The Sands Motel is a page turner and there are many funny scenes. The bad guys are also well developed characters whose relationships leave the reader taking sides with the enemy.
Michèle Thibeau - Quebec Chronicle-Telegraph
Two Montrealers return to Miami for a winter vacation. Caitlin Donovan and Carmen DiMaggio’s goal is to relax and recuperate from the stresses and heartaches of modern living. But Miami is not that simple. When Harris Chalmer throws two bags of cash out his Hummer window...
READ MORE... the women quickly become embroiled in a deadly chase and an unforgiving world where they don’t belong. Sheila Kindellan-Sheehan, bestselling author of Sheila’s Take and Cutting Corners, takes her reader on a riveting exploration of homelessness, crime, the psychology of loss and greed and the need for catalysts on the road to the self-discovery. And the human characters are not the only things in flux: Miami is fast becoming a stranger to itself. Decades-old motels are being replaced by monster developments; traditional residents by new ethnic groups; laid-back sun-worshippers by ruthless rich kids. The choices are stark: residents, transients and tourists must adapt, move on or die.
Crouched like a mouse in a corner, Caitlin could just make out the tips of Harris’s Sperry boat shoes, rocking angrily back and forth. Her palms were red as they shouldered her weight. The small joints ached and strained. As quiet as a mime, Caitlin dared take only shallow breaths. She could smell Hilda, the heavy, sweet odour of older people who applied perfume with a heavy hand. Would Hilda betray them? Caitlin hoped not – all three lives depended on the saleswoman.
Carmen’s shoulders ached from the moment Caitlin pushed her into the locker. The school-sized locker was not wide enough for anyone’s shoulders. With only the four slats at the top of the locker, Carmen could not see Harris, but she felt his closeness. She dared not move an inch – lockers creaked. A dry hacking cough wanted out, but Carmen kept swallowing her phlegm to keep herself quiet. Her nose began to bleed, but there was no room to tilt her head back to stop the flow. Carmen caught the blood drops in her hand. Her cheeks were red with panic. Sweat dripped from her hair, a tiny drop making its way into her ear. What if he had a knife and rammed it through one of the slats. She would never see it coming. Her nails bit into the heels of her hand. What if?