The Body Shop Books
Forgot to feed your goldfish before your untimely demise? Need to jot down a will? Say a goodbye? See the Grand Canyon? Then come visit us at The Body Shop, where unfinished business is our business. Mary Frances Talbot—Frankie—is a necromancer, probably. Hard to say since she never met her parents. She can see the dead, talk to the dead, and a few other things that aren’t strictly legal. It’s fine. No worries. As long as she doesn’t get caught. The whole not getting caught thing was going well until Samuel Harrow blew back into town wearing a Savannah Police Department uniform. He might be a witch, but he hates magic. He’s not a fan of Frankie either. Which explains why he’s her ex. When Frankie’s less than legal side gigs result in dead vampires, she knows she’s in trouble. Big trouble. And that’s before Harrow offers to help. With him waving a Get Out of Jail Free card in her face, Frankie doesn’t have much choice but to accept. But that doesn’t mean she has to forgive. She’ll certainly never forget him breaking her heart or turning her over to the police or... Yeah. They were doomed from the start. Something tells her this investigation will be too.
The other family business at The Body Shop is slow after word gets out that Frankie had clients die—cease to exist?—on her watch. Considering they were dead to begin with, she understands why the news shook the spirit community’s faith in her, but it’s a hard hit to her bottom line. When a spirit appears in her office, ready to sign a contract, she’s eager to please. Until she learns why he wants to hire her. He heard about her clients’ deaths, yes, but he also learned Frankie was instrumental in bringing their killer to justice. The spirit’s human granddaughter has gone missing, and he wants Frankie to find her before it’s too late. Frankie’s no detective, but her schedule is wide open. The job is to save the girl, but with so many gods and monsters prowling the streets of Thunderbolt these days, she’ll be lucky if she can save herself.
The whole dying thing sucked, but Frankie isn’t going to dwell. She’s focusing on the positive. She’s alive. Ish. Her family is safe. Her business is booming. She’s even got a boyfriend. Everything is coming up roses in Thunderbolt, Georgia. Until a client decides she needs more time and makes a run for it in her loaner body. Too bad for the client, the last thing Frankie does before a loaner hits the showroom floor is microchip them for this very reason. Finding the runaway soul will be a piece of cake. Or it would have been if she hadn’t bumped into Carter, who’s working a case that gets tangled up in Frankie’s repo. Missing women. Stolen cars. Alien abductions? The only way to get Frankie out of trouble is to help Carter uncover who’s behind it all. And pray the answer isn’t her client.
Matty has lost his soul, and it’s up to Frankie to find it before his body gives up the fight for survival. But soon his isn’t the only life at risk from the soulless condition. The affliction is spreading from Thunderbolt, Georgia, into the beating heart of the French Quarter and right up to Madam Vionette Fontenot’s front door. When Frankie returns to New Orleans in search of answers, she finds herself at the mercy of a god who covets her newfound powers as the guardian of the Alcheyvāhā. He makes it clear he’s willing to do whatever it takes to wield her for his own benefit. Even if it costs Frankie everyone she loves.