by Gina LaManna
LACEY LUZZI: S’MORED
Copyright: Gina LaManna
ISBN: XXXX
Published: Sept 30th, 2015
Kindle Edition
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Spooked – the SIXTH Lacey Luzzi book is due out October 2015!
Lacey Luzzi S’mored
Synopsis:
Lacey Luzzi just wants a s’more.
After her grandfather gifts her a relaxing weekend at his luxury cabin, Lacey packs her best friend Meg into the Lumina and together they take off, dreaming of a girls’ weekend filled with bonfires, boat rides, and work-free days. However, when three unexpected visitors show up on the doorstep of the Luzzi cabin, her plans of peace and quiet are foiled. It only gets worse after Lacey finds a dead body in her trunk – with no explanation as to how, or why, he’d landed face down in her leftover Taco Bell!
Suddenly, Lacey’s trip is no longer a weekend getaway, but a top secret assignment full of kidnappings, karaoke bars, and a suspiciously meddlesome grandmother. She recruits the help of new boyfriend Anthony, as well as computer-whiz cousin Clay, and together they must find the murderer, or else they will be planning a very different kind of getaway.
Acknowledgements:
To you, my readers! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Lacey would not exist without you!
** **
Happy Birthday to a wonderful Ku-Z-Spy! You mean the world to me. я тебя люблю!
To Mom— For singing the best rendition of A Whole New World I’ve ever heard.
To Dad— For lighting up a perfect bonfire whenever us girls would ask for one!
To Meg & Kristi— For being the best of sisters.
To Gillian and Sherry— As always, thank you for your fantastic editing.
To Barb and Dianne—Your support, encouragement, and suggestions mean so much to me.
To my Oceans Apart S’more:
- To Joy, for being the marshmallow that holds us together.
- To Asheley, for being the graham cracker that gives us support.
- To Monique, for being the chocolate in the middle that makes us complete!
To Sprinkles On Top Studios, my awesome cover designer.
Photo Courtesy of Deposit Photos
To Stacie, Kelly, Sue and Calluna— you’re my absolute favorite beaches.
To Katie, Emily, Nicole, Shelly, Rissa, Nikki, Julie and Molly, for being my friends!
And last but not least, to all my family and friends, thanks for making me laugh.
MEG’S KARAOKE PLAYLIST
MMMBop…………………….……….. in the style of Joy “Marshmallow” Prewitt
Wild Women Do…………………….. remixed by Monique “Chocolate” Cashmere
Blame it on the Night…………….. sung in the style of Kuzy “Toothless” Spy
A Whole New World………………. hummed to by Toni Thorwick
Wannabe……………………………….. a duet by Rissa Pierce & Ashton Shea Riffle
Bad Girls………………………………... feat. Dianne Wallace
Fast Car…………………………………. sung by Shannon Lambeth
Don’t Stop Believing………………. feat. T. Sue Versteeg
Baby Got Back………………………. sung by Sarah Ziske and Angela Barbour
The Piña Colada Song....……….. remixed by Ursula Paddie
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun……. feat. Janet Verburg
Oops! ...I Did it Again……………. serenaded by Marsha Bachmeier
Pour Some Sugar On Me………… feat. Virginia Chapman and Paige Kirby
Family Traditions…………………… sung by Sandy Lipinski
Friends in Low Places…………….. selected by Brittany Stoffer
Bootylicious…………………………… rocked by Kimberly De Sousa
Sweet Caroline………………………. feat. Jenifer Baldwin Stubbs
You Shook Me All Night Long…. grooved to by Erin Whitten
National Anthem……………………. boogied to by Sue Seabury
Love Shack……………………………… sung by Amy Fair Pond
Paradise…………………………….…… danced to by Barb Glasscoe
I Love Rock & Roll…………………… sung by Ashley Spicer
Summer Nights………………….…… feat. Caroline Fardig
Jump Around……………………….… feat. Miss Kelly “Frickin” Lincoln
What’s Up……………………………… in the style of Sylvia Galewski
I Will Survive………………………….. feat. Leigh Anne Isbell
Toxic………………………………………. feat. “The One and Only” Jenner Penner
Chapter 1
“Do you think this outfit shows off my curves?” Meg, a former cop and my best friend since forever, turned towards me in the itsy bitsy, teensy weensy-est bikini known to man.
“You look great, Meg.” I ignored the fact that she’d chosen a swimsuit three sizes too small, and I instead focused on the positive. “I really like your earrings.”
Meg grinned, preening in front of the mirror. “This thing was made for me.”
She selected a comb from my dresser, proceeding to brush her mane of shaggy hair. I winced as one or two leftover donut sprinkles fell to the carpet.
“Lacey!” Meg snapped her fingers. “Pay attention, chickadee. I’m reconsidering now. Do I need a size smaller? Be honest.”
I tried to dodge the question with a shrug, but Meg turned back, a hand on her hip, and fixed me with a calculating stare.
I took a deep breath. If I ignored the fact that her suit failed to cover a polite amount of skin, then she looked great. However, I wasn’t in the mood to argue at the moment. My stomach growled with alarming frequency, and we were already late getting on the road. Our vacation wouldn’t wait forever.
“I think you look like a rock star,” I said. “I just have one little concern.”
Meg frowned. “If you’re worried I’m going to outshine you with my new outfit, you have nothing to fear. You’re my best bud, and I’d never try to show you up. Some guys are into skinny buns like yours. It’s why we make a great team; we complement each other.”
“That’s why you’re a great friend!” I shifted from one foot to another. “But I’m more worried about what happens if you jump. Or move too
quickly. Or, you know, walk anywhere.” I made a little walking motion with my fingers. “For example, at the cabin we might jump off the dock or dive from the boat. We have games and activities we can do to relax, and I just don’t want you to feel restricted.”
“Games?” Meg asked. “Like strip poker and spin the bottle? Roulette with real bullets?”
“I meant more like hopscotch, but I’m always open to ideas.”
Meg eyeballed me for a second. “Don’t worry. I’m not jumping anywhere. I plan on being a full-on, sunbathing beauty this whole vacation. I’m gonna be that girl from Babe Watch.”
I gestured to the suit. “You’d need a red one-piece if you wanted to be in Baywatch.”
“Nah, I’m bringing that show into the twenty-first century, girl. Two-piece bathing suits, these days.”
“You’re the woman for the job,” I said. “Now can we please get a move on? Carlos is waiting to give us the keys. We have to swing by his place before we hit the road.”
Carlos, my grandfather and the Don of the Italian Mafia – St. Paul extension – was an intimidating man. He owned a fortress in the Cities that could blow up Cuba, make the Bermuda Triangle entirely disappear, and protect the Family against most terrorist attacks.
Fortunately, I was on his good side for now.
Meg and I had sort of successfully completed a few projects for Carlos. I say sort of because there’d been a shocking number of explosions along the way, in addition to a few grizzled criminals, some dealings with our rival Russian mob, and a handful of steamy kisses with my former gym-trainer-slash-undercover-bodyguard.
For some reason, Carlos had still decided to reward us with a relaxing weekend away. My recent birthday party had been a bittersweet disaster, so after the chaos had died down, Carlos announced he’d be sending me and a friend away for the weekend. To my surprise and excitement, he’d given us the all-access pass to his luxury cabin.
I’d considered asking my new boyfriend to join me, but I knew it would hurt Meg’s feelings, so I refrained. Plus, it’d been awhile since we’d had a real girl’s weekend alone, and I was looking forward to some sun, spritzers, and s’mores.
Anthony and I had only recently become an official couple. As it so happened, Meg was the only person privy to the “official” relationship news thus far, mostly because Anthony and I weren’t ready to be pestered about a wedding date yet.
On top of that, Anthony and I had barely spent any time alone together. After asking me to become his girlfriend a few nights before, we’d hardly done more than kiss and hold hands. I wanted some time alone with him before the family intruded on our new relationship. Unfortunately, Anthony had been called away to deal with an issue for Carlos the morning after my birthday, and I hadn’t seen him since.
Though I was itching to get some alone time with him, I vowed that I wouldn’t let my friendship with Meg fall to the wayside in the whirlwind of a new man in my life. She’d been there for me for years, and I couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever let that change.
Which was why we’d ended up planning a weekend away – just the two of us – at a remote, zero wi-fi sort of place, complete with a real live bonfire pit in the backyard. The getaway promised relaxation by the lake and balmy Midwestern summer temperatures, ideal for pontoon rides and sunbathing. Not to mention beautiful, golden s’mores roasted over a smoky fire.
“You think I should wear this suit to your grandparents’ mansion? I mean, no offense, but Carlos is kind of a…” She looked around as if someone might be listening behind my closet door. “Tight-ass.”
I also glanced around suspiciously, because there was a small chance someone might actually be listening. Clay, my roommate and favorite cousin, was a tech genius who could rearrange the NSA’s database in minutes, hack Obama’s Facebook with his hands tied between his legs, and retrieve just about anybody’s address, phone, and social security numbers with the slightest hint of a name.
“Yeah, you might want to slip into a cover-up or something,” I suggested. “Just in case you get cold.”
“Yeah, I suppose. But just know it’s out of respect for Carlos I’m covering up, and not because I’m ashamed of my body. I like to show off this figure to the world.” Meg posed in a Baywatch sort of position, and I shielded my eyes.
Almost immediately, a loud crash resounded behind me. I whipped around, thankful for the distraction.
“Oh, hey, Clay – Clay? Are you okay?” I took a few steps over to where my cousin was, his body sprawled against the doorframe and his eyes glued shut. His face grew redder by the second and his jaw hung slack. A squeak came from his mouth, similar in pitch to a strangled mouse.
Meg, however, merely winked and took a bow, blowing him a kiss, as Clay gingerly stepped backwards. “Thank you, thank you very much.”
“It’ll be okay.” I patted Clay lightly on the back. The poor guy was probably still in shock – it’d been awhile since he’d seen a girl in any form of undress, let alone a girl with the “confidence” of Meg. “Take a deep breath.”
Clay nodded and backed silently out of the room, his movements rigid. My cousin’s ability to function under normal social settings was average at best. Throw in a halfway naked girl in a Babe Watch pose, and his ability to interact with humans decreased to zilch.
A perfectly normal-looking guy, Clay had the slightly translucent sheen to his skin that went along with being a savant in the computer industry. His hair was black and shaggy and hung over the side of his face when he needed a haircut. A big guy and a bit soft around the waist, he was an awesome hugger when in the mood, which was seldom.
Our grandmother worried about his dating life, but I tried to stay out of it as much as possible. In return for my support, Clay helped me scrounge up information for my Family assignments.
I grabbed Clay’s arm and ushered him from Meg’s presence to his “safe place” on the couch, where he could zone out amidst eight glowing monitors, four computer towers, and seven keyboards. I even gave him my favorite pink bowl and filled it with half a bag of popcorn. The other half of the bag was currently unavailable. In unrelated news, my stomach became slightly less growly.
When I returned to my bedroom, Meg looked up.
“Nice work, Lacey,” Meg said. “You know how to handle people. That’s why you’re good at your job.”
“My job. Right,” I said, thinking that job was a stretch. The word job implied a 401k, benefits, and a nine-to-five, all of which didn’t come standard when working for my Family.
“Yeah, you’re better at being a mobsterista than a stripper. Something about those Sugary Senses you got. Plus, you failed at being a stripper.”
“Yes, thank you. Thanks for bringing that up.”
“But that mother of yours, now she on the other hand…” Meg shook her head in blatant admiration. Seeing my terse gaze, she recovered quickly. “May God rest her soul – she was one heck of a stripper.”
“Yes, she was beautiful,” I said with a sigh.
Beautiful, however, was an understatement. My mother had been gorgeous, where I was much more…average. Despite my inability to follow in my mother’s sequined footsteps, my body was decent, my hair golden on a good day (kind of brownish-blond, technically), and I managed to fit into a respectably-sized pair of jeans, if I laid off the brownies for two days prior to any event requiring the use of actual pants. In fact, I hate pants. I hate jeans. I hate fabric meant to constrict the free-flowing nature of my thighs.
“Ok, is this better?” Meg emerged from the closet.
I’d expected her to come out dressed in some sort of flashy, fancy cover-up that cost too much money for too little fabric. But I was in for a surprise.
Turning to face me, Meg pouted. “I think it cramps my style, but at least it’ll cover up some skin while we’re at Carlos’s place.”
“What is that?” I squinted in her general direction.
“It’s my cover-up!”
“Isn’t it supposed to cover y
ou up?” I blinked. She’d draped herself in what looked like a raincoat made out of plastic wrap.
“Technically, it covers me up,” Meg said. “It just doesn’t obstruct the view.”
“Oh, no,” I murmured.
“Yeah, you’re right. I look better without it.”
I plastered a smile on my face. “How about you just wait in the car? Shirts and shoes are required at Carlos’s house.”
“Now that’s just unreasonable,” she said. “I’m all about following the rules if they’re a teensy bit reasonable, but that’s just nuts.”
I grabbed my small purse and easy-to-carry backpack. I headed out of my room, expecting Meg to follow closely behind.
“Meg, that’s not true. You don’t like rules at all,” I pointed out. “Which is probably why you got kicked off the police force. You can’t punch people for calling you names and ‘borrow’ guns out of the evidence locker.”
When there was no response, I turned around. I’d reached the front door to my saggy, lopsided apartment, but I’d lost Meg somewhere along the way. I huffed back to my bedroom and found Meg grunting, trying unsuccessfully to haul two bags the size of small aircraft through the door.
Meg gave a huge roar and a tug, moving the suitcases no more than an inch. The effort landed her flat on her rear end. “About rule breaking,” she said, breathing heavily. “If a criminal calls me fat, don’t I got the right to protect myself? Plus, nobody was using those guns I borrowed. They were just sitting in a locker getting all moldy.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think guns get rusty instead of moldy. But don’t quote me on that, since I don’t have one. Anyway, I think all your luggage is overkill. We’ll only be gone for a few days.”
“It’s definitely not overkill. I need everything I packed,” Meg said. “I brought a party.”
I groaned. Meg’s idea of a good time was often quite different than mine.
“Clay, can you come in here?” I hollered. “Meg, please throw on a sweatshirt or something. Else the man won’t be able to concentrate.”