Dead Ex by Harley Jane Kozak

By Harley Jane Kozak

Wollie Shelley—the endearing, idiosyncratic heroine of the award-winning Dating useless males, courting Is homicide, and A Date You Can’t Refuse—returns in a humorous homicide secret set on this planet of tv soaps.

When David Zetrakis, the manufacturer of a well-liked cleaning soap opera, is located shot to loss of life the day after Christmas, Wollie Shelley reveals herself stuck up within the homicide research. Zetrakis was once one of many many Mr. Wrongs in Wollie’s profession as a serial dater, and her buddy Joey has emerged because the media’s top suspect. A hot-tempered famous person who had dated Zetrakis and was once fired from his express a few years in the past, Joey has inherited a million-dollar Klimt from him. yet Joey isn't the basically power suspect. Zetrakis left plenty of great bequests to the solid and workforce of the convey. and because the courting correspondent on a conversation express known as SoapDirt, Wollie, who’s required to dine and dish with the celebs, fast discovers that the behind-the-scenes intrigues of tv soaps are as hugely charged because the on-screen shenanigans.

When Wollie isn't attempting to defend Joey from an onslaught of predatory newshounds, she’s supporting her brother make the transition from a psychological sanatorium to a midway residence and negotiating her dating with Simon, her FBI-agent boyfriend. Dead Ex is one other full-out romp of a secret bound to please Kozak’s many fans—and win her many new ones, too.

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I spoke quickly, fearing imminent disconnection. “No,” she said, her voice going in and out. ” I yelled, not knowing if she heard me or where I was going. God-awful indeed. What kind of culinary mind would fill pita bread with ice cream? I saw a turnout on the road ahead and slowed. Only for my best friend would I attempt a U-turn on Beverly Glen. Twenty minutes later I found a strip mall on the corner of Topanga Canyon and Ventura boulevards, centered around two grocery stores, Ralphs and Vons.

I handed over my blazer and tried on her leather coat. It wouldn’t button across my chest. “Take some cash too. And why don’t you stay with us? Simon’s got room, and—” “Nope. You’re in the honeymoon stage. ” Simon would probably agree. “Joey,” I said. ” She looked startled. “When? Oh, Christmas Eve. That was just . . nothing. A mild argument. Not even a blip on the screen, for us. ” She sighed. “I went back again today to pick up some of my stuff, but I couldn’t get in. ” “God, Joey. ” “I was, this month.

I asked, answering it. ” “Go home,” he said. ” I took this to mean he was not yet home himself, but before I could get into it, he got another call and hung up. I got another call too. Fredreeq. ” she asked. “Upstairs. ” “TV room. ” “Bathroom. ” Someone yelled from downstairs. “It’s on the news! David’s death! ” “Wollie,” my phone squawked, “forget Joey and come down. ” “No, I don’t want Joey wandering off, trying to drive—” “You’ll see her from here. Hold on. I’m on the move . . approaching the living room .

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