"You can't judge a book by its cover. To look at her, one
would never think suburbanite homemaker Jane Jeffry would
be interested in murder and mayhem. But after all the
corpses she's come across - and killers she's unmasked -
she's practically an expert on the subject. Which is why,
with best buddy Shelley Nowack in tow, Jane's booking down
to a nearby mystery writers' convention to mingle with the
brightest lights of literary crime ... and maybe drum up
some interest in her own recently completed
manuscript." "They're all there: editors, agents,
publishing bigwigs, and famous authors like Jane and
Shelley's personal fave, Felicity Roane. Even Jane's
longtime honey, Detective Mel VanDyne, is a scheduled
guest speaker. Of course there are bound to be some bad
apples in the bunch: macho-malicious literary critic-cum-
snake Zac Zebra, for example, and loudmouth Vernetta
Strausmann, who self-published her despicable whodunit and
successfully hawked it on the Internet." "However, what
would a mystery convention be without a mystery? So one is
graciously supplied when a famous ego-squashing editor
keels over at the speaker's podium, undone by an anonymous
poisoner. And when a much-hated book-bashing journalist is
himself bashed quite nastily in the parking lot, it seems
fairly certain that at least one real-life murder is
stalking the proceedings. But who is he/she/them? The dirt-
dishing, pseudonymous Internet gossip monger "Ms.
Mystery," who's lurking around there somewhere? The local
bookseller who dearly loves "Modern Golden Age" women
writers? The avid reader who seems to know a bit too much
about the personal lives of the famous attendees?" Jane
and Shelley are on the case, ready to snoop, eavesdrop,
and gossip their way to a solution. But the killer they
seek is no open book ... and may turn out to be harder -
and deadlier - to read than they initially imagined.
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