Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes

by Dixie Cash Narrated by Peggity Price

Overview

In this rollicking tale, best-selling author Dixie Cash-author of My Heart May Be Broken but My Hair Still Looks Great-sets Salt Lick's own sleuthing cosmetologists on a collision course with the Big Apple. On an all-expenses-paid trip to a New York PI convention, the Texas Tornadoes hope to do some serious shopping. But that's before they stumble across a serial killer.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

The Domestic Equalizers take on Manhattan in Cash's latest big hair blitz. Edwina Perkins-Martin and Debbie Sue Overstreet run a beauty salon and the only PI agency in Salt Lick, Tex. The invitation to speak at the annual conference of the NAPI (National Association of Private Investigators) comes as a surprise, but Edwina and Debbie Sue accept since the NAPI's going to pop for the expenses and pony up an honorarium. Meanwhile in Dime Box, Tex., Celina Phillips dreams of becoming a PI and also decides to attend. The three meet and the rest is cornpone kismet when a crime occurs right next to their hotel room, and Celina falls for a sexy NYPD detective. Cash (pseudonym for a sister writing team) crams her latest caper with such wackiness that the contrived plot can almost be excused, but Edwina and Debbie Sue are often so silly that they're downright annoying. (May)

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From the Publisher

Quick witted, fast paced, and plain old fun, Cash’s madcap series just keeps getting better.” — Booklist

Booklist

Quick witted, fast paced, and plain old fun, Cash’s madcap series just keeps getting better.

Booklist

Quick witted, fast paced, and plain old fun, Cash’s madcap series just keeps getting better.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940170369898
Publisher:	Recorded Books, LLC
Publication date:	04/10/2009
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes

Chapter One

Manhattan, July 2006

He stuffed his shirt into his pants, zipped up and looked one last time into the mirror. The bathroom lighting was hardly flattering, but he didn't care. He hadn't come here to impress.

He opened the door leading to the bedroom and watched the prostitute slide her cell phone into her purse, pull out a tissue and blot the red color from her lips. He hated that greasy red shit and he had told her he wouldn't tolerate lipstick stains on his clothing or anything else.

He approached her from behind, wrapped his arms around her and jerked her body against his. His hands were large. They encircled her throat with ease. Her eyes displayed a flash of panic and a thrill rushed through him. Her head turned toward him, a questioning look on her face.

He grabbed her by the hair and threw her onto the bed. She screamed, but then he was on her, straddling her andmuffling her sounds with his hand. She kicked and bit, was stronger than she looked. Before she could do more damage, he went for her throat and crushed the sound from her.

Seconds later she ceased to struggle, but he didn't let go. He knew she had only lost consciousness. It would take several minutes for her to lose life. Thank God he was strong.

Meanwhile, in a brownstone several blocks away, the prostitute's only friend received a text message sent fifteen minutes earlier from the familiar cell phone number.

B home soon. No prob. He's a cop.

Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes. Copyright © by Dixie Cash. Reprinted bypermission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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