Even before the release of Murder in the Village, folks were asking for the second book and when would they be in the book. They asked we answered. The Second Book of the series is in the works.

Ducktape, Tarp and A Shovel is the title here is a snippet.

Chapter 1

  It all started in the middle aisle of the hardware store. Just when I thought things were going to settle down after the arrest and conviction of Dante Sherman and the commitment of his wife Lala to the institution of the off-the-reservation mindset, they blew up again.

  For those of you who have forgotten, my name is Greer O’Malley and I live in a community of soon to be forgotten people of a certain age. There is an adage that the state I currently reside in is called “God’s Waiting Room.” I am inclined to agree. People of a certain age move to this state in the beginning to just be here part time. They don’t like the winter months in the frozen tundra also known as North of the Mason-Dixon line. They, like the winged creatures, fly south for the winter. After growing tired of either flying back and forth, or driving back and forth, they at some point decide to stay put in “God’s Waiting Room.”   

  As I said at the start of this little story, it all started in the middle aisle of the hardware store. I made the mistake of venturing out during the daylight hours. I needed something from the hardware store and this is where my story begins. As I stood looking at the numerous water faucets, I heard a voice I thought I would never hear again.

  “Greer, what a surprise.”

   Slowly I turned around and there she was. Lala Sherman in the flesh and not a twisted part of my imagination.

   “Well, I thought you off on a retreat of some sort. At least that was the word going around in the village.” I said.

 “Oh, Greer. You would not believe what has been going on. After that disaster of a drag show, I did go away for a while. But I am back, no thanks to you.”

  This time my thoughts did not come out of my mouth. I wanted them to but that little voice said, “Don’t do it. There are too many sharp objects with her reach.”

    Instead, I said, “Well, it is good to see you out and about.”

  Before she could answer I saw him. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Her husband Dante was strolling down the aisle like he didn’t have a worry in the world. I looked around to make sure I had not beamed up to a parallel dimension. How in the name of all reality did he get out of prison? How did she get out of the home for the stupidly insane? My answers were soon to be forthcoming.

   Lala smiled. It was a smile I knew all too well. “I guess you are wondering how come we are back?”

   Not missing a beat, I replied, “well, that thought did cross my mind.”

    Looking at her husband with that secret look that sometimes pass between husband and wife, she replied, “It appears during his trial, there were some small technicalities that his attorney used to get an appeal which resulted in his getting early release. The judge got overzealous and gave him sentences outside of the min/max guidelines. As for me, well, I am cured. Or so they say. So, here we are. Free at last as the old saying goes.”

    I looked at both thinking to myself, ‘here we go again.’

    Out loud I said, “Are you back at the village?”

     Lala replied, “Sort of.”