Jessica James, the cowgirl philosopher, is ready to take on her next mystery in this exclusive excerpt from Kelly Oliver’s F.O.X.
About ‘F.O.X.’
When Jessica James wakes up half naked behind a dumpster in downtown Chicago, she thinks the hot intern feeding her Fiery Mule Slammers slipped her a Mickey. But after a pattern of similar incidents around Northwestern Research Hospital, Jessica realizes she wasn’t raped, she was robbed. Robbed of something as valuable as life itself. Hunting for the predator drugging and dumping Ivy League co-eds, Jessica discovers secrets about her own identity that force her to rethink her past. The solution to the mystery lies in the cowgirl philosopher’s boot-cut genes.
The “dumpster girls” are all top of their class, attractive, college girls, who are drugged and dropped behind dumpsters, with tiny mysterious incisions on their bodies. The police are baffled. When a girl turns up dead, armed with her quick wit, cowgirl grit, and philosophy, it’s up to Jessica to solve the mystery to save herself and her friends before they become the next victims.
“Stoner” Jack Grove, a third year medical student studying abnormal psychiatry at Northwestern University, and one of Jessica’s bestfriends, secretly has a crush on her. While Jack is trying to understand the criminal mind, his classmate and rival, Max White, is trying to eliminate it through genetic engineering. Competing for Jessica’s attention, Jack and Max become the primary suspects in the series of “dumpster girls.”
Olga Davis, the trophy wife of business mogul and aspiring Senator Ronald Davies, is under pressure to get pregnant, she resorts to IVF ata fertility clinic run by Max White. When five embryos attach and are viable, Olga faces the toughest decision of her life. Trying to keep her “unnatural”pregnancy a secret, and obsessed with finding out the identity of the biological parents, Olga must steal from her husband, and pay off a blackmailer threatening to expose her.
Amazon | Goodreads
Read an excerpt from ‘F.O.X.’ by Kelly Oliver
“Zzzzzit.” A zapping sound followed by the flicker of fluorescent lights awoke her, and Jessica James found herself staring up at a plump motherly face beaming down at her. Where in the hell was she, and why was her arm strapped down? The cramping in her pelvis refreshed her memory.
She glanced around the antiseptic room then down at the rails on the hospital bed. “Beep, beep, beep.” An evil machine was squawking all too close to her throbbing head. The plastic pillowcase stuck to her moist cheek as she turned to face the accusing mechanical green eyes blinking at her.
“We’ve sutured the wound on your hand. Keep the area dry and in a week we’ll remove the stitches. I’m going to give you IV fluids and an antibiotic,” the chubby nurse said, jabbing a sharp needle into the crook of her arm. Jessica instinctively tried to yank her arm back, but the nurse just smiled and stabbed harder.
“Please, hold still like a good girl, and then it won’t hurt. Just a quick drip to prevent infection in those nasty cuts on your hand, legs, and buttocks. Poor dear.” The nurse’s lilting sing-song voice reminded Jessica of her mother’s after a few drinks: saccharine and superficial.
When she closed her eyes, she could almost see the faded posters hanging on the mildewed walls of her mom’s dilapidated trailer. A rainbow zooming down from a silver cloud to chase a unicorn, a smiley-faced mushroom growing out of a pile of shit insisting, “everything happens for a reason,” a dew-cheeked cherub splashing in a mud puddle taunting, “there has to be a morning after.” Yeah, there has to be a morning after alright, but it ain’t always pretty. Sometimes it has mascara running down its face, holes in its panty hose, and puke crusted on its little black dress.
“There. All done. Rest now. That’s a good girl.” The nurse’s maternal cooing snapped her out of her reveries. Jessica opened her eyes and saw her best friend Lolita’s hazy silhouette across the room.
“What happened?” She forced the words out of her mouth. Her palms were sweating and a film had formed on her tongue making it difficult to speak.
“You fainted in the waiting room, my dear,” the annoyingly chipper nurse replied. “Your friend insisted we do a rape kit. The DNA results should be back in about three weeks, the STD in a few days.”
“Kit?” Jessica asked, hands shaking. She reached for the plastic cup of water sitting on the side table and took it in both hands. Slowly sipping, she pleaded with her eyes for Lolita to intervene.
The nurse smiled and patted her arm. “Rape kit. Your friend explained your situation. Poor dear.” The nurse turned her lips down in a fake frown.
Jessica winced. Her situation. The night’s grim sequence of events came flooding back to her: Super cute intern and spicy vodka drink, and then rocks in flesh, pain in side, and the stench of death. Yes, her situation was grim. Jessica was staring down at the bleached bedcovers and watched as a single tear hit the thin hospital blanket.
“Have you had an ovarian cyst removed recently or another kind of hysteroscopic surgery?” the nurse asked as if she were offering Jessica a lollypop.
“What?” Jessica asked, peeking up over the edge of the cup, tears stinging her eyes, and then answered, “Not that I know of.”
“You don’t know if you’ve had surgery?” the nurse asked sharply.
Lolita stepped out of the shadows and to her bedside. “She hasn’t had surgery. Why do you ask?” When Lolita stroked her hair, a floodgate opened; a stream of hot tears flowed down Jessica’s cheeks, rolled along her jaw, and pooled, cold and clammy, above her collarbone.
“The physical exam revealed signs of a fresh incision on the vaginal wall.” The nurse gave her a questioning smile. “And no sign of forced…”
“Explain.” Lolita interrupted.
“Your friend has had surgery recently, my dear.” The nurse raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. “A tubal could make that kind of incision, but you’re awfully young for a hysteroscopic tubal.” She stared down at Jessica.
“A what?” Jessica asked, rubbing the rough hospital blanket between her thumb and forefinger.
“A tubal ligation. To prevent pregnancy.” The nurse shook her head.
“Oh. Pregnancy.” Jessica hadn’t even thought about the possibility of pregnancy. Her mind reeled. She allowed her head to fall back onto the sweaty, plastic-covered pillow then took several deep yogic breaths, but they weren’t working. Panic set in as she thought about pregnancy. She glanced up at Lolita, again pleading for help with her eyes.
“Sweetie, you’ve been through a lot.” Lolita stroked her hair again then turned back to the nurse. “What about Plan B?”
“Plan B?” the nurse repeated.
“The morning after pill,” Lolita answered.
“The exam didn’t show any signs of rape…”
Lolita interrupted again. “The pill, please.”
“Okay. I’ll ask the doctor on call.” When the nurse waddled out of the room, Jessica sighed with relief. All that sugary cheerfulness was making her head hurt worse.
She must have dozed off for a few minutes because the nurse woke her up when she whisked into the room with a small white paper cup.
“The doctor approved a dose of ulipristal acetate.” The motherly nurse smiled with her eyes and presented the paper cup on the palm of her outstretched hand, pointing to the water pitcher with her double chin.
“Here, swallow it now with some water like a good girl.” Jessica closed her eyes and opened her mouth, a baby bird awaiting maternal sustenance. There had to be a morning after, and sometimes it came in the form of a pill.
About the author
Kelly Oliver is the author of The Jessica James Cowgirl Philosopher Mystery novels, including Wolf, Coyote, and the forthcoming F.O.X. (2017). She earned her Ph.D. from Northwestern University in philosophy. She has held teaching positions at various Universities, including George Washington University, University of Texas at Austin, and Stony Brook University. Currently, she is W. Alton Jones Distinguished Professor of Philosophy at Vanderbilt University. Her work has been translated into seven languages, and she has published in The New York Times. She has been interviewed on ABC television news, various radio programs, and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime. Her nonfiction work includes over 100 articles and over twenty books, including: Hunting Girls: Sexual Violence from The Hunger Games to Campus Rape.