Size 12 Is Not Fat

I adore Heather Wells!

Alternatively put, she did. That was before she left the pop-idol life behind after she gained a dress size or two — and lost a boyfriend, a recording contract, and her life savings (when Mom took the money and ran off to Argentina). With her new work as an assistant dorm director at one of the best institutions in New York, and her new size 12, which is ordinary for American women, Heather is pleased that the days of glitter and grandeur are behind. That is, until an elevator shaft is found to contain the lifeless corpse of a female student from Heather's resident hall.

The cops and the college president are ready to chalk the death off as an accident, the result of reckless youthful mischief. But Heather knows teenage girls . . . and girls do not elevator surf. Nevertheless, no one is willing to pay attention—not the police, her coworkers, or the private investigator who owns the brownstone where she resides—even as other students begin to appear dead in similarly commonplace but subtly menacing ways. Thus, Heather decides to embark on yet another exciting new job as a feisty lady investigator!

But her new job comes with few benefits, no cheering crowds, and lots of liabilities, some of them potentially fatal. And nothing ticks off a killer more than a portly ex-pop star who's sticking her nose where it doesn't belong . . .