Randolph Percy was a true southern gentleman whose lucrative game was beautiful, rich ladies of a certain age. But when the elderly bon vivant is found murdered, unstoppable Atlanta journalist Samantha Adams uncovers a dangerous scandal that has exploded into murder!
Writing as Alice Storey, Shankman first introduced Atlanta journalist/detective Samantha Adams in this critically acclaimed mystery. When a distinguished attorney is found murdered, Sam delves into a scandal of dirty money and adultry that stretches from Atlanta's society salons to the saloons of...
The fourth suspenseful mystery starring ace crime reporter Sam Adams--from the author of First Kill All the Lawyers. Sam has just turned 40, and the last thing she wants to do is cover the Miss America Pageant. But in Atlantic City, Sam discovers what's beautiful and what's deadly when an obnoxio...
Sarah Shankman has been acclaimed as an "Elmore Leonard with a Southern accent" (Lia Matera), who "catches the dark, joyous eccentricity of the American South better than any writer since Pat Conroy" (Anne Rivers Siddons). Now Sarah Shankman's savvy amateur sleuth and former crime reporter Samant...
With fascinating characters and pungent dialogue, this spirited, rollicking mystery crackles with danger and excitement when Atlanta journalist/detective Samantha Adams accepts an invitation to visit the Big Easy--New Orleans at the height of Mardi Gras.
The old Colt revolver, a smaller version of the ones cowboys drew from their hips in the Saturday Westerns, was at the ready, just in case. “In case of what?” I asked again and again with a child’s insistence. The gun nestled beside a small square cigar box, the repository for each and every silv...
The restaurant was part of that great singles swamp at Fillmore and Filbert they called the Bermuda Triangle, but the hamburger on baguette with grilled onions was worth it. Lola ordered a bottle of Mirassou champagne to wash it down. “Why not?” she said. “We deserve it. To Meeting Cute.” She toa...
Emma’s dream shifted; someone was tap-dancing. Clickety, clickety, click—her unconscious heard the rain as time-steps. In the small yard, squirrels chittered to one another about the falling water. Would it wash away the nuts they’d hidden so carefully in the redwood siding that covered the small...