Lavene Joyce - Hooked Up

Praise for

the first Stock Car Racing Mystery

The planning, sleuthing, humor and the wide array of characters give this first in the series an extra special start. The thrill of the race and the excitement are contagious. Even if you dont know a lot about NASCAR, this installment will bring you full circle. There is good information at the end of the story for all enthusiasts. Mystery Morgue

Glad and Ruby are a modern-day Nick and Nora. Set in the South, readers are treated to a taste of Southern hospitality in Rubys family. Racing fans are sure to appreciate all of the references to the sport. There are colorful characters in Swapping Paint, as I imagine there are in the racing world. This series promises to be a winner! Fresh Fiction

Swapping Paint , told in the third person from the perspective of Glad, is a madcap comedic whodunit that engages the audience due to the antics of the lead duo as he gladly prefers to watch the goings-on while she takes the wheel at speeds that NASCAR drivers envy.... Fans of racing and mysteries will enjoy this speedy turn around the track as Joyce and Jim Lavene provide a superb racing thriller. Midwest Book Review

One doesnt have to be a NASCAR enthusiast to be swept up in Joyce and Jim Lavenes Swapping Paint . But die-hard fans will certainly revel in all the inside references and banter that gives this book so much of its bounce and brightness. Half the fun of this story is watching Ruby, a voluptuous Southern belle, have her way with Glad, whos seventeen years her senior and thoroughly smitten with his down-home darling. ForeWord

Hooked Up: A Stock Car Racing Mystery 2008 by Joyce and Jim Lavene.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Midnight Ink, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

As the purchaser of this ebook, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.

Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the authors copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First e-book edition 2010

E-book ISBN: 978-07387-2021-0

Book design by Donna Burch

Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

Cover driver image Ian Spanier / The Image Bank / Getty Images

Midnight Ink is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

Midnight Ink does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.

Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific reference will continue or be maintained. Please refer to the publishers website for links to current author websites.

Midnight Ink

Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

2143 Wooddale Drive

Woodbury, MN 55125

www.midnightink.com

Manufactured in the United States of America

Whos that sleeping in my bed?

Shh! Youll wake him. Ruby drags me away from the bedroom door, my bedroom door, where some strange man is sleeping in our bed. I have just enough time to see that hes also wearing my pajamas.

Wake him? I should get my gun out and shoot him! How did he get in there? And whats that big black thing on the bed?

Ruby keeps walking down the hall toward the kitchen of our 2000 Holiday Rambler Navigator. I follow her statuesque form, admiring the sway of her hips even as I work myself into a fine temper, as my Polish grandma used to call it. I mean, a man should have some inalienable rights. One of those should be not sharing his pajamas and his bed.

Hes a cat, Glad. His name is Malibu. Bill, his owner, was stranded out on the road. Mama and I picked them up. Bill was exhausted. Ruby pours a cup of coffee. He needed a place to get himself
together. He said he hadnt had a good nights sleep in days. What else could I do?

Those big blue eyes turn on me, so wide and innocent. But Im not backing down. There are some things that should be private. When did you pick him up? Your dad and I were right behind you the whole time. I didnt see anyone hitchhiking.

He was at the last rest stop. You were too busy flirting with that woman in the 57 Chevy. Remember? She smiles sweetly.

I vaguely remember the woman. The car was fantastic. It had everything. If I had time for something that sweet, it would be the car, not the woman. I wasnt flirting with anyone. I cant even look at a car without you thinking Im looking at another woman? I put my arms around her waist and pull her close. I dont need another woman, sweetie. Youre all I want and all I can handle.

She pouts and I kiss her sexy lower lip. Then I shake my head. But you arent getting out of this that easy. You cant pick up some bum from a rest stop and put him in our bed. And you gave him my pajamas. Dont you think that was taking kindness to an extreme?

Well, he couldnt wear my pajamas! If you couldve seen him, youd know why I did it.

If Id seen him, I might have given him a few bucks, but not the key to my RV.

Glad, the good book says to give no matter what the person seems to be like. Remember the parable about the lepers?

Not right now. But I dont think it says anything about putting a stranger in your bed after you give him your husbands pajamas.

Let me call Mama. Ruby edges away from me. Shell back my story. She thought it was the right thing to do.

While were at it, lets call Oprah and see what she thinks. I cant believe she doesnt see any harm in what shes done. This is our bed and my pajamas. I dont care if the queen of England thinks it was the right thing to do.

Fine. The word barely slips out of her pretty lips. If thats the way you feel about it, I hope youre never alone, hurt, and exhausted and have no one to turn to.

I hope not too. But Im not real worried about that right now. Im going to get that guy out of my bed. Maybe you could find some disinfectant and someplace we can burn my pajamas.

Oh, youre so dramatic! Everything will be fine after we wash the pajamas. Youll see.

And while were at Wal-Mart getting new pajamas, we can pick up a mattress cover to put on the bed. I start back toward the bedroom.

She stops me. Ill go. I created the problem, and Ill take care of it. I dont want Bill to be upset when I tell him my big oaf of a husband has no Christian charity.