UPDATE: The winner is…ButtonsMom!
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I have a new-old story out! One of the stories returned to me by a former publisher. I’ve been working hard to get them all revised/expanded/refreshed so that I can share them with a brand new audience.
This time, it’s Frannie and The Private Dick! If you’ve read the rest of the Night Fall stories, then you know what to expect—humor, some suspense, and lots of sexy bits. Frannie has an extra pinch of humor. I’m sharing the first chapter here for you to sample. I hope you enjoy it—my gift to you!
For a chance to win a free copy of one of Frannie’s prequel books,
tell me how you plan to spend your Saturday!
Hope you enjoy this peek inside! ~DD
Frannie and 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 giving her a little job training—in 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.
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Get your copy here: Frannie
Francesca Valentine had died and gone to hell. No other explanation made sense. She swam back to awareness through a molasses-thick void to find herself suddenly spat out from a dark womb into a cold, hollow space. Blind, and so still she knew she didn’t breathe, her mind turned over like a sluggish engine before revving into high gear.
Quickly, she assessed what she knew. She lay on a hard surface, covered with a scratchy square of thin fabric, unable to move a muscle. A low whine, like that of an air-conditioner, came from the opposite side of the space. Harsh light shone from above, warming her face, but hurting her closed eyes. So, she probably wasn’t blind after all. But she was definitely dead. Stone-cold. Her chest wasn’t moving in and out, but she didn’t feel starved for air.
She knew who she was and what had killed her, but hadn’t a clue what new fix she’d landed herself in. From nearby came the scrape of footsteps and a tentative humming, then… Read the rest of this entry »