By Stephanie Bond
With fugitive mom and dad, a brother dodging personal loan sharks, a hunky cop who's made her outlaw kinfolk his enterprise, a buff physique mover trying to make a stream on her and her ex-fiancé again within the photograph, Carlotta Wren inspiration her existence couldn't get any longer advanced. And then...
Her ally jumps at the body-moving bandwagon.
Her fugitive mom and dad mobilephone home.
Her identification is stolen by means of a look-alike.
Her look-alike is located, well...dead.
Under suspicion for homicide, Carlotta discovers that her devious double might've been got rid of accidentally--and that she may be the genuine goal! Throw in facing her motley staff of kinfolk, buddies and wannabe fans, and Carlotta starts off to imagine that reformatory isn't one of these undesirable replacement after all....
Read Online or Download 2 Bodies for the Price of 1 (Body Movers, Book 2) PDF
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Additional resources for 2 Bodies for the Price of 1 (Body Movers, Book 2)
Facedown on the beach, gripping his ankles, I tried to pull the sonofabitch off his feet. Sonofabitch wasn’t the bad word that I used previously. This was another one, and not as bad as the ﬁrst. His legs were planted wide, and he was strong. Whether my eyes were open or closed, I saw spirals of twinkling lights, and “Somewhere over the Rainbow” played in my head. This led me to believe that I had nearly been knocked unconscious and that I didn’t have my usual strength. He kept trying to hit my head again, but he also had to strive to stay upright, so he managed only to strike my shoulders three or four times.
Sounds bounced deceptively through the ranks of posts and crossbeams and ricocheted off the gently rolling water, but after half a minute, I was sure the craft was proceeding slowly shoreward from the ocean-end of the pier. I looked westward but could not see the boat for the intervening substructure. The pilot might be cruising in open water, paralleling the pier, or he could be threading through the pilings to conduct a more thorough search. Although the ﬂoodlamps were below my position and were directed downward, light bounced off the moving water.
I rolled off my back, rose into night air colder than the water. Listening to the outboard engine fade in the distance, I waded ashore through whispering surf and a scrim of sea foam. Out of the white fog, up from the white beach came a gray form, and suddenly a dazzling light bloomed three inches from my face. Before I could reel backward, the ﬂashlight swung up, one of those long-handled models. Before I was able to dodge, the ﬂashlight arced down and clubbed me, a glancing blow to the side of my head.