By Laura Levine
I am loopy approximately Laura Levine's secret sequence. Her books are so outrageously humorous. --Joanne Fluke
If outfits make the guy, then what do Jaine Austen's elastic-waist pants and T-shirts make her? a way nightmare, in line with her neighbor, Lance. She does not count on Lance--who works within the dressmaker shoe division at Nieman Marcus--to comprehend. . .which is how she finally ends up traveling his favourite boutique, Passions. whereas the couture is easily now not for Jaine, the staff's gossip is. Tiny orange-haired clerk Becky starts off complaining approximately her co-worker Giselle--a.k.a. "Frenchie"-- a brittle blonde who, while she's no longer making enjoyable of consumers in the back of their backs, provides extra-marital notches to her Chanel belt. even though Jaine does not land a brand new glance, she does land a brand new activity while Passions' proprietor offers her an opportunity to jot down their new journal advertisements.
But while Jaine arrives the subsequent morning to pitch her principles, she reveals Frenchie pitched over, stabbed within the neck through one among her personal stilettos. Now all Jaine has to do is work out who hated Frenchie the main, in a case of demise by means of dressmaker knock-off. . .
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Extra info for Shoes to Die For (A Jaine Austen Mystery)
In simple terms Mrs. Horowitz has a working laptop or computer, a pc her son obtained her, which she confesses she makes use of as a plant stand. Their tales aren’t written with the best of ability, yet they're written from the center, and that i reflect on it a privilege to listen to them. the single fly within the Shalom ointment is Abe Goldman. The lone guy in my type, Mr. Goldman is an argumentative outdated coot who bears an uncanny resemblance to Mr. Magoo. simply my good fortune, he’s head over heels in love with me. That evening whilst I confirmed up at Shalom i discovered a field of Tic Tacs at my spot on the head of the desk. “For you, cookie,” Mr. Goldman stated with a wink. or perhaps it was once a blink. Mr. Goldman has an unlucky tic so i will be able to by no means inform even if he’s winking or blinking. “Thank you,” I acknowledged, smiling weakly. “To make your breath kissing sweet,” he further, with one other wink/blink. “So,” I stated, deftly altering the topic. “Who desires to learn their essay? ” Mr. Goldman’s hand shot up like a piston. Mr. Goldman was once continually wanting to learn one other bankruptcy within the saga of his lifestyles as a carpet salesman. I regarded round the room, determined for one more volunteer. yet my women, in contrast to Mr. Goldman, have been frequently shy approximately analyzing their essays, in particular the 1st essay of the night, sooner than the literary ice were damaged. “Anyone? ” I referred to as out, ignoring Mr. Goldman’s hand, now waving frantically. I shot a pleading examine Mrs. Pechter, a around powder puff of a girl with bosoms as titanic as throw pillows, yet she simply popped a Tootsie Roll in her mouth. I switched my imploring gaze to her ally, Mrs. Rubin, yet she shook her head no. eventually Mrs. Horowitz, she of the plant stand machine, raised her hand. “Mrs. Horowitz! Thank goodness. i assumed we’d need to hearken to Mr. Goldman yammer on concerning the joys of broadloom for the following twenty mins. ” ok, so I didn’t quite say that. What I stated used to be, “Go correct forward, Mrs. H. ” Mrs. Horowitz used to be an impressive girl with metal grey hair and a handbag the scale of an in a single day bag. She fished out her essay from the depths of her handbag, then took a deep breath and commenced: “A Day on the Boardwalk. ” Mrs. Horowitz wrote approximately going to Coney Island along with her mom and dad as a child—riding the steamy IRT subway from Flatbush to Brighton seashore, consuming sizzling canine with pickle take pleasure in, donning lengthy one-piece bathing fits, and teasing her father, who by no means ventured out from the color in their seashore umbrella. As Shalom essays went, it was once first-class. plenty of fascinating info and, like such a lot of my scholars’ efforts, written from the center. “Very stable! ” I acknowledged while she was once via. “Any reviews, category? ” “Wonderful,” acknowledged Mrs. Pechter. “I beloved it, too,” acknowledged Mrs. Rubin. A tiny birdlike girl who performed Robin to Mrs. Pechter’s Batman, Mrs. Rubin usually echoed her most sensible friend’s sentiments. Mrs. Greenberg and Mrs. Zahler chimed in with their praises. in simple terms Mr. Goldman appeared unenthused. “It was once the BMT,” he stated. “What? ” Mrs. Horowitz blinked, questioned. “It wasn’t the IRT subway,” Mr. Goldman stated. “It used to be the BMT that went from Flatbush to Brighton seashore. ” “Mr.