by Casey Stephens
published by Zebra Books
Copyright 1980
Desperate for money after her husband's death, Nora Bellingham tries to sell her only valuable possession: an antique brooch that her mother left her when she was killed seven years before.
Mysteriously, the brooch changers her fate and Nora finds herself being offered a job as a secretary and housekeeper at the great Porterfield mansion.
As soon as she arrives, Nora has an immediate premonition of danger and disaster. She almost succeeds in putting all fears and worries aside when she discovers that her precious brooch is gone!
Unable to trust anyone, Nora is frightened and alone. And when she finds a hidden family portrait of a woman wearing a necklace that is identical to her brooch she realizes that is more than haunting secrets lurking behind
The
Porterfield
Legacy
Okay, the fashion on this cover is so awful that I want to jump into it and manhandle Mrs. Bellingham into a bra. Any bra. Demi, Punch-up, Plunge, Shelf, hell, perhaps we just need to start with a basic training bra.
Now that her lingerie needs are met, we need to do something drastic with that dress. Something about it reminds me of those 8 millimeter films of late 70's discos that show up on the History or Biography channel when they are talking about someones youth spent in a drug induced haze.
One thing this dress lacks is structure. I'm not saying that we need to whale-bone her or anything, but the sleeves just tumbling down from her shoulders like that does nothing for her but make her head look huge. And, if we are not going to lift those girls up along with that empire waist, we need to forget it all together. A twenty-something shouldn't look like her breast are resting on her stomach.
And it goes without say that she needs her ends trimmed, an eyebrow pencil and I believe she is a medium warm fall, so I don't think that god-awful color works for her.
Now that I have that out of my system, what is up with the cat? I just want to scoop him up, have him checked for ear mites and bring him home with me.
Now, on to my next paper-back treasure.
Thanks to a friend introducing me to this, I am in desperate need to share "Cook to Bang"! A book that teachers us that hot single woman in strappy shoes can not get enough of a man who knows his way around a skillet.
Personally I think Do Dishes to Bang, Pick Up After Yourself to Bang and Put Gas in the Car When it is on E to Bang would be far more affective, but perhaps that is just me.
But cooking works too. And since Mr. Kiss the Cook looks like a complete ass, no doubt he can use all the help he can get.
Oddly, I never even realized that cooking for seduction was even a thing. Though it does help make a certain date I once had make far more sense.
Personally, I don't think he was going to have any problems with the blond or the brunette sitting at his feet anyway.
For the record, I really enjoy the word bang. It really conveys its meaning without resorting to profanity.
