Jag Peters and Rena Jett are caught in a triangle of souls with the ghost of Sam Jett as the connecting factor leading them to love and redemption.
Jag Peters has one goal in his quiet comfortable life—to keep his karma slate wiped clean. A near-miss crash with a candy apple red Harley threatens to upend his safe world. He tracks down the rider to apologize properly. Slipping into a seedy biker bar, he discovers the rider isn't a "he", it's a "she", a dark-haired beauty.
Rena Jett is a troubled soul, who lives in a rough world. She wants no part of Jag's apology, but even while she pushes him away, she is attracted to him. When he claims to see a ghost—her brother—can she trust him? And could her brother's final gift, a magical rune stone with the symbol for "happily ever after" have the power to heal her wounds and allow opposites to find common ground—perhaps even love?
Excerpt
“What is it that you want, Rena Jett?” Jag asked quietly as he again scanned the trees looking for movement.
She tossed another pebble into the stream. “Maybe a friend. That would be nice.” She turned her dark eyes toward him.
He loved the way they changed with her mood. They could flash in anger and then sparkle with a smile.
Now they softened, and flecks of gold peeked through like the sun from behind a cloud.
“I’m good at that.” He cupped her chin with his free hand for a brief second. “And I don’t judge.”
“Yeah, I get it. I can read people and that’s how I saw you yesterday.”
A flash of desert camouflage rustled the trees. How could she not see this? But after her reaction, he couldn’t bring himself to mention it again. What the hell? I’m not a ghost-whisperer.
“You can talk to me, Rena.” He leaned in and pushed back a wisp of hair that fell across her forehead.
“Sam died four months ago in Afghanistan.” She put her head in her hands.
Jag sucked in a breath. “I’m truly sorry. Please tell me about your brother.”
She sniffled and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “He was my hero. I could always count on Sam. The day he joined the army it broke my heart. Then when they deployed him to Afghanistan, I panicked.”
Jag pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her. “Then what happened?”
“He never came back.” Silence filled the space between them. “They said he was a victim of a roadside bombing.”
A shadow passed over Rena, and Jag gaped at the soldier standing suddenly behind her. He started to say something, but the soldier put his fingers to his lips and shook his head.
“Rena, what did Sam look like?” Jag never took his eyes off the apparition.
“He wasn’t very tall for a man. He only stood a little over five-foot-eight, but he was as tough as they came. I never saw him lose a fight. I’m really cold all of a sudden.” She shivered visibly. “He had sandy brown hair and dimples on each side of his mouth when he smiled, which wasn’t very often.”
There was no doubt Rena described the soldier that stood behind her in Jag’s line of vision.
Maria, raised in the Mafia and educated by the gangs of New York, is hunting the man who killed her Akalina, and she will kill anyone who gets in her way.
