Praise for CBA Bestselling Author
Lori Copeland
â[In A Case of Crooked Letters] Copeland produces a wacky jumble of humorous characters beset by serious circumstances. Joy wins in the end.â
âRomantic Times
â[A Case of Bad Tasteis] a riveting adventure in page-turning mystery and laugh-out-loud humor. Lori Copeland at her best!â
âKaren Kingsbury, bestselling author of the Redemption series
âThe characters in A Case of Bad Tasteare both fun and frustrating, mischievous and maddening. As Maude says, âLifeâs a hoot!ââ
âBrandilyn Collins, author of Stain of Guilt
âFilled with emotion, danger and humor, [Ruth] is sure to warm your heart.â
âRomantic Times
First and foremost, I dedicate this book to the lonely and grieving. God has not forgotten you.
To Bob and Jo Martin: for your continuing ministry in Christ and for your watchful eye on this manuscript.
To Barbara Warren, whose love and commitment to God shows brightly through her work as my assistant and chief troubleshooter.
To Harlequin Enterprises, Joan Marlow Golan and Krista Stroever: for allowing me to be part of the Steeple Hill family.
To the new breed of Christian readers and buyers who encourage authors to write books of faith by buying them!
âWhere was the shoe the last time you saw it?â
Kelli, my youngest daughter, is like her father: charming, practical and witty, with enough savoir faire to carry her through two lifetimes. Sheâd misplaced a sneaker. âNot lost, misplaced,â she wheezed. She uncapped her inhaler, took a deep breath, then released it.
âIn Sailorâs mouth.â
Sailor. Our family pooch that carried off anything that wasnât nailed down. Iâd warned Neil the animal was going to be nothing but trouble when he brought thisâ¦odd-looking creature into our homeârusty black, short legs, very fast, extremely agile. The dog had a domed skull, V-shaped dropped ears, a nose with a straight bridge and large dark brown eyes.
âWhat is that?â Iâd asked.
âA puli. Isnât he cute?â
Cute? That long coat looked to me like forty-five minutes a week of professional grooming to prevent matting and feltingâand the thing was only a pup!
When I protested, my husband had dropped a noncommittal kiss on my forehead and predicted Iâd be in love with Kelliâs fifth birthday present before the week was out. Iâd proved him wrong. Two hours later I was on the floor, wrestling with the heart stealer, falling head over heels in love with the furry troll. Sailor, unfortunately, captured my daughterâs heart, too, but the pet couldnât be around long because Kelliâs asthma turned out to be a problem. As long as she submitted to an allergy shot once a week, the doctor agreed Sailor could stay until my daughter decided between breathing and having a dog in the house.
I was still uncertain about the outcome. Sailor had been here two months, and the bond between animal and child had only grown stronger.
âWhy did you let Sailor carry off your sneaker?â School started in twenty minutes and I still had to pack two lunches and slap on makeup before we left the house.
She lifted thin shoulders. âItâll be all wet with dog slobbers.â
I swiped a lock of long hair out of my face before I turned and dumped coffee into the sink. âRun upstairs and put something on.â
My seven-year-old appeared, dragging her backpack across the tile floor. Kris wasnât a morning person. âHave you seen my math book?â
âNot since last night.â
âI canât find my math book.â She dumped Fruitee Pops into a bowl, grumbling. âSailor must have carried it off.â
The puli skidded around the corner, his nails clicking against the entryâs hardwood floor. I gave the canine a warning look, glanced at the clock and thought, Greatânow Iâm really running behind.
Iâd forgotten to put new batteries in the alarm. It had stormed last night, and the power had gone off. Neil and I had dragged the kids out of bed and traipsed over to the neighbors and spent an hour in their basement until the all-clear siren sounded. Never had Oklahoma experienced so many off-season tornadoes, but the weather was freaky everywhere this year. With dead batteries in the alarm, Iâd overslept. When Iâd awakened and seen the time, Iâd thrown the covers back and sprung out of bed. Neil had rolled out on his side, complaining, blaming me for the late startâlike he didnât know how to replace batteries?
Ten minutes later the love of my life came through the kitchen door muttering under his breath, âSix minutes to shave, eat and get to the station. Fighting fires is easier than getting out of this house on time.â
I handed him a piece of buttered toast and a cup of coffee on his way to the detached garage. He was always cranky during Sooner season. Sooner fever, I called it. The college football team consumed Neil and his friends, and this year the team had an 8â0 record, primed to go for its third league title in four years. Four more wins and the popular Oklahoma Sooners would be one of the teams to play in the Sugar Bowl, the national title game in January.