By author: Larissa Reinhart
Release Date: January 24th, 2017
Genre: Cozy/Humorous Mystery
#10days #findthewoman #getthejob #doNOTfallinlove
When ex-teen star Maizie Albright returns to her Southern hometown of Black Pine, Georgia, she hoped to rid herself of Hollywood tabloid and reality show hell for a new career as a private investigator. Instead, Hollyweird follows her home. Maizie’s costar crushing, but now for her gumshoe boss. Her stage-monster mother still demands screen time. Her latest rival wants her kicked off the set, preferably back to a California prison.
By entangling herself in a missing person’s case, she must reprise her most famous role. The job will demand a performance of a lifetime. But this time, the stakes are real and may prove deadly.
Buy the Book:
What readers are saying:
“Hollywood glitz meets backwoods grit in this fast-paced ride on D-list celeb Maizie Albright’s waning star—even as it’s reborn in a spectacular collision with her nightmarish stage mother, her deer-pee-scented-apparel-inventing daddy…and a murderer. Sassy, sexy, and fun, 15 Minutes is hours of enjoyment—and a wonderful start to a fun new series from the charmingly Southern-fried Reinhart.”
— Phoebe Fox, author of The Breakup Doctor series
“Child star and hilarious hot mess Maizie Albright trades Hollywood for the backwoods of Georgia and pure delight ensues. Maizie’s my new favorite escape from reality.”
— Gretchen Archer, USA Today bestselling author of the Davis Way Crime Caper series
“I was already a huge fan of Larissa Reinhart’s Cherry Tucker series, but in her new mystery series, FIFTEEN MINUTES, she had me at the end of the first line: ‘Donuts.’
Maizie Albright is the kind of fresh, fun, and feisty ‘star detective’ I love spending time with, a kind of Nancy Drew meets Lucy Ricardo. Move over, Janet Evanovich. Reinhart is my new ‘star mystery writer!’”
— Penny Warner, Author of Death of a Chocolate Cheater and The Code Busters Club
“Larissa Reinhart’s newest heroine, Maizie Albright, is at once naïve and worldly. As a former child star, she craves life in the real world by becoming a PI, just like the TV character that made her famous. Armed with humor, charm, and stubborn determination, Maizie is a breath of fresh air. I adored every second of 15 Minutes. Viva la Maizie!”
— Terri L. Austin, author of the Rose Strickland mysteries and the Null for Hire series.
About the Author:
A 2015 Georgia Author of the Year Best Mystery finalist, Larissa writes the Cherry Tucker Mystery and Maizie Albright Star Detective series. The first in the Cherry Tucker series, Portrait of a Dead Guy, is a 2012 Daphne du Maurier finalist, 2012 The Emily finalist, and 2011 Dixie Kane Memorial winner. She loves books, food, and travel in any and all combinations.
Her family and Cairn Terrier, Biscuit, live in Nagoya, Japan, but they still call Georgia home. You can see them on HGTV’s House Hunters International “Living for the Weekend in Nagoya” episode. Visit her website, find her chatting on Facebook, Instagram, and Goodreads, and sign up for her newsletter at http://smarturl.it/larissanewsletter. If you enjoy her books, please leave a review. She sends you virtual hugs and undying gratitude for your support!
Visit all the stops on the tour:
Feb 12th – Blog on the Run – Promo/Spotlight Post
Feb 14th – Judging More than Just the Cover – Author Q&A
Feb 15th – Hello…Chick Lit – Book Excerpt
Feb 17th – Book Lover in Florida – Author Guest Post
Feb 18th – He Said Books Or Me – Author Guest Post
I loved Julia Pinkerton: Teen Detective.
Not because the show gave me international exposure. I worked with some great actors, both my regular cast and the guest stars. Real nice people who genuinely seemed to like me. Excellent crew and sweet craft folks. Treated me like a princess. On a long running show, they say your colleagues become family. That’s true. But when a show ends, the family disperses.
And you don’t always get a new family. Especially when you’ve outgrown your cheer uniform, but everyone still thinks of you as a cheerleader. And you weren’t that great of an actress anyway.
Even in hindsight, I would have done the show all over again. But not for the reasons you might think. Julia was smart. Really clever, sometimes crafty, but still likable. The other characters underestimated her because she was a teenager, but Julia used it to her advantage. Her teenagerness was her disguise.
She began as a school narc in the first season, working with the local police department. But after falling in love with the high school basketball star/drug dealer—originally a redeemable character, but when his contract wasn’t renewed, the writers had to flip him and kill him off—Julia lost confidence in the police and decided to strike out on her own. When you’re a teen detective on TV, you can do that. It worked. For eight seasons.
That’s like two millennia in TV years.
Plus, I met real police officers and real security agents. Advisors to the show. They took me for ride-alongs, got me into the Kids Police Academy, and let me hang out with them on set so I could listen to their stories. My agent and Vicki encouraged it, thinking it would help me develop Julia into a more convincing character, even though the advisors were actually hired to assist the writers and director.
Quick-witted and sharp, Julia could make the experts laugh. She asked provocative questions. Detective Earl King—guy with a permanent scowl and no neck—took me for ice cream every Friday.
Detective King said he wished he had a daughter as bright as Julia.
I’ll tell you one thing. Julia Pinkerton would never have gotten socked in the nose by a nail esthetician.
I lay on the floor, holding my nose and tearing up. I was no Julia Pinkerton. I wasn’t even a very good Maizie Albright. But I had succeeded in flushing out Tiffany for Wyatt Nash. Maybe he would still give me the job.
Mr. Nash handed Tiffany her papers, glanced down at me, and shook his head. “Guess I should have told you she has a record for assault. Didn’t think she’d use it on you. They were all domestic disputes.” After asking if I wanted to call the police, he offered me a hand up, steadied me on my Jimmy Choo wedges, and left.
Tiffany cursed him up one side and down the other as he walked away.
That girl has a mouth.
Blood dripped off the end of my nose and splattered my white dress. Grabbing the towel from the manicure table, I held it over my nose, inhaled acetate and ammonia, and almost blacked out.
“I’m so sorry.” Rhonda righted the chair, grabbed my elbow and guided me to safety. “Thank you for not pressing charges. Tiff has some anger issues. And an itchy trigger fist. But only when it comes to subpoenas.”