Sweet Masterpiece by Connie Shelton
By Connie Shelton
New from Amazon.com bestselling writer Connie Shelton, one other secret sequence! Samantha candy breaks into homes for a residing, and the issues she discovers usually result in hassle. whilst she unearths an unmarked grave on a estate in a distant spot close to Taos, New Mexico, Sam calls the professionals. A useless physique is greater than she desires to take care of. A small mural painted within a closet within the deserted condominium presents clues and Sam is stuck up in an research besides the handsome Deputy Beau Cardwell. A fortune in art, a bogus will, and a wood field that turns out to offer Sam powers she by no means dreamed she possessed--it all provides as much as a dynamic paranormal romantic secret. compliment for Connie Shelton's prior mysteries: "Shelton, a tremendous luck for Intrigue, can simply extend her fan base with this reliable effort." --Publishers Weekly "Shelton maintains to mix suspenseful storytelling with delicate portrayals of complicated kinfolk relationships." --Booklist "Shelton back has performed an outstanding activity in bringing New Mexico to life." --Albuquerque magazine "Connie Shelton has one other winner!" --The ebook file
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Extra resources for Sweet Masterpiece
Sample text
The lean guy who unfolded himself out of the SUV walked over to her. “Ms. Sweet? ” There was definite Southern in the accent and the way he said her name made it sound like an invitation to dance a waltz. The last guy she knew named Beau was way back in her teen years in Texas, but that was a whole other story involving a girl with lusty hormones and a football player whose kiss would send any good girl off the deep end. She firmly shut that image out of her head. The deputy was staring at her.
What? ” Sam reached for one of the water glasses on the nightstand but the clawlike hand waved her away. “I have . . something . ” Sam leaned in a little closer, and the woman cleared her throat noisily. She jammed a tissue at the scrawny fingers and stepped back. When the woman spoke again her voice was noticeably stronger. “I have something for you,” she said. ” The birdlike woman raised up on one elbow and her tiny eyes lost their blurry look for a moment. “I know . . you were meant to come here .
In her haste to make the place presentable, she’d forgotten that the whole house might be considered part of the crime scene. He strode in from the other room. “Don’t tell me you’re washing away our evidence. ” She’d turned off the faucet but the sudsy basin gave her away. “Deputy, I . . ” He stared down at her from his six and a half feet, eyes dark beneath the Stetson. ” She felt like a complete idiot. Hadn’t she watched enough episodes of CSI to know that you didn’t touch a thing at a crime scene?