This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Terri will be awarding one commenter at every stop a signed bookmark and a cover postcard (USA/Canada Only), and one randomly drawn commenter on the tour will receive a $25 gift card to Amazon or B&N, winner's choice. Click the tour banner above to see the rest of the stops on her tour.
Rose Strickland is having a blue Christmas. Her friend is arrested for attempted murder, her sexy bad guy crush is marked by a hit man, and her boss is locked in an epic smackdown with a rival diner. Determined to save those she loves, Rose embarks on an investigation more tangled than a box of last year's tree lights. With her eclectic gang at the ready, Rose stumbles across dead bodies, ex-cons, chop shops, jealous girlfriends, jilted lovers, and a gaggle of strippers in a battle for freedom she might not survive.
Read an exclusive excerpt from Last Diner Standing:
“Any other names you want to give me? What about Roshanda?”
“Asshat’s sister? I know she lives down by Oakwood Elementary, but I don’t have her address or anything.”
“Do you know who else Asshat was dating? Or Flat Ass’s name?”
He sighed. “I don’t keep track of his social life.” His eyes took in Roxy, from her platform Mary Janes to her blue hair. “I’m thinking about my own extra-curriculars.”
Tariq fenced stolen crap and Roxy used to be a juvenile delinquent. She still missed the thrill of taking things that weren’t strictly hers, so I wondered at the wisdom of this Tariq/Roxy matchup. It had fire and gasoline written all over it.
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket and glanced at the gloomy sky once more. I was going to have to invest in some gloves.
“Thanks, Tariq.” I tugged on Roxy’s sleeve. “Call me if you think of anything that can help Janelle.” I pulled her toward the car and we waved at Tariq as I peeled out.
“Want to hit the strip club?” I asked. “I have just enough time before I have to get ready for my parents’ party.”
“Yep,” Roxy said. “So what are these Strickland shindigs like, anyway? Fancy food you can’t pronounce and champagne?”
“Pony kegs and beer bongs all the way.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I can picture your mom with a funnel tube in her mouth. Seriously, are they any fun at all?”
“Not even a little.”
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