Sibylline Greetings (Book 2, the LiteraTours Cozy Mystery Series)

The LiteraTours coach, usually a beacon of calm amid Rome's chaotic traffic, became a runaway projectile. Ike Wordsworth gripped her seat, her stomach lurching with every wild swerve as Brigitte, their usually unflappable French driver, fought a losing battle with the steering wheel. White knuckles, grim face, and the desperate stomping of a foot on a non-responsive brake pedal—this was no ordinary Roman rush hour.

"Brigitte!" Ike yelled, her voice barely audible over the roaring engine and the collective 'Whoa!' from the now-alarmed tourists. The coach shot through a crossing, narrowly missing a bus, and careened into a narrow, cobbled cul-de-sac. With a final shudder and a bang against a dustbin, it groaned to a halt. Rain began to pour, a theatrical clap of thunder echoing overhead.

Boris, the Corgi, whimpered, his wet nose pressing against Ike's elbow, sensing her sharp pang of panic. This wasn't a 'minor mishap.' This was sabotage. And as the realization settled, an even colder dread began to seep into Ike's bones. Another 'accident.' What next?