The cops and the college president are ready to chalk the death off as an accident, the result of reckless youthful mischief. But Heather knows teenage girls… and girls do not elevator surf. Yet no one wants to listen – not the police, her colleagues, or the P.I. who owns the brownstone where the lives – even when more students start turning up dead in equally ordinary and subtly sinister ways. So Heather makes the decision to take on yet another new career: as spunky girl detective!
But her new job comes with few benefits, no cheering crowds, and lots of liabilities, some of them potentially fatal. And nothing ticks off a killer more than a portly ex-pop star who's sticking her nose where it doesn't belong… "
I asked for a fluffy book so I suppose I've brought it on myself, but I think the chances of me liking this book are slim to none. Wish me luck.
L
2 comments:
I read the book. And seriously, the title is the best part.
Well that's just depressing. I wouldn't read it but a co-worker leant it to me and I don't want to offend.
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