Same old Kye #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?

Kye filled the doorway, standing there looking regal and completely self confident. Tall and good looking, eyes that could always see right through her and that shy smile she’d felt was reserved mostly for her. She’d fallen in love with him soon after they’d met. She’d been about five at the time. He was smart, and there was something about him, an unfathomable depth, like he’d been here for many centuries. She remembered thinking at the time, I’m going to marry him when I grow up.

She felt that same pull, even after all these years.

No, I’m not going back there. Yes, I’d married him, like I’d said, but it hadn’t worked the first time. No way would she open herself to that pain again.

“Is there anyone else living here?” Janna asked.

“No. Why would you ask that?”

“For one thing, the house isn’t covered in dust and cobwebs. For another, I thought I saw a shadow heading upstairs.”

“You saw someone upstairs?”

“It was probably my imagination.”

“We don’t want to take any chances. I’ll check upstairs.”

“No, its okay. I can do it later.”

“I’m checking it now.” Kye strode by her, brushing her arm as he past. He climbed the stairs two at a time.

At his touch, the electric current sent synapses through her body, which responded, but her mind said ‘same old Kye, always taking charge.’

She headed toward the kitchen and found a kettle. By the time he came back down, she had her emotions under control and bit her tongue to refrain from commenting on taking orders from him.

“There’s no one up there, and no sign of anyone. There was an open window upstairs. I don’t remember leaving it open when I was here. Anyway, I closed it and locked it.”

“Thanks for checking. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. As for the house, Duke’s been gone for several weeks. The place was tossed when he was killed. No one’s been out here since. When I heard you were coming back, I came out and straightened up a bit. I didn’t want you to see what a mess they’d left.”

“Who left the mess?”

“They said it was an intruder, the one who shot Duke.”

“But you don’t believe it?”

“I think someone killed Duke and then tossed the place looking for something, probably his Will.”

“You think someone killed him because of the ranch?”

Kye nodded.

Janna met his eyes and saw real concern there. He knew how she would have felt if she’d walked into the mess. She wondered where Duke’s body had been found.

“Here, in the kitchen, by the stove. He was shot three times in the chest.”

It was like he’d read her mind.

August News

The corona virus is still with us. Areas are opening up but, in my area, very slowly. Elective surgery is open, barbers, hairdressers and nail technicians are open, Gyms and fitness centres are open but with limited numbers on site and restrictions. Nightclubs, entertainment, festivals and major events are still restricted. Masks are recommended but we have only had a total of 61 cases since the beginning. People talk about getting back to normal. I don’t think we’ll get back to what was normal. I think it’s going to be a ‘new’ normal. As a writer I am adjusting, but not accomplishing what I should. My brain tends to be mush many days. I didn’t realize how much socialization does to keep me stimulated. I stare at the TV and movies, answer and send emails and read.

This month, Death Southern Style, both eBook and print, is up for sale. Here’s the link to order.

https://www.amazon.com/Death-Southern-Style-Beverley-Bateman-ebook/dp/B089VRC1WR/

Here’s another excerpt from Death Southern Style.

The heat and humidity of a New Orleans day after a rainstorm blasted Julie Ann when she stepped through the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International airport doors to the taxi area. She’d forgotten how that combination could make it difficult to catch your breath in the south. It was a different humidity than New York.

A redcap flagged a cab for her and put her luggage in the trunk. She tipped him before she slid into the back seat. She gave her home address and sank into the cushions. She avoided any eye contact that could lead to conversation with the driver. She was too tired for trivial chitchat and she needed to prepare herself for the return to an empty house and the loss of her mother.

That sounded so dramatic but what it really was, was sad. The tears gathered and spilled over. She dug out a Kleenex and dabbed at them trickling down her cheeks. She tried to muffle the sobs.

The taxi weaved through moderate traffic. It was about a thirty-minute drive without construction and heavy traffic. Julie Ann stared out the window.

Crepe myrtle trees dotted the landscape. She’d forgotten the beautiful pink and white blossoms. The taxi passed Metairie Cemetery off to the left. It reminded her she would need to find a cemetery for her mother. Her mother’s body – it sounded do strange to think that. Had her soul left her body? Was it still in the area? Would Julie Ann be able to sense it?

Shot? A robbery? Why? Whom? It was a good neighborhood. There would be a funeral to arrange. Hopefully some of the neighbors would help. They were all good people. A random act of violence? It happened. Were Savannah and Charlie still there? Of course, they were, and they’d be there to support her. Savannah and Perrine had been close. She’d always known them as Savannah and Charlie, or Sweetness. What were their last names?

The thought of how her mother had died kept recurring over and over. Her parents had lived in the same house for thirty years. Perrine had been raised in that house on that street and so had Julie Ann. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Perrine. They also knew she had nothing to steal. If anyone wanted anything she had, she probably would have given it to them. Maybe the person was looking for cash, but they would have been disappointed. Maybe that’s why they shot her, because she didn’t have anything.

Did her mother have a burial vault already? Hopefully she’d left some instructions somewhere. Mom had a lawyer when Julie Ann last visited. Who was it? She couldn’t remember, but she’d need to talk to him or her. So many things to do.

Allison, her new partner, had said she’d take over Julie Ann’s clients, but they might have to wait a little longer for service. She’d met Allison in Chicago. They’d hit it off and complemented each other’s designs. Now if clients had to wait Julie Ann didn’t worry about it. Allison would do her best. And if Julie Ann had to, she’d built the business once, she could do it again. Looking back, if she only hadn’t worked so hard at building it, she might have come home more often so she and her mother could have spent more time together. Regrets overwhelmed her. That was time she’d never get back.

She would stay in New Orleans as long as it took to handle all her mother’s affairs. And to find out what had really happened.

The taxi took the Vieux Carre exit off ramp and turned into the downtown area. It drove past old buildings locked and boarded.

Thirty minutes later he stopped in front of her home. Julie Ann didn’t move.

The yellow crime scene tape across the front door of the pale blue house screamed that her mother wouldn’t be opening the door. Someone had tacked a black wreath over top of the yellow tape.

“Ma’am, excuse me? Is this the correct address?” The driver turned his head toward her.

Julie Ann nodded. She reached over to open the door. Her feet felt like cement. She slid across the seat and out the door. She kept her eyes focused on the tape, unable to look away.

Julie Ann paid him and stood on the sidewalk, her luggage beside her where the driver had dropped them. She continued to stare at the house when the taxi pulled away.

She waited for her mother to throw open the door and run down the stairs to envelop her in an enormous hug. That’s how it should have been. It wouldn’t happen now. In her head, Julie Ann knew that, but she still waited.

Gradually she forced herself to face reality. She couldn’t enter the house with all that yellow tape. And there was more tape across the gate and a few markers on the ground between in front of the house. Was that where her mother had been shot? If it was, she wasn’t even in the house. Why would a burglar shoot her? It made less sense than the robbery as a motive.

She stared at the yellow tape. Now what?

That sheriff hadn’t said anything about not being able to go into her house.

While she stood there, she could feel someone watching her.

She glanced around, but the street appeared empty. Was someone inside her house? It wasn’t a threatening feeling. It felt more like someone was watching, like her mother, waiting for her to come inside.

She took a step toward the house. She’d told the police she would arrive today. How long were they going to keep that damn tape up?

And where was she going to sleep tonight?

Anger replaced lethargy. Julie Ann grabbed her cell phone and punched in the number for the operator.

“How may I help y’all?”

“Could you please connect me to the French Quarter police station? Thank you.” Julie Ann tapped the toe of her four-inch stiletto heel as she waited. She kept glancing around the neighborhood.

“Police station, how may I direct your call?”

“Sheriff Tozer, please.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, he’s not in the office at the moment.”

“Then please connect me to whoever is in charge of the Dupré case?”

“Sorry, which case?”

“The Dupré case - the woman who was murdered in her house yesterday.”

“Oh yeah, the robbery vic. Hold on. Deputy Sheriff O’Reilly’s on call. I don’t know if he’s in.”

“If he’s not, find me someone who is in. I want to get in the damn house.” Julie Ann snapped

“Ma’am?”

“That robbery victim was my mother. It’s my house and I want the damn tape removed so I can get into my own home. I’m standing out front in this damn heat right now. You find someone and get them over here ASAP to get that goddamn tape off my door or I’ll take it down myself.” Julie Ann clicked the phone off and dropped it in her purse.

You can follow me and check out where I’ll be this month – and some have giveaways:

August 1 on Eclectic Authors with Janet lane Walters https://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com/

August 7 - 31 Rafflecopter with give-aways. http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e226730a61/?

August 13 N.N. Light’s Book Heaven Binge-Worthy Book Festival and enter for an Amazon gift card https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com

August 20^th on Actually Alethea with Alethea Williams https://actuallyalethea.blogspot.com/

August 22 The Group blog ‘To make a story seem and feel more realistic to the reader, what elements do you include in your stories?’ on my blog at https://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/

August 30 on Romance Lives Forever https://www.rlfblog.com/

I continue writing 100 words a day and report my word count to the ‘100 words a day’ group. I’m working on The Foundation Lydia’s Story, the second in the series, which I’ve mentioned before. It’s slow slogging.

I’m still thinking about one or two ideas for a short novella. I’d like to do one on maybe, magic, psychics and fun things like that. And maybe a Covid romance. We’ve had a couple in my town that I blogged about. I’ll talk more about that next month. Hopefully I might even have it started.

And you can follow me follow me on my blog https://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/ for how I’m doing, tips, hints and guest authors.

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?

Deep breath, Janna.

Splintered glass spread in a two foot semi-circle on the plush, cream colored, wool carpet. Janna jerked to a stop so she didn’t get splinters in her bare feet.

“You might want to put on some shoes, ma’am.” Delaney glanced at her feet, then pulled a small camera from his pocket and started to snap pictures of the area.

Janna nodded and found a pair of old runners under her couch. She slid them on but didn’t bother with the laces.

“Then I’m guessing he headed toward my bedroom. I heard a thud. I think he hit the coffee table.” Janna jerked at the hem of her nightshirt and indicated the large oak table in front of her brown, leather couch.

Delaney nodded and he snapped a few pictures of the solid oak and glass coffee table with the replica of the statue of David in the center. “We can get forensics to check and see if maybe he left any DNA when he hit it. They should be here shortly. You keep saying he, do you know who it might have been?”

“I have no idea. I just use ‘he’ because I don’t think of a woman doing this.”

A smile slipped across Delaney’s craggy face. “Oh, they do it all right.”

Janna moved through her open bedroom door. “He turned the knob and opened this door. He took a couple of shots in the direction of the bed and then left. At least it sounded like a gun with a silencer, and there were a couple of small flashes.”

“A silencer or suppressor can make the shot a lot quieter, but you will still hear it.”

Delaney said.

When she flipped on the light, Janna looked at the queen-sized bed with the mauve, shamrock green, and white floral duvet thrown back to reveal the matching and expensive mauve cotton sheets and pillow cases. This lovely set brought her pleasure each time she saw it—but not tonight.

There were two holes. One was in the mauve covered pillow. The second went through the blanket and sheet she’d pushed together when she slid out of bed. They were bunched together and could have been the outline of a body. The shot could have been about her heart level.

The enormity of the situation punched her in the stomach. A wall of nausea crashed over her. She reached for the wall to steady herself. Her gaze focused on the bed, unable to look away.

“Ohmigawd,” her chest felt like a hundred pound weight was sitting on it. Janna struggled to take a breath.

“You might want to sit down.” Delaney touched her shoulder and motioned her back to the living room.

Nodding, Janna moved robot-like to the couch, still in her nightshirt.

Someone tried to kill me. They really tried to kill me. If I hadn’t woken up, there would have been one shot in my head and another in my heart. I would be dead, not trying to figure out who fired the shots.

When she flopped down, the butter soft leather felt cool against the back of her thighs. She pulled her legs up under her and tucked in the hem of her nightshirt. She rocked back and forth. She could be dead right now. Her life could be over at twenty-nine.

He hadn’t broken in to steal anything. He’d broken in to kill her. If she hadn’t heard him and hidden behind the door…

Why? Why would someone want to kill me?

July News

July has July 1^st, Canada Day, and July 4^th, Independence Day in the United States. I don’t know about you and where you live, but in Canada most of the usual Canada Day celebrations have been canceled, across Canada, due to the Corona virus. And group celebrations, including fireworks displays have been canceled. We are limited to a few drive-through events like pancake breakfasts and small family barbeques in the backyard, while still social distancing. Fireworks are virtual. Happy Canada Day!

The corona virus, as I mentioned for Canada day, is still with us and affecting our lifestyles. As a writer I am adjusting. I think it’s going to be with us for awhile. To help the economy recover I’m following the measures health officials recommend. I’m wearing a mask to protect other people and maybe myself. I’m social distancing and washing my hands. Actually, I even wear gloves in stores so I’m not touching items and spreading anything that way. I’m staying home and at first that was kind of ‘brain fogging’, but that’s passing. Now I’m actually sorting and organizing files, writing, reading and meditating. And I even learned Zoom.

I hope everyone is coping and staying safe through this challenging time and celebrating all occasions sensibly. Have a quiet summer.

Inside the house Julie Ann turned back to Savannah. “I’m going to find out what happened to Mom. She shouldn’t have died that way and I’m going to find out why.”

“You be careful girl. There’s something evil going on around here. I don’t know what it is, but you don’t wanna to get involved. I notice you didn’t explain that sixth sense of yours to the policeman.”

Julie Ann managed a weak smile. “I didn’t think he was up for that. He got that weird look on his face when I showed him the voodoo doll and again when I mentioned sensing something. He’s not a believer. Besides, I don’t totally understand that sensing thing myself. I’ve always tried to avoid using it. Most people think I’m crazy when I say something about seeing or sensing something. Perrine was the one with that skill or power. She encouraged me to work with it and strengthen it. She knew she was going to die.”

“You sensed that?”

“Yes, when I came into the house. She ran so she didn’t die in the house.”

“That makes sense. Now you think Perrine might try to talk to you?”

“Uh huh, I’m hoping she might. Mom would want me to find out what happened. And she’d be happy if I tried to improve my sensing and vision skills. We both know Perrine’s not going to be able to rest peacefully until we find out what really happened and why. And I get the feeling there’s something she wants me to know. I think it’s in a brown envelope – somewhere.”

“And you know this how?”

“When I said good-bye to her today, I got flashes.”

“Yup, that’s Perrine trying to get through to you, sure ‘nuff, but I don’t want you gettin’ in any trouble. She’ll never rest if something happens to you.”

“I’ll be fine, Savannah. Really, I will. I’ll be careful. I don’t have a choice. Now, how about you whippin’ me up some of your special red beans and rice. Nobody makes it quite like you and I haven’t had it since I moved to New York.”

“You’ve got it, girl. You come on over to my place and let me see if we can put a few pounds on those skinny bones of yours.”

“That sounds good. And for the record, I think you know more than you’re telling anyone. You’ve known Perrine for a very long time. You know more about my birth mother than Mom

ever told me.”

“Now baby girl, don’ you start going there. That’s nothin’ but trouble.”

“It’s time I knew what Perrine would never discuss and you will tell me. There’s a good chance it has to do with why they killed her.”

Savannah heaved herself up from the chair and wrapped an arm around Julie Ann’s shoulder.

“We’ll see, we’ll see… Let’s see what Perrine says first.”

“If she says anything, but if she doesn’t you are going to tell me what you know. It’s time I learned the truth.”

“You sound like your mother. We’ll talk later.”

“I’m holding you to that. Now, I’m going to see Priestess Ava. I need to talk to her. You make those red beans and rice for dinner. I’ll be back shortly.”

Savannah nodded. “Priestess Ava is a good idea. She’ll help you.”

They moved to the door together. Something made Julie Ann glance over her shoulder back into the living room. A shadow disappeared into a corner.

Who was it? Was it the murderer? Were the spirits restless? Was it her mother? Or just her imagination?

You can also follow me and check me out:

July Enter to win 1 of 4 gift cards https://www.redcarpetfiction.com/bookbub-july-2020
July Enter to win 1 of 4 gift cards https://www.redcarpetfiction.com/amazon-july-2020

July 20^th on Ellen Mint
https://ellenmint.blog/2020/07/20/death-southern-style-by-beverley-bateman/

July 25^th on my blog
https://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/ a group blog on “How do you develop a character who is different in personality from all the other characters you have developed, or from yourself?”

July 29^th on Dee Knight
http://www.nomadauthors.com/blog/

I have continued writing 100 words a day and report my word count to the ‘100 words a day’ group. I’m working on The Foundation Lydia’s Story, the second in the series, which I’ve mentioned before. I’m about one third of the way through it. I’ll be working on it for quite awhile. Hopefully Not as long as it took me to write Death Southern Style.

I’m also thinking I might write a short novella. I’m sort of noodling on that. I’ll talk more about that next month.

And you can follow me follow me on my blog https://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/ for how I’m doing, Canada Day, tips and guest authors.

“He’d been sucker punched.” #MFRWhooks

HUNTED is the first in the series about the Hawkins ranch and the Hawkins men. It’s a romantic suspense set in Duster, a fictional, small town in Montana.

Staying alive wasn’t Maggie McGonagall’s first concern.

Could she convince the man she hadn’t planned on ever seeing again, to accept and protect, a son he didn’t know about? Once she managed that, she’d figure out how to keep herself from getting killed.

Cody Hawkins came running when the woman he wanted to forget called him for help. Could he help her, and walk away?

The Hawkins ranch was Maggie’s second home growing up. She’d been in love with Cody ever since she met him when she was ten years old. Until her late teens Cody never showed interest in her as a person.

One night, caught in a cabin in a thunder storm they had made love. Maggie thought Cody finally realized he loved her. He had to leave on a cattle drive the next day and was gone for several weeks.

While he was gone Maggie found out she was pregnant. She planned to tell cod, but when he returned home she found him in the arms of another woman. To prevent embarrassing her family as an unwed mother she left Duster.

Moving to Chicago she worked as a receptionist in an accountant’s office. One night she forgot a book she’d been reading. Returning to the office she opened the door just as shots were fired and the accountant fell to the floor. Two men trained their guns on her. She ran and escaped.

It had been a mafia contract killing. The FBI found her and Maggie testified, sending everyone involved to prison.

After delivering a healthy baby boy, they are both put into the witness protection plan. She’s been living in Seattle, under an assumed name, with her son ever since.

Cody returned from the cattle drive after a disastrous mistake on his part, expecting to find Maggie waiting for him. Instead, she had left town. No one would tell him where she went. He tracked her to Great Falls but then she completely disappeared off the face of the earth. He’s been angry with her for running out on him, ever since.

After seven years someone is trying to kill Maggie. She’s convinced the mafia has finally found her. She contacts Cody. She wants him to protect their son.

CHAPTER TWO

Cody felt like he’d been sucker punched.

Clutching his Stetson in front of him he glanced from Maggie to the bathroom. “What the hell are you talking about?”

This dark haired boy with intense blue eyes, a missing front tooth and an infectious grin looked like a nice enough kid, but… “You want me to what?”

Maggie lowered her voice. “Shh, not so loud, I need you to take Matt back to the ranch and keep him safe.”

“Have you lost your mind? Why would you want me to do that?”

“Because I need someone I trust to keep him safe. If Matt stays with me, he’s in danger and could be killed.”

“You don’t just send your kid away with a stranger.”

“Sometimes you do, but you’re not a stranger. You protected me growing up. I just need you to protect him, now. I’m sure my parents will help look after him.”

“Protect him from what?”

“Here, Mommy.” Matt handed her a glass. The water sloshed onto Maggie’s shoes and the carpet.

“Thank you, honey.” She took the glass and gave him a squeeze. “Why don’t you turn the TV on? You can watch cartoons for a few minutes.”

“Yippee.” He raced across the room to the bed, bouncing onto it.

Cody stared at her as she watched Matt grab the remote and turn on the TV. When the TV screen came into focus, Matt flopped down on his stomach and clicked until he found a cartoon channel. His chin on his hands, he stared intently on the program.

“Okay, Maggie, give. What the hell is this all about?” Cody lowered his voice.

She sipped the water. “Can I get you a drink? There’s a mini bar.”

“Beer, please.”

Placing her glass on the dresser, she bent down and opened the door, exposing her well-formed butt.

He jammed his hands into his jean pockets to keep from placing them on her provocative posterior. She was driving him crazy with her sexy body and her refusal to explain why she wanted him to take her son back to the ranch. Protect him from what?

“Have a seat.” She indicated one of the antique chairs with arms and she handed him the beer.

He continued to stand, downed half the can in one swallow and wiped his mouth.

God, she looked terrific. When he’d finally noticed her in her late teens, she’d always looked exactly like a woman should look; great smile, slim figure with nice breasts and butt, and long sexy legs. She’d gained a few pounds in all the right places, which only made her sexier. Her jeans emphasized her adorable bottom, and the low-cut t-shirt showed off the tops of well-rounded breasts. She looked more sensuous and desirable with clothes on than that last time he’d seen her lying naked on his bed with all that red hair fanned out on his pillow.

And she wanted him to take her kid. What part of this wasn’t he getting?

“So spill it. Why do you want me to take your son back to the ranch?”

“You want the long version or the short one.” She sat. The sunlight that shafted through the window made the highlights in her hair light up like fire.

“Don’t be cute. Just cut to the bottom line.”

“Someone is trying to kill me. I don’t want Matt to get hurt, or maybe killed, because he’s with me.”

Cody felt like he’d been thrown by a horse and then stomped on. In the last few minutes, this woman had sent him reeling in all directions. He had no idea what she was talking about.

Killers were after her and Matt?

Hunted: Hawkins Ranch Series #MFRWhooks