Last Will and Lethal

By Cindy A Christiansen

His family thinks he's guilty of murder. She believes he's innocent. Will greed or love triumph?
     
Story-line: When conscientious Nora Moretti offers to give a statement on behalf of a stranger who has been accused of killing his own grandfather, her life is suddenly in jeopardy.
      
Pacifist Nick DeLuca is extremely honorable and studying to become an anesthesiologist. So, when his own family thinks he's guilty of murder, he's reliant on a stranger to save his good name and future.
     
What everyone wants to know, including Nora's French Bulldog, Renoir, is: Does an inheritance really bring out the worst in everyone?
      
This novella is a contemporary, clean & wholesome, action/adventure romance! If you like action/adventure romance movies like Romancing the Stone then you will enjoy this book!

     

Come to your own conclusions and buy this good book today!

     

"Cindy A. Christiansen's latest release, Last Will and Lethal is a can't-put-it-down heart-stopping murder mystery." - 5 out of 5 Stars, Conger Books Reviews - JoEllen
     
"Her books always have suspense and romance. What a great combination. Then add the dog, one in every book, and we have a great story." - 5 out of 5 Stars, Karla K., Amazon Reviewer
     
"I really enjoyed this novella. The chemistry between the two main characters was very well written and fun to watch them discover their relationship. The greed and resentment that often comes out when there's a death in the family and money to be inherited was also really well described." - 5 out 5 Stars, Wendy, Amazon Reviewer
     
"...[Cindy] keeps you on your toes to help solve the murder, while following the attempts on Nora's life. Greed in families is so true and the author was able to bring this aspect to life." - 5 out of 5 Stars, Amazon Reviewer

    

Come to your own conclusions and buy this good book today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dragonfly Spirit Books
• Release date: Jul 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393120865

Cindy A Christiansen

Bestselling author, Cindy A Christiansen, has combined her love of dogs with her joy of writing to create an award-winning combination. Her novels always include canine characters both in the pages and on the cover, an extension of the credit she gives to her extraordinary rescue dogs for their part in helping her overcome numerous challenges. In a reciprocal gesture for their love and devotion, a portion of the proceeds from her books are donated to assist abandoned and abused dogs. She lives in Utah with her loving husband, two creative children with autism, and a pack of rambunctious dogs. Here's what her books give you: A clean read with no bedroom scenes or offensive language; a tantalizing, fast-paced plot; a story without a lot of boring description; down-to-earth heroes and heroines with everyday jobs; a rollercoaster ride of emotions you face right along with the characters; a special dog to steal your heart; a few added facts, a good message, and that important happily-ever-after ending.

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Dragonfly Spirit Books

Copyright © 2020 Cindy A. Christiansen

First E-book Publication:

Cover design by Dragonfly Spirit Books and www.123rf.com

Edited by and Proofread by Wendy Watkins Remley

All cover art and logo copyright © 2019 by Dragonfly Spirit Books

Dedication

I WAS GOING TO DEDICATE this story to all of those individuals who think things are more important than love, kindness, trust and compassion. Instead, I want to flip that and dedicate this book to all of you who understand what we are on this earth to accomplish. For in the end, we can only take with us how we have lived our lives and the memories of whose lives we’ve touched.

Chapter One

ICY FEAR SHOT THROUGH Nora’s veins as satanic images filled her mind. How had she managed to stage a home for Halloween with spooky skeletons, frightening ghosts, terrifying bowls of eyeball orbs and creepy, bloody-looking body parts? It had been extremely difficult, given her tremendous case of Samhain phobia, but she had done it. She gave the credit to Renoir, her French Bulldog.

Let’s get out of here, she said to him, picking up his leash.

He perked his ears and twisted his head.

He wasn’t a therapy dog, per se, but after the incident...the incident she didn’t want to think about, he had been a huge comfort to her. She positioned the last skeleton head with one loose eyeball on the hall table.

Nora abhorred Halloween. Her body trembled with fear, thinking about how the house resonated with creepy vibes. One should never mess with the occult. No, really. No one should ever mess with the supernatural, and by staging a house with demonic items, she was opening the door to the evils of the underground spiritual world.

But, she had done it. Remarkably so. Now, she just wanted to escape. Renoir let out a low growl. Nora startled.

Go. Go. Go, she said, throwing the house key on the hall table. She picked up Renoir and bolted toward the front door. She slammed the door and it automatically locked behind her. Sprinting to her car in the drizzling rain, she noticed the flat rear tire but jumped in and locked herself and Renoir inside as if she could keep the wicked apparitions away. Her heartbeat nearly exploded in her chest. With the turn of the key, the TPMS light came on, indicating a low tire pressure. Great! Just great! She turned off the ignition and quickly dialed AAA’s number.

Triple A. Can we help you? a woman asked.

Yes, I’m stuck on Cottonwood Lane in Holladay with a flat. Can you come quickly? Nora asked, her breaths rapid. She pulled Renoir close to her and tried to calm down.

This storm has a number of cars off the road. It’s about an hour wait.

You don’t understand. It’s storming, dark and cold. I can’t get back into the house I staged for the Romneys. I left the key inside. It’s my understanding, they won’t be home for another two, two-and-a-half hours. My roommate, Beth, works afternoon shift at a small convenience store not far from our apartment. She’s working and doesn’t have a car. We’ve been sharing my car since we moved to Salt Lake, oh, just a little over twenty months ago. She repeatedly ran her hand down Renoir’s short back.

Ma’am?

We moved here from Santa Clara. You know, it’s a small town in southern Utah close to St. George. Anyway—

Ma’am?

Beth is taking classes at the University of Utah and working, and I decided to get my certification in Home Staging. I just have to make a success of it.

Ma’am. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. I have other calls coming in.

Please don’t hang up on me. I’ll hold. How about that?

I’m sorry, Ma’am. Someone will try to get to you in about an hour.

No— she gasped as the call ended. She wasn’t normally talkative, more introverted, to say the least, but fear brought out the gabbiness in her.

Thunder rumbled. Renoir growled. A cold sweat came over Nora. The wind suddenly whipped through the trees and bushes, sending autumn leaves rolling across the street. Ghostly images danced in the shadows. Nora inhaled deeply and tried to calm her runaway thoughts. Oh, why hadn’t she bought that jack for the trunk like her dad had warned her to do before she left town? Instead, she had let it slip lower and lower on her list of necessities. Rent, utilities, food, fuel, clothing and work had suddenly become the driving forces in her life. She had assumed moving to the city meant everything would be close at hand. Not.

She began to shiver with fear, not just the cold. She wanted to turn on the heat but didn’t dare run down the car battery. Renoir fell asleep. She waited and waited in the dark, in the cold, in the storm until every nerve felt about to burst open. Thunder rumbled again and again not far in the distance. The intensity of the rain increased. She looked at the time on her phone. Ninety minutes. She refused to wait for AAA any longer.

Come on, Renoir, she said.

He looked up at her and yawned.

We can do this. She gripped his leash with white knuckles.

Throwing open her car door and stepping out, she tried to open her umbrella against the sheets of rain coming down horizontally. The wind immediately inverted the umbrella and blew it out of her hands, rolling it down the street. Within seconds, she was completely soaked to the skin. The cold settled in every joint of her body and ached.

She turned and kicked the flat tire on her car. Darn you!

Despite her fear and the storm, she started walking down the winding street, Renoir by her side. Resting at the base of the Wasatch Mountain range, the homes on the street were separated by two to three-acre wooded lots. Her smooth-sole ballet flats slipped on the wet pavement. She inhaled but didn’t fall down. She prayed for a house with lights on, hoping they would help her with the flat tire.

Oh,