Showing results for "Crisis" in Amateur Sleuth

With my life back to normal - normal being a very relative word - one would think I’d catch a break. One would be very wrong. With an angel gunning for me and a demon in my bed, life couldn’t be more complicated. Not to mention, I’m going to have to make a rather large life choice. Do I want to live forever? Does anyone? Forever is a very long time. Whatever. I’ll think about it tomorrow...or next week...or next month. As long as I have my girlfriends, my dogs, a super-sized case of merlot, and my deceased squatters, I’m good to go.

After a Luke Skywalker/Darth Vader moment, I discovered I do indeed have a father. He comes with a hell of a lot of baggage, but I’ve decided to keep him. Not only do I have a father, I have a kick-ass new sister, a ghostly family, and super powers to boot. If you add to the mix that I’m dating the Grim Reaper, it’s a freakin’ party. The only thing standing in the way of my happiness is the Angel of Mercy, though Angel of Misery is more appropriate. She’s responsible for almost everyone I have loved, and who has loved me, being taken away.

When Dorothy Martin and her husband Alan meet the wealthy Ahmad family, they are charmed by their courtesy, their perfect English, their delightful children, and their commitment to peace. Following a concert at Sherebury Cathedral, the Ahmads offer to host a party afterwards at the Rose and Crown pub. But Mr. and Mrs. Ahmad don’t show up. Their children are asleep upstairs at the inn, but the parents are nowhere to be found. With suspicions of kidnap and even murder being raised, Dorothy and Alan feel compelled to assist the police and MI5 in their efforts to find their new friends.

Thirty-nine was a fantastic year. I was married to the man I loved. I had a body that worked without creaking. My grandma, who raised me, was still healthy, and life was pretty damned good. But as they say, all good things come to an end. One year later, I’m a widow. My joints are starting to ache. Gram is in the nursing home, and dead people think my home is some kind of supernatural bed-and-breakfast. Gluing body parts onto semi-transparent people has become a side job - deceased people I’m not even sure are actually there.

Never in my 40 years did I think my new normal would be gluing body parts back onto ghosts and hosting a houseful of dead squatters. Thank God for superglue and a strong stomach. Never thought I’d date the Grim Reaper and that I would be the one to blow it. I mean, how idiotic does one have to be to get dumped by a dude who lives in Hell? Going about business as usual is not usual in any way. No one is who they seem to be...and to be honest, neither am I. What I’d known to be true has turned out to be myth. The angels are frightening, and the demons are hot.

Beneath a sky of limpid sapphire blue, the research ship Gorgon rolls gently on the scintillating waters of the Caribbean Sea. Below, two men in a bathysphere, lowered more than a 150 fathoms into the crushing depths. But when the sphere is raised, there is only one man inside … and he has a knife in his back! Now Sexton Blake must answer an impossible question: How did the killer escape?