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Bounty hunter Stephanie Plum has been given the task of bringing in Maxine Nowicki. It should be a straightforward job. Maxine has a clean record and she only “stole” her boyfriend’s car. But Maxine proves strangely elusive. Stephanie’s job gets harder when Joyce Barnhardt, a new bounty hunter, starts tracking Maxine as well. Stephanie and Joyce have been rivals before, when Joyce was banging Stephanie’s husband. Stephanie is determined that she’s not going to lose this time. With the help of Lula the giant ex-prostitute; Sally the drag queen; Morelli, everyone’s favorite Italian cop; and Ranger, everyone’s favorite Cuban bounty hunter extraordinaire, Stephanie just might be able to get her woman.
I always remember that I love this series, but somehow in between books, I forget exactly how much I love them. It doesn’t take me long to remember. This is how this one played out.
My husband was cooking something for me (he’s great that way), and I cracked this book open just to take a quick glance. And I started reading. And grinning. On the first page. My husband said my name (I think only once, but I can’t be sure), and when I looked up at him, he asked, “Wow, what is that grin all about?” Me: “I forgot how much I love Stephanie Plum!” and with a giggle and a little wiggle of glee, I dove back into the book, at least until my grilled cheese was ready. I am a giggler, but I’m not a wiggler. Stephanie brings it out in me. Or should I say Morelli? *winkwinknudgenudge*
My giggles and wiggles continued throughout the book. I’ve enjoyed the entire series so far, but I did like this one a little more than Three to Get Deadly. Grandma Mazur doesn’t have as large a role here, and I did miss her, but Lula stepped up her game and Sally the drag queen stepped into the limelight. They all just crack me up! Seriously!
Morelli is smokin’ hot in this book. For serious. There were times when I was fanning myself and cheering Stephanie on. I think mostly in my head, but again, I can’t promise that. In the last few pages, my husband had to look at me again. “What is it this time?” I was giggling and fanning for all I was worth. “Morelli. Hot. Damn.” And that’s about all I was capable of. My husband is a patient, long-suffering man. He’s used to these little outbursts when I’m reading. He just said, “Oh. Okay,” and went back to Scramble With Friends. He’s learned not to ask for explanations because he will get them.
For a fun read with insane sidekicks and hot leading men, pick up this series. I just have a blast reading them.
Read an excerpt.
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