Don't get me wrong, there was plenty to laugh about when we first arrived in Merry Olde England to watch one of my novels being shot as a major motion picture. Alex was delighted with the location (a seventeeth-century manor house), but horrified with the surfer-dude playing him. I, personally, found the situation hilarious until the leading lady started rubbing up against "my" hero, leaving me no choice but to start a little flirtation of my own with the lord of the manor's nephew. It was all very Regency House Party until the scriptwriter showed up dead. Things are suddenly getting hot and heavy between Alex and me and their timing is atrocious as usual, what with the murder and mayhem. Suspects? Don't get me started. There's Mr. Contemptuous Director, Ms. Man-Crazy Production Assistant, Mr. Fancy Pants English Actor, Ms. Diva Leading Lady, and... yours truly. Yep, I was seen arguing with the victim right before his unfortunate demise, so I am, as the Brits would say, in a bit of a pickle.