Today’s cover reveal is For Rent: The Apartment Manager Series by Erin Huss. It’s a Velvet Morning Press book (look for it August 8, 2016!)

Summary provided by publisher:

What’s another word for garbage collector/concierge/warden/shrink/Adult Daycare director? Apartment manager, of course!

When Cambria Clyne—a single mom down on her luck—gets the job as apartment manager at an L.A. apartment complex, she believes her life is turning around. But between having to talk to the retired couple in Apartment 22 about their loud bedroom “activities” and babysitting the owner’s man-child who lives in Apartment 40, Cambria realizes the job is nothing like she’d imagined.

When crime takes over the community, Cambria adds “detective” to her list of duties, determined to find the criminals terrorizing the residents and threatening her job. Joining her efforts are rival Chase, the gorgeous not-so-handy maintenance man, and Tom, her one-time-love baby daddy. As the case unravels and tensions increase, Cambria finds that perhaps she’s been a naïve accomplice all along…

If you like the lovable in-over-their-heads heroines of Sophie Kinsella’s stories, with a little Janet Evanovich cozy mystery thrown in, you’ll love this hilarious look at the adventures of a feisty gal trying to keep her crazy job and find love.

 

**Hmmm, between the cover and the summary, I’m color me intrigued- what about you?**

 

Excerpt:

You notice the tenants in Apartment 6 have a constant flow of visitors. The visitors tend to arrive and leave within minutes.

I refilled Lilly’s cracker supply and threw the rest of our belongings into my bag. I swung Lilly onto my hip, bag over my arm, and pushed open the pool gate. It creaked and squeaked and moaned before slamming shut, loudly announcing our exit to the entire community. I rolled my eyes and continued to creep through the breezeway toward the third courtyard. Not exactly sure of my plan, I only hoped to get there unnoticed.

The door to Apartment 36 opened. I dropped behind the nearest bush and crouched down, trying to balance Lilly and my bag without falling face first into the thorny shrub. I peeked up and watched the woman leave with the same small brown bag; like the rest, she handled it discreetly while looking around.

Apartment 36’s door shut, and it was safe to get up. I could get up. I wanted to get up. But it became clear that the best way out of my position was to fall flat on my butt and proceed from there. The dirt clung to my still damp derriere, and I took my mud-butt up the first stairwell, eyeing the vacant apartment across the way. It was the perfect lookout location.

As slyly as one can with a toddler on the hip and mud on the butt, I climbed up the stairs. “This is awkward,” I mumbled.

“What’s awk-wad mean?” Lilly asked.

“It’s when something is uncomfortable,” I whispered.

“What does uncom-for-tita-ble mean?”

“It means… not comfy.”

“What does not comfy mean?”

“These are really good questions. Please keep them in your brain, and I promise I’ll answer them when we get into that apartment up there, OK, sweetie?”

“Hey, Cambria!” Larry poked his head out his window and waved. His long, stringy gray hair dropped down like Rapunzel’s. I waved back. Then Lilly waved. Then the resident from Apartment 7 walked by and waved.

Good grief!

I dashed up the remaining steps, opened the door to the vacant unit and closed it quietly behind us. Lilly slipped out of my arms and ran around, free from the confines of furniture. Her little feet thumped from the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom then back again.

I really suck at this undercover crap.

Positioned at the window, I slid one vertical blind over to get a look down at Apartment 36. A skeletal woman waited at the door, one bone-thin hand shoved in her back pocket and the other knocking. The door opened, and a man around my age, maybe a tad older, with a small face, slicked blond hair and round, gold glasses opened the door and motioned her in. Minutes later they reemerged, her with the bag and him with a fistful of cash.

I pulled out my phone, pointed it at the door and hit “record.”

There is not enough available storage to record video.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said to the phone. I quickly went through my pictures and deleted as many as I could. Most pictures—OK, more than 3,400—were of Lilly’s cute face.

Fifty pictures gone, I repositioned the phone on a new visitor waiting at the door and hit “record.”

There is not enough available storage to record video.

Fine. I snapped a few pictures and composed a text to Cambria, noting the time of arrival, the length of stay and the description of each visitor.

“Can we go home?” Lilly asked, pulling at my towel, causing it to fall to my feet.

“I’m almost done, and then we’ll go,” I promised.

She slapped her forehead. It was cute. So I took a picture. Then I turned my attention back to my sting. Is that… Chase?

It was. He strolled along the pathway, his hips swaying deliciously with each step. His dark blond hair looked extra tousled and his face extra scruffy. I wondered if he ever shaved, and what it would feel like to rub my hands across his scruff. My knees began to buckle at the thought.

Snap to it, Cambria.

Since technology had failed me, a second witness would be beneficial. I looked down at Chase while the phone rang in my ear. He stopped, reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. He stared at the screen and hesitated. He HESITATED.

He looked around and then answered, thankfully, because that would have been uncomfortable. “Hey, Cambria. What’s going on?”

********************************************

Erin Huss is a former on-site apartment manager and current blogger at The Apartment Manager’s Blog—a chronicle of the comical (and often bizarre) accounts of property managers. Erin lives in Southern California with her husband, five children, two dogs, and lots and lots of fish.

Find Erin: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram.

**** What do you think about the cover? Don’t forget- FOR RENT will be available August 8th!***

Happy Reading and Bookishly Yours,

T @ Traveling With T