A Fortune to Die For


Welcome to the 
White Oaks-Mafia Series

where having $$$ can get you killed.

Megan Clarke had a good life until she wins the Mega Times Lottery and discovers the prize comes with a curse. Worse than the many money-hungry suitors, a serial killer has her in his sight. She changes her name and moves to Iowa with plans to buy their last major forest of white oaks and turn it into a State Park. Unfortunately, the Lottery Curse doesn't stop at state lines and someone there wants her dead, as well. Good thing a disturbingly handsome law officer is just as determined to keep her alive.








INTERESTED IN THE BLOG TOUR?
from 2/6-2/13




WANT TO KNOW MORE?

I LOVE TO SHARE MY RESEARCH

CHECK OUT THESE AMUSING BLOGS:

2/15/16

RESEARCH BLOG 1
Is there really mafia in Iowa?

2/18/16
RESEARCH BLOG 2
Are there bears in Iowa

2/20/16
RESEARCH BLOG 3
How do the 'non-existent bears of Iowa compare to NJ Bears?

2/22/16
RESEARCH BLOG 5

Mafia Lingo

2/23/16
RESEARCH BLOG 4
Liza's personal encounter with the Mafia




WANT AN EXCERPT?



Megan realized it was going to be a while before he’d refocus on the package. “Can I get you something to drink? Green Tea with lemon grass?” He looked health conscious. Actually, he looked like a movie star with a crew cut.
He glanced up. “Sounds good.” He then glanced around. “Any place I can sit and read these?”
“Seriously? There’s got to be over two hundred letters in there.”
“I know. Which is why I’d prefer to do this sitting down.”
“Okay, but if this package blows up on a timer, I’m going to be grumpy when I reach the afterlife.”
He chuckled at her warning, set down the letter he was reading, and picked up the package. “If I open this in the next room, will you be safe from blasts?”
“The room is steel-lined, so I think so. But wouldn’t you rather have some sort of robot handle the matter?”
His adorable grin returned. “Oddly, we don’t have one of those.”
“I could buy you one… You could just take the package somewhere safe and leave it unopened until the robot arrives. I have no problem donating the money to get you guys a bomb robot, given this probably won’t be the last time I need one.”
He studied her a long moment before replying. “You know how I got to be a detective so early in life?”
She almost replied that good-looking people lived a charmed life and received promotions more often than less attractive people, but realized he wouldn’t appreciate her observation. So she behaved and answered, “No.”
“I’ve very good instincts. For example, before you replied, you were thinking something…something I wouldn’t like, so you wisely kept it to yourself.”
Her face burned. Busted! “And your instincts tell you the package is safe?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then take it in the other room and open it.”
Despite his confidence in his instincts, Megan remained on pins and needles for the excruciatingly long half-hour that crawled by as she waited for Detective Williams to return.
Or blow up.


Finally, she could stand it no more and opened the door. Peeking inside, she huffed at the sight of him sitting on the couch staring at pictures.
She stepped forward but stopped before getting close enough to see what was in the stack of photos. “Is it body parts?” One of her threat letters had said they’d send her body parts of dead lottery winners if she didn’t send them twenty million.
He smiled at her. “No. They are pictures of trees and creeks. There’s a letter as well.”
“Is it saying there are body parts in the woods?”
He set the pictures down. “Why don’t you read the non-threatening letter? And I’ll go retrieve the threatening letters and read those.”
“It’s going to take you forever.”
He tilted his head. “Hours. Is your offer of green tea still good?”
“Of course. Would you like some turkey chili with it? It’s healthy.”
He rose and smiled. “Green tea will do.”
After returning to the kitchen, she poured two green teas while he snared the box of hate. “Sorry I called you out for nothing.”
His brow furrowed, and he looked at the collection of angry correspondence in his arms. “This isn’t nothing. Is Sergeant Adams aware of how many death threats you’ve received?”
She grimaced. “He just told me to keep them. He never asked for a count. But he probably didn’t realize there was a whole box full. The last time he came, I only had a half dozen or so. I guess all those letters begging for money I don’t answer are pissing people off.”



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