Excerpt
In my line of work, it helped to be proactive, but when I awoke with a start and hurried downstairs, I wasn’t thinking about my response time. I never stopped to consider the possibility of an enemy seated on my front porch.

I didn’t think about bedhead or my lack of sweatpants. I just swung the door open and blinked. “What’s the matter? It’s three in the morning!”

Carter LeBlanc, also known as Deputy Charming, looked amused. “I may regret this but need to ask. Are you allergic to fabric or opposed to seeing me with your clothes on? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining.”

I stood there in temporary shock, blinded by the flashlight in my eyes and very much wishing that I could start again.

“Be right back. Hold that thought.” I slammed the door in Carter’s face.

As luck would have it when I didn’t have any luck at all, Carter had never looked better and I’d never looked worse.

He wasn’t there on a social call so there wasn’t time to evaluate what he may or may not have been thinking. At three in the morning, it couldn’t be good. In some ways, my boy shorts and tank top bought some much needed time.

Given Carter’s distressed look, I needed reinforcements and knew where to find them. It was one of the things that I loved about Sinful. My friends were on speed dial and could be there in a matter of minutes.

I jumped into a pair of light-denim jeans and nearly fell on my face when my foot slipped into one of the knee holes. Regaining my balance, I shrugged on a pale green sweatshirt and called Gertie. “Come to the house as soon as you can.”

I didn’t wait for a response. Instead, I called Ida Belle and delivered the same instructions.


Hopping around, I attempted to put on one large white furry rabbit slipper while locating another. I then peered outside and scanned the yard below.

No visible dead bodies. Always a plus.

In my Louisiana backyard, one couldn’t be too sure.

Racing back to the foyer, I painted on a sweet smile, opened the door, and said, “Ah, Carter, what a great surprise. Bet you’d love a cup of coffee. Want to come in?”

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I wanted to have a private conversation with you. I’m guessing one or two seniors will soon join us.”

“Don’t be silly.” I chuckled. “This is an anti-Celia zone. What you say here will stay here.”

“Uh-huh.” He followed me inside. “Maybe until I leave.”