle.
thought in my head. Whenever Benny laughed, I wagged my tail—or rather, my tail wagged, a completely involuntary response, like crying when somebody else cries. We lay on our backs, panting and grinning up at Sam, whose cautious look slowly faded and turned into a smile. He’s making sure I’m not dangerous, I realized. Making sure I won’t hurt Benny. Good; I’d do the same. I turned my head and licked Benny’s face very gently, for Sam’s benefit. Play with us! I thought, but he was already heading
in his arms. I sidled close, leaning my flank against both of them. “He said Mommy . . .” “What?” “Is a . . .” “What?’ “Vegetable.” I made a choking sound, the closest to a sob I could come. They didn’t hear me; Benny was crying and Sam was crooning consolation. They were a tangle of arms and pressed-together faces, and all I could do was shove my snout into the places I could find skin. “All right, listen. That kid was wrong.” He lifted Benny’s chin so he could look at him. “And you were
found one large room with a very primitive bathroom and no way to cook anything. The room was loaded with boxes that she recognized as supplies she had sent from New Orleans. In a little space, bumped out from the side of the cottage, was a sleeping alcove surrounded on three sides by walls. Small openings circled the room where the wall met the ceiling, a clever way to welcome a breeze and light and still maintain privacy. The bed was freshly made. There was a curtain that could be pulled
Isabelle walked into a party well begun. The men and women were dressed in clothes that were very twenty-fi rst century, but everything else about the gathering had an old-world feel. Even the music was played by a three-piece combo. The food was not the typical island fare but looked as though it would be better suited to a European dining room. There were tables for cards and other sorts of gambling, but right now most everyone was gathered around a woman dressed as a gypsy, who was telling
“What does that mean?” the woman demanded. Isabelle moved away from the group before the gypsy answered. She had no idea what the fortune-teller meant but was equally certain that the woman would not like the details. Sebastian was nowhere to be found, so she accepted a glass of champagne from one of the servants and began to circle the room. The next hour passed in a haze of names and amusing conversation. Several men and one woman tried their best to corner her for more than talk. Isabelle