Inez was dead, to begin with. Dead as a doornail — but livelier than ever.
She had no memory of actually dying. One minute she had been soaking in the hot tub at her condo, and the next … well, the next minute, she was walking through a forest, naked as the day she was born, and wondering what had happened to her swimsuit — and more importantly, her cover-up.
She liked to wear a cover-up whenever she went to the pool. The old men who lounged around on the deck chairs liked to leer more than Inez liked to be leered upon.
Their leathery, wrinkled skin both fascinated and amused her … so in a way, she leered, too. Her own skin was pale, like moonlight, and smooth, thanks to a daily dose of drugstore lotion and the extra 20 pounds she used to fill out her 40-something figure.