#BlogTour #DeadAndGone #FuneralsAndObituariesSeries #JennfierRebecca
Today we have the blog tour for Dead and Gone by Jennifer Rebecca! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today:
Title: Dead and Gone
Author: Jennifer Rebecca
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover by Alyssa Garcia at Uplifting Designs.
About Dead and Gone:
You ever have an out of body experience? Like one of those moments where you’re standing on a street corner watching yourself do something monumentally stupid? Something you know you shouldn’t do but you just can’t help yourself?
Three weeks ago, Trent and I were deep into the Honeymoon stage of love, I swore I wouldn’t be the first one to rock the boat—Lord knows with our two Irish tempers it would happen soon enough—so when he made me promise to keep my nose and our grandmothers out of his investigation, I did.
It didn’t hurt that his head was buried between my legs at the time either. But then Daisy called me begging for help and what kind of bestie would I be if I shut the door in her face? That’s right, a sh*tty one. So I packed up our grandmothers and their gogo boots, g-strings and pasties to get to the bottom of things. Only problem is if Trent catches us I’ll be dead meat, folks.
My name is Shelby Whitmore, Funeral and Obituaries columnist for the San Diego Metro News and most likely to be single again if I survive this sh*t. But hey, at least I’m still a hit with the blue hairs . . .
“We’re running out of time, Shell,” Granny says as gently as she can.
“But—” I start.
“There is no time.”
“Then what do we do?” I ask, not knowing at all that that one little sentence spoken in a breakfast joint in Rancho Bernardo would change the course of my life irrevocably.
“We have to find out who is doing this, honey,” Granny says.
“We’re going undercover.”
“I don’t understand,” I tell them.
“We’re going to George Washington’s,” Marla says brightly.
“To the strip club?” I ask, confused.
“Everyone knows there’s always a trick working the back of the club,” Daisy says like we’re talking about what kind of jam we want on our toast. Incidentally, I am no longer vacillating between strawberry and orange marmalade.
“A hooker,” she says seriously, and I feel my eyes go wide. “A working girl.”
“There’s a hooker working George’s place?” I whisper-shout.
“Of course not,” Granny says, shooting me a Don’t be stupid look. “But we need to trap a hooker killer.”
“And Christina and Stacy were both working the back room at Girls! Girls! Girls!” Daisy adds when I looked confused. “It’s the strip club off the 5, just past O’side.”
“And what can I get you ladies this morning?” the waitress asks as she steps up to our table, interrupting my world exploding because there is no way I could have heard them correctly. And if I did, Trent is going to kill me. Guess I don’t have to have that birth control talk after all.
We go around the table giving our orders before she leaves to put them in. I sit there sipping my coffee for a minute before I realize that I have to find out once and for all if my friends are really about to pimp me out.
“And I have to be this hooker?” I ask hesitantly while throwing up prayers to Jesus, Joseph, Mary, and the damn camel that I misheard them. They don’t want me to be a hooker, a job that is against the law in most of the fifty US states.
“Yes,” Daisy affirms.
“But . . . but . . . why me?” I ask.
“Well, most of the johns know me, seeing as how I used to be in the business,” she explains. “And no offense to the grannies, but no one is going to pay to do them.”
“None taken,” Granny agrees.
“Of course, dear,” Marla says like Daisy just asked for an extra chocolate chip cookie after dinner.
“So, as you can see,” Daisy begins. “You’re up.”
“I’m up?” I ask.
“You’re up,” Daisy confirms with a nod. “We’re going to make you into the best trick there ever was.”
“But I can’t be a trick,” I shout, losing my tenuous grip on my control.
“Why not?” Daisy asks.
“Because, for one, it’s illegal!”
“So what?” She shrugs.
“So what?” I repeat. “My boyfriend is a homicide detective!”
“Trent’s cool,” Daisy says.
“He’s not that cool!”
“Maybe he doesn’t have to know,” Marla says quietly, and I know I’m so incredibly screwed.
“Yeah, I—” I start to reject the notion, but I’m interrupted by the server bringing a huge tray of food to the table.
“Here we go, ladies.”
After that I dove into my eggs Benedict like it was my job and completely forgot to tell Daisy, Granny, and Marla that I was not going to be their prime hooker and I most definitely wasn’t going to keep it from Trent either.
But like I said, I was already screwed.
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About the Author:
Jennifer is a thirty something lover of words, all words: the written, the spoken, the sung (even poorly), the sweet, the funny, and even the four letter variety. She is a native of San Diego, California where she grew up reading the Brownings and Rebecca with her mother and Clifford and the Dog who Glowed in the Dark with her dad, much to her mother’s dismay.
Jennifer is a graduate of California State University San Marcos where she studied Criminology and Justice Studies. She is also an Alpha Xi Delta.
10 years ago, she was swept off her feet by her very own sailor. Today, they are happily married and the parents of a 8 year old and 6 year old twins. She can often be found in East Texas on the soccer fields, drawing with her children, or reading. Jennifer is convinced that if she puts her fitbit on one of the dogs, she might finally make her step goals. She loves a great romance, an alpha hero, and lots and lots of laughter.