Evie Preston doesn't shake hands.
Skin to skin, she drops straight into the worst memory a person carries and lives it right alongside them. There's no explaining that to a stranger. So she keeps her hands to herself. She keeps the part about her sister, who vanished when Evie was twelve, to herself too.
Ready for a life bigger than Brady, Texas, Evie loads her guitar and her dog, Mama Cass, into a 1974 VW bus and heads for Los Angeles with five thousand dollars and a plan that is mostly a prayer.
Inside a week she has three jobs: doing makeup for a pop star who treats her like a best friend and a lady's maid, singing at a Hollywood bar owned by a former child star, and house-sitting a Hollywood Hills mansion for an owner she's never met.
The house has some very famous tenants. None of them are alive.
Bob Marley wants to talk. Janis Joplin wants to borrow her body. And Lucas Minx, a murdered grunge rocker, has apparently been assigned to protect her-a job that would go a lot easier if she could stop looking at him like that.
Then her boss is shot dead in his own bar, and the people Evie touches start showing her things she can't unsee.
In a city full of secrets, knowing too much can get a girl killed. And falling for her ghostly protector may be the one complication Evie never saw coming.
The Dead Celeb is the first Evie Preston paranormal mystery: a Hollywood whodunit, a dead-rock-star ghost story, and a love story that shouldn't be possible.
Fair warning: Evie's friends swear like sailors, there are steamy scenes and dark supernatural danger, and by the last page, Hell has noticed her.