The Ambassador’s Wife
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Published by: Bloodhound Books
Release Date: April 16, 2024
Synopsis
After a whirlwind romance, she still has much to learn about her new ambassador husband—and about the fate of his predecessor’s wife . . .
At thirty-five, Nora Buckbee fears she’s destined for a lonely, single life. Then she meets handsome State Department employee John Fielding. They marry quickly—and next thing she knows she’s moving to Thailand with him, where he’ll be serving as ambassador.
It’s an exciting adventure—for a while. Then she learns that the last ambassador’s wife disappeared without a trace, and there seems to be little interest in learning what happened. John, who’s often away on secret missions—odd, she thinks, for an emissary—seems as unfazed by the mystery as everyone else. But when Nora starts volunteering for the same group with whom the last wife worked, she begins to realize that nothing here is as it appears to be . . . including her new husband. Determined to peel away the layers of lies and secrets that surround her, Nora finds herself in a race to discover the truth. But can she figure it out before she meets the same fate as the previous wife?
Excerpt
Prologue
The lenses on his sunglasses fogged up as soon as he stepped from the cooled to perfection air of the car into the heat and humidity of the jungle. He paused to wipe his glasses clean noticing as he did the languid, lazy air, even the birds too hot to take flight. A trickle of sweat ran along the back of his neck. He loosened his tie and tugged at his collar, but it did nothing to alleviate the soupy miasma that hovered out here over the countryside.
Bangkok had been hot, make no mistake, but at least there he had air-conditioning and ice-cold drinks to ease the misery. Out here in the middle of nowhere, there were none of Bangkok’s luxuries, although really they were necessities—electricity, running water, paved roads—all required for a civilized life. But none available out here. Even the trees offered no relief, and instead served as a backdrop for the veil of mist that seemed suspended from the branches.
The man blinked away the sweat that clouded his vision and looked around. A small circle—all men, and all in suits—stood with their eyes planted firmly on the poor soul who was busy with a crowbar and hammer trying to pry open a heavy wooden crate. The worker wore a tee-shirt and khakis, his feet in plastic sandals. He worked smoothly, only the fine sheen of sweat that coated his face and saturated his shirt, proof that he too, was feeling the effects of the sweltering sun.