Blood may be thicker than water, but family isn’t necessarily who you’re related to. In this suspenseful mystery with a romantic twist, we follow Private Investigator Michelle Mott on her most exciting case to date.
Wisecracking Mott has been a loner since her parents died. When Daniel Cardinale walks into her office with her most interesting case yet, his world threatens to turn hers upside down. He needs her to find out who is sending him anonymous money and what the truth is behind his dead fiancé’s demise. If his case weren’t complicating her life enough, local crime lord Gino Salito has taken an interest in Mott.
Mott’s empty life begins to fill up with an unexpected and rag-tag group of people, and she’s afraid her dangerous life will take them away, leaving her alone once again.
In truth, it’s Mott’s life that may be the one at risk. She’ll have to hope that blood isn’t always thicker than water.
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I am about to die. I don’t mean in the Sylvia Plath-we’re-all going-to-die-sometime sort of way. In mere moments, the meathead behind the barrel of the handgun held to my temple will pull the trigger. The hammer will come down, igniting a tiny explosion that will send a lead ball tearing through my cranium. My brains, bones and blood will spray on the area beside me. I won’t even hear a click. I won’t feel a thing. Idiots. This is the least creative way to murder someone.
“But you bought their dinner. Why?” He furrowed his brow. “You don’t think I pay them well enough?”
I couldn’t help but fidget with my pants. “I figured you might fire them, or at least that’s what I told them.”
He laughed. “I know, but you didn’t answer my question.”
I bit my lip but found my resolve and continued making eye contact. “I wanted to emasculate them.”
Salito’s eyebrows shot up. “What purpose did that serve?”
I felt slightly angry. “With all due respect, Mr. Salito, a woman followed is a woman frightened, generally speaking. They made me uncomfortable so I returned the favor.”
Kim Mullican was born in Northwest Indiana, where she was raised on the family farm. She attended International Business College in Fort Wayne before continuing on at Indiana Wesleyan University.
I am about to die. I don’t mean in the Sylvia Plath-we’re-all going-to-die-sometime sort of way. In mere moments, the meathead behind the barrel of the handgun held to my temple will pull the trigger. The hammer will come down, igniting a tiny explosion that will send a lead ball tearing through my cranium. My brains, bones and blood will spray on the area beside me. I won’t even hear a click. I won’t feel a thing. Idiots. This is the least creative way to murder someone.
“But you bought their dinner. Why?” He furrowed his brow. “You don’t think I pay them well enough?”
I couldn’t help but fidget with my pants. “I figured you might fire them, or at least that’s what I told them.”
He laughed. “I know, but you didn’t answer my question.”
I bit my lip but found my resolve and continued making eye contact. “I wanted to emasculate them.”
Salito’s eyebrows shot up. “What purpose did that serve?”
I felt slightly angry. “With all due respect, Mr. Salito, a woman followed is a woman frightened, generally speaking. They made me uncomfortable so I returned the favor.”
Kim Mullican was born in Northwest Indiana, where she was raised on the family farm. She attended International Business College in Fort Wayne before continuing on at Indiana Wesleyan University.
When she’s not writing, she’s probably cooking a meal for her rather large family. An assortment of children and pets keep her on her toes.
On the rare chance she and Mr. Mullican can pull away, you can find them on a quiet body of water, fishing poles in hand.
She’s a cross-genre writer delving into crime fiction, PNR, mystery and suspense.
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