HEIRLOOMS TO DIE FOR will be out Nov. 9th. It’s on pre-sale now, so I thought I’d share a snippet to tease you. If you like it (and I hope you do), don’t order BAD HABITS now. I’m making it free Nov. 8-12, so I’m trying to save you some money:)
Keon had a knack for reading my thoughts. He smiled now. “You’re not going to hug Cook so tight, you crush her bones, are you?”
I snorted. “Like I could. You haven’t met her. She’s short and plump and full of energy. Don’t let her gray hair fool you. Or the housedresses she always wears. They make her look old, but it’s hard to keep up with her.” And I loved her. She was the constant in my life growing up.
I had a string of nannies who came and went. I wasn’t attached to any of them. Only two servants lived in our home—Cook and the maid. The maid was devoted to my mother and avoided me if possible. When Mom and Dad died, they’d left each of them five million dollars in their will. As far as I was concerned, they’d earned it. Everything else went to me, their only child.
When I left Chicago to follow Gabbie and her brothers to Summit City, I never expected to see Cook again. She’d moved into an apartment close to her sister and her sister’s boys, and she planned to travel a lot.
I snickered. Keon raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
“Cook was going to see the world when she retired, but only traveled to Scotland to see where her great-grandparents lived. She hated the airplane flight, didn’t like the people in her tour group, and came home, swearing she never wanted to get on an airplane again.”
“So she’s decided to move here instead?”
I went for a second cup of coffee and brought the pot over to pour him another cup, too. “Her sister, Margie, is in her mid-seventies, and she can’t get around as well as she used to. Cook bought one of those condos we looked at for your parents—the ones close to the Outback restaurant and the big grocery store. It has enough room for Margie to move in with her. They’re looking forward to living together.”
Keon grimaced. “She’s going to be a caregiver again.”
“It’s what she likes.”