It's Breathless on Friday... Time for another good book
so let's go...
Let Music Tell the Story
A great big thank you to Raven McAllen for hosting me on her blog
today!
(you are very welcome—R)
I am very excited to be here and celebrate my newest release Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos, book
one of the Secret Lives of Police Wives series. In this first book of the series, Cyndi Mills
is the wife of over-zealous, often over-bearing and always over-protective
police officer Jason Mills. She is desperate for a little time to herself so
she takes a job cleaning office buildings for four hours every Friday night.
The work is boring and she is way underpaid but the time is hers. Until the
chance to earn hundreds of dollars a night using her love of dancing comes along
working as an exotic dancer in a local gentleman's club. Her act breathes new life
into old 1980's rock songs and is a big hit. The only catch is she has to keep it a secret
from her husband, which she manages to do until she steps right into the middle
of a messy crime plot and has to either risk her marriage or the lives of the
women she works with.
I love music almost as much as I love writing and as a child of the
'80's I am still a big fan of the American rock 'n roll hair bands. Many of my
favorite songs of the time are referenced in the book by Cyndi and her fellow
dancers. They have become a playlist for the book and the basis for the music I
listened to while I wrote the story.
1.
Girls, Girls, Girls Motley Crue
2.
Pour Some Sugar on Me Def Leppard
3.
Sweet Child of Mine
Guns
'n Roses
4. Cherry Pie Warrant
5. Rag Doll
Aerosmith
6. You Give Love a Bad
Name Bon Jovi
7. Like a Virgin
Madonna
8. Trashy Women Confederate
Railroad
9. Copacabana Barry Manilow
I'm sure you're wondering
how Barry Manilow made it to a list of rock and roll songs. A sweet, young Hawaiian
girl named Lola is all I will say.
If I could have worked
another song into the book, I would have added something mellow like one of the
great rock ballads of the decade. Perhaps Jason and Cyndi need a love song.
Cinderella's You Don't Know What You Got
(till it's gone) would fit nicely as number ten on the list and the ending
of the story.
~~~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~
Blurb
Even a cop's wife has secrets… When young
exotic dancers start disappearing, can Cyndi find the missing girls without
exposing her own little secret?
Cyndi Mills has a great life. A handsome
husband that desires her, a beautiful daughter, and friends she could trust
with her life. It's only logical that she secretly takes a job as an exotic
dancer at one of Virginia Beach's night clubs.
When dancers start disappearing, Cyndi is
determined to get to the bottom of it. Unfortunately, solving the case means
her overly protective husband has to know that she has been lying to him for
months about where she goes every Friday night. Cyndi has no idea just how deep
she will get by going undercover as a confidential informant. Will she risk her
marriage to find justice?
Excerpt
Jason leaned against the
counter, arms folded across his chest. She recognized that look immediately. He
was doing the cop thing, analyzing her, and she could tell he knew something
didn't add up. His left eyebrow rose just a tad higher than the right as he
studied her. "Why do you have glitter in your hair?"
Cyndi shook her hair and a
shower of glitter rained down on her sweatshirt. Damn. Somehow she had missed a boat load of sparkle. Damn, that
stuff got everywhere.
"Jody brought her daughter's
costume for a dance recital to work so I could help her fix a tear. It was all
covered in sparkles. The damn stuff got on everything. Had to go back over the
carpets with the sweeper twice and I'm still not sure we got it all."
Jason continued to stare down
at her from his full six feet of height. His stare was laser sharp, his
presence imposing. It was no wonder he was so good at catching the bad guy. Hardened
criminals squirmed under the intensity of that stare. Hopefully he couldn't see
through her despite the fact she felt as transparent as the shower curtain
hanging in their bathroom.
"You think Harper is going
to want to do that stuff?"
"Harper is four. It's a
little early to predict if she will be a dancer or a swimmer or...whatever."
"Yeah, well, I just don't
want that glittery stuff all over the house. The guys won't ever let me live it
down, I show up to work all sparkly like that." He shook his head.
Cyndi stepped closer to her
husband and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm exhausted, honey. How about
we go to bed?"
Jason hugged her close.
"You gonna wear a little French maid's outfit like you do when you clean
those offices?"
"Jason!"
"Can't fault a guy for
trying." Jason's grin was a sharp contrast to his earlier scrutiny. He
pulled out the neckline of her top and peered down into it. "Come on. I
know you gotta wear some kinda uniform!"
Thank God she had changed in to
her old white bra from the discount store and left her bustier at work.
Stepping back, Cyndi held her arms out and spun around slowly. "You're looking
at it, baby. Doesn't my ratty old sweatshirt turn you on?"
"Not as much as a little
maid's outfit would. It's nearly Halloween. Maybe I ought to pick one up for
you to wear at work. You know, so you don't mess up your own clothes."
"Ohhh, Jason... you are such a guy!"
"You would rather I be
such a girl?"
"Of course, not! Just don't
be so obvious about being a man all the time." Cyndi filled a glass of
water from the tap, drank it in one gulp, then placed her used cup in the sink
before heading toward their bedroom. "Come on, cop man. You play your
cards right I might let you frisk me before we go to sleep."
Cyndi heard light switches
flip, door chains sliding and the announcement that the house emergency alarm
was being set. Jason rushed through his nightly round of safety checks as he
yelled to her from various locations around the house.
"Do you have anything on
you that might hurt me?" Snap went the deadbolt on the front door.
"Needles, knives, or guns?" Click went the security latch on the
sliding door to the back yard. "Do I need gloves or cuffs...?"
"Not sure you're gonna need gloves but
cuffs might be fun," she called back as she climbed out of her clothes and
dropped into the cool sheets.
*******
Author Bio
Carolyn LaRoche grew up in snow country but fled the
cold and ice several years ago. She now lives near the beach with her husband,
their two boys, two finicky cats and one old dog. When she is not at the
baseball field cheering on big hits and home runs, she is busy teaching science
to unwilling teenagers.
Where to find me
online:
Twitter: @CarolynLaRoche
Buy Links:
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