New from RM Gilmore, creator of the bestselling Dylan Hart series.

17 Marigold Lane (a Prudence Penderhaus novel)

Prudence Penderhaus was just an ordinary weirdo until the day one word changed the course of her life forever.

Giving up on life, a risky move turns her world upside down and uncovers an odd boy no one knew existed.

Trying to cope with her life at it stands, Prudence juggles her own emotions as she peels back layers of small-town secrecy that have been hiding right under her nose.

With a newfound purpose, she and her odd boy turn the town of Flintlock on its butt in the pursuit of truth. Uncovering more than she bargained for. Murder.

"My name is Prudence Penderhaus. I've never done anything remarkable. Never even bothered to look up. Until the day I realized I was dying."

An excerpt from the story:

“You mean… she might have to lose her arm?” Mom’s voice was shrill with tears on the verge of spilling.

“We’re not even considering that at this point, so please don’t worry.” She looked at me and changed the subject. “How’s your pain? I see you’re guarding that arm.”

“Your nurse wrenched it and damn near killed me.” I had no patience for anything at that moment and wanted nothing more than to be at school with Cassius. “I’ll be fine. I just want to go to school. Can we go now?”

“You’re still in school? Excellent. That’s what we like to hear. Just be sure you take it easy, get plenty of sleep and don’t forget to eat. You’d be surprised how quickly your body can turn against you when you’re neglectful to it.” She smiled, charming and radiant; it was no wonder she went into medicine, she certainly had excellent bedside manner. “Have a boyfriend waiting to hear the good news?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I said too quickly. “I mean, he’s a boy and he’s my friend, but he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a good friend that needs me.”

“That’s good you’ve got someone you’re close to. Just make sure he’s giving back what he’s taking. You’ll be needing him soon too. Someone has to grab you frappuccinos and hold your books open for you.” Her smile practically lit up the room.

“He’s not really the take-care-of-others type.”

She pulled her eyebrows in. “That’s too bad. You’ll have to show him how it’s done.”

“He’s a boy with Asperger’s. He’s not a boyfriend and he’s not a caretaker.”

She sat quiet for a long minute. Tilting her head to one side, she looked at me sympathetically. “That boy has all the potential in the world to be both of those things, and better than most boys out there, if you give him a chance.”