Murder on a Bad Hair Day (Southern Sisters Series #2) by Anne George, Paperback | Barnes & Noble
Murder on a Bad Hair Day (Southern Sisters Series #2)

Murder on a Bad Hair Day (Southern Sisters Series #2)

4.4 18
by Anne George
     
 

View All Available Formats & Editions

Murder on a Bad Hair Day

It's hard to believe practical, petite ex-schoolteacher Patricia Anne and amiable, ample-bodied, and outrageous Mary Alice are sisters, yet sibling rivalry has survived decades of good-natured disagreement about everything from husbands to hair color. No sooner do the Southern sisters discover a common interest in some

Overview

Murder on a Bad Hair Day

It's hard to believe practical, petite ex-schoolteacher Patricia Anne and amiable, ample-bodied, and outrageous Mary Alice are sisters, yet sibling rivalry has survived decades of good-natured disagreement about everything from husbands to hair color. No sooner do the Southern sisters discover a common interest in some local art, when they're arguing the artistic merits of some well-coiffured heads at a gallery opening. A few hours later, one of those pretty ladies ends up dead — with not a hair out of place. The other shows up on Patricia Anne's doorstep dazed, disheveled, and telling a wild tale of a narrow escape from some deadly cuts. Now the sisters are once again combing for clues to catch a killer with a bizarre style in art — and murder.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780380780877
Publisher:
HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
02/28/2001
Series:
Southern Sisters Series, #2
Pages:
256
Sales rank:
144,549
Product dimensions:
4.18(w) x 6.75(h) x 0.64(d)

Read an Excerpt

Murder on a Bad Hair Day
A Southern Sisters Mystery

Chapter One

"I tell you, Patricia Anne, I'm sick and tired of always being some man's sex slave." Mary Alice shut the kitchen door firmly and headed for the stove. "Is this fresh coffee?"

I looked up from the morning paper and nodded. I also grinned. My sister is sixty-five years old, six feet tall, and admits to weighing two hundred fifty pounds. The idea of her as a sex slave is mind-boggling.

"You look like a jackass eating briars," she said. "But I'm telling you the truth." She got a cup from the cabinet, poured her coffee, and helped herself to a muffin from a plate on the counter. "What kind are these?"

"Blueberry."

She took a second one and came to the table in the bay window where I was reading the paper and having a second cup of coffee. "What are you doing?"

"Reading Omar Sharif's bridge column."

"Oh, God, I love that man. Those daffodils!"

"I know." For a moment it was not December in Birmingham, Alabama, but springtime in Russia with "Lara's Theme" soaring. "How many times have you seen Dr. Zhivago?" I asked.

Mary Alice took a bite of blueberry muffin. "Maybe twenty. I still keep hoping they'll get back together."

"But they did in a way."

"Don't be ridiculous. He dies every time. Splat. Right there in the street." She took another bite of muffin. "You know, being his sex slave wouldn't be so bad. Unless he plays bridge all the time."

I folded the paper. "Why don't you pull off your coat? And what is this sex slave bit?"

I 'I'm just staying a minute. And it's what all of us women are. You. Me. Working our buttsoff to please some man."

I could have pointed out that my husband, Fred, was at work while I was sitting in the kitchen in my bathrobe reading the paper, but I decided not to push my luck.

"We iron their clothes, cook their food, mop their floors, and do God knows what just to please diem."

"Sister," I said, "I think a sex slave is used sexually."

"That, too," she said.

I decided not to pursue this line of conversation. "You want some more coffee?" I asked.

Mary Alice shook her head no. "Mouse," she said, using her old childhood nickname for me, "I want to show you something, but you have to promise not to laugh."

"Sure," I agreed.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

She stood up and unbuttoned her coat but still clutched it around her. "Swear."

"I told you I wouldn't laugh-"

She pulled her coat off and all promises were off; I laughed like hell. Mary Alice was Mrs. Santa Claus, complete with a short red skirt, red leggings, and a white knit shirt decorated with the words "Mrs. Santa" that flashed sporadically with lights that apparently were beyond Sister's power to control.

"I knew you would laugh," she said morosely. "There's a wig that goes with it, though." She reached into the pocket of her coat, brought out what looked like a dead white poodle, and placed it over her own short pinkish hair. "You think anyone will recognize me?"

"Oh, Lord," I laughed. "I have to go to the bathroom."Well, maybe they won't," she called as I rushed down the. hall.

When I got back to the kitchen, she had her coat on again and, except for an occasional giggle, I was in control. "What's this about?" I asked.

"Bill's got a job as Santa Claus down at the Rosedale Mall. They wanted a couple. It's supposed to keep the kids from being so scared." Mazy Alice shrugged. "See? I told you I was a sex slave."

Seventy-two-year-old Bill Adams is Sister's current "boyfriend." He has lasted for several months, probably because he can dip her when they dance. Or at least that's what Fred and I thought. There just might be more to the relationship if she was willing to go along with him on this.

"Rosedale Mall's on the other side of town," I assured her. "You won't see a soul you know. Besides, what does it matter? You're being a good sport."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Just think of all the kids you'll make happy."

"That's true." Mary Alice looked at her watch. "I've got to go. I just wanted to remind you of the gallery opening tonight. It's from five until eight, drop in, and I won't get off work until six, so I won't pick you up until seven. Okay?"

"Why don't I meet you there?"

"The way you drive? Don't be silly. And wear that sweater I gave you last Christmas, the off-white with the pearls on it."

"And which skirt should I wear?" Mary Alice is immune to sarcasm, which can be both a blessing and a curse for a sister.

"The off-white, of course. And for goodness sakes don't wear those shoes you bought that are supposed to be 'winter white.' I can't believe you were suckered like that."

"One every minute," I said, grinning again.

"I'll see you at seven." Mrs. Claus picked up another muffin on her way out.

"See you." Sooner than she thought. I had a date for lunch at the Rosedale Mall.

As soon as Omar Sharif made his impossible six no-trump bid, I threw on some sweats and went out to take my old Woofer for his walk. It was a beautiful morning, crisp but not cold, and though it was just three weeks until Christmas, a few pink geraniums still bloomed in the containers on the deck. Woofer was sleeping late. The year before, I had paid a fortune for an insulated doghouse that looked like an igloo, but it had been money well spent. The problem was getting Woofer out of it...

Murder on a Bad Hair Day
A Southern Sisters Mystery
. Copyright © by Anne George. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

What People are saying about this

Jill Churchill
Truly delightful, laugh-out-loud fun!

Meet the Author

Anne George (c.____ - 2001) was the Agatha Award-winning author of the Southern Sisters mystery series which culminate in Murder Boogies with Elvis, publishing in August 2001. Like Patricia Anne, she was a happily married former school teacher living in Birmingham, Alabama. Ms. George was also a former Alabama State Poet and a regular contributor to literary publications. During her lifetime she was nominated for several awards, including the Pulitzer. Being a true lady of the Old South, her date of birth will forever be a mystery.

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Write a Review

and post it to your social network

     

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews >

Murder on a Bad Hair Day (Southern Sisters Series #2) 4.4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 18 reviews.
3amigos More than 1 year ago
Enjoyed this series very much. A fun read. Sorry that Ms. George died - we lost a talented writer.
Pmopals More than 1 year ago
Love this series. Humor, mystery, lots of family history to explore in the story line. Wish author was still with us to continue the humor of these lasdies. A definite yes to the sisters and their crew!
tdpw More than 1 year ago
A fun read all the way around
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The book was a good read and I intend to read all the others. Very good .
fostertam2 More than 1 year ago
This is such a fun series to read. I recommend you start with the first one and listen to them in sequence. You could read the books and they are great, but the narrator for this series really brings these ladies to life. If you are a southerner, you will really get a kick out of them. I don't know how many times I laughed out loud. These two sisters couldn't be anymore different--the petite, soft-spoken Patricia Anne and her big larger than life, multiply widowed, sister, Mary Alice find themselves in the middle of a murder mystery.A beautiful former student of Patricia Anne's shows up on her doorstep following the "murder by mousse" of an ill-liked gallery owner. More murders follow and Patricia Anne and Mary Alice along with Detective Bo Peep work to solve the crimes. Hilarious!!!!!
Guest More than 1 year ago
You'll get hooked on the Southern Sisters.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I have read every single book by this author and I have truly enjoyed them! RIP Anne George wish there were more to be released!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago