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    Whiskey on the Rocks (Novella): Addison Holmes, #5
    Whiskey on the Rocks (Novella): Addison Holmes, #5
    Whiskey on the Rocks (Novella): Addison Holmes, #5
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    Whiskey on the Rocks (Novella): Addison Holmes, #5

    By Liliana Hart

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    About this ebook

    In Liliana Hart's New York Times bestselling Addison Holmes series, Addison bites off more than she can chew as she investigates a decades-old murder. 

    When Addison's Aunt Scarlet comes to town saying she found a murderer, she, Addison, and Rosemarie decide to go undercover because of the high bounty on the Romeo Bandit's head. The only problem is they have to go undercover at a nudist colony. 

    LanguageEnglish
    Publisher7th Press
    Release dateNov 30, 2018
    ISBN9781386238348
    Whiskey on the Rocks (Novella): Addison Holmes, #5
    Author

    Liliana Hart

    Liliana Hart is a New York Times, USA TODAY, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of more than forty titles. Since self-publishing in June of 2011, Liliana has sold more than four million ebooks. She’s appeared at #1 on lists all over the world and all three of her series have appeared on the New York Times list. Liliana is a sought after speaker and she’s given keynote speeches and self-publishing workshops from California to New York to London. When Liliana and her husband aren’t spending time with their children, they’re living the life of nomads, traveling wherever interests them most.

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      Book preview

      Whiskey on the Rocks (Novella) - Liliana Hart

      Whiskey On The Rocks

      Whiskey On The Rocks

      An Addison Holmes Short (Book 5)

      Liliana Hart

      7th Press

      Contents

      Title Page

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

      About the Author

      Also by Liliana Hart

      WHISKEY ON THE ROCKS

      An Addison Holmes Short

      By

      New York Times bestselling author

      Liliana Hart

      Copyright © 2016 by Liliana Hart

      All rights reserved.

      Published by 7Th Press

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

      Dedication

      For Scott,

      Because you’re my hero and my heart.

      Prologue

      Friday

      I’ve seen a lot of male genitalia in my life.

      Okay, maybe not a lot. But I’ve seen a few in real life, and I might have seen one or two in a dirty movie Nick and I rented a few months back. I wasn’t impressed by the movie genitalia. All I could think was that those poor girls must get a lot of urinary tract infections.

      And if I’m being honest, male genitalia is not the most attractive thing on the planet, even when it belongs to someone like Nick, who has very impressive attributes and knows just what to do with them. I’ve always thought male dangly bits looked something along the lines of a forlorn Snuffleupagus—a little sad, with a droopy trunk, and tufts of hair sprouting every which way.

      My name is Addison Holmes, and there’s a reason genitalia is at the forefront of my mind. I’m a private investigator at the McClean Detective Agency. By the grace of God and hot fudge sundaes, I’d somehow managed to pass all portions of the exam that allowed me to carry the laminated license with my photo on it, as well as the pink-handled 9mm I kept in my Kate Spade handbag. I’d bought the Glock and the handbag out of the trunk of Louis Bergman’s Cadillac when I’d gone home to Whiskey Bayou for the holidays. He’d been running a two-for-one special.

      A fat lot of good the handbag and Glock were doing me now though. It would look a little foolish to be carrying an almost-genuine Kate Spade around a nudist colony, and carrying concealed wasn’t really an option. The best I could do was hide my Glock under a towel in the beach bag I carried.

      I was uncomfortable enough standing on the pier in the buff with Rosemarie and Aunt Scarlet at my side. A three-thousand-dollar camera hung around my neck, leaving a very interesting tan line down the center of each of my boobs from the strap. I’d been pretending to take pictures of seagulls for the last fifteen minutes, when in fact, I was trying to take pictures of Elmer Hughes, a man whose Snuffleupagus was approximately a hundred years old and looked like it suffered from elephantiasis.

      Lord, would you look at the testicles on that man, Aunt Scarlet said. They’re the size of oranges. How do you think he keeps from sitting on them?

      You think he’s had implants? Rosemarie asked. I’ve heard plastic surgeons down here make a killing on senior citizens. People get to a certain age and then want to discover the fountain of youth.

      And testicular implants are supposed to make you look younger? I asked skeptically, trying to zoom in on Elmer.

      Everything droops when you get to be my age, Scarlet said. We associate tight and firm with youthfulness. Instead of getting the implants, he should’ve given those puppies a facelift. They almost hang all the way to his knees.

      Elmer was down on the beach under one of the umbrellas, sunning on a lounger top side up, making sure his oranges got plenty of sun. I could barely get a decent shot of the tattoo on his arm, and even with the full zoom and focus of the camera, it was still difficult to make out. Age hadn’t been kind to Elmer Hughes.

      I thought about getting my lady parts tightened up a bit, Scarlet continued. They call it vaginal rejuvenation, if you can believe that. I haven’t had anything rejuvenating down there since the time I walked through Wally Pinkerton’s yard and all the sprinklers came on.

      Umm, I said, for lack of anything better.

      I was going to get rejuvenated because a couple of years ago I thought I might be getting some action, and I wanted everything to look as if it just came out of the factory. But the fellow up and died on me before we could get all hot and bothered. Take my advice, Addison. Never let a man die when they’re lying on top of you. Thank God he was wearing one of those medic alert buttons around his neck, because I never would’ve been able to push him off to reach the phone.

      I was in a complete state of Zen. Or it could have been the Xanax I’d taken with my mojito at lunch. There was no other way to survive being naked with two people I had no desire to be naked with, or to listen to the conversation we were currently having without it.

      It’s probably best you opted out of the surgery, Rosemarie said. Sharon Osbourne said it was excruciating.

      Ehh, I don’t have much feeling left down there anyway, Scarlet said with a shrug. I’ve stopped holding out hope.

      You’ve just got to wait for a man who’s big enough to make things seem not so loosey-goosey down there.

      Since Scarlet had just celebrated her ninetieth, I was thinking finding that particular man might be a challenge.

      I’m going to have to get closer, I said, hoping this would distract them from the conversation.

      Look, Rosemarie said. Those loungers right next to him just came open. Let’s get them before someone else does. You should be able to take plenty of pictures from that angle.

      I sighed and let go of the camera so it hung around my neck. I wanted to say there was something freeing about standing completely naked on the pier, the wind tousling my hair and the sun beating down on my bare skin, but I’d be lying. I pretty much felt just like I had during middle school—awkward posture due to not knowing what to do with my body, awkward hair that frizzed in humidity no matter how much I straightened it, and awkward friends that pretty much guaranteed a lot of

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