Books by Nageeba Davis

Released: July 2, 2002

"More Murder Lite—a clue here, some snooping there, an episode of soul-searching over whether a well-intentioned break-in constitutes a mortal or venial sin—spiced with heavy romance."
A sculptor's very first show is bound to stir up butterflies, and when the sculptor is neurotic, oppositional motormouth Maggie Kean, there's so much to worry about—her clothes, her hair, the food, the uncomfortably enthusiastic cheerleading of her police detective swain Sam Villari's close-knit family, the unexpected appearance of her own estranged father and his second wife—that she has barely any energy left to worry about the likely reactions of the Monument, Colorado, press. And that's just as well, because by the time the local art reviewer arrives, fashionably late, The Outlook, where owner/manager Mark Gossett is displaying Maggie's work, is already festooned with crime-scene tape and crawling with Villari's associates. Taking Mark's friend, earthy collector Henry Duran, into the studio space in the back to show him a piece a little edgier than what's on display, Maggie's found something edgy indeed: a body stuffed into the roaring pottery kiln. It's just like Maggie's manic debut (A Dying Art, 2001), except that this time the victim, Outlook board member Jeff Riley, is a stranger to her—and remains on virtually the same terms to readers, who won't mind that Maggie's spending more time canoodling with Villari and swapping aperçus with Duran than investigating the murder of an unknown who, after all, has nothing to do with her except that he spoiled her opening. Read full book review >
A DYING ART by Nageeba Davis
Released: July 10, 2001

"It may begin with a plugged-up toilet, but inane storyline and trite prose land Davis's maiden voyage right in the crapper."
"This isn't a romance novel," snaps gutsy, gamine sculptor Maggie Kean to her best friend Lisa, who's gotten just a tad too inquisitive about her love life. Ah, but cara mia, you couldn't be more wrong; a romance novel is exactly what Davis's series debut is. The murder plot is mere pretense: Does anyone care who killed Maggie's beloved elderly neighbor, whose day-old corpse is found clogging up Maggie's septic system? Elizabeth Boyer's greedy grandkids Cassie and Will are just irritants, her late husband's illegitimate daughter a speck on the screen. The real action here is the thrust-and-parry between Maggie and sultry, smoldering Sam Villari, the police detective whose liquid brown eyes bore straight into her soul. Maggie hates Italian guys (like her ex-husband), but Villari's persistent. When she's rude to him, he drags her off to meet his mother. When she's evasive, he runs his finger slowly down her cheek and covers her mouth with electric kisses. When she dresses like a bag lady, he professes his desire to carry her upstairs and make love to her until morning. When she defies his orders to stop investigating on her own, he wraps her in his arms, exuding "the sheer smell of masculinity," and tries to take care of her. After all, isn't she the most "irritating, annoying, argumentative . . . impetuous, impulsive," and adorable person he's ever met? Read full book review >