Review
"This book is not exactly a Valentine, but by golly, if you have a mystery lover in your life, Dead Red Heart is sure to please."Eileen Granfors: eileengranfors.blogspot.com/
"Lalla Bains, Crop Duster and Amateur Sleuth has become one of my favorite characters. In A Dead Red Heart, the second book in the Lalla Bains Mystery Series, R.P. Dahlke weaves together suspense, mystery, romance, and a touch of humor for a fantastic mystery that will keep you guessing until the end. A Dead Red Heart is on my list of favorites...." Kellie Rix,. Reader/reviewer ..Entertaining, suspenseful, totally unexpected and has a love story mingled in with it." MariLou Georges for confessionsofreader.blogspot.com
"The characters in this book are strongly defined and very, very memorable. The Modesto, CA setting is so well described that a fan and a cool drink is almost a requirement while reading this smoothly written mystery. When the ending arrives, you know that you've been on a wild ride with a spirited and feisty woman."Mary R. Fairchild "Mare F"
"Author R P Dahlke has combined suspenseful murder and even humor in the creation of A Dead Red Heart. And I have to admit, I didn't come up with the real murder until the end. This author really kept me guessing and changing my mind."
Review by Martha A. Cheves, Author of Stir, Laugh, Repeat
From the Author
I got to thinking why I so very much like reading and writing about strong women. To be honest with you, I think it's because I've spent most of my life as a wimp, doing as I was told, minding my manners, saying all the right, and expected, things, until one day I realized being miss-goody-two-shoes was getting me exactly nowhere. Since then, I've been called disrespectful, annoyingly forward, and my favorite--uppity. To make up for lost time, I now suit up as Lalla Bains, born again bachelorette, ex-NY Model, crop-duster, sometime amateur sleuth. I might as well let her tell it... she's crowding me for the spotlight anyway.
Lalla Bains here, and I seldom do as I'm told especially after my lyin', cheatin' whoring second ex-husband took up with yet another too-tasty-to-resist side-dish.
So what if I took a baseball bat to his recently restored vintage Caddy? It was worth it just to watch him try to yodel his way out of this latest lie... like I didn't catch him and his secretary fogging up the windows of his pimp-mobile.
I smashed in the headlights, the driver's side window, and just for good measure, slashed the tires. That way, he had to get a tow. I skinned him of the Caddy in the divorce and, just for spite, painted it candy apple red.
That's me, hell raiser--well, sort of. Flying and partying don't mix during the long hard days of summer. Even if I had the energy I get too damn little sleep as it is and now that I'm fu-fuuu-fu-forty.--'kay, that's--that's just--rude to laugh. You try my life for a day--up at three a.m., chasing after lazy pilots and the smart mouthed ground crew I inherited when my dad went in for a triple by-pass.
"Would you mind coming home and taking over the crop-dusting business?" he says, coughing lightly into the phone. "I might not be around much longer."
Miraculously recovered, my tight-wad father is now too busy to take back his desk, what with rediscovering a whole new wardrobe from the back of his closet. He's in leisure suits, squiring local widows to funerals and scarfing up free meals at the wakes while I try to shake off the ankle biting Chihuahua we inherited from the last murder case.
On the bright side, my love life is finally out of the dumps since I have a wonderful relationship with Sheriff Caleb Stone. Well, that is, it would be, if only I could do as I'm told and stay away from solving crimes. It's not my fault that people die at my feet, or they're found six feet under a local lake strapped into the front seat of my trophy red caddy.
But, If I did as I was told and stayed out of trouble, I never would have solved those cases. Besides, it helps keep my mind off turning fu-fuu-forty. So, now you understand why well behaved women seldom make history is now my motto.
Note to self: tattoo the above quote somewhere I can clearly see it when I'm in another jam.
From the Inside Flap
Lalla Bains, ex-model and Aero Ag pilot has plenty to keep her busy during another long hot summer in the San Joaquin Valley of California. But when a lovesick, homeless veteran litters her vintage red caddy with paper snowflakes, Lalla figures it's time for a showdown. Unfortunately, someone else has the same idea leaving Lalla with a dying man at her feet and only his strange last words, "The more there is, the less you see," as a clue to his killer.
No one wants her involved in the investigation; certainly not the creepy Modesto Police detective who slithers across her path every chance he gets, and not the local newspaper reporter whose annoying high-jinks cause her to want to set fire to the last three hairs on his head, nor Lalla's love interest, Sheriff Caleb Stone, who can only wish he could rein in Lalla's stubborn enthusiasm for sleuthing.
Meanwhile, nothing stays the same as Lalla watches her tight-wad widowed father becomes a born-again lady's man, a disreputable crop-dusting competitor tries to push her out of business, and last but not least, she gets to worry that the sultry red-head in the police department may be vying for Sheriff Stone's affections.
With nothing but the vaguest of clues to go on, Lalla determines that if nothing else, someone needs to be on the side of this misunderstood vet, and that person will be the exasperating, pushy, tenacious, Ms. Lalla Bains.
About the Author
I sort of fell into the job of running a crop-dusting business when my dad decided he'd rather go on a cruise than take another season of lazy pilots, missing flaggers, testy farmers and horrific hours. After two years at the helm, I handed him back the keys and fled to a city without any of the above. And no, I was never a crop-duster.
I write about a tall, blond and beautiful ex-model turned crop-duster who, to quote Lalla Bains, says: "I've been married so many times they oughta revoke my license." I wanted to give readers a peek at the not so-perfect -life of a beautiful blond. Lalla Bains is no Danielle Steele character, she's not afraid of chipping her manicure. Scratch that, the girl doesn't have time for a manicure what with herding a bunch of recalcitrant pilots and juggling work orders just to keep her father's flagging business alive.
I enjoy writing with humor, and if you enjoy my books, I'd love to hear from you! Here's my e-mail: rp@rpdahlke.com
