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It’s true what they say about Louisiana – good times, good food, good people. And the only thing hotter than the temperatures outside in Belle Terre is the temperature inside when our heroes and heroines find each other.
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Available on December 1, 2021, the boxed set of Heart of Louisiana gives readers all three books in the series.
Hearts of Louisiana (Book 1)
Sometimes you need to kiss a rebel…
Excerpt from Sex and Insensibility
“I haven’t had a drink in a really long time.” She took another long sip and again Will watched the muscles in her neck, letting his face follow the arch of her throat to the open vee of her T-shirt. She licked her lips then added, “Brian said it was unladylike.”
Brian. The someone in question, no doubt. Will hated him instantly. Not for marrying Lara, not for being good enough in the eyes of her parents to marry Lara, but for not treasuring her once he had her. The rest he could forgive, but the latter…Of course, Brian was dead. It was hard to hold a grudge against a dead man. Will had tried for years.
Lara interrupted his thoughts. “Does this drink have a name?”
The rapid change in the tone of her voice left him a little dazed, as if something rushed by quick enough to steal the breath from his lungs. Tension prickled along his skin.
“I love drinks with names, not that I drink, but today…today I feel like having a drink with a name.”
Will smiled, slowly letting the grin broaden on his face. “It has a name.”
She took another long sip, watching him over the rim of the glass. Waiting.
Finally, she prodded him. “Well?”
Patience never was a virtue with Lara, but then again, in high school she’d never had to wait for anything she truly wanted. Will wondered if anything had changed. He moved closer to her. “It’s called a Sloe Comfortable Screw.”
Lara’s mouth formed that cute little O again and a rosy flush brightened beneath the spattering of freckles. He stopped with less than an inch between them, the air suddenly energized and warm as if the two of them this close together created heat and other forces of nature. Will leaned down and took the glass from Lara’s hand, not afraid she would drop it but afraid she would crush it in the white-knuckled press of her fingers.
Will couldn’t resist and went in for the kill. “Are you ready for another?”
Hearts of Louisiana (Book 2)
Everyone needs a second chance…
Riley Kenner and Jackson Guidry are looking for a second chance at love. Not that they’ll admit it. First, they must find one missing brother, put out two dozen blazing Christmas trees, and stop three mysterious Grinches looking to cause trouble.
Excerpt from Second Chance Romance
“This is me.” He scribbled a number on the back. “Office on the front. Cell on the back. Call if you need anything.”
The possibilities behind the word anything jumped to the front of her brain. So many possibilities. All of them quickly followed by the word stupid. She hadn’t done anything stupid in years, she reminded herself. She wasn’t about to start now.
“Thank you, Officer Guidry.” She glanced at the white cardstock with block lettering. Simple. No nonsense. She tucked the card in the pocket with her ATM receipt.
“Jackson.” The smirk and dimple returned in full force a moment before he added, “And I’m sorry you were put you in handcuffs.”
Rather than ticking her off as they had before, the sight of that dimple and accompanying smirk sparked something to life deep inside her belly and apparently cut off the oxygen to her brain.
“It’s not my first time,” she answered, wanting to pull back the words as soon as she realized what she’d said. “The crew…construction crew…we’ve run up against the local law before. People get very passionate about endangering a spotted titmouse even if it isn’t a spotted titmouse.”
Even to her ears it sounded lame but he laughed at her joke, the deep rumble settling around her like a well-loved pair of jeans.
“I hear the protesters have moved on to bigger and better things.” He tipped an imaginary hat to her with a slight incline of his head and turned, ambling toward the door.
She slumped against the cubicle wall he’d just vacated, watching his backside disappear out the front door. He elevated the dark brown slacks beyond their utilitarian style and filled out the shoulders of the matching brown shirt quite nicely. The color deepened the tan of his skin and brought out the chocolate undertones of the hair close to the scalp.
A quick shake of her libido brought her attention back to where it needed to be. Her brother and the missing money.
But Jackson Guidry’s backside kept sneaking into her thoughts.
She pushed off the cubicle wall and stomped toward the exit, the other patrons smart enough to give her the right of way.
How could a man she’d only known for fifteen minutes affect her like this? Hell, Riley corrected herself. She hadn’t known him sixty seconds before she started wondering what those slate blue eyes would look like while she straddled his naked body.
Damn, she was screwed.
Hearts of Louisiana (Book 3)
Often good fortune starts with a chance…
Harley Fortune and Chance Gold are out to disprove the theory that opposites attract. She’s immune to his charm. He’s more determined than she is stubborn. Can two people with their minds on business realize that falling in love is the next item on the agenda?
Excerpt from Love and Miss Fortune
Gooseflesh pebbled down Harley’s arms. She cleared her throat, drawing the attention of both customer and barista.
He rested his arm on the waist-high counter and leaned his weight, then pushed the shades up to the crown of his head.
“Hello again.” Amusement crinkled the corner of his eyes. Eyes that Harley realized now were not light brown but amber. Honest to god amber, like the sunlight had been tanned to a warm gold then splashed with wisps of chocolate swirls. “Must be my lucky day.”
More flirting but Harley didn’t take it to heart. Flirt seemed to be a steady-state with this guy based on her two interactions with him. “Coincidence. If you want coffee in this town that doesn’t taste like it was blended with diesel this is where you go.”
He cocked his head to the side, his brows arching in disbelief. “This might qualify as a coincidence but my dad told me there was no such thing as a coincidence.”
“And your dad would never lie to you?”
“Not when it involves women or whiskey.”
The eyes never left hers, Harley noted reluctantly; didn’t do the quick head-to-toe she was used to seeing from men who wanted to assess her place in their hierarchy of females: friend, fling, fleeting, or forever.
She thought of the gold car outside and her totaled truck being hauled to the old truck graveyard. It was the second time he’d mentioned whiskey and he’d said out by the lake he wanted to talk to her. Harley wondered now if he was in the business. She’d considered him a salesman looking to tempt her with money for their signature corn, money she desperately needed. But maybe he had something to do with Uncle Everett’s meeting at lunch.
“Then your dad was right this time. It’s not a coincidence.”
“Definitely my lucky day.” He leaned a little closer, his posture relaxed. He scrubbed a hand over his ear. “Tell me you followed me from the highway, or saw my car and stopped hoping to get to know me better.”
While she hadn’t felt small standing next to him out on the highway, Harley calculated the difference in their height and had to stop herself from stretching up to her tiptoes. “Something like that.”
“Uhh, Harley, he wants his coffee extra hot,” Julie interrupted, probably missing the death rays shooting from Harley’s eyes to melt the golden-eyed outsider. “What does that even mean?” Julie’s eyebrows were starting to draw together, creating a deepening ridge on a forehead still too young for wrinkles and worry. “Isn’t all coffee hot? Unless it’s iced and he didn’t say he wanted it iced. Did you?” Julie deflated a little more. “I sort of lost track.”
Harley moved closer to the counter, which put her too close for comfort with Mr. Helpful. The woodsy scent of birch and something sweeter tickled her nose. She ignored the masculine scent even as she breathed deeply. “Heat the dairy to one-eighty. Lara keeps a thermometer near the machine if you’re not comfortable doing it by touch.” Harley pointed to a drawer.
Julie’s blank look morphed into something more fearful, the whites of her eyes taking over her narrow face. “Lara!” Julie sprinted from the counter, the wake of her departure causing the cup tower to teeter.
Harley whistled slow and low, reaching over the counter just in time to halt the tumble of cups. “Holy cow, I think you broke the barista.”
“I have Triple-A,” he shot back and winked, his head tilted at the absolute ideal angle to catch the single ray of sun filtering in through the blinds. Did he practice the head tilt, knowing the effect it had on the opposite sex? Or was it instinctual that he knew how the light from the single ray of sunshine played in the mahogany flecks of an amber iris? “I’m sure we can get her up and running again.”
She had to shake her head to break the spell, enthralled by Mr. Helpful’s eyes. “I’m sure you’re good at jump-starting things.”
“Only when invited.” There was power behind the grin when he turned it on, the perfect amount of straight white teeth behind a crooked smile. “Otherwise I never touch a woman’s battery.”
Harley could practically hear the mental countdown in his head, waiting for her to fall for his charm. But she wasn’t going to fall for it. No matter how tempting.
The low pull in Harely’s gut sent off warning bells in her head. Don’t make decisions with your vagina, her granny’s voice echoed in her head. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, every strand falling perfectly back into place. Of course it did, Harley admitted. He had to be an alien. Or supernatural. Or a supernatural alien.
Hearts of Carolina
When you trust the enemy, at least you know where you stand
Kaley Locke leads a quiet life. It’s easy to do on an isolated island until Adir Isa Shamoun washes up on her beach during a hurricane. His arrival is no accident, however, and he knows more about Kaley and why she’s hiding out than he should. Adir brings a message Kaley can’t ignore. Only Adir has his own secrets. Is he working for the good of the nation that sent Kaley into hiding? Or for his own interests?
Excerpt from Two If By Sea
She didn’t only have a trespasser. She possibly had a dead trespasser. And a military one at that.
“Well, shit. That’s going to complicate things.”
She immediately regretted the words. A man may have died. Whatever the reason. Whatever the inconvenience to her ordered and secluded world. She scrubbed the hair back from her face with her free hand. She’d been apart from humanity for too long.
Even if she had good reasons.
She straddled the body, pressing two fingers into the neck to feel for a pulse. The skin was clammy but not cold so if he was dead he hadn’t been dead long. She checked his wrist. No pulse that she could find, but her own heart was a pounding staccato in her chest. Kaley cursed and moved quickly to search the front pockets of his pants for a wallet, identification, anything she could use to notify the authorities once her radio was working again. Tangling her hands in the fabric of his shirt, and using the belt loops on his pants, she heaved his body over and did a quick search of his back pockets.
Nothing. Not that she expected anything. If he was military he’d be flying under the radar if he’d intentionally come to find her.
She repositioned the body on its back and grabbed the raft to use as a cover. As she pulled the make-shift shroud into place her eyes locked with his.
Amusement crinkled at the corners of the bloodshot baby blues. “Find anything good?”
She cursed like a sailor and fell to her ass, crab-walking backwards until she smacked into the ATV. “What the fuck?” A hard swallow while her brain reset itself. “You’re not dead.”
“Sorry.” Not-dead guy gave a tight, pain-filled smile as he levered himself up, resting his weight on his elbows. A little color found its way into the hollows beneath sharp cheekbones bringing his skin tone from a slow-burning ember to a fired gold. “I don’t want to complicate things too much.”
Back Home Again
Maddie Dearborn didn’t think her life could get much worse. She’s about to find out how very wrong she can be.
Even at 17, Maddie Dearborn knows her hometown is a bit unusual. Nothing surprises her. Ghost hunters. Alien sightings. Sinkholes. Living at the crossroads of a supernatural nexus will do that. But nothing prepares her for super-hot new guy Malakai Inger. Malakai ignores her most days, but when she needs help he’s suddenly there. But his help comes with a price.
Is he just another unusual addition to the town? Or is she crossing the supernatural highway to get to the other side?
Excerpt from Dance of the Butterflies
The familiar pulse of regret and nausea rolled over her like the cloying scent of Gran’s knock-off perfume still haunting the farmhouse, a fierce combination of jasmine and Vick’s Vapor Rub that left her dizzy and clutching her bike for balance. The sun blazed overhead, adding to her misery. An early heat wave baked the usual spring-like weather from the Indiana May day and leached what little energy Maddie had left.
Pregnancy, she was learning quickly, required a lot of energy.
Think of something else, her inner voice coaxed. Graduation is in six weeks. Your best friend hates you. All your friends — possibly the entire school — hate you, actually. Being pregnant isn’t your only problem.
If she was pregnant. She wasn’t sure yet. Maybe she was turning into an alien. It was a popular pastime in the town of Crossroads, the spiritual nexus of weird and paranormal. That was better than seventeen and pregnant, wasn’t it?
Her mind flashed to the night she’d gotten that way — seventeen and pregnant. It was the night before the Triple-A championship game. She and Wade had been best friends since kindergarten, as opposite as two people from the same town could be. They’d been dating the past two years but more friends than boyfriend/girlfriend. Maddie found it was hard to transition from best buds to budding romance. Awkward flirting led to awkward kissing. Her first time. His first time. Also his last, most likely. They’d barely started before he was finished. When the tears began — his, not hers — he’d confessed he thought he was gay. The walk of shame back to her place had been silent between them.
Maddie yanked the bike forward again with an audible umph, wanting to push back the memories as well. No such luck. She was stuck with it. Her belly did a somersault. Not just stuck with it. She may be changing its diapers in eight months.
He’s afraid, Maddie, the inner voice reminded.
“I know, dammit!” She bounced the bike’s front tires for emphasis.
Everything changed that night. As if things with Wade weren’t bad enough, she’d come home to find her dad waiting in the kitchen, his face as dejected as she’d ever seen it.
MOM LEAVE, he signed before she could even ask, though the words were slow, as if they pained him to make.
Maddie waited but he didn’t meet her eyes. It was hard to talk to a Deaf person when they wouldn’t look at you. She jiggled the table until he looked up, still not meeting her eyes. NO UNDERSTAND. WHERE MOM?
He shook his head, then dashed away at the liquid the overhead light caught in his eye. She’d never seen her dad cry.
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