'La Contessa Letitzia di Ponzo and her sister Signora Teodora Grisiola are not who they might seem. Now in their seventies, they're actually Letty and Dora, a pair of ex-hookers turned con-artists who've decided to steal a pair of gold, jewel-encrusted Tibetan shih tzu dog statuettes from a Glasgow museum. Unfortunately, it seems everyone wants to get their hands on the expensive pooches. There's the dodgy chauffeur, a pair of delinquents who work in a crematorium, an out of work insomniac bent on revenge, and an innocent young islander who's obsessed with returning the dogs to Tibet. And yet the elderly con-artists might just manage to execute their plan and live the rest of their lives in the lap of luxury. That's if they can avoid the Australian hit-man with his sights on a very different future for them...'
Alan Jones told me a while back I HAVE to read this book. I loved it! It's hilarious. A raucous, quirky, full go, screwball heist, fun read. Set in Glasgow and centered around a museum exhibit. You can tell from the book description it can only end hilariously with all these different people after the same thing! I finished it up in bed last night and my poor hubby who was trying to get to sleep kept giving me dirty looks because I kept laughing.
Lots of fun characters and each one gets ample time on the page. I don't know what else to say, I don't want to give away anything. You'll want each crazy thing to unfold for you as you read it. There's kidnapping, revenge plotting, murder, robbery, you name it you've got it and all of it wildly funny.
Here's a sample of the silliness...
Letty put her feet up on the coffee table which groaned under the weight of her legs. "Me ankles are killing me. These shoes are a nightmare. I'll be glad when I can get back into the motorcycle boots afain." She eased the navy blue court shoes off her swollen feet, flexing her toes with their silver nail varnish. "And this bleedin' corset is cutting off my circulation and making me fart. I had to keep it in with Sheehan here. and that's not healthy. If I'm gonna wear these clothes all the time we need to get a dog we can blame for the stink. Add that to the list, doll."
Kyle dropped the crowbar, feeling sick...
Then Sheehan noticed that the seven dancing Gwens were holding seven colossal crowbars...
Sheehand groaned and tried to open his eyes. His head felt as though it had been trampled by a herd of wildebeest. He felt his head with his hand. He now had a matching egg-shapped lump on the right side and he could feel the blood trickling down his face. Maybe he would just lie here for a little while. Go back to sleep. It was better when he was asleep. Yep, that's what he would do.
It was the sound of someone clearing his throat that made him open his eyes. Gradually. Painfully. A well dressed man. Tanned. Posh shoes. Carrying a fecking crowbar. Where were people getting all these crowbars from? Did the museum have a supply of antique crowbars? As the crowbar came towards his head at high speed, Sheehan thought, "Not a-fecking-gain."
I've already ordered her first book 'Go to Helena Handbasket'!
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