Without A Clue

Without A Clue
Trish Jensen

What do you mean your house?Since her aborted wedding, Meg Renshaw's thrown everything into her work. But her latest brainstorm–a mystery weekend at a Charleston plantation–hits a few bumps. For one, her "corpse" has passed out on pain pills. One guest is a cat. And the owner of the house walks in, claiming their lease is invalid.Luckily, Meg's got a persuasive bent and she sweet-talks Matt Rossi into becoming the new corpse. With that item checked off, she's ready to move on. Until she discovers the uptight, controlling corpse refuses to stay murdered and has just turned her plans for the weekend upside down.And then he starts demanding some other rights….

Dear Reader,

I’m a Court TV and crime-drama junkie. I also learned from my family that laughter is an essential ingredient in life. Call me weird, you won’t be the first. But I have this horrible problem with wanting to inject humor into everything. In fact, when I first began submitting work to publishers, they kept telling me that I made them laugh in inappropriate places.

Trust me, I took the hint, and decided murder and laughter didn’t mix. Then I got feisty. There had to be a happy medium. Thus, Without a Clue was born, where I could have a murder mystery that’s gone horribly wrong. Or wonderfully right, if you’re a lover of lovers.

So this book is a nod to all of the things that float my boat. Love, laughter, murder, mayhem and a mystery with no possible solution except to decide everyone’s guilty of something.

I wish you all plenty of love, plenty of mayhem, plenty of reading and plenty of fun!

Trish Jensen

“What now?” Matt asked, his voice a little gravelly as he turned from the open doorway in the bedroom

“We…uh, explore the secret passageway?”

He sort of liked that Meg put it in the form of a question. It left open other possibilities.

Matt checked his watch. “Probably not enough time right now. We have to get me ready to be murdered.”

Her eyes took on a wicked light. “Now the good times are starting to roll.”

“A guy could develop a complex,” he said, but he let her go.

She showed him how to close the secret passageway again, and they returned to the bedroom suite.

“Let’s check the weapon,” Meg said, reaching for the stage knife.

“Bloodthirsty little wench, aren’t you?”

She smiled. “You betcha.”

Without a Clue

Trish Jensen

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Trish Jensen once wanted to be famous. But she decided to be a writer instead.

Life is still sweet. She lives in the gorgeous mountains of central Pennsylvania with the love of her life, Ross, and the banes of her existence, dog Cassie and cat Foxy.

E-mail is welcome at trishjensen@earthlink.net. Or you are welcome to yell at her editor at the Harlequin address. Send snail mail c/o MTH, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

This book is dedicated with much love to a bunch of loopy women who help me wake up with a smile every single day. Humor is such a powerful thing. Thank you, ladies (you, of course, know who you are) for empowering me constantly.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

1

“OUR CORPSE IS DRUNK.”

Megan Renshaw glanced up from the script before her. Her assistant, Tina Brown, stood at the entrance to the study of the old Charleston plantation. “Pardon me?”