The Summer Guests (The Martini Club, #2)

by Tess Gerritsen

She had no idea how a writer’s mind worked, but she imagined it was like a dozen different voices shouting in your head, demanding you tell their story their way. It seemed like a form of madness.

When you can work unseen, much can be accomplished.

Maggie was silent as Alfond walked out of the building. His nearly full coffee cup was still on Jo’s desk, waiting for someone else to throw it away. How nice to go through life assuming your messes would be cleaned up by someone else.

That’s what her marriage had taught her: the more fiercely you loved someone, the deeper the pain when you lost them.

“People can justify almost anything, Maggie. That’s why history keeps repeating itself.”