Sunday, November 15, 2020

Book Tour: Nancy Lynn Jarvis's Murder Mystery The Funeral Murder





In The Glass House, the first book in the PIP Inc. Mysteries series Pat Pirard, recently downsized Santa Cruz Law Librarian, needed to find a new job in a hurry. She printed business cards announcing she was Private Investigator Pat and crossed her fingers, hoping she could earn enough money working for attorneys as a PI to survive.

Pat’s first investigation went well, so she’s excited when she gets a call from an estate attorney who offers her a second job. The attorney tells Pat his client died at a funeral and he needs help sorting out who is entitled to inherit her estate. 

Pat quickly discovers the dead woman’s past is as complicated as her estate. And when an autopsy indicates she had two deadly toxins in her body when she died, Pat’s new case becomes not only complicated, but dangerous. 

  
  



Nancy Lynn Jarvis left the real estate profession after she started having so much fun writing the Regan McHenry Real Estate Mysteries series that she let her license lapse. She’s enjoyed writing about Regan and her husband, Tom, but decided it was time to do a new series.

PIP Inc. introduces protagonist downsized law librarian and not-quite-licensed Private Investigator Pat Pirard. “The Funeral Murder” is the second book in the series.

After earning a BA in behavioral science from San Jose State University, Nancy worked in the advertising department of the San Jose Mercury News. A move to Santa Cruz meant a new job as a librarian and later a stint as the business manager for Shakespeare/Santa Cruz at UCSC.

Currently she’s enjoying being a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and Santa Cruz Women of Mystery. 





Excerpt #1

As the minister began speaking, Vivian leaned toward Mario. “I don’t feel well. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

“You can’t disturb…”

Anne leaned forward, and in a whisper loud enough to project beyond Mario asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I feel a little sick and fluttery, like my heart’s racing.”

“It’s the lidocaine. Some people react to it with a rapid heartbeat. It will go away in a couple of minutes. Tough it out.”

Vivian looked from her stepdaughter to her husband, who took her hand and pressed his lips together. “Anne’s right. Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s getting worse,” Vivian whispered urgently.

“It’s just your imagination,” Anne retorted.

“Lean against me and try to relax,” Mario instructed.

“No, really. It’s not my imagination. I…I can’t catch my breath,” she panted.

“Vivian, you’re working yourself up so much that you’re having a panic attack,” Anne whispered forcefully. She moved both of her hands up and down in a slow rhythm. “Only take a breath when my hands touch my lap. It’s not a paper bag to breathe in, but it will work if you follow my lead and do it.”

“No. I really…I need help.” Vivian clutched her chest and gasped. “Oh, it hurts!” She tried to rise, but instead of standing she collapsed face down into the church’s center aisle. 





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