Now that I’ve recovered from turkey, trimmings, and typing, I’m back. It’s been a long couple of months, but the work has paid off — figuratively, at least.  I won National Novel Writing Month, have an 83,000-word book to show the world, and even managed to get that pesky Christmas tree decorated.  (I don’t have to undecorate it yet, do I?) Lucky Thirteen – my first adult novel – consumed the dreary days of winter.  I’ll be posting a few teasers soon, so stay tuned.  Meanwhile, here’s a tidbit from this non-political thriller featuring – you guessed it! – a linguist.

When Dr. Danny Jones finds her girlfriend dead at her doorstep and a cryptic message from an old colleague in her apartment, she knows something is wrong.  Danny’s lost her university job, gotten kicked out of the FBI’s Special Agent training program, and – just when things can’t get worse – she’s the only link between two deaths in Washington, DC. With the police looking closely at her knowledge of Arabic, her suspicious circle of academic colleagues, and her unexplained wealth, Danny has no choice but to run. Now, Danny has three assets: a pile of her dead colleague’s love letters from a mysterious woman; an old friend with a secretive background in cryptography; and a puzzling lead from a psychologist who may not be as innocent as he appears. As she deciphers a string of linguistic clues, Danny discovers that she herself was (and still is) the target of a madman on a shocking mission. With the help of two former NSA employees, Danny must put her full arsenal of language skills to the test and find the killer before he catches up with her – and her new partner. The race has begun. Danny Jones needs to place first.

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