Synopsis
December 31, 1941. Young Houston socialite Tracy Truworth, Apprentice P.I., can’t imagine a better way to send off the old year and ring in the new than by dancing through the night with her fella, Pete Stalwart. But a swell evening soon takes a terrible turn when a fellow dancer with moves like Fred Astaire ends up dead on the dance floor. And before the hands on the clock can point to midnight, a finger is pointed at Pete, accusing him of murdering the young man.
Then after Pete is hauled away in handcuffs, the night goes from bad to worse . . . and Tracy’s sweet grandmother is accused of stealing an ancient artifact from the museum. Now Tracy must team up with her boss and mentor, Sammy Falcone, in order to find the stolen statuette, unmask the real murderer, and restore the reputations of those she loves the most.
Yet as America becomes embroiled in another world war, the risks and sacrifices intensify—even on the homefront. And Tracy soon finds her own home invaded by a near parade of questionable characters, while unsavory suspects lurk in the shadows, and a ruthless reporter makes her life miserable. With time ticking against her, Tracy must be willing to swing past the setbacks and hop through the hazards if she hopes to solve a mystery that involves a lot of dancing . . . and a lot more danger.
Excerpt
Pete took my
hand and led me back to the side porch, where he put his coat over my
shoulders, and together we sat on the wooden porch swing.
By now the
moon had risen higher above the treetops, while the stars made the night sky
look like it was littered with diamonds. The air was cool and crisp, and I
detected the faint smell of smoke coming from fireplaces in the mansions near
ours.
Pete wrapped
an arm around me and pulled me close. “Tracy, I know this world has become a
pretty topsy-turvy place. And times have changed. Things aren’t the same for us
as they were for our parents.”
I leaned back
and looked into his eyes. “No. They’re not.”
Pete gulped
and went on. “Normally, it would be acceptable for a couple to meet and date
for a while. Then after a time . . .” He hesitated, as though he were searching
for the right words.
“Yes?” I
asked, feeling emotional all of a sudden.
“Well . . . This
war has changed things. And the rules have changed with them.”
I sighed.
“They sure have.”
He took a
deep breath. “Right now we have no idea what tomorrow will bring. Or if we’ll
even have a tomorrow, for that matter.”
Tears pricked
at the back of my eyes. “I know. It’s not easy to face up to. But it’s the
truth.”
“So Tracy,
here’s what has been weighing on me. If these were normal times, I know it
would be far too soon for us to talk about this . . . but, well, to be honest,
I know how I feel about you. I know how I’ve always felt about you. I also know there’s no other woman in the
world for me but you . . . and well . . .”
“Yes?” I
asked barely above a whisper.
And that’s
when we heard it. A woman’s scream. The sound pierced the night and startled us
so much that we both jumped a mile. It was so loud that it might as well have
been an air-raid warning siren.
Then the
scream came a second time, even more shrill and terrifying than the first one.
And it was coming from right inside our
mansion.
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Giveaway
Time to get “in the mood” with a fun 1940s-themed giveaway! Use the Rafflecopter form below to enter for a chance to win a pewter ornament from The National WWII Museum, a Glenn Miller CD, and paperback copies of the first two books in the Tracy Truworth series: Bad Day for a Bombshell and Swell Time for a Swing Dance. Due to shipping costs and varying international laws, this giveaway is open to US residents (age 18 or older) only. Good luck!a Rafflecopter giveaway
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