Parlez-Vous Murder?

My name is Jules Hooker. I have lived through a few crappy moments in my life–and with a name like Hooker, you can just imagine–but nothing, nothing, compares to the two intensely and world-shatteringly crappy things that happened to me this last June.

Three, I guess, if you count Gilbert.

After my ex-boyfriend dumped me on the day I thought he was going to propose, I’d have to say the other two really bad things that happened last June would have to be the dead body I discovered in the rental house in France where I went to get over being dumped, and lastly—and very possibly I should have led with this—the dirty bomb that exploded over the Mediterranean throwing me and everyone else in France back to the 1950s.

Did I mention I’m more or less stuck here now?

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