Wednesday's Special Is...Tan Lines!

Tan Lines by J.J. Salem

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Tan Lines is J.J.'s 22nd book to be published, but his first "bonkbuster." I think you have to live in England to know what a bonkbuster is.

It's a fiercely contemporary tale about strong women and the choices that relationships, society, and high-pressure professional arenas thrust upon them. Tan Lines explores the issue of public faces/private selves.

One risky encounter.
One scandalous breakdown.
One horrifying murder.

Don’t even try to take cover from this scorcher.

Excerpt:


Billie noticed that Liza seemed relieved when they moved past the subject of March. She didn’t quite believe her friend’s denial. How could Liza be content with a man like Justin? Okay, physically, he was flawless. But Liza was such an intellectual creature. March’s politics might take a hard turn to the right, but at least the man could think. When Justin wasn’t pumping iron, he just sat around waiting for an alarm bell to ring.

There was real electricity between Liza and March. Billie was almost drunk, but she could still read a situation. It didn’t matter, though. Not now. March was fair game. She’d given Liza every opportunity to stake a claim of interest, even on a look-but-don’t-touch fantasy
level. So Billie would just have to take the woman at her word.

They lingered at the table, nibbling on the peanut brittle teasers, talking about their first weekend in the summer share. They intended to spend most of the daylight hours working on their tans. With a two-week head start, they just might be able to stand next to Kellyanne without looking like a couple of ghosts.

Beyond that, the evenings were all planned out. Reservations at Nick & Toni’s for Saturday night. Half a dozen cocktail parties on Sunday. Film director Harrison Beck’s big Memorial Day bash in Sagaponack on Monday. Too bad they had to be escorted there by K.K., the fat queen. Billie had seen him on television leading a panel to dish red carpet fashion after an awards show. Cartoon fags were so annoying.

When the check arrived, Billie made no move to contribute. It wasn’t her idea to come here. Liza didn’t blanch, though. With tip, the bill had to be almost eight hundred dollars. But she just threw down her American Express Black. Must be nice. Amy lectured Billie regularly on cutting down her spending. Meanwhile, Liza was making money in her sleep. And for what—raising hell about some stupid slasher movie? Some people had all the luck.

As they made their way out of Savanna’s, Billie announced, “I’m going to the ladies room. Meet you outside, okay?”

Liza seemed to think nothing of it and ventured on.

Billie fell back, waiting for her to exit, then made a beeline for the pavilion. There was a tent-like structure. More Grecian columns. A beautiful garden. But with balloons everywhere and a table chockablock full of gifts, it looked like Amaryllis was celebrating her sweet sixteen.

Suddenly, March appeared and offered a flute of champagne. “Where’s Liza?”

Billie drank up and passed the empty glass back to him. “Waiting for me outside.”

He took a step closer. “That’s not very sociable.”

“I can’t stay, either. I just wanted to give you my number.” She slipped a scrap of paper into his front pocket.

He smiled. “Is that the kind of information that could get me into trouble?”

Billie licked her lips. In her white jeans and black lace camisole top, she knew that she looked hot.
“Use it. Find out for yourself.”

March opened his mouth to speak.

But Billie was already gone.

From across the room, Amaryllis stood watching.

Billie matched her glare for glare. Then she silently mouthed the words, “Happy birthday, bitch,” and walked out.


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1) Name three things JJ likes to nibble on.
2) What's JJ's favorite cartoon?
3) What's JJ's recipe for a Birthday Bitch Cake?