Release Date ... Madness Made in Mayhem And Ready for ARC Readers/Launch Team

Madness Made in Mayhem, Book 2 of the Grit & Grace Mystery series will be released on October 15.

Hip hip, hooray!

Only a three-month wait since Match Made in Mayhem, Book 1 released.

But some readers have been saying HURRY UP!

I typed as fast as I could!

A three month interval is perfect. Unless I wrote a madman (kinda like what I did).

ME:

Grab Match Made in Mayhem so you're all caught up.

That's only a small yet shameless plug.

A preview:

“Every contact leaves a trace. Sometimes the loudest evidence is what’s missing.”

—Wyatt Gibson, ME

CHAPTER ONE

Luke

Monday, September 21, 6:45 a.m.

Sunlight sliced across the room, spotlighting every bad choice I’d made after midnight. My mouth tasted like sour milk doing its best impression of vodka, and neither flavor loved me back.

Six-fifty-five. Late.

A noise in the kitchen on the first floor brought me a memory. I sat on the edge of the guest room bed.

Perfect. Flawless start to a hungover day. Figures. I couldn’t count the times I’d slept elsewhere, drunk.

But now, I had difficulty recalling how the night ended.

Did I do anything stupid?

I pattered to the top of the stairs. Crap. The redhead I’d taken on a first date was making coffee in my kitchen.

I’d cleaned up my life. I thought.

Before, I’d have been in bed with a woman.

Sometimes one with a name I couldn’t remember.

A knock at the door yanked me from one shock to the next.

Oh, no.

Dakota.

My heart sank.

"Hey, Madison—my partner’s here,” I called, scrambling to my feet. Terrible idea with a hangover.

“Call in. I’ve made coffee,” Madison yelled from the kitchen.

“Sorry.” I grabbed my jeans off the floor, hopped into them, and immediately face-planted.

Madison was already running to the foyer.

“I’ll get it,” she called.

“No—wait—”

Too late.

I slid down the stair rail to the main floor, shirtless and half-dressed, just in time to see Madison, in my sweats, open the door.

The house looked like a Tasmanian devil had redecorated. Bottles everywhere. Normally, I kept the place spotless. Today? Not a chance.

She smiled. “Hi, Dakota.”

Fantastic.

I grabbed the doorjamb, mortified. “I got this, Madison.”

She slung an arm around my neck and kissed me. Then kept kissing me. Heat crawled up my face. I waved a helpless arm toward Dakota.

Dakota cleared her throat, clearly entertained, eyeing me, Madison, and the evidence.

“Be right there,” I said, peeling Madison off me.

Dakota lifted a brow. “Three minutes. Interesting case.” She nodded at Madison. “Nice to see you again. And Madison, I think I hear your phone beeping.”

CASE FILE 2

Luke

Three Minutes Later

I jumped the picket fence because I had ten seconds and counting. Dakota handed me the look as I climbed into the cruiser.

We’d been partners for six months. Friends, too. Right now, though, she was savoring my misery like a slow sip of coffee.

She handed me a bag of doughnuts and an espresso, then pulled onto the street. “I’ve got my SOCO gear, if you need it.”

I frowned. “For what?”

Her eyes flicked toward my front door as she turned the car. “Habit. I respond to disasters.”

Oh.

She meant me.

I choked on my coffee. “That wasn’t a disaster. That was,” I fought my brain for words, “a mild domestic turbulence event.”

“Mm-hmm. With a witness.”

“I resent that. She was very polite about it.”

She didn’t look at me. “You had clothes on the lamp.”

Hot coffee burned my lip. “I did not.”

Dakota’s mouth twitched. Victory was hers, and she knew it. “Relax. If it were a real crime scene, I’d have already taped off your porch.”

“Comforting,” I muttered. “Nothing says friendship like crime scene tape and a badge.”

“And booties,” she added. “So many booties.”

I sighed into my coffee.

This is what I get for trusting a woman who owns latex gloves in bulk.

“First date,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road.“Go the way you expected?”

“I’m trying to start my day without a formal deposition.”

Pleading amnesia was a poor defense.

“Got the gist at the front door.” She bit her lip. “Spill everything. Partner privilege.”

“You get case details. The rest is classified under ‘complicated, still under review.’”

Which was code for, I wasn’t sure yet whether I’d just made a mess of things or stumbled into something new and shiny.