Peggy Webb
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Every year, a hip-shaking herd of Elvis impersonators descends upon the King's birthplace of Tupelo, Mississippi, for the annual Elvis festival. Usually the main attractions are lot of sequined jumpsuits and even more off-key singing, but this year something much more deadly has the town all shook up…

When the first Elvis impersonator is found slumped over his piano, a heart attack seems the likely suspect. But when a second keels over mid-swagger at Callie Valentine Jones's party, suspicious minds begin to wonder if something foul is afoot. Because everyone knows two dead Elvis impersonators add up to only one thing: murder.

As it turns out, Callie's cousin Lovie-a 190-pound bombshell who's had more lovers than the King had hit records-turns out to be suspect #1. Callie knows she's innocent but to prove it, she and Lovie will have to find out who the real killer is. Could it be Texas Elvis, who's sworn to out-swivel his rivals? Maybe the female Elvis from Australia, with the fake sideburns? Or one of the endlessly bickering officers of the fan club?

It's a mystery fit for a King, and with a little help from Callie's hunk-a-burnin' love ex Jack, and her talented hound dog Elvis-who's convinced he's the true reincarnation of the King-Callie and Lovie are determined to have the killer singing Jailhouse Rock. But they need to move fast and be ready for the killer's next move, because their chance may be now…or never!

Excerpt

Elvis Opinion #1 on Impersonators, the Valentine Family, and Fried Pigskins

If you ask me, all these impersonators running around Tupelo in sequined jumpsuits could use remedial voice lessons. Nobody can hold a candle to the King. That would be me, though these days I could pass through a crowd unnoticed if it weren’t for my pink bow tie. I also wanted to wear my black pompadour to the Elvis Festival, but Callie (my human mom) said basset hounds look silly in toupees.

What does she know? Don’t get me wrong. She’s the best human mom a dog could have, but she can’t even keep her own life straight, much less mine. If she’d seek my sage advice, I’d tell her to stop trying to take care of the world (and that includes picking up stray dogs and cats as well as loaning money to everybody with a sob story who walks into her beauty shop). Mostly, though I’d tell her to stop divorce proceedings.

If any two people belong together, it’s Callie and Jack (my human daddy). She says they split over his Harley Screamin’ Eagle, but I know better. They split because she wants a family and he’s worried about having children and then getting shot and leaving them fatherless.

Of course, he’s never told Callie the truth because he’s never even told her about his real profession – and if I told you, I’d have to kill you. Suffice it to say, Jack Jones makes Rambo look timid.

Callie and Jack are at an impasse and “All Shook Up.” At the rate things are going, it looks like I’ll be punted between them for the next three years. Like a pigskin.

Speaking of which, I think I’ll mosey on over to the refreshment booth and see what’s cooking. Fried pigskins, for one thing. Lovie’s in charge. She shares my opinion that the body ought to be primed with sugar and fat...

The second book in the Southern Cousins Mystery Series!

Start Reading ELVIS AND THE GRATEFUL DEAD Now

Southern Cousins

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