TITLE: THE LAST RESORT
GENRE: Contemporary Women's
Hints of blackmail, a love child, and her missing life savings lure a down-and-out young widow to Costa Rica in search of her late husband's secrets—and a second chance at happiness.
One year, three months, and two days ago, my husband wrapped his BMW around a tree trunk, forcing me into the role of underage widow and single mom. Though at times I still missed him so much my heart wrenched inside-out, most days I yearned for him to drive back into my life so I could kill him myself. This morning, as I ripped the final foreclosure notice from our hand-carved mahogany front door, I dreamed of slipping cyanide into his single malt scotch.
Sweat trickled down my face as I plotted how I'd wedge the remaining towers of boxes inside the three-car garage into the storage trailer clogging the driveway. Had we moved two years ago, the yard would have been filled with a team of movers and a couple of eighteen wheelers. Now, except for the small stash of plastic bins and suitcases lingering in the cool foyer, the remnants of our life could fit into a single twelve-foot portable aluminum box.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pictured Mom, feather duster in hand, belting out “I Am Woman” in her version of '70s housewife karaoke. Yes, I could do this. Since I sing like a goat, I hummed while I hoisted an oversized stack of boxes from the ground and sidestepped towards the trailer. I could do anything. I was strong. I was invincible. I was—caught on a weed rising between the pavers. Before I could spit out a swear, I toppled face first to the ground.