First released in 2004 as part of an anthology, Frannie makes her single title debut today. So if you like vamps with lots of action, humor and red hot loving, here’s your second chance to discover life as one of the newly undead through Frannie’s eyes!
“…Frannie and Niall are a lusty couple that will make you laugh out loud. Niall’s patience is continually tested by Frannie’s outrageous actions. The author has created a wonderful couple that will not be forgotten…”
5 Flames, Tewanda, Sizzling Romances on FRANKIE ‘N’ THE PRIVATE DICK
“Vampires can have love lives just as screwed up as anybody else’s, and here’s the proof.”
Hoot Island on FRANKIE ‘N’ THE PRIVATE DICK
Bent on catching her cheating fiancé in the act, Frannie Valentine got sidetracked by a little thing like dying. When she awakens, Frannie learns her pampered “life” will never be the same, so she turns to the man responsible for her “undeadness” and demands he take on the responsibility of teaching her the biz-the PI biz.
Niall Keegan never intended to make himself a mate, but Frannie’s string of minor disasters, which ended with her dying in his arms, took the decision right out of his hands. While the mating part isn’t bad, making the disaster-prone Frannie a PI may just be the death of him.
Niall Keegan waited in an anteroom of the funeral home hidden behind a thick velvet curtain as mourners gathered in the parlor. Dusk had fallen an hour ago, and he’d hurried here to continue his vigil.
However, he had taken the precaution of feeding just before entering the building—on a haughty doorman at a hotel he’d passed, and then a woman walking her ferociously growling Pekinese.
His appetite had been off since the night he drank from the fragrantly delicious vessel that was Francesca Valentine. But he’d forced himself to feed anyway. Tonight, he’d need his strength.
Guilt and anticipation made his stomach roil. It wasn’t every day a man took a mate. Not that he’d given the idea much thought before that night outside the Lizards ‘n’ Suds as he’d held her slender, fragile body while her life slipped away. But Frannie’s pale face and large, brown eyes had pleaded with him to end her pain. She lay dying because of him.
He hadn’t any choice. If he had, he might have gone for someone a little less flashy—less obviously high-maintenance. Someone less self-absorbed. But he couldn’t regret the package. He could lose himself for months, maybe years, exploring her sweetly curved body.
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