About the book
    Jane Boyd is far too lax in perceiving a deadly threat aimed at her. Perhaps this is a result of her single-minded and dedicated focus on threats to women less fortunate than she, especially when it comes to selecting men. In fact, in Jane's personal life, she's not currently "selecting" so much as being selected—especially by her young niece's pediatrician. He seems smitten enough, but he can't get her attention for more than a minute before she's off getting into trouble again.
    This isn't to say that Jane doesn't have her critics. Among them is a lethal scoundrel called Doll. Experienced in such matters, he intends to get her attention all right, while curing her "permanently" of her blunders.
    But not so fast! Lilac Janie, as she's known to friends, has a good angel, one who is rather "partial" to the "martial."

From the book
    She moved cautiously into the dusky blur. "Chris?"
    She heard smothered movement, or thought she did.
    It isn't that the unexpected curses peace. Peace is cursed because, nine times out of ten, the so-called unexpected is somehow expected, hovering in the mind's back alley ready to dart out and hiss, "I told you so."
    Just another survival prop. Be prepared.
    Jane still argued with herself. This would turn out to be, it had to be, nothing at all. She whispered, "Chris? Maxine?"
    Silence echoed as only silence can.
    By now she'd tiptoed onto the gym floor—leather heels a no-no—and was midway through its dusky length facing a few tumbling mats stacked against the lead gray wall, the only spot of color a brilliant red fire extinguisher. She hesitated, rocking on her toes. A basketball hoop at the far end vibrated gently. Was the back door open?
    If only to break the dense silence, she said, "Fawnnn …?"
    From the back foyer twittered a mocking falsetto. "Jaaaneee, Jaaaneee …"
    Her wits froze, pinning her in ice.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Elizabeth Jerrome is a retired psychologist and former registered nurse. As a change of pace, she now lives in a rose-vined Missouri cottage and contrives as-if murder and mayhem.