“Who?”
“Now who do you think? Agnes Twitt, Alfred Saddlebury, Chester Mason, Sasha Yakodowsky, and Benjamin Franks!”
There was no laughter, no jocularity but there were wet eyes as the funny paper cups were raised high in the air. Instead, Dennis said simply:
“Rest in peace.”
Be sure not to miss Fern Michaels’s bestselling Godmothers series, including
CLASSIFIED
A LIFE FILLED WITH RICHES
The riches that mean most to Teresa “Toots”
Loudenberry are the loving friends and family
she’s accumulated over the course of a life
well lived. And now that her daughter, Abby,
has married her beau Chris and settled down
near Toots in Charleston, life is even more sat-
isfying than the delicious pralines sold at
Toots’s bakery, The Sweetest Thing.
Abby isn’t the only one enjoying a little
romance. Toots’s friendship with Dr. Phil
Becker has grown unexpectedly close . . . and
that brings both joy and complications. As a
distraction, Toots throws herself into helping
Abby and Chris open an animal rescue shelter
on their estate. But life takes a serious turn
when two young children disappear after
visiting The Sweetest Thing. Toots
immediately enlists Ida, Sophie, and Mavis to
help in the search. As they draw closer to the
culprits, they realize the stakes are much
higher than they ever could have imagined . . .
A Kensington trade paperback and
eBook on sale in August 2018.
Keep reading for a special look!
“Simpson . . . No, I meant Clay,” Abby said more to herself than to the FedEx guy who waited as she signed for the delivery. He raised his brow in question.
“I’m recently married,” she explained. Well, not that recently. They’d just celebrated their first wedding anniversary last month.
“Congratulations,” the FedEx guy said before taking his computerized clipboard from her before jogging back to his delivery truck.
Must have a lot of deliveries, Abby thought as she struggled to drag the large box inside the front corridor of her new digs, though one could hardly call this twelve-thousand-square-foot mansion “digs.” The old plantation home had been in Chris’s family for over two hundred years. Her mother had lived here briefly when she was married to Garland, Chris’s father, who was her mother’s fourth husband, Abby believed, but she hardly remembered the plantation. She’d been in her first year of high school when they had moved here and had spent more time hanging out with her girlfriends than she had at home. Garland Clay hadn’t lived very long after marrying her mother—poor old soul—but he’d been a kind and decent stepfather. Her mother said that he was her second favorite out of her eight husbands—the first, of course, being Abby’s father, John Simpson. Abby didn’t really have too many memories of him. He’d been killed in a car crash when she was five. Her mom had hired Bernice as an assistant/housekeeper/ baby-sitter, and later the two women had become the best of friends. They’d moved from New Jersey to Charleston. Abby had spent most of her life in the South, save for the few years she’d spent living in Los Angeles. She still had her little ranch house in Brentwood, though she’d recently rented it out to a young couple who’d just had a baby. A little boy, if her memory served her right.
Her life had been running at maximum velocity since she and Chris married last April. After being kidnapped by Rag, Rodwell Archibald Godfrey, the former owner of, and her boss at, The Informer, Abby’s passion for tabloid news had fizzled like stale ginger ale when she became the news herself. Though she still had a hand in the inner workings of the paper, Abby’s heart wasn’t in the business anymore. Not just because she knew her mother had secretly purchased the paper, when Abby told her they were about to go under. No, it was more than that: The chase. The interviews. And, even more than anything, the shallowness of what she actually wrote about had jumped up and kicked her between the eyes. It wasn’t important. Any way you looked at it, it was simply silly trivia. It just didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, such as hunger, war, and natural disasters. Entertainment it was, but Abby had to admit—though she would never voice the thoughts out loud, especially to her mother, whose love of the tabloids hadn’t decreased one bit since her abduction—most of it was exaggerated. Half-truths, actors’ and actresses’ lives pumped up to appear as though they were the chosen ones. Life was perfect if you were lucky enough, smart enough, and had the talent to achieve the glorified interpretation of what it was like to live the life of a celebrity in Hollywood. When speaking to or writing about an actor or actress, Abby always had to remind herself to be politically correct when using those words, as they were gender specific. According to her writings, and those of a hundred others, to have the opportunity to glimpse the life of a celebrity from the inside was quite exhilarating, and those who were granted an inside peek were also privileged. She’d had that attitude from the time she was a little girl, no doubt something inherited from her mother. Not any longer. Though writing was in her blood, and the desire to continue to do so would always be a part of her, she didn’t care about Hollywood and all the glitz and glamour. Those few hours spent locked away in that awful, hot, dark closet had opened her eyes. She’d made a promise to herself then. If she survived, she was going to take life more seriously. And she had, she thought as she pushed and shoved the heavy box down the long corridor that led to the kitchen. For the past six months, much to her mother and godmothers’ delight, she’d spent every waking moment decorating and refurnishing the Clay Plantation. Inside the heavy box was an antique oak bench from a church in southern Georgia, which dated back to the early nineteenth century. Her mother had insisted she purchase it for the kitchen; Toots told Abby that someday she would have children, and this bench would be the most perfect place for them to sit if they were being punished. Abby had laughed, but secretly, she agreed. She imagined a towheaded little boy, with scraped knees and soulful blue eyes, begging her just to let him play one more round of Mario Brothers before he went to bed. And maybe a little girl with wispy curls and pillowy cheeks sticking her tongue out when she thought her mother wasn’t looking.
Shit!
“The heat is getting to me,” she said to herself as she ripped the packing tape off the top of the box. Hundreds of Styrofoam pieces shaped like peanuts scattered across the newly shellacked oak floor. She heard Chester, her dog-child, who just so happened to be a German shepherd, making his entrance as his nails clicked against the floor. He trotted across the large room to see what all the commotion was about.
“Ruff!” Chester barked softly. Abby knew this as his “I’m just curious” bark.
She reached across the bench she’d hefted out of its carton to scratch Chester between the ears. “According to Mom, this thing here”—she knocked on the bench for emphasis—“is going to be something of a discipline seat.”
The big shepherd tilted his head to the left, contemplating her words as though they were pearls of wisdom fallen from the heavens.
“I don’t get it, either, but it is what it is,” Abby said as she continued to remove bits and pieces of plastic wrap and little balls of Styrofoam from the antique bench. She did get it, she thought, but she wasn’t quite ready to say the words out loud. She needed to give them time to percolate in her brain, then bubble and simmer a bit before she actually said them out loud. And to Chris, she couldn’t forget him. He was her husband. Just the thought of him made her grin from ear to ear. Her fondest wish had come true, and here she was actually living smack-dab in the middle of what she once thought to be an impossible dream. She and Chris had married, and their life, so far, had been one helluva blast. Though she sometimes missed Los Angeles and the excitement, it never lasted
long enough to have an effect on her. Her life in Charleston was as close to perfect as one could get. At least she thought so.
“Ruff, ruff!”
Apparently, Chester agreed. “It’s a cool place to be, Chester.”
Again, the dog barked, in complete agreement.
Chester now possessed acres and acres of land to run on, and zillions of squirrels to chase. Plus, who knew what lurked beneath the dark water of the pond just south of the main house? Abby still had a hard time referring to her house as the main house. It dredged up memories of times that were best forgotten. Yes, this was a plantation home, she knew, but she hated to think of it as a place that had once housed slaves. No way, not now. A dozen small buildings that once housed the many slaves and their families were situated where you couldn’t actually view them from the main house, but Abby knew they were there. Chris didn’t like them, either, but he wouldn’t tear them down, because they were part of his historic home. Together, they hoped to put the buildings to good use.
She and Chris had discussed it at great length, and both agreed they wanted to help those in need. With the $10 million she’d received from her mother as a wedding gift, plus the monumental inheritance Chris had received when they married, they had way more than enough funds to work with. Chris took care of the documentation they needed to establish a nonprofit foundation. All they needed now were volunteers, and they could begin. She planned to get her mother and the three g’s to the table and share the idea with them. Of course, her mother would start asking 10 zillion questions about her and Chris’s plans for a family, and she would tell her they had all the time in the world to start a family. Well, maybe not all the time in the world. She wasn’t getting any younger.
Abby grinned. Why did her thoughts continue to stray down this path? It must be the bench and her mother’s suggestion, she thought, as she continued to ball up the plastic wrap and toss it aside.
Being only children themselves, both she and Chris wanted a large family, but neither had pinned down a certain time. Abby figured, if it happened, fine; if not, then that was fine, too. Frankly, she thought at her age she’d probably have to go the in vitro route, and she would if it were needed. But until then, she planned to enjoy the privileges of married life. Often and heartily. She shivered at the thought.
Chris was all she’d ever dreamed of, and then some. Sometimes she still felt like this was a dream and she would wake up, back in Brentwood, with Chester nuzzling her neck. The image brought forth a toothy grin. Yeah, Chester would always be her main man. He’d practically saved her life; and for that, she loved him even more. The big dog had become quite attached to Chris in the past few months. There were many mornings when Abby awakened, only to find she’d been deserted by her hubby and her best friend. My boys, she thought as she wiggled the bench over to a large rug.
Once she had the bench properly positioned on the rug, she pulled the rug slowly to the kitchen, careful not to tip the bench on its side. Once she had it in place, she took her iPhone from her pocket and snapped a quick picture, sending it to her mother’s cell phone. Her mother was a pro when it came to decorating, and she truly appreciated all of her suggestions.
Seconds later she heard a ping coming from her cell phone. Her mother. The message:
Perfect. Needs occupants.
Abby grinned. Since she and Chris had gotten married, her mother and godmothers never missed an opportunity to let her know they would love a grandchild. Abby texted back: In due time.
Her mother’s response: Only takes nine months.
She quickly replied: I’ll tell Chris. We so enjoy the practice!!! That was sure to keep her mother quiet for a few minutes.
Chris needs to spend more time with you, Toots texted back.
Abby’s fingers raced across the touch screen: Enough, Mom. I mean it. She added three smiley faces, just so her mother would know her text message wasn’t meant to be sharp. Actually, Abby didn’t mind her mother’s constant urging, but it just seemed like that’s all she and the three g’s talked about since she and Chris had gotten married. Well, that and the redecorating, plus Sophie and Goebel’s plans for the future, Ida’s conceit, Mavis’s love life, and Bernice’s main man, Robert, who was obsessed with finding new recipes. Her mother was careful to keep her and Phil’s relationship to herself, telling them it was no one’s business. They had all agreed to leave it alone for the time being.
Chester chose that very moment to jump on his hind legs and scratch at the back door. “Hey, pal, what’s this? You’ve got that fancy doggie door Chris installed if you need to go out.”
Curious to see what Chester was so anxious about, she peered through the small pane of glass above the door.
What she saw caused her to laugh out loud.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FERN MICHAELS is the USA Today and New York Times bestselling author of the Sisterhood, Men of the Sisterhood, and Godmothers series, and dozens of other novels and novellas. There are over ninety-five million copies of her books in print. Fern Michaels has built and funded several large day-care centers in her hometown, and is a passionate animal lover who has outfitted police dogs across the country with special bulletproof vests. She shares her home in South Carolina with her four dogs and a resident ghost named Mary Margaret.
Visit her website at fernmichaels.com.
FATE & FORTUNE
Dear Reader,
I’ve been lucky enough to share my stories with you for over forty years, and those first books occupy a special place in my heart. Vixen in Velvet and Whitefire are two of my earliest stories, and I am so happy to have this chance to introduce them to new readers.
VIXEN IN VELVET
Beautiful, well-bred Victoria Rawlings sees only one way to avoid an arranged marriage—switching places with a tavern maid. Her daring scheme leads her to Marcus Chancelor, who, like Tori, is not what he seems. The handsome American secretly poses as a highwayman to support a besieged colony. Once their identities are unmasked, will Tori seize a chance at happiness, far beyond the safety she’s known?
WHITEFIRE
Katerina Vaschenko seeks vengeance against the marauders who destroyed her village and stole her priceless horses for the mad czar. But she never dreamed that her sworn enemy the Mongol prince would be the one to aid her quest. Or that together, they would forge a destiny as magnificent as the land that is their glorious heritage....
BREAKING NEWS
The best of friends, Toots, Ida, Mavis, and Sophie have been there for each other through thick and thin . . .
Life Is Full of Surprises
Teresa “Toots” Amelia Loudenberry has her quirks,
but no one would ever question her loyalty. So it’s
no surprise when Toots decides to extend her stay in
Charleston to help care for her ailing housekeeper.
Though the Charleston air is drenched with azalea
and honeysuckle, and there’s always a pitcher of
sweet tea close to hand, the ladies have little time for
relaxing. Ida’s new line of cosmetics is about to
launch, and Toots, Mavis, and Sophie are relishing
new careers as models. And Abby, Toots’s daughter,
is getting hitched. In the middle of so much change,
Toots is almost too busy to notice her own
unexpected romance. After eight husbands, she’s
sworn never to get involved again. But fate—and
her friends—may have other plans. And every
godmother, fairy or otherwise, loves a story
that ends with happily-ever-after . . .
SWEET VENGEANCE
#1 New York Times bestselling author Fern
Michaels’s new novel is a deeply satisfying and
uplifting story of one woman’s journey from
heartbreak to triumph.
Tessa Jamison couldn’t have imagined anything
worse than losing her beloved twin girls
and
husband—until she was convicted of their murder.
For ten years, she has counted off the days in
Florida’s Correctional Center for Women, fully
expecting to die behind bars. Fighting to prove her
innocence holds little appeal now that her family’s
gone. But on one extraordinary day, her lawyers
announce that Tessa’s conviction has been
overturned due to a technicality, and she’s released
on bail to await a new trial.
Hounded by the press, Tessa retreats to the small
tropical island owned by her late husband’s
pharmaceutical company. There, she begins to
gather knowledge about her case. For the first time
since her nightmare began, Tessa feels a sense of
purpose in working to finally expose the truth and
avenge her lost family.
One by one, the guilty will be led to justice, and
Tessa can gain closure. But will she be able to
learn the truth at last . . . and reclaim her freedom
and her future?
Truth or Dare Page 25