Amber Gilchrist lives in New Mexico with her husband and six children. She writes YA , Romantic Comedies, and series mysteries. She calls her lifetime of jumping from one job to another 'experience' for her books and not an inability to settle down. Amber loves mysteries and a good, happy romance. She also loves to laugh. Sometimes she likes all of them together.
A fan of quirky movies and indie books, Amber likes to be with her family, is socially inept, and fears strangers and small yippy dogs. She alternates between writing and being a mom. She tries to do both at the same time but her kids don't appreciate being served lunch and told, "This is the hot dog of your discontent." So mostly she writes when everyone else is in bed.
Audrey Scott might be a children’s librarian, but that isn’t all she can do. When her best friend, Gretchen Holden, stands accused of a murder, Audrey can’t handle doing nothing more than bailing Gretchen out of jail. She has to figure out who really killed Gretchen’s step-father, a universally hated federal judge.
With a not small list of potential people the judge has wronged, Audrey and her friends have a rough ride ahead of them trying to decide who had a motive, means, and opportunity to put the judge in an early grave. With the help of Derek Hennessy, erstwhile enemy turned very good friend, and her normal crew of cohorts, Audrey won’t stop until the threat no longer looms.
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I laughed, despite the fact I wasn’t sure what to make of his behavior. It suggested an intimacy that he’d seemed adverse to yesterday. Maybe he’d been telling the truth. He didn’t empirically dislike being touched. He just had to be ready for it. It was still tragic, either way.
“Stepladders? You have no sympathy for my state of shortness. I need these shoes.”
He smirked. “You need them, huh?”
I pulled in a deep breath, which gave me a nose full of Derek’s coat. I had noticed it back when he’d been John Smith. Derek smelled incredible. So did his coat. Just the right mix of something smoky, something clean, and something distinctly male. I assumed it was a combination of whatever he used to groom himself and the inherent smell of man, but whatever it was, I approved.
“I need them. You are approximately seven hundred feet tall. You have no idea what it’s like not being able to reach the upper cabinets. These shoes allow me to function in normal society.”
He truly laughed this time. I loved the sound of it. I’d only really heard it twice. Once when I’d called him pretentious at the library before, and once now. He had an impish sense of humor, but one would never know it from his behavior most of the time. I shivered again, and this time it wasn’t from the weather.
“I wasn’t aware that reaching the upper cabinets was the earmark of functioning properly in normal society.”
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