This is book two in the Nerds Saving the World Series. Originally published as A View to a Kilt.
Madison West appears on Peter Quincy’s doorstep as expected, when her husband, Charlie, disappears. Peter had been her husband’s best man and had promised to take care of Madison if something happened to him. Neither Madison nor Peter are what they seem, but will their lies to each other to save the world, instead fail to save them from each other?
diehard Nittany Lions fan. In fact, she bleeds Penn State Blue! Her
dream is to get her Masters in Education degree and teach creative
writing at Penn State.
Redding that would probably surprise you!
She knows the name of the drummer in just about every band from the 70s and 80s.
She once interviewed to drive the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile.
Back when she was a bartender, she served a scotch to Mike Tyson’s divorce lawyer.
For one game, she’d like to be the person who squirts Gatorade into football player’s mouth at a Penn State game. Even if she’d need
a stool to do it.
She can say the alphabet backwards more easily after she’s had something to drink.
View to a Nerd
Waking up next to a dead guy can ruin your whole day.At least interior decorator Miriam Stokes’ thought so.The Philadelphia Police Detective whose name she
couldn’t remember talked soothingly to her, making her feel, not
better, but at least calmer.As calm as anyone could feel after finding a dead body.
How did she get herself into these things?Sipping coffee Miriam didn’t remember asking for, she
eyed the cop as they sat in a flowered living room. Her friend Joe’s
neighbor owned said living room. The friend she just found dead.She tried to keep eye contact with Detective. . .Dasher,
Dancer? Some reindeer name.She could see him clearly now, her vision returning to
normal.“So you woke up and he was dead. Didn’t you hear a
shot?”After swallowing the scalding liquid, she answered him.
“No detective. I do sleep very soundly, but I think I had help from
this bump on the side of my head.”To indicate the injury, she pulled away the bag of ice
she held to her head. The ice had appeared sometime after the first
patrolman. The lump began to throb, but Donner only glanced at her
head. Instead, he scribbled some notes in a small pad.How many murders does one have to see to get so
matter-of-fact about them? Miriam shuddered.“Could I at least get dressed? I feel a little
vulnerable in my pajamas,” she told him.Donner. The detective had introduced himself as Donner.
He looked her over as if making a decision. He nodded, glancing
around the apartment. “Do you have any clothes?”She nodded towards Joe’s apartment.“When they remove. . .” he murmured, then grimaced.
She caught his meaning.He turned his brown eyes back to her. “We’ll work
things out. I just have a few more questions for you. Then we’ll go
downtown.”Miriam nodded. Who would do this to Joe?“How long have you known the deceased?”