Bones and Roses

Bones and Roses

3.8 30
by Eileen Goudge
     
 

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An amateur sleuth attracts the right clients, the wrong boyfriends—and a kinky killer—in this cozy mystery by New York Times–bestselling author Eileen Goudge.
 
After wrecking her real estate career in a booze-fueled blowout, Cypress Bay property manager and recovering alcoholic Tish Ballard thought she had put her

Overview

An amateur sleuth attracts the right clients, the wrong boyfriends—and a kinky killer—in this cozy mystery by New York Times–bestselling author Eileen Goudge.
 
After wrecking her real estate career in a booze-fueled blowout, Cypress Bay property manager and recovering alcoholic Tish Ballard thought she had put her past behind her. But when she opens an old trunk, a bequest from an anonymous benefactor, she finds it filled with bones and roses.
 
Suddenly Tish is plunged into a murder case that dates back to her childhood. Pitted against her high school crush, homicide detective Spence Breedlove, she finds herself in jeopardy—in more ways than one.
 
Can Tish unmask a killer before the man who broke her heart puts her behind bars or, worse, she becomes a corpse herself?
 
Author Nora Roberts raves that Eileen Goudge “writes like a house on fire”—and with Bones and Roses, the first book in the Cypress Bay Mysteries, the New York Times–bestselling author of Garden of Lies delivers a suspenseful plot, memorable characters, and delectable touches of romance.
 
Bones and Rosesis the 1st book in the Cypress Bay Mysteries, but you may enjoy reading the series in any order.

 
 

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
“Catches the reader in a strong undertow of a plot. Before you know it, you’re being drawn in, out, and under. Expect to become immersed with the indomitable heroine, Tish Ballard, the cast of colorful secondary characters, and Eileen Goudge’s trademark storytelling.” —Sandra Brown, New York Times–bestselling author
 
“A sophisticated, cleverly crafted mystery with complex, intricately drawn characters who rarely behave in the way you expect. I never saw the ending coming.” —Donna Ball, author of the Raine Stockton Dog Mysteries
 
Praise for Eileen Goudge
“Eileen Goudge writes like a house on fire, creating characters you come to love and hate to leave.” —Nora Roberts, New York Times–bestselling author
 
“Eileen Goudge . . . is wise in the ways of the human heart.” —Kristin Hannah, New York Times–bestselling author
 
Eileen Goudge is one of the nation’s most successful authors of women’s fiction. She has published fifteen novels, including New York Times bestseller Gardens of Lies, Thorns of Truth, and The Replacement Wife. She lives and works in New York City.
 

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9781504035538
Publisher:
Open Road Integrated Media LLC
Publication date:
05/24/2016
Series:
Cypress Bay Mysteries Series
Pages:
248
Sales rank:
165,759
Product dimensions:
5.25(w) x 8.00(h) x (d)

Read an Excerpt

Bones and Roses

A Cypress Bay Mystery


By Eileen Goudge

OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA

Copyright © 2014 Eileen Goudge
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5040-3552-1


CHAPTER 1

"Since when is stealing dead bugs a crime?"

Officer James is smirking as he says this. Like he can already see himself recounting the incident over a round of beers at the Tide's Inn for the amusement of his buddies. I want to smack him. But I can't because he's a cop and the last time I took a swing at a cop it didn't end well. That was before I got sober, three and a half years ago, when my definition of a marathon wasn't the kind that had you powering to the finish line with a number on your chest, shrink-wrapped in Lycra and dripping sweat. Mine had me chasing shots as opposed to other runners, while being egged on by fellow bar patrons. Suffice it to say, I was lucky I didn't spend the night behind bars.

But that was then and this is now. The current situation involves the theft of a valuable collectible by a shoplifter and not the loss of my alleged virtue at the hands of a guy who thought I'd be too drunk to notice him grabbing my ass. We're at the Gilded Lily, the shop in downtown Cypress Bay that sells decorative items and high-end household goods, where my best friend, Ivy, works part-time and sells her artwork on commission. One of her pieces was stolen, and Officer Friendly here is doing little to convince me "the long arm of the law" isn't just a figure of speech.

Ivy draws herself up to look him in the eye, which takes some doing as she stands scarcely higher than his shoulder at five foot two. "You think the theft of valuable artwork is funny?" Atta girl.

He's unrepentant. "Pardon me for saying so, but this ain't exactly the Louvre." He pronounces it "louver" as in "shutters." He glances around at the displays — everything from table linens embroidered by French nuns and glassware hand-blown by local artisans to vintage items, like the Victorian brass birdcage and Art Deco martini shaker — with pointedly raised eyebrows. Jerk. Okay, so the Gilded Lily's wares aren't museum quality, but they're carefully curated nonetheless, by the owner, Parker Lane, the only gay man I know who prefers clutter to clean lines.

"Seriously, you call this art?" His beady-eyed gaze settles on one of Ivy's dioramas and he leans in to take a closer look. The piece happens to be one of my favorites: green-backed beetles — from an honest-to-God insect emporium, in LA, where Ivy buys her preserved bugs — picnicking in the park. The "wicker" basket is fashioned from toothpicks, the blanket from a checkered cloth napkin; the greenery is so natural-looking it looks real at a glance. All of it contained on a pedestal, under a glass dome, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. Part of a grouping, it sits between dioramas of a cricket jazz quartet and a bespectacled caterpillar peering at an optometrist's eye chart.

Ivy's aquamarine eyes flash and I jump in with, "Good question. And one I'm sure the artist would be happy to answer." I gesture toward Ivy. He has the decency to blush, and do I detect a hint of a smile on the face of his female partner? An attractive dark-haired woman in her twenties, Officer Ruiz appears to be taking pleasure in seeing him squirm.

"Well, are you going to just stand there or are you going to fill out a report?" Ivy demands of Officer James. Her cheeks are flushed and her shoulder-length raven curls make me think of a thunderstorm brewing. "Honestly, what if it was a dead body!"

This prompts him into finally flipping open his notepad. He looks to be in his mid-thirties, the same age as Ivy and me, with police-issue brown hair, a mustache, and acne scars on his cheeks that give him a certain rugged appeal. From the neck down he's Barney Rubble: on the tubby side with rolls of fat slopping over his belt that speak of frequent Dunkin' Donuts runs. He also looks familiar — our paths must've crossed at some point, which tends to happen when you've lived in the same community your entire life. Except for the four years I was at San Diego State I've resided in the Northern California seaside town I call home since I first had my butt smacked, in the delivery room at Cypress Bay Community. Down the street from the Catholic church where I attended Mass when I was growing up and where these days I attend AA meetings.

"Can you describe this individual?" Officer James inquires, all officious-like.

"Mid-forties, medium height, dark brown hair, blue eyes. Kind of heavyset, though I wouldn't call him fat." Ivy describes the man she suspects of having made off with her diorama of ladybugs frolicking on the beach. "He was wearing tan slacks, Merrells, and a light blue O'Neil T-shirt."

Officer James whistles, impressed. "Sounds like you got a good look at him."

"He went out of his way to chat me up," she explains.

"I'll bet." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Suddenly I remember where I know him from. He was in Ivy's and my class at Harbor High. Jordan James. I'd have recognized him sooner if not for the mustache and fifty pounds he's gained since then. It was Jordan who pulled that cruel prank on Rachel Shuck, asking her to the junior prom so she'd be humiliated when he stood her up. I had overheard him laughing about it with his buddies at the prom, saying stuff like, "I should've made it a bucket of pig's blood."

I'd been having a crappy evening to begin with — my own date, Adam Ricci, was in the john puking up his guts from the vodka we'd spiked our punch with (amateurs are such wusses) — and this had really gotten me riled. So I'd come up with a plan to teach Jordan a lesson. Armed with my Kodak Instamatic, which I'd brought to take candid shots of the prom for the yearbook (I was on the committee), I'd then enlisted the help of my friend Evan McDougal, the "Carson Kressley" of Harbor High, who was out and proud, sporting guyliner and sequined high-tops before it was socially acceptable. The photo of Evan planting a big wet one on a surprised-looking Jordan became an instant classic when it appeared in the yearbook on the "Most Memorable Couples" page.

"Hey, didn't we go to school together?" I say to him now, a big, fake smile on my face.

"Yeah, come to think of it, you look kinda familiar." He gives me a funny look, like maybe he suspects I was behind his most humiliating moment in high school. Or maybe it's because of what happened with Spence Breedlove later on that year when I was the talk of our junior class. "Her I remember." Her jerks his head toward my best friend. How could he not? Ivy was a standout then as she is now: a Scarlett O'Hara doll from Franklin Mint with the soul of a rocker chick who liked it loud and fast, whether it was partying, cars, or boys. "Didn't you two used to hang out?"

I nod and stick out my hand. "Tish Ballard." My full name is Leticia, but everyone calls me Tish. (My parents, in naming me after my grandmother — thus dooming me to a lifetime of grief, from teasing in school to being hounded by telemarketers who've mistaken me for an old lady these days — at least knew better than to compound their error with the nickname Letty.) I drop my gaze to his ring finger as we shake hands. "You're married, I see. Good for you. Commitment ceremony or did you make it legal?" I also make a point of mentioning I voted for Proposition Eight.

He flushes bright red at the implication. "I'm not gay," he chokes out after he's regained the ability to speak. "I'm married to Teresa. Teresa Winkler." He names another former classmate of ours; they were a couple senior year — it's coming back to me now. "We have three kids," he adds, lest there be any doubt about his virility, deepening his voice and puffing out his chest.

"Oh. I see. I just assumed ..."

Ivy flashes me a grin behind his back. She looks like a demented revolutionary dressed in a ruffled pink skirt, flip-flops with big sparkly daisies on them, and a black Che Guevara T-shirt. Heaps of silver necklaces and bracelets, from her jewelry-making phase, adorn her slender wrists and throat.

Not until they're headed out does Officer Ruiz break rank. She slows her steps to let Jordan get ahead of her, then pauses to murmur to Ivy, "Don't mind him. I love your ... whatever they are. They're beautiful." She studies the diorama of grasshoppers sipping tea from miniature cups around a "wrought-iron" table fashioned from wires. "Strange but beautiful."

Parker Lane blows in minutes later, dapper as ever in a Colonel Sanders suit and striped pink shirt, his thick, wavy mane, the yellowing ivory of old piano keys, blown about as if he dashed here on foot. He hugs Ivy so hard you'd have thought she was the victim of a mugging. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" Parker was born and raised in Huntsville, Alabama, his accent so pronounced his mellifluous baritone, if it were a tree, would be dripping with Spanish moss.

Ivy makes light of it, to spare him further grief. "Who, the cop or the robber? Don't worry," she assures him. "I wasn't held at gunpoint. And my virtue is still intact. Mostly," she adds with a wicked grin.

We leave him to flutter around the shop like an agitated magpie putting its disturbed nest to rights, and head out to grab a bite to eat for lunch. You'd never guess, from the way Parker carries on, that he doesn't depend on his income from the Gilded Lily. In fact he's independently wealthy and lives with his partner of fifty-odd years, Desmond, in a spectacular oceanfront home that has every realtor in town salivating, awaiting the day when one or both of them dies off and it goes on the market. Before I traded my dress shoes for sneakers and went into business for myself, I think I was the only real estate broker in town who didn't covet the listing. I could never want someone else's loss to be my gain. I know what it is to experience a devastating loss — when I was eleven, my mom ran off with her lover, never to be seen or heard from again — and it's not something I'd wish on my worst enemy. It left me damaged. It made me who I am today: a person you wouldn't have wanted to encounter after I'd had too many vodka martinis. There's something inside of me that, when let loose, can be like that one kid at a birthday party who ruins it for everyone. Drunk, I was a human wrecking ball. Sober, I'm nicer but never more than one step from blowing it, for myself or someone else, with a mouthy remark or raised middle finger. I don't take well to being told what to do and I don't bow to authority figures.

"I'm starved," Ivy announces as we make our way up the street to the Bluejay Café, where it's the tail end of the lunch hour.

"Nothing like a police incident for working up an appetite," I tease. The truth is, she's always starved. I read that on average a bird consumes half its weight in food per day; if that's true then it's fair to say Ivy eats like a bird. Where she puts it is anyone's guess — she's a size zero petite and living proof that life isn't fair. At five feet, nine inches and a hundred fifty pounds, I'm the opposite of dainty and have the metabolism of a three-toed sloth. It's a constant battle to keep my weight in check. Fortunately I have a job that keeps me perpetually on the move.

I'm proprietor and sole employee of Rest Easy Property Management, the business I launched three and a half years ago, after I flamed out as a broker in a blaze of ingloriousness. I look after other people's vacation homes. I see to upkeep and repairs. I supervise domestics and maintenance people. I make sure the homes that double as vacation rentals don't get trashed by college kids on spring break. I'm also the soul of discretion. If you're cheating on your spouse, your secret is safe with me. I'll even go the extra mile, like when I replaced the previously unopened box of tampons in the master bath at the Stones' after Mr. Stone's romantic tryst with his mistress. Who but me would have thought to do so? It comes from being no stranger to secrets myself.

"In a weird way it's a compliment." Ivy waxes philosophic over lunch. "I mean the guy must really have wanted it. I don't imagine there's much of a black market for stolen insect dioramas."

"Whatever, it still pisses me off that he's getting away with it." Many hours of painstaking work go into each of Ivy's pieces. It's not fair she should be out the commission.

"Yeah, well, what can you do?" She sighs in resignation. "It's not like the cops are going to put out an APB. They won't lift a finger. Especially not after you insulted Jordan's manhood. Totally worth it, by the way," she adds with a giggle. "The look on his face? Oh my God, priceless."

I shrug. "Nothing wrong with being gay."

"Tell him that."

Our waitress arrives with the sandwiches we ordered — the turkey club for Ivy, avocado-and-hummus on whole-wheat for me. (I'm doing penance for the party leftovers — an assortment of finger sandwiches, crab puffs, bite-sized mushroom quiches, and petit fours — I was given by clients of mine, the Willetts.) The dense fog of morning has burned off, giving way to sunny skies that has every outdoor table at the Bluejay filled. Housed in what was once a cottage — the orphan child of the Painted Ladies that line the block — it's a favorite of locals and tourists alike, always packed even during non-peak hours. We were lucky to snag a table on the patio, under the grape arbor that forms a leafy canopy at one end. I bask in the warmth from the dappled sunlight.

Mark Twain is quoted as having once said the coldest winter he ever knew was the summer he spent in San Francisco. The same could be said of Cypress Bay, a two-hour drive down the coast. This time of year the fog rolls in every morning like the tide, usually not burning off until midday. When I left my house at 6:30 a.m. to go to work, it was chilly and gray. Now it's warm enough for me to have peeled off the sweatshirt and Henley shirt I'd been wearing over my tank top.

"How was the meeting last night?" Ivy changes the subject. She means the AA meeting I attended. When I was newly sober, I used to go to one a day, but nowadays I go to one a week. That I felt the need for more than my regular Thursday night meeting this week is clearly cause for concern. I could tell from her overly casual tone.

"Good." I don't elaborate. What goes on in the "rooms" stays in the rooms. Ivy is well aware of this; that's not why she was asking. She's worried I'll fall off the wagon.

"You didn't return my call."

I extract a clump of sprouts from my sandwich before taking a bite. You'd think Cypress Bay was the birthplace of the alfalfa sprout from its prevalence in these parts — it's the kudzu of crunchy land. I'd be happy if I never saw another sprout. "Yeah, it was too late by the time I got your message."

"I thought the meeting got out at nine."

"I went out afterwards with some friends," I lie.

"Really. Is that why all the lights were on at your house?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "What, so now you're spying on me?"

"I was checking up on you. That's not the same as spying. I was worried, okay? I thought something had happened to you." I can't say I blame her, after what I put her through during my Lost Weekend years. She was the first person to whom I made amends after I got sober.

"I'm perfectly fine as you can see." I spread my arms to show I have nothing to hide — as in no bruises from having fallen down while in a drunken stupor, no bandages from having slit my wrists.

Ivy says nothing.

I munch on my sandwich as if I hadn't a care in the world, swallowing what's in my mouth before delivering another whopper. "Today is just another day as far as I'm concerned."

She returns her sandwich to her plate and pushes her aviator sunglasses onto her head to look me in the eye. "It's no use, Tish. I've known you since we were in sixth grade. You can't fool me."

I shrug. "It's been twenty-five years. Believe me, I'm over it."

"No, you're not," she insists. "You're only saying that so I'll shut up. But this isn't one of those fake-it-till-you-make-it things." I hate it when she does that, quotes AA scripture she learned from me.

"What do you want from me? Do you expect me to moan and wail?"


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Bones and Roses by Eileen Goudge. Copyright © 2014 Eileen Goudge. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Meet the Author

Eileen Goudgeis one of the nation’s most successful authors of women’s fiction. She began as a young adult writer, helping to launch the phenomenally successful Sweet Valley High series, and in 1986 she published her first adult novel, theNew York TimesbestsellerGarden of Lies.

Aimee Bruneau is a 2010 Audies Finalist and an actor, director, professor and student of theater. She earned her MFA in Acting from the American Conservatory Theater. Aimee has been telling tales in Seattle, Washington, for more than a decade. Additionally, she has worked for theaters in Chicago, San Francisco, Savannah, and in southern France.

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Bones and Roses 3.8 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 30 reviews.
Mallory_SupernaturalFan More than 1 year ago
I confess that this is my first novel by Eileen Goudge, but BONES AND ROSES (read in one afternoon-evening) hooked me immediately. This is an unexpected, but fascinating, interweaving of cozy mystery with serious backdrop. Protagonist Tish Ballard is " anti-hero": a recovering (= currently non-drinking) alcoholic, former real estate broker,  now owner of a property management business; dragging on in a relationship not right for either partner, grieving her mother's abandonment 25 years earlier, and caring for her schizophrenic brother. There's so much to love about this novel, so many plot convolutions; and unlike many cozies, when the author lifts the curtain, that's not the Wizard we see, but ugly reality--past and present.   I reviewed an ARC provided by the publisher via NetGalley for the sole purpose of my fair and honest review. No fees were exchanged.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I just finished "Bones and Roses" and really enjoyed the read. Often, when reading a mystery, I figure out the end way before it happens. This time, I had no idea, no matter how hard I guessed, as to the actual culprit in the story. Congratulations, to Eileen Goudge, on keeping me (and I imagine many, many others) guessing. Her treatment of Arthur is so touching and delicate. Mental illness is so often misunderstood and not recognized for the heart-breaking illness that it is, both for the individual and the immediate family that has to deal with the illness. Readers will benefit, tremendously, from her teaching on the subject. All of the characters were beautifully painted. The art of describing characters so that the reader gets to know them and can see them clearly is a talent that Eileen has mastered to perfection. As well, the vivid descriptions of the surroundings gave me a very clear picture of where the action takes place. I'm looking forward, with great anticipation, to the next book in the Cypress Bay series. Thanks so much for a great read.
quaintinns More than 1 year ago
A special thank you to INscribe Digital and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Eileen Goudge is back, stronger than ever with BONES AND ROSES, the first book in her exciting new Cypress Bay Mysteries series. Filled with lovable characters, razor sharp humor, and tons of drama for a page-turner mystery charmer! In Northern California and the seaside town of Cypress Bay, readers meet the vacation rental queen, Leticia “Tish” Ballard, the former real estate broker, and recovering alcoholic, presently the owner of her own company, Rest Easy Property Management. She gave up the suits, and hectic life of real estate sales for flip flops and a more laid back lifestyle, where she takes care of the owner’s homes and prepares them for the guest arrival. Currently, Tish is dating Daniel (comfortable, not sizzling), enjoys spending time with her BFF Ivy, and taking care of her very high IQ troubled adult brother, Arthur (he is a riot). However, her head begins spinning when she is left with a storage unit with a mysterious trunk filled with skeletal remains and opens up a past, and a crime (s), never solved. Of course, while she puts herself front and center of the investigation, she has to come face to face with her old high school sweetheart, and lead detective, Spence, plus a number of other eccentric characters as she races to find the real killer as her life is on the line—keeping you guessing until the end with a nice twist. As usual, Goudge is a master at character development, and storytelling, with obstacles coming in every direction for an engaging and satisfying read. I was blown away by the inspiration for the book and the events taking place in the author’s own life at the time of writing. Wow, what can I say, I fell in love with author, Eileen Goudge years ago, and have been a faithful follower since. I will never forgot the day I purchased the Woman in Red, in Florida, which was my first book by Eileen. Something about the front cover was so intriguing—it pulled me in and was hooked. Immediately afterward, started Garden of Liesand worked my way up the list. After reading eighteen of her books, you could say I am a fan, and was delighted to receive an ARC of Bones and Roses. I loved it! In addition to being a talented writer, Eileen is genuine, and speaks from the heart. She uses her tragedies and turns them into something wonderful. If you have ever communicated with Eileen via email, or Goodreads, via her blog, or read her postings, you will come to know a special and unique person. I speak for all the fans and readers out there – Thank you for being you! You are an inspiration and your words come alive on the page, with stories to warm hearts, and characters to remember, long after the book ends. I loved Tish, Bradley and Arthur, and especially the vacation rental real estate storyline, as I have managed real estate, vacation rentals, cottages, hotels, and B&B inns for years, and there is always something exciting going on, and life is never dull! Cannot wait to read the second book in the Cypress Bay Series: SWIMSUIT BODY, (3/1/15)! If you are new to Eileen Goudge books, you are in for a treat! I would highly recommend all her books, and visiting her website to learn more about this extraordinary author!
druidgirl More than 1 year ago
Things go well for Tish who is a real estate manager for the wealthy. She also takes care of her mentally challenged brother while trying not to fall off the wagon. All is well until she receives a ;large box and opens it only to find her mother's body who she thought just left them when they were young. She now begins to investigate and eventually finds all the answers she seeks. ***I received this book in exchange for an honest review***
InspirationalAngel531 9 months ago
Title: Bone and Roses - Cypress Bay Mystery 1 Author: Eileen Goudge Published: 5-24-16 Publisher: Open Road Media Pages: 249 Genre: Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense Sub Genre: Women Sleuths; Cozy Mystery ISBN: 978154035521 ASIN: B01DN759CK Reviewer: DelAnne Reviewed For: NetGalley Rating: 5 Stars . Letisha Ballard drank her high powered Real Estate broker career. When she reached the rocks t the bottom of her glass she sobered up, Cleared out her high powered suits for jeans and cotton tops, her Pradas for Keds and opened Rest Easy Property Management in the beautiful laid back town of Cypress Bay. Instead of selling property she now works as caretaker for multiple client's properties. When an anonymous donor leaves Tish a package in a storage locker she discovers the bones from an old murder along with some dead roses. Then she finds the mystery of the bones and roses to her and her brother. Tish jumps in to finding answers and finding answers to the questions that have haunted her for years. The question is can she stay ahead of the killer to discover the answers before a killer puts her in a box with roses next. Eileen Goudge has given readers a new mystery with believable characters strengths that shows the flaws as well. Cypress Bay is a town with the normal small town feel and secrets hidden beneath the surface but known by many. Goudge's plot is well thought out and meant to be enjoyed by all types of mystery lovers. The story flows easily with clues hidden along the way if you want to help Tish solve the murder. Can you uncover the killer before her our will Goudge keep you guessing until the end? My rating is 5 out of 5 stars. A great beginning to a new series to your favorite series list.
giftedteacher1 10 months ago
This book cast a spell from the very first page. I loved every bit of it! I received an advance review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Anonymous 10 months ago
Very interesting...read this in 2 days. Yep one of those you can't put down. Good mystery...had me fooled. Writing for next adventure.
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Mustread-gal More than 1 year ago
for her 1st foray into mystery writing this was pretty good...Loved the unusual characters and they had real life problems...It kept me guessing as to who the "killer" was and an unusual motive.....
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
It was a fun read but not as good as her other books. But it was worth reading.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
ginabe1 More than 1 year ago
Good read, and character development. Will look for more by this author.
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I would have given this book a 4-star rating if it had not been filled with taking God’s name in vain, making irreverent jokes, and laced liberally with F-words. Even after one reader had to reveal an intricate part of the story it is stilled filled with twists and turns right up until the last couple of chapters when everything comes to light. Bones and Roses is about a woman who was on a self-destructive path during high school but now has become sober and has turned her life around by becoming a responsible property manager. Suddenly she inherits something only to find it now sets her on a dangerous journey. One which almost cost her, her life.
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cruisinbarb More than 1 year ago
So very glad to find this new book by one of my very favorite authors.......I've been waiting for her to write another book; now looking forward to the next one in this series. Her GARDEN of LIES and THORNS of TRUTH were two of the best books ever......so glad she's back!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great twists and turns
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Good characters and plotting but too wordy. Leave some loose ends for next book....i will read that.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This was my first and probably last Goudge book I will read. Her writing style consists of clichés and stilted dialogue. I'll give her the benefit of a doubt that the plot was a good mystery. But her writing style, dialogue, minor characters were all clichés.