Are There Any Reviews For 'From The Neck Up'?

"We'd like you to come with us to the station immediately," Vanessa's heart began to beat faster, "I don't understand," she said, "What for?" "Mrs Spencer, you're wanted as a prime suspect in the murder of your husband, Mr Christopher Wesley. You need to come with us to the station for questioning. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. I suggest you don't try to resist. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" Vanessa's jaw dropped. Christopher was dead! It was impossible to believe. She'd just spoken to him that afternoon. It had to be a mistake. She nodded, "I…. I…. I need to call my lawyer," she said, when she finally found her tongue," "Ma'am, you can do that at the station. Turn around, please," —----------- Politician and governorship aspirant , Christopher Wesley is dead ; shot in the head right in his own house. The killer is unknown, but the police have a suspect —his estranged wife, Vanessa Spencer Detective Alaric Harper and his partner are placed in charge of this case and at first Alaric is certain that Vanessa had killed her husband. Her motive? He's not sure of. Could it be spite? Maybe the money? Or maybe she just got tired of him delaying their divorce? He's determined to find out and he's sure that he will, but one thing he never expected — falling for her…..

A senseless tragedy struck Alanis Roswell, wiping out her greatest dream: having a family. Alanis will never know how it feels to hold her own baby. So, her career became her main focus, giving it her all. Everything went well until she met Brody McLean. He was so charming, so easy to fall in love with. But when he told her about his dream of becoming a father, Lanie decided to push him away. Brody McLean was gorgeous, rich, successful. But he wanted to find the right woman and start a family. Was Alanis Roswell the woman he was looking for?

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

a really good book for you. I hope you like it becuase it tells you a good story. Please read it.

A series of short letters between a teenage girl and boy. I just really hope you all enjoy reading this book.

My mother was the most renowned forensic artist, yet she refused to acknowledge me as her daughter. On my eighteenth birthday, I was kidnapped and called her for help. However, my mother replied impatiently, "Today is Angelina's birthday. Just die if you want attention that badly." Later, all the bones in my body were shattered and scattered everywhere. When my mother reconstructed my face from the bones, she lost her mind.