Today I'm promo-ing FOLLOW THE DOTTED LINE by Nancy Hersage! And she graciously provided an excerpt, so check that out below. Buy links provided below.
About the Book:
A tale of endearing family dysfunction wrapped up in whopping good mystery!Andrea Bravos is jolted into action when the ashes of her ex arrive in a burger box via the US mail. Andy’s quixotic adventure to find out what happened will upset the officials of several small countries, insult the founders of three major religions, give her four adult children acid reflux and lead her to assault with a deadly golf club. Bizarrely, the story is almost all true: even the avocados, WWII spy, IRS agent, palm reader and that spider. Move over Marple and Plum, here comes Andy!
Get your copy of FOLLOW THE DOTTED LINE today!
EXCERPT:
Chapter 8
Cremains of the Day
“What the
hell are cremains?” asked Lilly.
“It’s the
industry term for ashes,” Andy said, after she got up and refilled the
margarita glass herself. “Cremated remains. Cre-mains. Get it?” She waited, but
the girls weren’t going to be sidetracked. “Okay. Okay. Here’s what happened. I
just wanted to get some basic information. The cause of death. Did your dad
have a will? Stuff like that. But getting that information is harder than you
think without knowing just where and when he died and without, you know,
technically being related to him anymore.”
“Oh, my
god,” said an alarmed Lil, “you didn’t try calling Tilda, did you?”
“Me? Call
Tilda? Absolutely not.” Andy shot optic daggers at Harley, who had no doubt
about keeping his mouth shut this time. “All I had were the ashes, so I just
went from there.”
“From
there—to where, Mom?” Sam asked.
“Well, to
at least confirming that he’s dead,” said Andy. “And that is what’s in the box.
The DNA results from the cremains.”
All eyes
now returned to Harley, who was still holding the FedEx package.
“They can
get DNA from ashes?” Lil asked, skeptically.
“No,” Sam
informed them. “It’s almost impossible to get DNA after cremation. Don’t you
people know anything about science?”
“But this
company we found online said they could test for DNA,” said Harley. “And we had
to fill out a Cremains Acknowledgement Form and everything. And they promised
we’d get most of the ashes back. For burial. Or whatever.”
“To be
accurate, they said there was a 50/50 chance they could get DNA from their testing,”
said Andy, trying not to look as ridiculous as she was feeling. “I thought it
was worth a try.”
“We’ll
that sounds like a scam, Mother. So I’m not even going to ask you what you
paid,” said Sam. “Your bad. Now open the package.”
Harley
tried to hand the box to Andy, but she waved him off. You do it, genius, she
thought to herself, then said, “Would you mind?”
He
dutifully slit the clear plastic wrap covering the cardboard with his
fingernail and took out the paper envelope addressed to Andy. She waved her
hand again, and he opened the letter.
“Read
it,” she said, draining her glass.
“Dear Ms.
Bravos,” Harley read. “Please find enclosed the laboratory results for the
cremains testing performed by our company on the samples you sent us recently.”
“Wait a
minute,” Sam interrupted. “Didn’t you have to send them a sample of Dad’s DNA
for comparison?”
“Yeah,”
was all Andy felt compelled to answer.
“So how
did you get Dad’s DNA?”
“I, ah,
had some,” Andy replied. “From a while ago.”
“You had
some? Really? From a while ago? Care to enlighten us?” said Sam.
“Not
really. But if I do, there will be no laughter, is that clear?” She could see
Sam biting her lip in anticipation. “I mean it.” Both girls nodded agreement.
“I have a lock of your father’s hair,” Andy said. “From when we were dating.”
Sam
couldn’t help herself. A guffaw, if ever Andy heard one! She scowled back.
Lil put
her hand on her mother’s and smiled affectionately. “I think that’s sweet.”
“Shut
up,” said Andy. “Let’s get this over with.”
Harley
continued. “The specifics of the test results are contained on page two of this
letter. However, a summary of our findings indicates the following. Number one,
the sample cremains were not suitable to extract for a DNA profile.”
“Bingo!”
Sam said.
Having
slipped from defensive to defeated in record time, Andy sighed audibly. “Would
you mind, Sam? Let’s not make me feel like a bigger fool than necessary.”
Sam
relented immediately. “Right. I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Want me
to read number two?” Harley asked.
“Number
two?” said Andy.
“Of the
summary. Number two says, ‘The sample cremains show no signs of organic
material and therefore do not, in all likelihood, include human tissue.’” Harley
looked up, awaiting further instruction.
“Let me
see the letter,” Sam said, taking the paper from Harley. She looked first at
page one and then at page two. “It means the ashes are probably fake,” she
said.
“Probably?”
Lil wanted to know.
Sam
grabbed the invoice. “The test cost $99, Lil. I doubt these folks can tell the
difference between a corpse and cat litter.”
“But if
there’s no organic material present,” Andy reiterated, reading the results for
herself, “that means Tilda sent us dust.”
It took a
few moments for the implications to sink in. And the one that sank in fastest
was the bizarre behavior of the widow-in-chief.
“Why on earth would Tilda send fake ashes?”
asked Sam.
“Maybe
she just wanted to keep his real ashes for herself,” Lilly theorized. “We all
agree she’s weird.”
“Or maybe
it’s her way of flipping us off,” Sam offered.
“Or maybe
he’s not dead,” said Andy, trying to squeeze herself back into the
conversation. It worked.
“Why
would she pretend he’s dead?” asked
Sam, genuinely confused.
“Who
knows?” mused Andy. “She hated it every time Mitch tried to call your dad. She
was jealous. Some women are like that. Especially women who marry a guy with
children and don’t have any of their own. So she decided to tell us he was dead
to get us out of their, you know, busy and satisfying lives,” Andy concluded,
with what she thought was just the perfect touch of contempt.
“And you
think a fake cremation would be okay with Dad?” Lil wanted to know.
Andy
considered this and said, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think.”
“Well,”
Sam pointed out, “Dad still could be dead. These just aren’t his ashes.
Whatever’s going on, this test doesn’t actually get us anywhere, Mom.”
The kid
holding the faux remains raised his hand slightly, as if he were waiting to be
called on before he spoke.
“What is
it, Harley?” Andy asked.
“Why
don’t you just call Uncle Mark? You know. On his cell. See if he picks up.”
Out of
the mouth of boobs, Andy thought.
Sam
picked up her phone and dialed.
“Hi,
Samantha,” boomed the voice on the other end of the line. “What’s up?”
“Hi,
Mitch. Sorry to call in the middle of work.”
“No
problem.”
“Listen,
I want you to call Dad.”
“Call
him? How do I do that?”
“You have
his cell number, right?”
“Yeah.
But he’s dead, Sam. Remember?”
“I know.
Just call the number.”
“Call the
number? I don’t want to call the number.”
“Just do
it, will you?”
“Why?”
“Mom had
the ashes tested. They’re questionable. We want to know if he’s still taking
calls.”
“Those
weren’t his ashes?!”
“It turns
out there’s room for doubt.”
“Well,
that certainly creeps me out, Samantha. Why have I been nominated to make the
call?”
“Because
you’re a big boy, Mitch. Just do it.”
A long
beat, as Mitch considered his responsibilities. “Okay. Hold on.” He clicked
off, and the little review committee waited in silence. He was back on the line
a minute later.
“Sam?”
“Did you
get him?”
“No. The
number’s no longer in service,” Mitch told her. “What does that mean?”
“Damned
if I know,” said Sam. “I’ll get back to you.” And she hung up.
The
possibility that Tilda Trivette might have been screwing with Mark Kornacky’s
remains seemed to jettison his children into action in a way that the man’s
reported death had not. In the two hours before Lilly had to leave for the
airport to catch her plane back to Idaho, Team Kornacky came together in a rare
show of unity.
Huge thanks to author Nancy Hersage for providing us with an excerpt from Follow The Dotted Line! Make sure to get your copy from Amazon.com today!
Happy Reading!
~!~ Amanda, Novel Addiction ~!~
No comments:
Post a Comment