{"product_id":"title-wave-isbn-9780425282717","title":"Title Wave","description":"\u003cb\u003eTricia and Angelica leave Booktown behind for a pleasure cruise, but they’re going to need their life jackets because a murderer is also on board in this mystery in Lorna Barrett’s \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling series.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhile her bookstore, Haven’t Got a Clue, is rebuilt following a devastating fire, Tricia Miles and her sister, Angelica, decide to book a cruise for some much needed R \u0026amp; R. Naturally they choose a mystery lovers cruise, where they can ponder whodunit in deck chairs while sipping colorful drinks and soaking up some rays.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut the fun is cut short when a fellow passenger is murdered for real. Is the killer a famous mystery author, one of her fans, or a member of the ship’s crew? As Tricia tries to find the killer before they reach port, she may be cruising for a bruising...\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eINCLUDES RECIPES \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Booktown Mysteries\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “[A] delightful cozy mystery.”—Fresh Fiction\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[A] stunning, unputdownable mystery.”—\u003ci\u003eThe Cozy Mystery Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Diverting entertainment...an engaging story line, an intrepid heroine…good for lovers of intrigue.”—\u003ci\u003eRichmond Times-Dispatch\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Entertaining, highly enjoyable...Lorna Barrett never fails to offer a suspenseful cozy mystery.”—Cozy Mystery Book Review\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Fans of Carolyn Hart and Denise Swanson, rejoice!...This first-rate cozy artfully blends crime, cuisine, and even bookselling in a cheerful, witty, well-plotted puzzler.”—Julia Spencer-Fleming, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThrough the Evil Days\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “A mystery bookstore in a sleepy New England town, a cat named Miss Marple, a nasty murder, and a determined heroine...delightful...everything a cozy lover could want and more. Bravo!”—Leann Sweeney, national bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Cat, the Vagabond, and the Victim\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eLorna Barrett\u003c\/b\u003e is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of the Booktown Mysteries, including \u003ci\u003ePoisoned Pages\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eA Just Clause\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eTitle Wave\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eA Fatal Chapter\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eBook Clubbed\u003c\/i\u003e. She lives in Rochester, New York.ONE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was almost four in the afternoon, but already it had been a      very long day. Too long a day, Tricia Miles decided as she shifted      from one foot to the other.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The day had started many hours before daylight, when she'd awoken      to the sounds of her cat, Miss Marple, having a hairball at the      end of her bed. She'd managed to whisk the cat off the snowy white      spread in time to save it, but that was the end of her rest.      Tricia still had so many things to accomplish before she; her      sister, Angelica; and many friends and colleagues from the      Stoneham Chamber of Commerce boarded a bus and headed for the Big      Apple.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e No doubt about it, once the holidays were over, the shops along      Stoneham's main drag might as well shut down until April, when the      tourists came back in full force. What better time for everyone to      take a much-needed vacation? At least, that was the pitch Angelica      had given the Chamber members the previous fall when Milford      Travel, a new member, had proposed the excursion. The Authors at      Sea cruise would be filled with two dozen authors and thousands of      their readers. Tricia had spent the previous six winters in      Stoneham, with very little in the way of downtime. A vacation to      the south that was dedicated to her favorite subject—reading—had      sounded heavenly, but now she felt she needed a vacation from her      vacation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The weather had held, but the bus had encountered a gigantic      traffic jam outside of Boston that had put them more than an hour      behind schedule, and so they'd had to cancel their planned      breakfast stop. Somebody had suggested they sing to pass the time.      A number of the group thought it was great fun, joining in with      gusto, but after only a few bottles of beer on the wall, Tricia      wished she hadn't packed her iPod in her suitcase and could drown      out the revelry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Lunch at the 21 Club had been a treat for most of the group, who'd      never been there before. But Chamber member Leona Ferguson, who      owned Stoneham's Stoneware, looked more than a little green during      the bus ride and hadn't had time to admire the restaurant's dishes      or have one bite of her salad before she'd made a mad dash to the      ladies' room. She'd later admitted that she'd forgotten to wear      her motion-sickness patch and made the final leg of the bus      journey hyperventilating into a paper bag—threatening to upchuck      in her seat, which had sent her seatmate scrambling and made the      bus driver in front of her break into a cold sweat. But somehow      she'd made it to the pier without being sick, and everyone's      spirits rose once more. Until they got inside the cavernous—and      very drafty—cruise terminal where most of their group were seated.      They were scheduled to board the majestic \u003ci\u003eCeltic Lady\u003c\/i\u003e at two      o'clock, but here it was nearly two hours later and the terminal      was still full.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What's going on? What's the holdup?\" grumbled a male voice behind      her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia wasn't one of the lucky ones who'd managed to grab a seat,      but at least she'd worn sensible shoes. Angelica had been standing      in three-inch heels for over two hours. Still, the smile on her      face hadn't wavered as she traveled around the group, encouraging      everyone to be patient.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I don't know how you do it,\" Tricia muttered as Angelica finished      yet another circuit around the group.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's my business face. You've got one, too. The one you use with      difficult customers.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I don't usually have forty of them at once,\" Tricia admitted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"That's true, but I cope the same way I've always coped. I smile      and imagine myself choking the life out of each and every one of      them.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Everyone?\" Tricia prompted, trying to suppress a grin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica's gaze drifted over to Antonio Barbero, who stood next to      his seated wife, Ginny, and their darling angel of a daughter,      Sofia, who was almost six months old. \"Maybe not.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica hadn't told the world at large that Antonio was her      stepson. She'd wanted to keep that little piece of information a      secret—and still did. As far as everyone but Tricia and Ginny      knew, the four of them were just very good friends and not related      by a marriage that had long ago gone south. Angelica hadn't even      spoken to that particular ex-husband in almost two decades, but      she'd kept in touch with the son he couldn't be bothered with, and      loved Antonio as if he'd been her own child. And they worked well      together on the company they'd formed a few years earlier: Nigela      Ricita Associates.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A nervous Mindy Weaver bobbed and weaved around the fringe of her      charges. The slight woman must have been in her early forties, and      while she'd worked for Milford Travel for at least a decade, this      was her first time taking charge of a tour—and it showed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Just a little bit longer,\" she called nervously over the murmur      of grumbling voices.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"These things happen,\" Chauncey Porter called out, and shrugged.      He owned the Armchair Tourist, and Mindy had enlisted his help as      her de facto mentor and helpmate on the trip.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Thanks to Angelica's business advice, Chauncey's once-failing      bookshop had done a dramatic turnaround. Where he once sold used      travel guides and maps, he'd branched out to stock sundries that      anyone taking a trip might need: from suitcase locks to personal      GPS devices, and from sunscreen to passport wallets. Chauncey got      along well with everyone—with one exception: Tricia. He blamed her      for the death of his fiancée some fourteen months before. She'd      had no part in the woman's death, but the heart had no concept of      logic. Chauncey hadn't spoken to her since that terrible night      when he'd slapped her. She could have leveled assault charges, but      had simply walked away. She missed his friendship.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We've still got a bag full of peppermints if anybody needs them,\"      Muriel Dexter called out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Keeps your breath fresh,\" her twin sister, Midge, called out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nobody took them up on their offer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The elderly spinster Dexter sisters were well known in Stoneham      for their rather quirky personalities and the fact that they'd      chat amiably to anyone they came in contact with. Somehow the idea      of individuality had never occurred to them, for despite their age      they liked to dress alike and often had \u003ci\u003efun \u003c\/i\u003eswitching identities      to fool the villagers, who found that antic anything \u003ci\u003ebut \u003c\/i\u003efun.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mary Fairchild, owner of By Hook or By Book, Stoneham's craft and      book shop, dodged her way across the open concourse, heading for      the rest of the group. She stopped in front of Tricia. \"Wow, you'd      think in a building this huge they'd have better bathroom      facilities. I had to wait in line for more than twenty minutes,\"      she said. Still, Tricia could see by the sparkle in Mary's eyes      that the ordeal had not deterred her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You've managed to stay cheerful,\" she commented.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Nothing could faze me today. This is my very first cruise,\" Mary      gushed, \"and I intend to enjoy every second of it. And now that      I'm single, I'm kind of hoping I meet someone.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mary's husband, Luke, had gone to prison for murder. The divorce      had come through only a month or so before. Mary was embarking on      a whole new life. Tricia could sure identify with that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Are you looking to get married again?\" Angelica said, leaning      into the conversation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, no. I want to have \u003ci\u003efun\u003c\/i\u003e!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica laughed. \"Well, as a four-time loser in the love      department, I can't argue with that reasoning.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm going to go sit back down. I'm sure glad Leona was saving my      seat. I don't know how you girls have stood there for such a long      time.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e You could let one of us sit for a few minutes\u003c\/i\u003e, Tricia thought, but      didn't voice it. Oh, well.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At least one other person in the crowd seemed to be having a good      time. A thin, gray-haired gentleman of about sixty sat on an      electric scooter and zoomed between the various clusters of      would-be mariners. A lot of people seemed to know him by name, and      he paused to briefly speak with them before he took off for      another circuit around the cavernous room. Tricia envied his seat,      but not the ailment that had him saddled to the motorized chair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A ripple of excitement seemed to go through the crowd, and Tricia      and Angelica turned to see a tall, beefy woman whose hair was an      alarming shade of red, stride past them in a flowing black cape,      while an older, much shorter blonde-haired woman struggled to keep      up with her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Isn't that—?\" someone said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm sure it is,\" another agreed eagerly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Whispers and nervous giggles broke out all around them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia immediately recognized the woman as thriller author EM      Barstow. The woman's reputation for being difficult preceded her.      She'd once signed at Tricia's mystery bookstore, Haven't Got a      Clue; \u003ci\u003eonce\u003c\/i\u003e being the operative word. The woman had found nothing      but fault with the store, the temperature of the coffee, the color      of ink in the pens Tricia provided, with her then assistant,      Ginny, and her other employee, Mr. Everett, as well. They were      clumsy, they were stupid. Didn't they know how to open a book so      she could quickly sign it?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia looked over her shoulder to where Mr. Everett sat with his      wife, Grace, and noted that he, too, was not enthused to see the      author, and no doubt remembered the temper tantrum the woman had      thrown when told that the cab Tricia had ordered to pick her up      would be a few minutes late. Didn't they know she was \u003ci\u003eimportant\u003c\/i\u003e?      Didn't they know she was used to a \u003ci\u003elimousine\u003c\/i\u003e, not a common cab?      Didn't they know \u003ci\u003eanything\u003c\/i\u003e?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All eyes were upon EM as she barged ahead of a line of fifty or      more passengers who'd finally been called to check in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her shorter companion finally managed to catch up, and EM seemed      to be engaged in conversation with the woman behind the check-in      desk, who shook her head and pointed to the general waiting area      to the right, which was also stuffed to overflowing with weary      travelers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Do you \u003ci\u003eknow \u003c\/i\u003ewho I am?\" EM bellowed loud enough for half the      terminal to hear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All heads turned in her direction.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Someone's not happy,\" Angelica muttered, raising a perfectly      tweezed eyebrow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia couldn't hear the cruise terminal worker's reply, but she      guessed at EM's howl of outrage that if the woman\u003ci\u003e did\u003c\/i\u003e know, she      didn't care. Unable to suppress a smile, Tricia turned away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mindy finished another circuit around the Stoneham Chamber      members.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Were you able to find out what the holdup is?\" Angelica asked      wearily.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"When the boat docked this morning, passengers were supposed to      check in with customs. It seems that four of them simply didn't.      It took the crew hours to track them down. No one could reboard      until they found them.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And where were they?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"One was in the spa. Apparently there's a deprivation tank, and      she claims she couldn't hear her name repeatedly called over the      public-address system.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And the others?\" Angelica prompted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"One had her hearing aids turned off. I'm not sure about the      others.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Does this mean they're finally going to start letting people      board? We're supposed to leave port in an hour,\" Tricia said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mindy looked across the way at the several thousand people all      waiting their turn to check in. \"Looks like we'll be a little      late,\" she said nervously.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Hey, look!\" Chauncey called out. \"They're letting the first group      go through.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sure enough, the gate had opened, and a horde of people lurched      forward, dragging their luggage. EM Barstow was \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e among them.      She took a recently vacated seat and, as her expression revealed,      fumed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It didn't take long before the Stoneham group was called, and      everyone proceeded through the gate in an orderly fashion. As head      of the Chamber, Angelica went to the back of the line, clucking      reassurances to her charges like a mother hen. Tricia hung back,      too. After all, they were sharing a stateroom; they might as well      find it together.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Once issued their identification keycards, they passed through      security, followed the stragglers, and boarded the magnificent      ship. Already the sky was black, and a brisk wind whistled around      the gangplank. \"I hope we won't have rough seas,\" Angelica      muttered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Do you get seasick?\" Tricia asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Heavens, no—I just don't want to fall off my heels.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I should think you'd be ready to take them off.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I am. But once we're settled, we're finding a nice, quiet bar. I      have earned my martini—or two—for the day.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll be happy to join you,\" Tricia agreed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A uniformed woman stood at the bank of elevators, advising      cruisers how to find their staterooms. She glanced at Angelica's      paperwork. \"You're on Deck 7.\" She signaled to a woman in a drab      black uniform. \"Will you please show these ladies to their      stateroom?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The young woman nodded and reached for Angelica's large case. \"If      you'll follow me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thank you,\" Angelica said, and smiled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They piled into the elevator with what seemed like far too many      other people and had to jump out for the first several decks until      they reached their own. A handy plaque directed them to the left.      They halted in front of a door marked 7150. The uniformed woman      stepped forward to open the door, but Angelica waved her away. \"We      can take it from here.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'd be very happy to help you unpack.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No need. Thank you very much.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The young woman nodded and backed away, then turned to leave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Shouldn't you have tipped her?\" Tricia asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How long has it been since you were on a cruise?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Years.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"She'll be handsomely tipped—it'll be included on our final,      itemized bill. We'll also tip our own butler at the end of the      trip.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We get a butler?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Just one of the perks.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica turned for the door and slipped her ID card into the      slot, and the door opened. As it did, the lights came on inside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, my,\" Tricia cried as she took in the cabin's interior.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I was ready to jump out of my skin thinking someone would spoil      my surprise,\" Angelica cried.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm surprised, all right,\" Tricia said, breathless, taking in the      opulent stateroom. No, not a stateroom at all; a suite of elegant      rooms. \"Ange, how can you afford-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Honey, I'm rich,\" she said, and somehow it didn't even seem like      she was bragging. \"I work hard. We both do. And who are we going      to leave our money to, except each other? And Antonio, Ginny, and      Sofia,\" she quickly amended. \"I'm paying for their suite, too.\"","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46299856503013,"sku":"NP9780425282717","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780425282717.jpg?v=1767742690","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/title-wave-isbn-9780425282717","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}