Valentine Beaumont is a
beautician with a problem. Not only has she got a
meddling mother, a wacky staff, and a dying business, but now she’s
got a dead client who was strangled while awaiting her facial.
With business the way it
is, combing through this mystery may be the only
way to save her salon. Until a second murder, an explosion, a
kidnapping, death threats, and the hard-nosed Detective Romero
complicate things. But Valentine will do anything to untangle the
crime. That’s if she can keep her tools of the trade in her bag,
keep herself alive, and avoid falling for the tough detective.
Valentine Beaumont is back in her second hair-raising mystery, this time,
trying to find out who had it in for an elderly nun. Only trouble is
there are others standing in her way: hot but tough Detective Romero,
sexy new stylist Jock de Marco, and some zany locals who all have a
theory on the nun’s death.
Making things worse: the dead nun’s secret that haunts Valentine,
another murder, car chases, death threats, mysterious clues,
an interfering mother, and a crazy staff.
Between brushing off Jock’s advances and splitting hairs with handsome
Detective Romero, Valentine struggles to comb through the crime,
utilizing her tools of the trade in some outrageous situations.
Question is, will she succeed?
“Sharp,sexy, and side-splitting. Everything I love in a good mystery!” –
Darynda Jones, New York Times/USA Today Bestselling Author of the Charley
“A fun-filled ride. A zany cast of characters. And
a quest to find a
killer. Another great book in a wonderful series!” –
Wendy Byrne, USA Today Bestselling Author of the Izzy Lewis
In her third fast-paced
mystery, beautician Valentine Beaumont and her
madcap crew sail the high seas on a Caribbean “Beauty Cruise.”
When a bizarre murder takes place onboard, Valentine finds herself
swept into the middle of the investigation.
If things aren’t bad
enough, her mother is playing matchmaker, a loved
one is kidnapped, drug smuggling is afoot, a hair contest proves
disastrous, and a strange alliance between tough Detective Romero and
sexy stylist Jock de Marco rubs Valentine the wrong way.
Will this impulsive beauty
sleuth comb through the catastrophes and
untangle the mystery, or will this voyage turn into another fatal
Titanic? With Jock and Romero onboard, it’s destined to be a hot
Arlene McFarlane is the author of the Murder, Curlers series.
Previously an aesthetician, hairstylist, and owner of a full-service
salon, Arlene now writes full time. When she’s not making up
stories, or being a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, cat-mom,
or makeover artist, you’ll find her making music on the piano.
Arlene is a member of
Romance Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Toronto
Romance Writers, SOWG, and the Golden Network. She’s won and placed
in over 30 contests, including twice in the Golden Heart and twice in
the Daphne du Maurier.
“You wound a perm rod around a man’s what?” Detective Romero stood in the middle of my
Mediterranean-styled salon, hand on his gun hip, legs spread wide. His deep voice was laced with
cynicism, and his blue eyes pierced me with a look that said now he’d heard everything.
I know it sounded outrageous, but good lord. It’d been several years since “Local Beautician
Valentine Beaumont Uses Perm Rod to Curl Murderer’s Gonads” made front page headlines in the
Rueland News. Was I ever going to live that down? It was an awful picture of me they’d run too,
considering I was soaked in mud and covered in cuts and bruises.
Besides, there was another crisis at hand. I mean, a dead body had just been removed from the
facial bed in Ti Amo—one of my treatment rooms, not thirty feet down the hall. Didn’t this detective, in
his faded jeans and brown plaid shirt, think that was a little more important?
I pulled at my tight-knit top, trying not to let him get under my skin. “For the record, that perm rod
saved me from being knifed to death. Anyway, it sounds worse than it was.”
“Worse than it was! Lady, that’s about as worse as it can get for a man.” He blew out a sigh. “I’d
love to hear the full story on that one day.”
I smiled sweetly. “If you’re nice to me, maybe one day I’ll tell it.”
He glared at me, probably not certain if I was being sarcastic or sincere. Frankly, I wasn’t sure
about that myself.
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