Adrielle Pyper knows how to plan a wedding, and she is especially good at pleasing bridezillas. But when her biggest client and best friend is murdered just three days before the wedding, Adri’s world falls apart. She moves to the resort town of Sun Valley, Idaho, and starts from scratch. Thanks to Adri’s impeccable taste and unique style, she lands two celebrity clients, and her business seems headed for success–that is, until someone vandalizes the specialty wedding dresses she imported from overseas. The race is on to uncover a secret hidden within the yards of satin and lace before Adri becomes the next victim. With a delightful blend of mystery, toe-curling kisses, humor, and spine-tingling thrills, Diamond Rings are Deadly Things is a romantic suspense novel that will keep you turning pages long into the night.
Praise“I love Rachelle J. Christensen’s stories and characters, and Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things is another thrilling mystery to add to my collection. Don’t be surprised if you have to stay up all night to finish he book!” ~Rachel Ann Nunes, author of Before I Say Goodbye
Diamond Rings are Deadly Things pulled me right in from the first page and held me captive until the very end. Great characters, a compelling plot, a surprising twist at the end … Rachelle Christensen knows how to craft a great mystery. ~Tristi Pinkston, author of the Secret Sisters Mysteries
A cunningly crafty mystery with just the right mix of romance. Readers won’t be able to get enough of Adrielle Pyper, stunning party-planner turned heroine. ~Nichole Giles, author of Descendant
She enjoys singing and songwriting, playing the piano, running, motivational speaking, and of course reading. Rachelle has an amazing husband, five cute kids, three cats, and five chickens.
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Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things
“Wait a minute.” Lorea ran her hand along each of the gowns hanging in their individual garment bags. “Please tell me I can’t count.”
“Um, math isn’t my favorite subject either.”
Shaking her head, Lorea began pulling all the packing material from the box.
“There are only nine dresses.” Her chin trembled slightly as she hurriedly recounted the gowns. “One is missing and I think it might be the one with the beaded hemline.”
My throat felt chalky. “The one Sylvia ordered in case she didn’t like her gown?”
Lorea kept pulling packing material out of the box—long strips of brown paper were strewn across the floor. I dropped to the ground and began digging through the box. Then I stood and recounted the gowns.
“Let’s open up each bag and pull them out. Maybe there are two gowns in the same bag.”
Lorea’s eyes lit up with hope. “That’s probably it.”
Neither of us spoke and the sound of plastic and rustling satin covered the dull roar of blood pumping in my ears. We were working against the clock for Sylvia’s wedding and we couldn’t afford to upset her.
“It’s not here. I can’t believe it,” Lorea cried. “Of all the dresses to go missing, it would be Sylvia’s alternate.”
My imagined conversation with the dressmakers took a drastic turn, but I slowly breathed in and out. “You know what? She’s going to love her first choice. You’ll steer her in the right direction. Maybe convince her it would be bad luck to try on the other dress when the first one was obviously designed for her.”
Lorea’s face had red splotches on it and she blinked her eyes to clear the moisture.
I pointed at the gown with the gaping hole. “Let’s concentrate on one problem at a time. I’ll make some calls. You fix the hole. I know you can work with that diva. I’ll back you up.”
I knelt next to the box and began tossing the packing paper back in, but I froze when I focused on something caught in the tape lining the bottom of the box. Leaning forward, I reached for the tiny pearl. Three more beads were stuck in the corner. “Did any of the other dresses have pearl beading?”
“No, it was just that one.”
“Let’s empty the box completely and see if we can find any more of these beads.”
“Huh?” Lorea studied the bead in my hand and gasped as I picked up the others.
A powdery residue hugged the corners of the cardboard and the packing tape glimmered in the light with the same fine particles.
“What’s this?” Lorea held up a shiny piece of metal.
My skin prickled with goosebumps. “That looks like part of a razor blade.” I closed my eyes, but not before the image of blood trickling down a knife point seared my consciousness. The foreboding sense of discomfort threatening my good mood broke through my dam of positive thinking. A million negative outcomes flowed through my mind and I felt cords of tension tightening my shoulders. Taking a shaky breath, I opened my eyes, commanding myself to stay in the present, and focus on Lorea. “I don’t understand. Do you think our shipment was tampered with?”
Lorea tilted the silver blade. “How fast can you get China on the phone?”