A cow suicide, a revolving door rescue, and the birth of a bright purple pig are starting to make Kate Saxee wonder if taking a job in her small hometown of Branson Falls, Utah, was such a great idea. As The Branson Tribune editor, Kate covers local news, which, more often than not, involves her accident-prone mom. Nothing truly newsworthy has ever happened in the quiet town until local teen Chelsea Bradford turns up dead in a Branson Falls lake.
The police rule Chelsea’s death an accident, but Kate suspects there’s more to the story—and she’s not the only one. Two of Branson’s most eligible bachelors are determined to help her solve the crime—among other things. But the small town social network is faster than Twitter, and gossip about Kate’s love-life is quickly branding her the Branson Falls hussy.
As Kate learns more about Chelsea, she discovers that plenty of people are trying to cover up the real story behind the girl’s death—including Chelsea’s parents. Now Kate has to juggle work, men, her mom’s most recent disaster involving a low-speed John Deere Combine chase on the freeway, and fend off the Mormons heaven-bent on saving her soul—all while solving Chelsea’s murder. Dealing with this is going to require a lot of coffee, chocolate frosted donuts, Neil Diamond’s greatest hits, and a slew of words not on the town approved imitation swear list.
Targeted Age Group:: 18+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I wanted to write a funny mystery/romance about living in a small Utah town.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
As soon as I got the idea for the story, the characters came to me easily. Outgoing Kate, mysterious Hawke, arrogant Drake. Two of my favorite characters are Ella, a volunteer at the newspaper, and Sophie, Kate’s Mom, though. Sophie is actually based largely on my mom and her disasters/adventures.
“Why is it,” Drake asked, coming closer to me, “that whenever I think I’m going to spend some time with you, another guy shows up?”
I backed up to move away from him. “Well, that’s not really what happened, is it?” I pointed out. “Spence was already here when you arrived.”
“Is there a reason you invited him?”
“Does the reason concern you?”
He put his hands out and looked at me like I was an idiot. “I’m here aren’t I? So yeah, it concerns me. I thought I was coming over for a family dinner.”
“So did I,” I said. “But then you showed up.”
“I was invited.”
“Not by me.”
He moved closer. I moved another step back. “You know,” he said, pointing at me with an annoyed look on his face. “I saw a video of you today. I knew you wouldn’t listen to me when I told you to stay away from Hawke, but practically having sex with him on the tabletop of a family restaurant with kids in the room is bad manners at best.”
“That’s quite an imagination you have.”
“Have you seen the video?”
“I was there; I don’t need to see the video to know what happened,” I answered, and then took it a step further. “And I can promise you” —I paused, letting the corners of my mouth slide into a sly smile— “I would remember if I’d had sex on the table—especially if the sex was with Hawke.”
Drake scowled and a vein near his temple was so enlarged it looked like it was about to burst. “You could see what Hawke wanted just from looking in his eyes, Katie. And I was watching a grainy cell phone video,” he shook his head. “The Bradford story is dangerous for you to keep pursuing, and so is Hawke.”
My eyes narrowed into slits. “Here’s the thing about me, Drake,” I said. “And it’s probably something you should remember. Write it down if you need to because you might even have to do some research to understand it. I’m not the type of girl who does what she’s told, or gives people what they want just because they want it.”
“Is that so?” he asked.
“Well, here’s something you should remember, so write it down if you need to,” he said as he kept walking toward me. I backed up until I ran into the countertop and I was literally in the corner. “Hawke’s not the type of man to stop until he gets what he wants.” He moved in until our bodies were parallel and we were standing only an inch apart. The tension was running at an all-time high. I was dangerously close to giving in to my hormones. “And neither am I.”
Angela Corbett graduated from Westminster College with a double major in communication and sociology. She has worked as a journalist, freelance writer, and a director of communications and marketing. She loves classic cars, traveling, and listening to U2. She lives in Utah with her extremely supportive husband and their five-pound Pomeranian, Pippin, whose following of fangirls could rival Justin Bieber’s.
She writes YA/NA titles as Angela Corbett.
She writes Adult titles as Destiny Ford.
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