To the Nines (A Stephanie Plum Novel) by Janet Evanovich

By Janet Evanovich

The number one New York Times Bestselling Author
A Stephanie Plum Novel

Janet Evanovich's novels are the most popular bestsellers in America!
# 1 New York Times
# 1 Wall road Journal
#1 Los Angeles Times
#1 Entertainment Weekly
#1 Publishers Weekly

Stephanie Plum's acquired lease to pay, humans capturing at her, and psychos in need of her lifeless each day of the week (much to the dismay of her mom, her kin, the lads in her existence, the man who slices meat on the deli . . . oh, the record is going on). a standard individual might cave below the pressure.

But whats up, she's from Jersey.

Stephanie Plum is probably not the simplest bounty hunter in attractive downtown Trenton, yet she's beautiful darn stable at turning undesirable occasions her approach . . . and he or she constantly will get her guy. In To the Nines, her cousin Vinnie (who's additionally her boss) has published bail on Samuel Singh, an unlawful immigrant. whilst the elusive Mr. Singh is going lacking, Stephanie is at the case. yet what she uncovers is much extra sinister than somebody imagines and results in a gaggle of killers who provide new intending to the observe hunter.

In a race opposed to time that takes her from the Jersey Turnpike to the Vegas Strip, Stephanie Plum is at the chase of her existence. The unforgettable characters, nonstop motion, high-stakes suspense, and sheer leisure of To the Nines define Janet Evanovich as exact between modern writers.

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Extra resources for To the Nines (A Stephanie Plum Novel)

Sample text

Ranger flashed his lights to make sure I saw him. "Let's talk to the Apusenjas," he said. We drove around the block to Sully Street, parked behind the burgundy Escort, and walked to the door together. Mama Apusenja answered. She was still in the sari and her fat rolls made me think of the Michelin tire guy. "Well," she said to me, with a head wag. "I see you've cleaned yourself up. You must be a terrible burden to your mother. " I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to speak and Ranger leaned into me and rested a hand on my shoulder.

Apusenja led the way upstairs, across the short hallway to a small bedroom. She was wearing pink rubber flip-flops that slapped against her heels and hit the floor at an angle so her heel was always half off the shoe. Her toenails were massive, painted a virulent shimmering purple. I was directly behind her and from my angle her ass looked to be about three feet across. "This is Samuel's room," she said, gesturing to the open door. "It's so sad that it's empty. He was such a nice young man. So polite.

Ranger was his usual silent mysterious self, his thoughts unknown, his attitude provocative. He'd looked me over before taking a chair. " he asked. "I am thinking it must be something sexual," Mrs. Apusenja said. "No one has told me otherwise. " "I am not a slut," I said. " The back door burst open and Vinnie came in like gang-busters, followed by Lula. "Talk to me," Vinnie said to Connie. "Not much to tell. You remember Mrs. Apusenja and her daughter Nonnie. Samuel Singh rented a room in the Apusenja house and they were at the photo session last week.

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