|Who says a Gen X hipster can’t solve old-school mysteries?
Harley Jean’s a failed college student. Her brief career in corporate banking went up in flames. She can’t find Mr. Right and might settle for Mr. Wrong. She’s twenty-six-years old—staring down the barrel at thirty—and now she works as a tour guide in the whacko land of Elvis. She’s named after a motorcycle. Her dad’s an Elvis impersonator. Her Mom talks to spirit guides.
Someone kidnaps her family’s dog—named King, in Elvis’s honor. There’s a ransom note.
And then, things really get weird.
Memphis tour guide Harley Jean Davidson is about to enjoy a rare day off when her parents call with news that King, their border collie, has been dognapped. Harley Jean’s mom insists the culprit is Bruno Jett, their next door neighbor. Harley Jean would rather run over her own foot with a motorcycle than talk to him. He’s drop-dead gorgeous—with a dangerous attitude she’d like to avoid.
But King has to be rescued, so she sets off to find him. Harley Jean gets more than she bargains for when she finds a body, as well. Bruno Jett is definitely involved, but how?
The Memphis P.D. wants to pin the murder on Harley Jean’s dad. Now it’s up to her to clear his name . . . and avoid becoming the killer’s next victim.
Leaving corporate banking for a job free of stress had been a matter of survival. So here she was, in her late twenties and burned out, but finally in a job she didn’t have to take home with her at night. It was a good trade-off—most of the time. At least, when she didn’t have to deal with a very sexy possible murderer . . .
The basement door opened. Looking up, she saw Jett through the cracks in the wooden stairs.
|Local Tour Guide Breaks Jewelry Theft Ring and Helps Crack Murder Case, read the large headline. The leading sentence in the article said so much less than had really happened: Harley Jean Davidson, 27, tour guide for Memphis Tour Tyme, had a narrow escape from jewelry thieves Friday night that ended with an arrest on charges of grand larceny, attempted murder, and two counts of murder. Ms. Davidson was instrumental in capturing the suspect . . .
In Hound Dog Blues, Harley Jean proved that a Gen X slacker can kick butt along with the rest of the crime-solving gurus. Now she’s up to her handlebars in mystery again. Her Aunt Darcy, an interior designer, needs Harley’s help catching a smuggler of prized artifacts. When Harley finds Aunt Darcy’s suspicious business partner hanging off her shop’s elk antlers, Harley can’t help but wonder if Aunt Darcy murdered him. Soon Harley’s already quirky life spins way off the Normal Meter again, with another corpse in the mix, an assault by cranky farm animals, a kidnapping attempt, and surprise assistance from a temperamental Siamese cat. Add hunky detective Mike Morgan to the trouble, plus the usual collection of Elvis impersonators, psychics and unpredictable relatives.
The city of the blues, the King and the mighty Mississippi is about to get steamy. The jailhouse will rock, someone may get caught in a trap, and Harley’s in the middle of it all-taking care of business.
Maybe she was in mid-life crisis. Only four more months and she’d only be three years away from thirty, and here she was with just one serious relationship behind her—two if she wanted to count George Goldfish, now freed in the Audubon Park koi pond. Of course, her on and off relationship with Bobby Baroni through the years had been more friendship than anything serious, despite the fact they’d tried out the physical stuff a long time ago. She loved Bobby, but only as a friend. Besides, he was dating an exotic dancer at the moment, a really hot blonde who went by the name of Angel.
Harley made one last trip to the nightclub’s bathroom. One glance in the bathroom mirror was enough to convince her that four beers were past her limit. She looked like something out of Fright Night.
|Maybe Harley Jean Davidson should have finished college, but at the time it hadn’t seemed nearly as important as it did now. She should have stayed in corporate banking. She should have settled down with Mr. Right instead of dallying with Mr. Right Now—irresistible Memphis detective Mike Morgan. It was time to put her shallow youth behind her. She was closing in on thirty, entering the halls of maturity, and proving that she has a talent for catching bad guys. Things could be worse. Much worse. Her job as a Memphis tour guide is about to get even stranger than usual.
“Hey,” she called, “last stop for all Elvi. This is it, sir. Sir?”
He didn’t respond, just remained in his seat on the bus, staring out the window. Maybe he’d gotten cold feet about the Elvis contest. With a sigh, Harley walked to the back.
“Hey, buddy,” she said when she reached his seat, “we’re here. Time to go on stage and sing your heart out. Knock ’em dead.”
When he still didn’t respond, Harley put a hand on his shoulder to give him a slight shake. He slumped forward, his head hit the back of the seat in front of him, and she jumped into the aisle. The hilt of a knife protruded from his back. She froze. This couldn’t be happening. Not to him, not to her, again.
She leaned closer, and the rusty smell of blood made her stomach lurch. Backing slowly away, she fumbled at her waist for the cell phone that she now kept tethered to her with a chain, and hit speed dial. The police dispatcher answered quickly.
“Nine-one-one?” Harley said in a voice that sounded a lot calmer than she felt. “We have another dead Elvis.”
Will her talent (jinx?) for stumbling into crime scenes eighty-six her relationship with Mike?
Was he working up to a break up or just still upset about the dead Elvis in her van?
|Find out who’s trying to kill one of the best-known drag queens in Memphis? No problem. Harley’s on the case. Until someone decides she’s getting a little too close to the truth . . .
Halloween’s just around the corner, and business is brisk at Memphis Tour Tyme. Harley doesn’t need an extra job, but when her pal Tootsie asks her to help Jordan Cleveland, his fellow drag queen, she can’t resist poking around in the mystery. How dangerous could it be for her? After all, Jordan’s the target of the threats, not her. He’s had his brake line cut, a concrete flower pot dropped over his head, a pickup truck nearly ran him down, and someone tried to push him off a sidewalk into heavy traffic. He and Harley think his ex-wife is the most likely culprit, but after Jordan is sideswiped by a car and ends up in the hospital, trouble starts to turn Harley’s way. The next thing she knows, she’s dangling off the side of the city’s famous Peabody Hotel while an anonymous thug tells her to mind her own business . . . or else.
Things can only get worse, and she ought to heed the demands of her hunky police boyfriend, Mike Morgan, who’s really worried. Even the guests at a local Halloween party start to look like suspects. Maybe the guy dressed up as Jay-Z is out to get her. Or one of the Kardashian sisters.
But how dangerous can it be to leave the party just long enough to retrieve her brother’s coveted Fender guitar from Tootsie’s empty house? Harley will return safe and sound, right?