Running out of money,
Diana Poole is forced to go back to the only work she knows: acting. Her
much-loved husband and movie-star mother have died, and now Diana is
over thirty-five. In Hollywood that means she might as well be dead.
Still, a few key people remember her talent, and she lands a role in a
new movie. But an actress should never get her hopes up, especially when
she discovers the female lead's murdered body. Raised in her mother's
shadow, Diana knows people in "the business"will go to dangerous lengths
to protect their images. When her own life and career are threatened,
Diana decides to fight back and find the killer. But unmasking the
surprising murderer isn't that easy, especially when she uncovers what's
real--and unreal--in her own life.
When I first received the book and looked at the cover, I noticed that it said it was a “Diana Poole Thriller” so I kind of knew at that moment that
this book is part of a series. I have never read any books with that
character in them so I don’t know if the story is a continuation of one
or not, but from what I had read within the first four chapters, I am hooked
on this series of books.
I really enjoyed this story and the other
characters in the book as well, but I really liked the main character
“Diana Poole”; I found she was very intelligent , yet she also had a
“smart-ass” sense of humor and I really enjoyed that. Had it not been
for me knowing that it was a made up story, I would have thought that
this was a true story and that I was living and witnessing first-hand
what was taking place.
I think Ms. Howe is a wonderful author and I
can’t wait to see what other books she puts out with this “Diana”
character. Although I have never read any of Ms. Howe’s books before I never felt like I was missing any information or plots from other stories or characters. I can’t wait for another of Melodie Johnson Howe’s books to come out. I give her and this book an “A.”
*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Tiffany
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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
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