When a mystery writer cries bloody murder, everyone blames her overactive imagination..
Thriller scribe  Sophie Katz is as hard-boiled as a woman who drinks grande caramel  brownie frappuccinos can be—maybe it's from a lifetime of fielding dumb  comments about her half-black, half-Jewish ethnicity. ("My sister  married a Polynesian! I just love your culture!") So Sophie knows it's  not paranoia or post-divorce, living-alone-again jitters, when she  becomes convinced that a crazed reader is sneaking into her apartment to  reenact scenes from her books. The police, however, can't tell a good  plot from an unmarked grave.
When a filmmaker  friend is brutally murdered in the manner of a death scene in one of his  movies, Sophie becomes convinced that a copycat killer is on the  loose—and that she's the next target. If she doesn't solve the mystery,  her own bestseller will spell out her doom, cursing her grisly  imagination (Why, oh, why did she have to pick the axe?), Sophie engages  in some real-life gumshoe tactics. The man who swoops in to save her in  dark alleys at night is mysterious new love interest Anatoly Darinsky.  Of course, if this were fiction, Anatoly would be her prime suspect....
 
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