My Gal Sunday by P-SimonSchuster


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									My Gal Sunday
Author: Mary Higgins Clark

Topping her bestselling success with Alvirah and Willy, in The Lottery Winner, America'sQueen of
Suspense introduces a new sleuthing couple, Henry and Sunday, an ex-president and hisyoung
congresswoman bride.Henry Parker Britland IV is wealthy and worldly -- a beloved former president who,
stillyouthful, is enjoying early retirement. His new wife, Sunday, is beautiful, smart and seventeenyears
younger than he, and has just been elected to Congress in a stunning upset victory that has madeher the
darling of the media.Henry and Sunday make a formidable team of sleuths -- and never more so than
when they set outto solve crimes occurring among their friends in political high society.When Henry's
former secretary of state is indicted for the murder of his mistress, Henry andSunday suspect he is
taking the fall for a crime of passion he did not commit. But why?With cases ranging from a crime on the
presidential yacht to a kidnapping that brings Henryback to the White House as he races against time to
unravel the plot, there is never a dull moment forthe ex-president and his bride -- or the reader.With her
wit and gift for characterization, the creator of the popular Alvirah and Willy storiesbrings us another
marvelously endearing sleuthing duo, destined to return again and again.

From Chapter 1 "Heap on more wood! -- the wind is chill; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our
Christmas merry still." Congresswoman Sandra O'Brien Britland looked up to see her poetry-spouting
husband, the former president of the United States, standing in the doorway of her cozy office in
Drumdoe, their country home in Bernardsville, New Jersey. She smiled affectionately. Even in a
turtleneck sweater, jeans, and worn ankle boots, Henry Parker Britland IV exuded a natural born-to-the-
manner persona. The touches of gray in his dark brown hair, and thoughtful creases in his forehead, were
almost the only signs that Henry was approaching his forty-fifth birthday. "So it's Tennyson we're
quoting," she said as she uncurled herself from the couch where she had been reading the seemingly
endless stack of material about pending legislation. "I gather the 'All-Around Hunk' is up to something."
"Not Tennyson, love. Sir Walter Scott, and be aware I will hang you by the thumbs if you call me 'All-
Around Hunk' again." "But People magazine just voted you that for the fifth year in a row. That's a real
record. Pretty soon they'll have to create a 'Perennial Hunk' award and retire you from active
consideration." Seeing the mock-menacing look on Henry's face, Sunday said hastily, "Okay, okay. Just
kidding." "Your saw, Mr. President." Sims, the butler, appeared in the doorway, carrying a shiny new saw
across upturned palms. He displayed it to Henry with the same reverence he might have shown in
tendering the crown jewels. "What in heaven's name is that all about?" Sunday exclaimed. "What do you
think, darling?" Henry inquired as he studied it carefully. "Well done, Sims. I think this should handle the
job quite adequately." "Are you planning to saw me in half?" Sunday asked. "Orson Welles and Rita
Hayworth had quite a successful act staging that scene. No, my sweet love, you and I are going into the
woods. This morning when I was riding I spotted a magnificent evergreen that will be perfect for our first
Christmas tree. It's at the north end of the property, out past the lake." "You're going to cut it down
yourself?" Sunday protested. "Henry, you're taking this 'all-around' business too seriously..." Henry held
up his free hand. "No arguments. I heard you say several weeks ago that one of your happiest memories
was going out with your father to buy the Christmas tree, then helping him carry it home and trim it. This
year, you and I are starting our own tradition." Sunday tucked a runaway lock of blond hair behind her
ear. "You're serious, aren't you?" "Absolutely. We're going to tramp through the snow into our woods. I
am going to cut down the tree, and together we're going to drag it back here." Henry beamed in
satisfaction at his plan. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. If we get the tree in and up today, we can start
trimming it this evening and finish tomorrow. Sims will bring out the boxes from the storeroom, and you
can select any ornaments you choose." "We have quite a selection, madam," Sims volunteered. "Just
last year Lanning decorators came as usual and did the blue-and-silver effect. Quite beautiful. The year
before we had a white Christmas. Ah, yes, it was much admired." "Lanning must be having a heart attack
that you're not having him in this year," Sunday observed as she put the files and notepad aside and
stood up. She walked over to Henry and put...
Author Bio
Mary Higgins Clark
Mary Higgins Clark's books are world-wide bestsellers. In the U.S. alone, her books have sold over one
hundred million copies. She is the author of twenty-eight previous suspense novels. Her first book, a
biographical novel about George Washington, was re-issued with the title, Mount Vernon Love Story, in
June 2002. Her memoir, Kitchen Privileges, was published by Simon & Schuster in November 2002. Her
first children's book, Ghost Ship, illustrated by Wendell Minor, was published in April 2007 as a Paula
Wiseman Book/Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers. She is co-author, with her daughter Carol
Higgins Clark, of five holiday suspense novels Deck the Halls (2000), He Sees You When You're Sleeping
(2001), The Christmas Thief (2004), Santa Cruise (2006), and Dashing through the Snow (2008). Mary
Higgins Clark was chosen by Mystery Writers of America as Grand Master of the 2000 Edgar Awards.
An annual Mary Higgins Clark Award sponsored by Simon & Schuster, to be given to authors of
suspense fiction writing in the Mary Higgins Clark tradition, was launched by Mystery Writers of America
during Edgars week in April 2001. She was the 1987 president of Mystery Writers of America and, for
many years, served on their Board of Directors. In May 1988, she was Chairman of the International

Mary Higgins Clark is truly a mistress of high tension.

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