Almost Perfect

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LIZ SUTTON HAD ALWAYS KNOWN the past would come back and bite her in the butt-she just hadn’t known it was going to happen today.

Her morning had started normally enough, with getting her son on the bus to school, then going down the hall to her home office, where she wrote five fairly decent pages before stopping for some serious pacing, followed by deleting three of the last five pages. She was figuring out who to murder in the first chapter of her new book, not to mention how he or she would be murdered. Was decapitation just too predictable? Luckily her assistant knocked on her door, sparing her from making a decision.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Peggy said, frowning slightly as she held out a piece of paper. “But I thought you’d want to read this.”

Liz took the single sheet. It was an e-mail, sent to her Web site. There was a link there for fans to get in touch with her. Peggy handled most of the e-mails, but every now and then she found something she didn’t know what to do with.

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