Enjoy this humorous cozy mystery with a fashionable amateur sleuth and secrets from the past by national bestselling author Diane Vallere. Amateur Sleuth Samantha Kidd is in over her head. With no job prospects on the horizon, former fashion buyer Samantha Kidd convinces boyfriend and shoe designer Nick Taylor to give her a job. But when close friend Eddie asks for help with an exhibit of vintage Hollywood costumes, she splits her time between romance and comedy--until a dead man claims all of her attention. Brimming with good intentions, she leaves the investigation to the cops, but the killer keeps Eddie in the crosshairs. If Samantha can tear the lid off the investigation, it might mean a feather in her fedora. And if she can't? Her best friend might get capped. The Brim Reaper is the third humorous book in the Killer Fashion mystery series, although each can be read as a standalone mystery. With its irresistible characters, sparkling dialogue, and a murder mystery that is as charming as it is puzzling, this novel is for fans of A.R. Winters, Deana Ray, and Jasmine Webb. If you like witty protagonists, clever dialogue, and fair-play whodunits, you’ll love Diane Vallere’s humorous mystery. Diane-Fans describe “her vintage Vallere goodness,” and say she is a “great storyteller” with “a way with creating strong female characters and intrigue” who is “a superb and very humorous writer.” Her gift of creating “spunky sleuths in fun settings” take readers to Dallas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, Pennsylvania, and outer space.

Enjoy this humorous cozy mystery with a fashionable amateur sleuth and secrets from the past by national bestselling author Diane Vallere. Amateur Sleuth Samantha Kidd is in over her head. With no job prospects on the horizon, former fashion buyer Samantha Kidd convinces boyfriend and shoe designer Nick Taylor to give her a job. But when close friend Eddie asks for help with an exhibit of vintage Hollywood costumes, she splits her time between romance and comedy--until a dead man claims all of her attention. Brimming with good intentions, she leaves the investigation to the cops, but the killer keeps Eddie in the crosshairs. If Samantha can tear the lid off the investigation, it might mean a feather in her fedora. And if she can't? Her best friend might get capped. The Brim Reaper is the third humorous book in the Killer Fashion mystery series, although each can be read as a standalone mystery. With its irresistible characters, sparkling dialogue, and a murder mystery that is as charming as it is puzzling, this novel is for fans of A.R. Winters, Deana Ray, and Jasmine Webb. If you like witty protagonists, clever dialogue, and fair-play whodunits, you’ll love Diane Vallere’s humorous mystery. Diane-Fans describe “her vintage Vallere goodness,” and say she is a “great storyteller” with “a way with creating strong female characters and intrigue” who is “a superb and very humorous writer.” Her gift of creating “spunky sleuths in fun settings” take readers to Dallas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, Pennsylvania, and outer space.

Enjoy this smart cozy mystery series that winks at Doris Day movies by national bestselling author Diane Vallere… National bestselling author Diane Vallere takes decorator Madison Night back to school in this fun-filled mystery with a unique, over-50 amateur sleuth! A professor murdered during office hours. A decorator enrolled in his course. Can she outsmart the killer who designed the perfect crime? Madison Night just learned that business isn’t sexy. She modeled her decorating career on a Doris Day movie, but after losing her company in a legal battle, the local banks are unimpressed with her unique sales angle. Determined to get her MBA, she attends night school – until her professor is found dead after an intensely-heated lecture. Now the only degree she can think about is murder in the first. While the college recovers, Madison’s last hope for a loan is denied. The dean resumes the coursework himself, and Madison can’t help wondering if the curriculum holds the clues to the murder. Continuing her education is not without risk; pursuing her MBA may leave her DOA. Can Madison’s sleuthing make the grade or will failure be a fatal lesson? Teacher's Threat is the eighth captivating mystery in the Madison Night series. If you like smart protagonists, classroom controversies, and Cabot Cove syndrome, you’ll love Diane Vallere’s enjoyable book. "Make room for Vallere's tremendously fun homage. Imbuing her story with plenty of mid-century modern decorating and fashion tips, not to mention a steady patter of Doris Day trivia, Vallere debuts a well-paced cozy series. Her disarmingly honest lead and two hunky sidekicks will appeal to all fashionistas and antiques types and have romance crossover appeal." - Library Journal "If you are looking for an unconventional mystery with a snarky, no-nonsense main character, this is it. Madison is a strong leading lady who lands in lots of quirky situations. Instead of clashing, humor and danger meld perfectly, and there's a cliffhanger that will make your jaw drop. You'll look forward to the second Madison Night mystery." - RT Book Reviews "A charming modern tribute to Doris Day movies and the retro era of the 50s, including murders, escalating danger, romance... and a puppy!" - Linda O. Johnston, Author of the Pet Rescue Mysteries "It was fast and furious, had a lot of info, characters, suspects, and even a few tangled romances. I love mysteries where I can't figure out who the real killer is until the end, and this was one of those. The novel was well-written, moved at a smooth pace, and Madison's character was a riot." - ChickLit Plus "This was a delightful read for me. I particularly enjoy and like Doris Day and was so surprised that Pillow Talk was mentioned in the book along with Doris Day. It's nice having a cute, cozy mystery to read, I look forward to more in the series!" -Bookreporter.com "If you love the Technicolor movies of Doris Day and Rock Hudson and watch Mad Men for fashion tips, author Diane Vallere has written a mystery that will appeal to the mid-century modern heart." - ReaderToReader.com "An intricately plotted and well-written book, I really enjoyed the story. I can't imagine decorating a house in the style from Doris Day's movies but it makes fine reading." - Fresh Fiction

Enjoy this humorous outer space mystery adventure with uniform lieutenant Sylvia Stryker and a supporting cast of quirky aliens by national bestselling author Diane Vallere… Sylvia Stryker has found her footing in the Moon Unit Corporation--but it’ll take more than fancy dance moves for this amateur sleuth to stay alive on this hilarious rescue mission in space from national bestselling author Diane Vallere. Space sleuth Sylvia Stryker wants more from her day job aboard a Moon Unit than to manage crew uniforms. In her time between moon treks, she turns to hunky hero Neptune for lessons in security training. But when a hijacked space pod lands by their training site and the body of an intergalactic courier is discovered inside, Sylvia’s newly-acquired skills are put to the test. The courier was a friend who shared her interest in back-channel business, and his death seems like a message—or worse, a warning. Determined to seek justice, Sylvia and Neptune assemble a team. But there’s more to this trek through the stars than expected, including fifty rambunctious aliens accidentally beamed aboard the ship, some very nasty space pirates, and one suspicious member of the staff who thought the recruitment message was a call of duty. Now Sylvia’s on a quest to catch a killer, but if she fails, she could wipe out an entire alien race in the process. Hijacked on a Moon Trek is the hilarious third novel featuring uniform lieutenant Sylvia Stryker. If you like humorous mysteries, unique characters, and spacey fun, or read favorites like Joann Fluke or Dakota Cassidy, you'll love Diane Vallere's entertaining interstellar series. Previously published as SATURN NIGHT FEVER. “What a fun, unique, and intriguing story. Love the inside joke about red shirts. That and the laser cat! Lol!!.... Thank you for such an entertaining read!” – Reader “I am pleased to say that after finishing the third book in the series, the enchanting mind of author Diane Vallere continues to charm and come up with even more new fun and adventures around every corner.” – Reader CHAPTER ONE EXCERPT: When Neptune said I fought like a girl, I did the only respectable thing. I hit him. That’s not to say it’s a good idea for dropouts from the space academy to strike their newly-appointed superiors, but in this case, he deserved it. In the two versions of the story that will be told of the incident, at least one will contain the fact that technically, I was in training. Technically, the only reason we were on the helipad on the corner of Neptune’s property was because the helipad was a convenient place to practice. Technically, I was being paid a small sponsorship fee to test the durability of new uniforms designed for Moon Unit Corporation, and technically, the only way I could fully know if the uniforms were durable were to see how they held up when I threw a punch. Neptune’s version might include slight variations. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am a girl,” I said. Neptune was bigger, older, and more experienced than I was, and he probably had more important things to do than spend the day teaching me defensive maneuvers. But never graduating had left me with relatively few channels to advance my learning. After Moon Unit 6 returned from Venus, Neptune contacted me via the comm device implanted in my ear and offered me free room and board in exchange for lessons to pick up where my interrupted education had left off. I’d dropped out when my dad was arrested so I could help my mom with the family dry ice mines. Neptune’s offer to teach me gave us both something of value. I’d accepted, more for me than for him. I’m selfish that way. “You know why you were almost incapacitated on our last moon trek?” he asked. “Because you dropped your guard. You thought size and skill were enough to beat your enemy. You fought fair. You fought like a woman.” “Oh, so now I’m a woman?” I countered. “I grew up fast.” It wasn’t that Neptune treated me like a girl or a woman. He treated me like a student. And most of the time I was okay with that. But the voice in my head that I didn’t want to listen to wondered why someone like Neptune spent time training someone like me. It was a voice that hadn’t had much to question since my dad was arrested. Any attention paid to me usually had strings attached. Retribution for my dad’s crimes, or the novelty of my half Plunian background in a world where lavender women were now rare. More than once I’d fended off advances when I saw where they were headed. I developed a thick skin and narrowed my social circle to a very tight group. But despite the fact that Neptune was a muscular wall of taciturn authority, or maybe because of it, I was attracted to him. I doubted it was the black military-issue cargo gear he wore (did he buy his clothes in bulk?) or the intimidating stance he’d perfected long before I met him (arms crossed, feet shoulder-width apart). I’d never been attracted to men in power—in fact, power was a pretty tried-and-true turn-off. I didn’t know what it was about Neptune that made my lavender skin glow at the least opportune times. I only knew it was important to me to prove to him that I was different. Today, different meant throwing a non-girly punch. He grabbed my wrist and closed my fingers into a fist. His hand was twice the size of mine—tawny against my lavender coloring. “You have to toughen up, Stryker. You’re smart, and you learn information fast, but instincts don’t come from a book.” “I learned how to fight by an accredited Hapkido master. Or have you already forgotten that I dropped you with a sweeping kick because you underestimated me?” He let go of my fist and pointed at me. “Don’t let that go to your head. Success is built on failure. If you learn anything from these lessons, learn that. Failure is your friend.” “I thought failure wasn’t an option? The flight director of Earth’s space shuttle program said it, right? His biography was required reading.” “You didn’t read the book. That’s a made-up quote from a movie script. The flight director liked the line so much he used it for the title of his biography. Lesson number two: check your source. I thought you knew that by now.” I didn’t tell Neptune that I hadn’t read the book because the course took place after I dropped out. I’m pretty sure lesson number three was to keep your weaknesses to yourself. “Repeat it back to me.” “Blah, blah, check your source.” “Repeat what I told you about failure.” “‘Failure is my friend.’” “Remember that.” He turned around and walked a few feet away from me and then turned back. “If you think you can fight because you dropped me—once—then you’ll get complacent. Don’t forget what happened the last time you got complacent.” How could I forget? I almost died. It didn’t help that the fight had been four against one or that my oxygen supply had been cut off, rendering me helpless. My opponents knew my weakness and used it against me. Nothing fair about it. I didn’t want to admit it, but Neptune was right. I’d falsely assumed I could defend myself without too much effort, and my false sense of confidence had worked against me. “Go again,” he said. He bent his knees slightly and prepared for my attack. I swung my arms forward and backward, giant half circles to limber up my shoulders, and felt a seam tear. “Hold on. Uniform malfunction. Moon Unit Corporation thinks they can cut corners by using a different supplier, but the last six uniforms I tested fell apart.” “Where?” “Shoulder.” “Turn around.” I turned and pointed to where I’d felt the split. “What am I supposed to tell them this time? ‘Looks good but you can’t throw a girly punch’?” I felt Neptune tug the split fabric together. Even though I wasn’t looking at him, just the graze of his fingertips against my shoulder blade made me flush. “Why are you wasting your time with uniforms?” “Someday the name ‘Sylvia Stryker’ will be synonymous with space uniforms. After our trip to Venus, the publicity company who planned the hype around the Moon Units contacted me to wear test their prototypes. It’s a little cash on the side between treks and all things considered, I can use the money. I can’t crash here forever.” I knew Neptune wouldn’t pursue the conversation. He understood my predicament: no planet, no family, no home. He was with me the night space pirates destroyed everything I’d ever known. The only reason I agreed to train with him was because there’s a certain security in spending time with someone who prioritized silence over small talk. I could learn a lot from Neptune and I knew it. He could learn from me too. I wasn’t sure he knew that. Yet. Neptune’s loner lifestyle suited him, but I was glad that he begrudgingly allowed me to coexist on his property. Not one to mooch, I made sure to bring what I could to the table. Enter Mattix Dusk, space courier (and my Hapkido instructor) who traveled between the thirteen colonies under Federation Control, to pick up and deliver anything that needed to be picked up or delivered. I introduced the two men and they worked out a mutually acceptable deal. Mattix had use of the helipad and a place to crash while on the Kuiper Belt. Neptune had access to Mattix’s courier contacts and suppliers. And for the foreseeable future, I had not one but two mentors who could further my education. Where Neptune was tall, tawny, and solid muscle, Mattix looked like a piece of worn leather in loose-fitting castoff clothes. Tanned skin, bleached hair worn in a ponytail, and ragamuffin clothes suited him. His job as courier put him in front of shady characters, and he passed along his two most important pieces of advice: look like you have less than the other guy and learn to take care of yourself. Whatever direction my lesson was supposed to go was interrupted by a swiftly approaching space pod. I looked at the sky and watched it glide toward us. It was the Dusk Driver, the space pod that belonged to Mattix. I smiled and waved while backing up so he could land. As his space pod drew closer, alarm bells rang out from the nearby towers. His speed was too fast. He was going to crash. And if I didn’t get out of the way, I’d burn up in the wreckage. Neptune reached the same conclusion before I did. How do I know? When I tore my attention from the incoming space pod to tell Neptune something was wrong, I saw him charge toward me. The impact knocked me to the ground. Either Neptune knew what was happening and wanted to save me, or he was trying to make a point. From the bank of dirt alongside the helipad, the space pod jerked to a halt and then hovered two feet above the ground. Mattix knew better than to approach at the speed he had, but he’d compensated for the potential accident by activating the ship’s invisible buffer: a two foot “bumper” of static electricity that kept the exterior from contacting another surface. It operated much the same way as two magnets held in close proximity. The dueling forcefields pushed away from each other, making it impossible to touch. Mattix wouldn’t have activated the buffer shield unless something was wrong. I scrambled to my feet and, keeping my center of gravity low, approached the space pod. Mattix wouldn’t allow anyone else to navigate the ship without reason, which made what I saw even scarier. The ship was being flown on autopilot. _______________________________________ “It is set in outer space, but keeps a true cozy mystery vibe to it at the same time.” – Reader “Hijacked on a Moon Trek was another fantastic addition to this series! Sylvia and the gang are back in what is quite possibly the best installment yet. This series is quickly becoming one of my favorites. I can't get enough of it!” – Reader “This was the best in the series so far, with added depth in backstories for several of the characters.” – Reader For fans of Star Trek, Star Wars, Dune, UFO, The Orville, Galaxy Quest, Lost in Space, and The Jetsons. Diane-Fans describe “her vintage Vallere goodness,” and say she is a “great storyteller” with “a way with creating strong female characters and intrigue” who is “a superb and very humorous writer.” Her gift of creating “spunky sleuths in fun settings” take readers to Dallas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, Pennsylvania, and outer space.

Set phasers to cozy in this humorous outer space series starter readers are calling Veronica Mars meets Star Trek. (Or is it Judy Jetson meets Stephanie Plum? You decide!) Sylvia Stryker has no business being on the next Moon Unit Cruise Line, unless you count aspirations and dreams. The career that once felt within her reach—Intergalactic Cruise Ship Security—disappeared the day her dad was arrested for collusion with space pirates. Since then, she’s begrudgingly been running the ice mine for her aging mother, the two of them social pariahs amongst their fellow Plunians. Everything changes when the uniform lieutenant position on Moon Unit 6 opens up days before departure. Sylvia immediately puts her hacking skills to use, uploading bogus credentials onto the crew manifest. Now to just lay low, do her job, and impress the new boss. Her plan goes off without a hitch until a non-celestial body falls from the uniform inventory closet after departure. Reporting it means drawing attention, the very opposite of laying low. When the head of security shows up to investigate and throws her into the spaceship holding cell, her onboard status shifts from staff to prisoner. If Sylvia can’t expose the killer herself, she’ll be bunking with her dad at the local space prison. National bestselling author Diane Vallere sends you out of this world alongside the uniform lieutenant on an intergalactic cruise with and a dead body and plenty of suspects! What readers are saying: “I really enjoyed this mixture of science fiction and cozy mystery.” “I loved how Vallere combined science fiction, mystery, drama, and humor making this book very enjoyable and hard to put down.” “I gave it a try simply because the author was Diane Vallere….I'm so glad I did….Just as you would expect, this is a totally FUN murder mystery that doesn't disappoint!” “It's like Sherlock Holmes in space... but better!” “I loved this mystery set in space.” “It is a murder mystery. It is a spy story. It is a futuristic science fiction story. It is pure genius and entertaining from start to finish.” “It's as if Star Trek married a cozy...very well done! Read and enjoy!” It's not easy being purple, especially when you're trapped on a spaceship with people who want to arrest you for a crime you didn't commit...and the one who did. Murder on a Moon Trek is the quirky first novel featuring uniform lieutenant Sylvia Stryker. If you like unique characters, delightful plots, and cool futuristic fashion, you'll love Diane Vallere's entertaining interstellar series. Previously published as FLY ME TO THE MOON. Is it a cozy mystery set in space, or an outer space with a cozy mystery? You decide! CHAPTER ONE EXCERPT: When Moon Unit 5 kicked off its inaugural trip from my home planet of Plunia, I expected the uniform closet to be stuffed to capacity. I just hadn’t expected it to be stuffed with a body. But here we were, light years from the space station where we’d departed, and instead of a closet of freshly laundered uniforms, I had a dead man. No matter how thoroughly I'd planned for today, I never could have planned for this. Maybe he wasn’t dead. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he’d had a late night partying before today’s departure and crawled into my uniform closet to take a nap. As unlikely as that explanation was, I wasn’t yet willing to accept the more probable reality. I knelt next to him and checked for a pulse on the side of his neck. His skin was cold to the touch, which was either due to his not-alive state or the twenty-degree difference between earthling temperatures (his) and Plunian temperatures (mine). In this case, it was both. No pulse, no breathing. A Code Blue. Moon Unit Corporation ran a fleet of cruise spaceships whose mission was to provide relaxing getaways to one of our galaxy’s moons. Ever since I’d learned they were reopening after years of inactivity, I’d fantasized about working for them. The fact that I’d hacked my records into their system was a minor technicality. My job was to manage the uniforms during the moon trek, and as long as I did my job and avoided ship security, my fantasy would become a reality. But this was bigger than managing uniforms. Regardless of the risks to me, I had to contact the bridge. I could send a general message over the staff communication network. I stepped away from the pile of spilled uniforms and shifted to the computer that sat above the console in the middle of the room. It was standard issue, a flat black folio with colorful buttons and a low-definition screen. Only the top members of the ship and paying passengers were given high-def equipment. For the rest of us, it was the bare minimum, Moon Unit Corporation’s way of making sure distractions didn’t surround us. To the right side of the computer was a clear plastic dome that protected a shiny red button that, despite learning about during emergency protocol training, I’d hoped never to have to use. This was a button message. I flipped the dome up and pressed the button. “Uniform Ward to the bridge. Lieutenant Sylvia Stryker reporting. There’s a situation in my ward.” “What kind of situation?” asked a female voice. It sounded like my immediate supervisor, Yeoman D’Nar. There was no official reason for her to be on the bridge during departure, but senior officers of the ship were given an open invitation to witness the launch with Captain Swift. D’Nar was exactly the type to insert herself where she wasn’t wanted. “I’m pretty sure it’s a Code Blue.” Pretty sure? I was completely sure. There was no doubt I was looking at a Code Blue. “Don’t be reckless. A Code Blue is serious. I think you made a mistake.” I bristled at her accusation but kept my voice in check. “It’s not a mistake. I memorized the codes last night.” “I don’t think you have a Code Blue. Check the BOP and report in as applicable.” The BOP—Book of Protocols—was a 237-page manual that outlined the proper method for handling everything from hydrating vacuum-packed meals to subordination expectations between low-level officers and high-ranking ones. Every ship in the galaxy had a BOP. Crew members were expected to know the rules and regulations of the ship, but the BOP existed as a backup when something unexpected happened. I picked up a small hand mirror from the nearby uniform alterations station and held it in front of the officer’s mouth. No condensation. Code Blue, alright. I hadn’t been lying about having memorized the list of codes from the BOP. I’d bought a used copy of an old Book of Protocols from the black market and studied it from cover to cover. No doubt it was outdated. The Moon Units 1-3 had had their share of trouble, and the problems with the Moon Unit 4 were still classified, but I had to start somewhere. I flipped through the pages of the Moon Unit 5 BOP, looking for an updated list of warning codes. Because my knowledge had come from the old BOP, I’d created a finding tool: a cross-reference of everything in the old manual and where to find it in the new one. I’d also had a copy of the BOP made and organized it the way I would if I were in charge of ship security. Someday, I would be. When people stopped judging me by what my dad had done before they arrested him and took him away. But today wasn’t someday, and even though the bridge blew off my call, I still had a problem that had nothing to do with uniform management. I studied the deceased officer. Who was he? A quick assessment of his uniform indicated his position and rank: red shirt, two bands circling his cuff, standard issue black pants, and gravity boots. Second navigation officer of Moon Unit 5. There were no visible wounds to indicate how he’d died. He wasn’t wearing an air purification helmet like I was, so I disconnected my inhalation tube from the oxygen tank under my uniform, held the tube in front of his mouth, and sniffed. Cherries and menthol. I reconnected the tube and then put my hand under his chin and opened his mouth wide. His tongue had a stripe of bright red down the middle like he’d been sucking on a throat lozenge. It was common practice among crew members during takeoff because frequent swallowing kept ears from plugging up. “What are you doing?” said a voice behind me. I turned my head and bumped my protective fiberglass bubble helmet on the closet door. My helmet bounced off the surface. I blinked a few times and then looked up. Uh-oh. Even if I’d been face to face with the man in the uniform ward, he would have towered over me. He had a bald head and dark, pointed eyebrows that shielded dark eyes. Long, straight nose and lips that were drawn in a line and turned down on the sides. His arms crossed in front of his body, and his biceps bulged below the hem of the short sleeves of his dark blue jumpsuit. My mind flashed over a series of facts and images I’d memorized before my official first day, and I reached one conclusion. This man was from the maintenance crew. My know-it-all boss must have told him I called in the wrong code and sent him here to clean up whatever mess I’d caused. “I’m Sylvia Stryker. I spoke with Yeoman D’Nar about a Code Blue. Did she send you?” He looked over my shoulder at the body. “Move,” he said. I stood quickly. The action triggered a bout of vertigo. I put my hand on my counter just behind where I’d left the open Book of Protocols. Yikes! If this guy saw that I’d torn apart and rearranged the protocol manual, he’d report me to ship security without a second thought. I moved a few inches to the left and turned around to block his view of the counter. “They must have notified you. You’re with maintenance, right?” His expression didn’t change. “I haven’t heard anything about a Code Blue.” “Oh.” I looked over my shoulder to where I’d moved the body. “Maybe the bridge was busy with takeoff.” Unlike my uniform, the muscular man’s didn’t have the Moon Unit insignia—a silver number 5 surrounded by circles on their axis like the rings around Saturn, all contained in an orange patch edged in black thread. It was the same insignia on my ID card and woven into the carpet in the employee lounge and on the cover of the BOP and every single uniform in the inventory closet. But it wasn’t on him. Still, the deceased officer deserved to be in a more honorable location than the inventory closet and I needed help moving him. But since there was the tiniest chance that ship security would uncover the fact that I hadn’t indeed been hired through proper channels and might be viewed as a stowaway on board the ship, I’d planned to lay low until we’d cleared the breakaway point in our moon trek. Maybe Yeoman D’Nar’s lack of urgency was a blessing in disguise. “He’s dead,” I said. “How?” “I don’t know. He was inside the uniform closet when I got here. I checked for a pulse but couldn’t find it.” “You need to notify the bridge.” “Well, duh,” I said. “I probably know the ship protocols better than you do. I contacted the bridge and told Yeoman D’Nar I had a Code Blue, but she didn’t believe me.” I looked at the body over the large man’s shoulder. “Can you help me move him? I have to prep for departure, and I can’t do that while he’s blocking my inventory.” The man’s back was to me, but he turned his head to the side so I could see his profile. His eyebrow raised again. He slipped his arms under the officer’s neck and knees and then stood up and lifted him like he was lifting a bag of potatoes. Plunia was filled with potato farms, and when I wasn’t working in the ice mines with my mom, I’d often played in the potato fields. I was pretty sure Plunian potatoes weighed a lot less than the second nav officer. The maintenance man set the body on the reclining bench alongside the inside wall of the uniform ward. He draped a dressing gown over him, covering his face and red shirt. The dressing gown was only so long, though, so the officer’s bottom half still showed. “Your ward is off limits,” the maintenance man said. “No!” I said. “I mean, this is my job on the ship. I expect today to be slow because everybody is probably wearing their best uniform, but still, if I don’t open the uniform ward, the crew will ask questions.” “Do you have something to hide?” he asked. I crossed my arms over my magenta uniform. “You ask a lot of questions for a janitor.” He seemed surprised, and then his lips pressed together, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “Why do you think I’m the janitor?” “I don’t recognize your uniform, and I know all the different ones on the ship. The only people on the ship wearing uniforms that don’t come from my ward are the janitorial crew.” The cabin doors swished open and a man in gray walked in. “Neptune, Captain Swift is waiting for you in engineering. He says the crack isn’t sealed.” “Neptune?” I asked. I looked back and forth between the new guy and the one who’d been asking all the questions. “I thought Neptune was the head of Moon Unit security division?” “I am,” the original man said. Oh, no. I’d heard about Neptune. He was the one person I’d been hoping to avoid. ---------------------------------------------- For fans of Star Trek, Star Wars, Dune, UFO, The Orville, Galaxy Quest, Lost in Space, and The Jetsons...who also like Hallmark Mysteries. Diane-Fans describe “her vintage Vallere goodness,” and say she is a “great storyteller” with “a way with creating strong female characters and intrigue” who is “a superb and very humorous writer.” Her gift of creating “spunky sleuths in fun settings” take readers to Dallas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, Pennsylvania, and outer space.

Enjoy this humorous cozy mystery with a fashionable amateur sleuth and a mystery connected to the past set in Las Vegas by national bestselling author Diane Vallere. Can Samantha keep calm and carry on? Samantha Kidd is gobsmacked by the wins in her life. Steady job: check. Great guy: check. Inner peace: closer than she’s been in a while. But when the British invasion arrives in the form of new business owners, her checked boxes tumble. Her retail employer sells out, her coworkers go on strike, and her husband is out of the country. When a union representative is found dead outside the store, the bottom falls out. Samantha’s reluctant mentor, Detective Loncar, warns her to stay out of the investigation, but even he has something to hide. Between a cop bar, a life coach, and a blue line that's anything but thin, Samantha's teacup runneth over. It’s time for Samantha to spill some tea…or risk being royally screwed. National bestselling author Diane Vallere brings you British style in this humorous edgy cozy mystery featuring amateur detective Samantha Kidd. Union Jacked is the ninth in the Killer Fashion mystery series, although each book can be read as a standalone. For fans of Jess Lourey, Donna Andrews, and Ellen Byron, if you like cop drama, and secrets from the past, and poking fun at England, then you’ll love this hilarious mystery. Diane-Fans describe “her vintage Vallere goodness,” and say she is a “great storyteller” with “a way with creating strong female characters and intrigue” who is “a superb and very humorous writer.” Her gift of creating “spunky sleuths in fun settings” take readers to Dallas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, Pennsylvania, and outer space.

Enjoy this humorous cozy locked room mystery with a fashionable amateur detective and a cast of quirky characters by national bestselling author Diane Vallere… All that glitters isn’t gold When Samantha Kidd’s jewel of a husband, shoe designer Nick Taylor, is named a finalist for Designer of the Year at an industry function, Samantha sponsors a banquet table and invites close friends and family to the celebration. But by the time the night arrives, most of them aren’t on speaking terms. Even romance with Nick suffers thanks to his dad’s move into the couple’s spare bedroom. Before the cash bar closes, the toastmaster’s body is found with a gilded knife in her chest. What should have been a golden evening becomes a 24-karat disaster, and brutal weather conditions keep the cops at bay. Locked in a ballroom with two hundred suspects and seven angry tablemates, Samantha’s got just four hours to take a stab at solving the murder…before the murderer stabs again. Gilt Trip is the fourteenth humorous Killer Fashion cozy mystery featuring amateur sleuth and fashion expert Samantha Kidd, although each book in the series can be read as a standalone. For fans of Julie Mulhern, Sophie Kinsella, and Leighann Dobbs, if you like tense circumstances, fair-play whodunits, and humorous family dynamics, you’ll love this funny, stranded-in-a-hotel-in-a-snowstorm mystery. Diane-Fans describe “her vintage Vallere goodness,” and say she is a “great storyteller” with “a way with creating strong female characters and intrigue” who is “a superb and very humorous writer.” Her gift of creating “spunky sleuths in fun settings” take readers to Dallas, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, Pennsylvania, and outer space.