LAURA DELACROIX BELL—this dazzling trust fund girl’s size 14 figure doesn’t stop her from attracting the sexiest scoundrel in town, or the admiring eye of the Glass Slipper Club. However, a salacious secret could take her out of the running. Michelle “Mac” Mackenzie—brainy, cynical, and maybe a tad judgmental, Mac would rather bury her nose in a good book than embrace her deb destiny. But being a debutante was her late mother’s dream. Ginger Fore—this adorable tree-hugger wants to wear her grandmother’s vintage ball gown instead of splurging on an expensive dress. Yet when she gets tangled up with an older guy, Ginger will have plenty more to think about. Jo-Lynn Bidwill—a former child beauty queen, Jo-Lynn is a bitchy vamp who makes it her mission in life to take out the debu-trash. And Jo-Lynn’s sights are set on Laura Bell. "Proof that chick-lit thrives outside Manhattan and London, the novel features three well-heeled, semi-sophisticated young women (and a bitchy classmate as their nemesis)...Laura, Mac, and Ginger are sympathetic individuals with their own back stories, strengths, and vulnerabilities. [Readers] will find the effort enjoyable and will look forward to the sequels (and debutante events) to come." --Booklist review Susan McBride is the author of the Debutante Drop-Out adult mystery series. She lives in Missouri with her husband. Please visit her at www.susanmcbride.com. Laura Delacroix Bell grabbed the armrests of her seat in a death grip as the Southwest Airlines jet touched down at Houston’s Hobby Airport, the wheels bumping hard against the tarmac before rolling to a stop. The kid behind her let out a wail loud enough to split her eardrums, and she gritted her teeth, willing the Flight from Hell to be over with ASAP. Ten more minutes and I’ll be off this cattle car, she told herself, thinking that nothing would feel better than stretching to her full five feet nine inches after her cramped ride from Austin. Besides getting a major crick in her neck, she’d been stuck smack in front of the crying child, who’d kicked the back of her seat for nearly an hour. As if that wasn’t torture enough, all they’d fed her were two tiny bags of peanuts. “Welcome to Houston, home of NASA, Minute Maid Park, and the late, great Ima Hogg and her baby sister, Ura,” a flight attendant in a bright orange shirt and khaki shorts drawled. Laura rolled her eyes, thinking how everyone who’d lived in H-town for more than two minutes knew that Ima Hogg had really existed, while her “baby sister” Ura Hogg was pure hogwash. The Fasten Seat Belts light blinked off, and Laura instantly freed herself from the nylon straps. She hunched over to retrieve her black patent Dolce & Gabbana tote from where she’d wedged it between her bare feet, then hunted down her pewter Sam Edelman flats before she slipped them on and was ready to roll. Never again will I fly coach, no matter how desperate I am, she thought, and wished her first-class flight on American hadn’t been canceled without warning. She’d had to scramble to catch anything departing at the same time, but it was better than standing around waiting. She had been aching to get home, and finally, she was here, after two months away from her own bed; her best friends, Mac Mackenzie and Ginger Fore; and anything remotely edible. If she’d had to spend another week at fat camp, she would’ve gone totally postal. They’d made her surrender her precious BlackBerry Pearl upon arrival and had only given her ten minutes of e-mail time on a communal computer before breakfast and after dinner. How the heck could she keep up with TMZ and Perez Hilton and stay in touch with her friends in only twenty minutes a day? The counselors didn’t even let the inmates watch TV, so she’d missed every rerun of The Hills . Camp Hi-De-Ho was the corny name of Laura’s expensive summer prison, though she thought of the place more as Camp Hellhole. There was a reason carrots and lettuce were called “rabbit food.” Human beings couldn’t survive on the stuff, unless you were a size zero and your name was Mary-Kate or Ashley (either of whom probably considered eating rabbit food splurging). She turned on her BlackBerry immediately after deplaning, checking it first for voice mail and finding a message from her mother. “Hey, darlin’,” Tincy drawled above background noise that sounded like the engine of Harrington Bell’s company Gulfstream. “Hope your trip home is quick and painless. Unfortunately, Daddy and I won’t be there to greet you. We’ll be at the cabin in Telluride if you need us. Can’t wait to see my baby girl again, all fit and spectacular and ready for debdom! Kisses.” Laura felt a little pang but shrugged it off. Her daddy never liked to stick around H-town in the summer, when it was as hot and humid as a steam shower. So it didn’t surprise her that Harry Bell’s needs came first, even ahead of welcoming home his younger daughter. Did that mean Daddy’s driver would pick her up