Travel agent Gabby LeClair, a divorced big-city transplant trying to find some aloha spirit in her soul, prides herself on working hard to give the Aloha Lagoon Resort guests a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But that turns out to be more than anyone bargained for when the body of a client is found dead during one of Gabby's island tours. The victim is a lawyer who’s escorted a small group to Aloha Lagoon for distribution of a deceased billionaire’s estate...but it looks like someone believes the only good lawyer is a dead lawyer. Between the bad press causing her phone to go silent and the police working on "island time," it's up to Gabby it find the killer before her business goes belly up. With the help of her good friends, and a hot helicopter pilot with a flirtatious streak, Gabby turns sleuth to figure out just which member of the lawyer's party had it in for him. But before long it’s clear there’s way more at stake than her livelihood, and if Gabby isn’t careful, she and her friends may find themselves on an island getaway to death.
Murder on the Aloha Express will be
$0.99 during the tour.
As much as I hated to say it, not everyone could carry off that aloha look—the one with the oversized shirt, baggy cargo shorts, flip-flops. Not to forget the zinc oxide smear on the nose.
The man before me was definitely one of those guys. He looked like the quintessential tourist, slumping into my office and plopping down in the chair in front of my desk. The shirt was red, yellow, and orange in a spewing-volcano print. The baggy shorts had red and white flowers all over them and big old pockets low on the sides of the legs. The flip-flops looked as if today was the first time he'd slipped them onto his lily-white feet—a complete ensemble. There was also something a little smarmy about him that put me off.
"Aloha," I said. The word never seemed to roll off my tongue the way it did for others who worked at the Aloha Lagoon Resort. I'd even been practicing, trying for that soft melodic island lilt. My Midwestern accent always seemed to bleed through, but I gave it my best shot anyway—the mainlanders who came my way for an exotic vacation experience loved it. "How can I help you?"
The client's eyes swept the room, beginning at the tourism posters on the wall and stopping at the nameplate on my desk. "So, Gab-ree-el…Le…Klair, Certified Travel Specialist…" He pronounced my name phonetically like a third grader would as he raised his gaze to my face.
Sally J. Smith and Jean Steffens, are partners in crime—crime writing, that is. They live in the Valley of the Sun in Arizona, awesome for eight months out of the year, an inferno the other four. They write bloody murder, flirty romance, and wicked humor all in one package.
FIND ME ON THE WEB AT:
Sally J. Smith & Jean Steffens will be awarding $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
ADDITIONALLY: (U.S. ONLY) We will also have a giveaway through our Website— http://www.smithandsteffens.com —consisting of a beach towel, coffee mug, and signed copy of Murder on the Aloha Express.