Sorry to have been absent lately–it’s DEADLINE time, so I’ve had to let things slide. Hitting a daily word count on top of the day job and running a household is hard; falling behind and having to do twelve-hour writing marathons at the last second is harder. So I’m trying to learn to pace myself better.
So…I have only one winner to announce this week. DEBBY236 won the week’s Readers Choice contest and chose Detective Strongoak and the Case of the Dead Elf, by Terry Newman. This book is only available in Kindle format so let me know the email address you’d like me to send the notification to. Amazon will send you a link to download. If you don’t have a Kindle and wish to choose a different book, scroll back to Monday’s list and take your pick!
Come back tomorrow for a new Readers Choice, and then I have a special guest on Tuesday.
Now, what am I working on so diligently? That would be WILD MAN’S BLUFF, first in my new Wildlife Wardens series. I don’t have a release date yet but probably early 2016.
In this scene snippet, Cele has just met Gentry for the first time. Cele is a singer-songwriter who has inherited the cabin in Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana, that belonged to her great aunt. Gentry is a Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries enforcement agent, and he is in uniform–he had come by the cabin at Cele’s request because he found her aunt’s body and she had some questions for him. He thought she was sexy, but bossy and a short termer. She thinks he’s trouble on legs.
Cele stuck her head around the corner, watching Gentry Broussard follow his partner to a swamp-green monster of a pickup truck. Nice ass.
Then again, there was something about a guy in a uniform most women found irresistible. Cele and Sonia had pondered this peculiar phenomenon over late-night glasses of moscato back in Nashville. They’d decided it had to be the belt and all the equipment that dangled from it when the guys walked, which was not only phallic but probably released extra sex pheromones into the air and turned women into nectar-seeking honeybees.
Which was exactly why it was dangerous for her to stay too long in Terrebonne Parish. It felt too comfortable. In fact, it felt damned good. It felt like home in a way Nashville never had. Staying would be too easy, and one day she’d wake up and realize she hadn’t left Terrebonne Parish in ten years, or twenty.
Plus, the men here were one of two types: either total losers or sexy and overburdened with testosterone. Too many of them, like Gentry Broussard, had a confident, unconscious sexuality that would bulldoze a woman into a single-wide with a half-dozen kids before she knew what hit her.
And a dog. A guy like that probably had at least one or two hunting dogs, and not cute little beagles, either. Big dogs.
Yep, Gentry has a dog, but only one. His name is Hoss. 🙂