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Category: Beverley Bateman

Nalini Warriar and Her New Book

Nalini Warriar dreamed of being a writer then forgot the dream for a bit as she went on to garner a Ph.D in Molecular Biology. While in her lab, the dream came back and hit her on the head and she’s never looked back writing through her years as a scientist. After more than a decade in cancer research, Nalini returned to the creative part of her soul and now devotes her time to dreaming up the perfect alpha male and feisty woman to appear in her books. Her novel, Fireflies in the Night, was a Foreword Reviews Fab Award finalist and won the Next Generation Indie Book Award in 2017. Kirkus Reviews awarded Fireflies in the Night a starred review and named it Best Books of 2016. She’s working on her next romance, a Crenshaw Brothers book, to be released in 2020. She lives in Ontario, Canada.

Status of Karma’s Slow Burn, in pre-order promotion on Amazon and Smashwords.

Thank you for having me on your blog, Beverley. I wish everyone a happy and healthy 2020. The healthy part is crucial to the happy part. In retrospect, it makes me wise as I’m recovering from a cold.

My new contemporary romance, Karma’s Slow Burn, will be released very soon-1 Feb to be precise-and I’m in promo fever, getting all the dates right. A lot has changed from the last time I released a book in 2017. NetGalley is a new experience for me, as are Smashwords and Booksprout.

Reviews for my book from NetGalley and Goodreads are in and they are meager in number. Of the 55+ downloads on NetGalley, a measly 3 reviews have come in: one five-star and two-four stars. I attribute the low number of reviews to the fact that I’m an indie author. I can see this from the data on NetGalley where anything from a traditional publishing house gets more cover likes and even more reviews.

I’m not one to run after reviews but Amazon algorithms force me to. I have to think of it as free publicity even though I’m paying for the listings. For indie authors like me, the only way to tap into the large pool of readers is to let them know my book is out there too.

I can count the pre-order sales on my hands but I’m hopeful it will be positive when my book is out. All pre-orders have come from Amazon marketplaces and none from Smashwords, which is another distributor like Amazon. I’m not on Select with Amazon as this allows me to use other retailers even though the royalty is higher with Amazon Select. 70% of $0 in sales is still 0, right? Then again as there have been no pre-orders with Smashwords it is still very much 0 all the way.  Aargh! Now I have to think about getting on Select again and take my listing off Smashwords.

About Karma’s Slow Burn

I’d just finished another book set in Bollywood and New York and wanted a change, so I set Karma’s Slow Burn in an undefined city on the shores of Lake Ontario. There is a river, the St. Lawrence, which is less conspicuous. I see Lake Ontario every day and every day I’m struck by how big it is. How it seems to reflect my moods. Like today, on this mild winter day, the sun has decorated the ice floes with silver sprinkles, lifting my almost blue mood to a bright red.

Blurb.

Sportswriter Karma Deepika Huntington is going to hit Rafael Henley, star pitcher for the Sliders, hard to avenge her husband’s death. Rafael cannot ignore the chemistry between them and decides a one-night stand is in order. Karma agrees. Just to get that itch off. But once they get into each other’s pants, things get complicated. Revenge and guilt take a back seat with sizzling chemistry in control. Hanging out with her father, a cross-dressing accountant, a hacker ex-cop, a flatulent claims investigator or a star pitcher with a hot bod? Karma’s choice in new contemporary sports romance Karma’s Slow Burn.

  Excerpt Karma’s Slow Burn

When she finished the article, Karma called an Uber, packed her stuff and left the bar to wait for her ride. It was a dark evening, thick and heavy clouds hanging from the sky. Karma could sense a thunderstorm coming. The air was moist, filled with an earthy fragrance. She took a deep sniff. She half-turned when she heard gravel crunching behind her. A hairy arm snaked around her shoulders. Fumes of alcohol hit her nose. Coarse hair rubbed against her cheeks. He was huge. Her back rubbed against his soft belly. God! She hadn’t thought of him at all! Was this the way her beautiful evening was going to end? No fucking way!

Karma let her bag slide from her shoulder and her body went slack. With her head hung forward, she bent her elbows and jackknifed them into the softest part of his belly with all her might. It got a grunt from him and loosened his arm around her shoulder. She flipped around to face him, lifted her knee and jabbed it into his groin while slamming her ringed fingers on his nose.

With a groan, he dropped like a stone even as her legs gave way under her and she flopped to the ground, sharp pricks from the gravel biting into the heel of her palms. She didn’t feel the stones tear through the skin or the burning pain in her knuckles. 

“I see you don’t need my help.” From far away, Rafael Henley’s voice drifted toward her in the night.

In the glow of the streetlamp, she saw him pick up her bag and walk toward her, the sound of his soles soft on the gravel. He set her bag on the ground beside her.

“You okay, Karma?” The concern in his voice brought tears to her eyes.

Dammit!

Words refused to pass her lips. He came closer and bent down to her level. He took one of her hands in his. She winced and he frowned. Reaching forward, he put his arms came around her and lifted her to her feet. She stumbled against him then stilled as he brought her to his chest.

“You’re safe now, Karma. You made sure of that.”

She leaned her head on his chest, her hair screening her face and her hands trembling. Her blood pounded so hard in her ears and chest, she swayed on unsteady legs. His arms tightened around her. She wanted to say something but her lips were still locked. All she could do was fold her body into the comfort of his embrace and breathe in his clean smell, trying to erase all memory of the stink of the other man.

He was a solid wall against her wobbly legs. Her shaking body had him bend down and hook an arm around her knees. Not a word of protest crossed her lips. He carried her to his SUV and opened the door. He settled her in the seat, buckling her in.

“Wait, no. Have an Uber.” She managed to croak the words out.

“What kind of car?”

“White Camry.”

“I see him coming around the corner. I’ll let him know you don’t need the ride. I’ll take you home.”

Karma did not utter a peep of protest. For once, she let someone decide for her. When he got in the driver’s seat, he paused.

“Let me see your hands.” He switched the interior lights on. She refused to comply. He leaned over, grabbed them and turned them over. She sucked in a breath. “A few scratches and some bruising on the knuckles. Rewards of a warrior.” He nudged her chin up with a finger and looked into her eyes. She slapped his finger away. “And we’re back.”

She hated to show him her vulnerable side. She did not need a knight in shining armor. But she had needed his embrace. And that was it. Nothing more.

Karma’s Slow Burn, promo price of $1.99 on pre-order until date of release on 1 Feb 2020.

Buy Links:

www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07ZJSZD5X

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/957769

Author links:

h ttps://karmasslowburn.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/authornaliniwarriar

https://amazon.com/author/naliniwarriar

https://www.goodreads.com/naliniwarriar

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1028475.Nalini_Warriar

I’m Back for the New Decade

It’s 2020 and a new decade. I’ve been erratic in posting for the last little while. It was the darn “life” thing. But I’m back.

It’s a new year and a new decade and I hope to have an exciting year and accomplish lots of things, both in writing and other areas. I make goals and not resolutions which can be measured. I didn’t do too well last year. This year I’m hoping to have two new books out and write a novella. We’ll see how that goes. I hope you’ll come back to checking my blog twice a week and finding interesting posts. I also love to hear from both readers and other authors, so comments are always welcome.

I have some great authors and their books posting every week. I’ll have writing tips, maybe some writing insights and info.

I’m still struggling to finish Death Southern Style but it’s close. I have the editor and the formatter lined up and waiting.

And I have my cover – which I love. I’ll reveal it next week – so check back for that and let me know what you think.

My website is updated. You can check it out at https://www.beverleybateman.com and I did send out a newsletter last month. Both have recipes if you’re interested. If you didn’t get it and would like to let me know or sign up on my website.

My first guest author will post Saturday, January 11th . Check her out and her new book.

A Cruise to Remember #MFRWhooks

An amnesia victim found by the side of the road is befriended by Lillian, an older woman with early Alzheimer's. Lillian takes the victim, who they call Hallie, with her as a companion on a Caribbean cruise. Eric is an Interpol agent working on catching an international jewelry theft ring. He's undercover as the ship's doctor on the Caribbean cruise ship. Sparks fly when Hallie and Eric meet, but as the cruise progresses Eric’s thinking Hallie might be the thief stealing from the passengers. His reasoning is Hallie’s amnesia and Lillian’s Alzheimer's make a good cover. What’s the chance of two people traveling together having amnesia and Alzheimer’s? And then Lillian keeps coming up with pieces of jewelry passengers have dropped or lost.

 

To complicate everything someone is trying to kill Hallie and she has no idea why. Lillian finds an older cowboy who she's interested in and then there's the sleazy man who keeps hitting on Hallie. As the cruise progresses Hallie gradually starts to regain her memory. Eric decides she's not a thief, but has to find the real one and keep Hallie safe while their romance heats up.

Buy links:

Excerpt

Jack yanked her roughly against his chest and shoved her into a corner.

“No.” Hallie yanked one arm free and shot it at his jaw.

A shocked expression slashed across Jack’s face.

“There you are. I thought you promised to meet me for a drink?”

Jack dropped his hands. He spun around to face the speaker who approached them.

“What the hell...?”

Eric stretched his hand toward Hallie. “I don’t like being stood up. Shall we?”

“Yes, of-of course.” Hallie took his hand.

Eric slipped his hand around her waist and led her away.

Jack watched them depart, his eyes smoldered with anger, his chin jutted forward. “We’ll finish this later,” he hissed after her.

“Did we have a date, Dr. Peterson?” Hallie asked.

“No and call me Eric. I saw what he was doing. You didn’t appear to be enjoying it. My God, woman, don’t you have any idea how to handle a situation like that? And how the hell did you get yourself into that position in the first place? I didn’t take you for a stupid person.”

“I’m not stupid,” Hallie sniffed. “But you’re right. I feel pretty dumb right now. Jack out maneuvered me. It didn’t matter what I did, he wouldn’t give up.”

Hallie trembled.

“I suggest you stay away from him in the future. I might not be around to save you next time. Are you sure you’re all right?” Eric stopped and looked down at her.

“Yes, I think so. Don’t worry. I don’t plan to let him anywhere near me again.”

“Good.”

“I kicked, scratched and even yelled at him to leave me alone. Nothing worked and no one paid any attention when I yelled. I-I think he was going to try and make love to me right here on the deck. Thank you for rescuing me.”

“You looked terrified. I couldn’t believe you’d let him grope you like that.” Eric snapped.

“I couldn’t stop him. I did punch him. I even managed to draw blood at one point,” she said.

“You need to learn to throw a better punch than that if you want to do any damage.”

“Maybe you could teach me?”

Eric shook his head, “We’ll saw you had no idea how to handle him--so Eric to the rescue. By the way, he wanted sex, he didn’t want to make love to you, trust me. There is a difference. Don’t you remember anything about relationships? Or appropriate behavior between men and women?”

“Nope.”

“You can’t remember anything about how you reacted in the past?”

“How could I? I don’t remember my past. How would I know how I reacted? And maybe no one has ever tried to rape me before. I don’t know. Give me a break. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Good. I hope so. You have no knowledge at all about what happens on a date?”

“No, not really; conversation, eating, maybe a movie, I guess. I’m going to have to learn that process all over again, except, it’s going to be harder because when you’re an adult you’re supposed to know what it’s all about. People expect that you know the games and the rules. Jack certainly thought I did. I feel like a child trying to play grown up games.”

“I guess I am going to have to give you lessons.” Eric warmed her with his smile. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine now.”

“You’re still shaking. Come on over here where it’s quiet.” Eric found a sheltered corner, away from most of the passengers. “Sit down, doctors’ orders. I’ll be right back with two drinks. You could use something to relax you. They have special sail-away drinks. You okay with that you?”

He slipped his uniform jacket off and draped it around her shoulders, over her shawl.

“Sounds great, but it’s not necessary.” She felt warmer in the jacket and his musky male scent enveloped her. It was pleasant and sexual. She knew didn’t react to all men’s scent this way. She looked up and noticed his lip curled slightly as he smiled.

“Yeah, it is. Keep the jacket on to help warm you up. I’ll be right back.”

Hallie sat on the edge of the chair. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. She relaxed slightly and leaned back. Eric’s jacket slipped from her shoulders to the deck. She bent to

pick it up when she felt rather than heard a buzzing sound, something like a mosquito, past her left ear.

Strange.

She sat back up and twisted around to adjust Eric’s jacket. There was a hole in the back of the deck chair.

Funny, I don’t remember it being there before I picked up the jacket.

She ran her finger over the hole.

“Here we go.” Eric carried a couple of tall, red, orange and yellowed colored drinks topped off with parasols.

“What were you doing?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. There was a funny sound, like a mosquito, and I think this hole just appeared.”

“What the hell...?” Eric placed the drinks onto a nearby table. He ran his finger over the hole.

“It’s a bloody bullet hole.”

“A what? You’re kidding?”

“No, I’m not. Where were you when it happened?” Eric looked at the hole. He squinted back in the direction it would have come from.

“I guess that’s when I bent down to pick up your jacket.”

“My God, you could have been killed.” Eric pulled Hallie into his arms and squeezed her against his chest. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“I think so. I mean, I wasn’t hit or anything. I can’t figure out what’s happening. This has to be one of the worst nights of my life.”

 

 

Sachi – RIP

I started this year by losing my friend and companion.

She was sixteen and a half, and she will be missed.

Sachi was a dark red sesame Shiba Inu. I have many

wonderful memories but right now is a little difficult.

So, I wanted to remember her on my blog.

          R IP Sachi!

                                                                                I love you

Happy New Year!

“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

https://www.brainyquote.com/lists/topics/top-10-new-years-quotes

https://BeverleyBateman.com

#NewYear #Hope #Love 

Excerpt From Death Southern Style

Our last group blog of the year is to write a short story, flash fiction, or present an excerpt from one of your books.

My original plan was to write a short story. Then the holidays crept up and suddenly it’s time to post and I haven’t written anything, at least not a short story for this post. I have been writing on Death Southern Style and it’s almost finished, and I have the cover now, which I will reveal shortly.

So, I decided I’d share an excerpt from Death Southern Style.

After Julie paid the taxi she stood on the street and stared at the small sign tacked over the door of the old wooden house, Chez Voodoo.

She had come here with her mother often and was comfortable with voodoo. She knew it always focused on the positive. It had never been frightening. She was sure voodoo had nothing to do with her mother’s death, but the doll in her hotel room upset her. Other than trying to scare her away, what could it possibly mean? Priestess Ava might be able to help her.

She walked through the store and the door into the church. A tall black woman wearing a long white dress with a white apron and a white scarf tied around her head, turned around when Julie Ann entered the room.

“Julie Ann Dupré, child, welcome.” She hurried across and wrapped her arms around Julie Ann. “I am so sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thank you.” Julie Ann returned the hug and felt the energy flow from Priestess Ava. She soaked it in before she finally pulled back. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Your mother’s death? Of course, although I’m not sure how I can help. Shall we go and sit in the courtyard?”

“That would be nice.” Julie murmured. She liked it out there. Riots of red, orange, yellow, purple and coral colors filled the flower beds, attracting butterflies, birds and bees. Street noises never entered the area. It was an area of serenity and peace. And it always felt cool, despite the temperature.

“I found this in my hotel room this morning.” Julie Ann handed the voodoo doll to Ava.

Ava regarded it carefully before she touched it.

“This was in your hotel room?”

Julie Ann nodded.

“How did it get there?”

“I don’t know. The door and the window were both locked. When I touched it, I could see a group, not one person, but several and all very blurry.”

“I see. This is a voodoo doll, but not one of mine. Someone could have bought it from any of the local shops. It’s one made for tourists and then they added the blood. It’s a warning and meant to scare you.”

“It does scare me. I guess if I left all this alone, accepted the police report and went back to New York maybe I’d be safe.”

“That’s possible. It could be that’s what they hoped you would do when you got this.If you do leave New Orleans the people doing this might feel less threatened.”

“I can’t. For mom’s sake, I can’t let this be swept under the rug. I need answers and a motive. Besides, if the motive has something to do with her past or maybe about me, how can I be sure I’m safe even in New York? Do you know anything about my past?”

“No, Perrine never discussed it. It was obvious you were adopted but she never shared any information about your parents or where you came from. You are going to stay in New Orleans?”

“Yes, I’m staying at home. I’m hoping I might pick up something there or Perrine might talk to me.”

“You must be very careful. Many things in life don’t make sense. Stay open minded; listen to your spirits – Perrine may talk to you or send someone else.”

“I’ll try to be patient and careful. I hope someone will talk to me. When did you see Perrine last?”

“Actually, it was the day before she died. She dropped by for tea.”

“What did you talk about?”

“You, of course. She was so excited that you were coming home. She said she had a surprise for you.

“What was it?” Julie asked eagerly.

“I didn’t ask. I’m sure you’ll probably find out. Maybe she’d bought you a gift?”

“There was nothing in the house – unless that was what was stolen.”

“Ask some of her friends, maybe they know.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Have you made any plans for the funeral yet?”

“No, I haven’t talked to her friends yet. Savannah mentioned Charlie wants to do it up in style and have an old-fashioned funeral with a band and a parade from the church to the cemetery.”

“That sounds wonderful. Perrine deserves it and the neighborhood will get a chance to mourn her in style. Good for Charlie.”

“I need to talk to him. Would you speak?”

“I’d be honored. Let me know when and where. Now I’m going to give you a special packet of mine. I want you to keep it on you at all times. It is to protect you against unknown threats and danger.” Ava slipped into the church and came back a few minutes later with a small ball wrapped in cotton muslin tied tightly at the top.

She held it over Julie Ann’s palm and mumbled a few words before she handed it to her. “Now put it in your pocket and keep it there. Keep it on you at all times, day or night. Promise me.”

“I will.” Julie Ann obeyed and stuffed it in her pocket. “Thanks, Ava. I don’t know that I need any protection, but I’ll be careful.”

  “You take care now.” Ava gave Julie Ann a hug and watched her go.

Maybe I should have made the potion stronger. There’s an aura around her that says she’s going to have to face some life-threatening challenges.

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. Now please check out these other authors and see what they have chosen to do for you.

Connie Vines http://mizging.blogspot.com/

Skye Taylor  http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea

Victoria Chatham  http://www.victoriachatham.com

Marci Baun  http://www.marcibaun.com/blog/

Dr. Bob Rich  https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1Ng

Anne Stenhouse  http://annestenhousenovelist.wordpress.com

A.J. Maguire  http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/

Fiona McGier  http://www.fionamcgier.com/

Diane Bator  http://dbator.blogspot.ca/

Rhobin L Courtright  http://www.rhobincourtright.com

Check Out The Fourth Victim

EXCERPT From The Fourth Victim by Beverley Bateman

Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. She vows never to let a man take over her life again. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women.

 

Mac is has been responsible for training women in special ops techniques so they are prepared when they are challenged to save other women. When he meets Sara sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.

 

Sara graduates and now she and her team have to save Sara’s daughter from a serial killer. Can Mac step back and trust her in a dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues, or will they go in opposite directions?

EXCERPT From The Fourth Victim #MFRWhooks

#MFRWhooks  #Mystery #Romance #Christmas #Read

EXCERPT From The Fourth Victim #MFRWhooks

Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. She vows never to let a man take over her life again. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women.
 
Mac is has been responsible for training women in special ops techniques so they are prepared when they are challenged to save other women. When he meets Sara sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.
 
Sara graduates and now she and her team have to save Sara’s daughter from a serial killer. Can Mac step back and trust her in a dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues, or will they go in opposite directions?

 

 

Buy links:

Excerpt

The office said he’d had a heart attack. Was he alive? Did she want him to be? What if her husband had to stay home for a few weeks to recuperate? Palms sweating, Sara’s breath came in short, shallow bursts at the thought.

The taxi jerked to a stop in front of the hospital emergency entrance.

Sara fumbled through her purse and counted out her meager number of dollar bills. Gordon didn’t allow her to have a credit card and he only allowed her to have a small amount of cash. She didn’t have enough money to pay the taxi.

“I’m so sorry. I left home without any cash. I...I ... Would you take a check?” Tears spilled over and trickled down her flushed cheeks.

The driver spun around. A short stubby finger waved at the sign over the rearview mirror. “Look lady, it says right there - No Checks.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. My husband has had a heart attack and I ... I don’t know what to do.” Sara ran her fingers through her hair and scrunched the tight bun at her neck.

The driver shook his head. “Aw, shit. Go ahead, lady. Write the check.”

Sara pulled the single crumpled check Gordon allowed her carry for emergencies out of her purse. When she touched the check a vision of Gordon floated in front of her.

She froze and rapidly blinked her eyes. She only saw the ghosts of dead people. Gordon didn’t believe her and forbid her to ever mention it.

Could he really be dead?

“Gordon?” she whispered.

“Lady, are you writing that check or not?”

“Yes, sorry.” Sara scribbled her signature on the bottom of the check. “Please, fill it in, and give yourself a generous tip. Thank you, thank you so much.” She clutched her worn purse to her chest, slid out of the cab, and scurried through the emergency room doors.

What if he was dead? She didn’t have any money. Gordon did all the finances and never shared anything with her.  How would she manage?

Twenty years ago, she could have handled it. Could she do it again? But he couldn’t be dead. Gordon would never allow that to happen.

His face flitted in front of her, fixed in an angry glare.

He had to be dead or she wouldn’t be seeing him. He didn’t want to be dead. He didn’t want her to be free. If he thought she could see him he’d be furious.

Sara shuffled toward the reception desk. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for some sign of Gordon, listening for his voice, waiting for him to yell at her. She couldn’t believe he was really dead, even though she had seen him. She clung to the edge of the transition counter, her head down, chewed on her lower lip and waited to be noticed.

Finally a brusque voice snapped, “Can I help you?”

Sara looked up to see a heavy set, older woman in a loose blue top. The woman’s thick dark brows met in a v in the middle of her forehead.

“I’m sorry, I ...I’m looking for my husband. His office phoned to say he’d been brought here.” Sara shrunk into her body.

“Name?” the woman commanded.

“Gordon, Gordon Peters.” Sara stared at her worn black oxfords, then at the scuffed, gray linoleum with the red, blue and yellow lines that led to different areas.  Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe she should have waited for Gordon to call and tell her whether she should be here or not. But if he was dead she would have to make her own decisions. Her pulse raced. Her head pounded. For the last nineteen years she had never made a decision. Gordon made all of them for her.

“When was he admitted?” The woman reminded Sara of a sergeant major.

“I’m not sure, less than an hour ago. They told me to meet him here. Maybe he’s been discharged already?” She chewed her thumbnail. If Gordon had been discharged, he’d be furious at her for spending all that money on a taxi.  But she’d seen his ghost.

Tension twisted her stomach into knots. The pain caused her to clutch her purse tightly against her abdomen. She needed to get home and start dinner. She’d have to take a bus. Did she have enough money? She opened her purse.

The woman moved to a second pile of folders and pulled one out. “You’re his wife?”

Sara nodded. “Yes. Can I see him?”

A sob slipped out. If she didn’t find see him soon, he’d be furious. He’d think she was too stupid to even find him in a hospital and he’d be right.

His ghost floated in front of her. This time confusion mixed with his anger

“Have a seat, Mrs. Peters. I’ll have the doctor speak to you.” The sergeant major’s voice softened. She indicated a chair near the desk.

“No, please, I need to see him right away. He’ll be upset if I’m late.”

The woman rounded the desk and laid her hand on Sara’s shoulder. She squeezed gently for a second. “It’ll be okay, honey. You just sit down for a minute. The doctor will be right out.”

 

 

 

Targeted by Beverley Bateman #MFRWhooks

Targeted by Beverley Bateman #MFRWhooks

After and eleven year absence Janna Kincaid inherits a ranch and is forced to return to a town she only remembers with unhappiness, a man to whom she was briefly married and never wants to see again, and someone is trying to kill her.

Kye Hawkins has loved Janna since he first met her. They were married but a few weeks later she ran away, without an explanation. He still hasn’t figured out why. Now she’s coming back. Does she still love him? Can he rekindle the romance and also prevent her from being killed.  

Janna doesn’t want Kye’s help in anyway, yet he always seems to be there when she’s in trouble. Can they work together to find a killer, save the Native burial ground and home of the spirits, and find romance again?

 

Targeted by Beverley Bateman #MFRWhooks

#Western #Mystery #Romance #Christmas