Murder for One: Direct Sales Divas, #1

By Riley Blake

A party plan jewelry show goes off without a hitch until an ousted guest turns up dead and all fingers point to one possible suspect—the new Diva in town.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Riley Blake
• Release date: Nov 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386907015

Book preview

Chapter One

It was the kind of scream that the average person didn’t soon forget. It went on and on. Someone should put a sock in it. That’s when it registered. That someone was me.

Laurie, my annoying party hostess, opened the storm door and flipped on the light. Something wrong, Madge?

The light made matters worse. I mashed one of my hands! I waved a mannequin’s fingers in her direction. She’s fine. I tried not to stare at the body in my trunk. So am I! Couldn’t say the same for Louise Awson.

You’re too much! Laughter filled the air as she reentered her home.

I lifted the trunk lid and peeked inside again. Geez, Louise. I gasped. No pun intended. Not that she cared but I did. Louise had been one of the nicest guests of the evening. 

With that in mind, I hurriedly pressed my fingers against her wrist and felt for a pulse that wasn’t there. Her set eyes and the bloody drip from lips to chin gave away her current condition, not that I expected her condition to change.

She was dead and I was uncertain of what to do next.

If only I had a cell phone. Then, I could call my older sister Agnes. She always knew how to handle the more delicate situations. Surely, she’d know what to do here. As long as she’d lived, I was guessing she’d found at least one body, maybe even two. Before I made a call to anyone, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to calm down and think like a sensible adult.

Should I return inside and tell my hostess and other guests what had happened or simply ask to use the phone? Should I scream again and act as if I’d just found the body? I looked down at my three black suitcases, the bulk of my distributor kit. Probably not a good idea. I hadn’t moved more than an inch or two since returning to my car.

A dead guest at the end of a Diva Demo was handled with kid gloves. Once an irritating reminder of long hours in Direct Sales Diva training, the Diva Handbook now served as a useful tool.

You’re sitting on the manual, Louise, I said, biting my lip as soon as I said it. What was happening here? Was this some sort of cruel joke? I glanced at the house, hoping to see a roomful of women with their noses pressed against the windows. I’d recently read about lifelike mannequins. A famous model once took a bunch of them to a Hollywood party. Please tell me you’re a clone.

My sister had always been a prankster and lived by the rule of ‘nothing is as it seems’ and this was one such time when I really hoped that old adage held true. Pushing the thought aside, I mustered all the strength I could find and gently scooted Louise’s body aside. At the same time, I yanked the Diva Handbook free.

Her body rolled away from me and landed