Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Last Diner Standing

Today's special guest is Terri L. Austin. Terri lives in Missouri with her funny, handsome husband and a high maintenance peekapoo.  She’s the author of Diners, Dives and Dead Ends—a Rose Strickland Mystery.  Kirkus Reviews says, “Austin’s debut kicks off her planned series by introducing a quirky, feisty heroine and a great supporting cast of characters and putting them through quite a number of interesting twists.”

Terri will be awarding one commenter at every stop a signed bookmark and a cover postcard (USA/Canada Only), and one randomly drawn commenter on the tour will receive a $25 gift card to Amazon or B&N, winner's choice.

Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:


Rose Strickland is having a blue Christmas. Her friend is arrested for attempted murder, her sexy bad guy crush is marked by a hit man, and her boss is locked in an epic smackdown with a rival diner. Determined to save those she loves, Rose embarks on an investigation more tangled than a box of last year's tree lights. With her eclectic gang at the ready, Rose stumbles across dead bodies, ex-cons, chop shops, jealous girlfriends, jilted lovers, and a gaggle of strippers in a battle for freedom she might not survive.


I’d finished rolling silverware into paper napkins when Roxy Block, a blue-haired fashion plate and my bestie, walked in from the kitchen, chomping gum. She’d quit smoking almost two months ago and now she and her nicotine gum were inseparable. Her short, black skirt was patterned with kittens and playing cards and yarn balls.
“Couldn’t sleep again, huh?” She tied an apron around her waist and headed for the coffeepot.
“Not this time. Janelle’s in jail.”
Roxy’s mouth hung open for so long her gum fell on the floor. “For what?” She bent down and scooped it up, stared at it for a second, as if she might pop it back in her mouth. But with a sigh, she walked to the trash can in the corner and threw it away.
“Asshat’s in a coma, the police think Janelle tried to kill him. Dane and I are going to see her this morning. Cool?”
“Yeah, of course.” She poured a cup of coffee and glanced up. “Do we think she’s guilty?”
Janelle was capable of many things. Putting sugar in Asshat’s gas tank? Naturally. Super gluing his dork to his stomach? Of course. But murder? That just wasn’t her style. “No, I can’t see her killing anyone. Not even Asshat.”
“Me neither,” Roxy said. “But I can totally picture her beating the shit out of someone.”
Ma Ferguson barreled through the connecting door and paused in the doorway, looking like a vengeful goddess in sweatpants. Her short white hair stood on end, her eyes narrowed behind large-framed trifocals.
“That man will regret this, I tell ya.”