The millionaire. The orphaned Texan woman. The deadly night that changes everything. The contract that nobody bargained for.This rich guy and his friend show up, one's drunk as a skunk, the other has an accent matching mine. I wonder why this stranger is here, dressed to kill, hanging with the usual vagrants that patronize my fifty-dollar-a-night motel. When he leaves his wallet here by mistake, I end up learning a whole lot more about this Terence Daniels fellow than I ever dreamed. Unfortunately, he doesn't shed all the light, but when Ruby, his former lover, does, I realize why he kept mum…but I'm not about to keep my mouth shut.I don't trust her to keep my wallet safe, or to send it via courier, so I drive, from Louisiana to Dallas, again, to get it. In the few minutes that I talk to her, this time sober, I wish like hell that I didn't make the mistakes that I did. Before I know it, I'm emotionally involved with this woman, who runs a dilapidated motel, but has so much more promise. And days later, her world falls apart. Kobie is guarded, rightfully so, although what I offer her makes her eyes twinkle.But can what I've given her be the glue that holds us together? Or will Ruby's fate darken Kobie's future…HEA (Happily Ever After)Ranch romanceCowboy romanceMedium heatCourse languageCliffhanger ending Some have said that if you see me on the street (usually with a book in hand or a laptop fired up), I appear a cold, hard-fisted person. However, once we've spoken for five minutes or less, you'll have laughed at least once. That is, provided you appreciate sarcastic, self-deprecating wit.My first short story was penned in middle school and I was hooked ever since.I graduated with honours from Humber College and began working as an Administrative Coordinator for a large, multinational corporation shortly afterward. Quickly learning that the corporate world, despite the love I had for my job, is a slow killer of creativity, I chose to quit during maternity leave in 2006.Difficulty thinking outside the box soon evaporated when I received something that didn't come in one: my first child. While at home with the baby my imaginative energy got the better of me and my first memoir was written. It had been a dream of mine to write about my late father, who passed away from alcoholism in 1992, and it took me two years to compose a fifty-page manuscript, but I did it.After my second daughter was born in 2008 I had more fuel to write, and felt it necessary to voice the challenges and inherent gifts I acquired during my struggles with Scoliosis. Hence, my second memoir was born. The words flowed out of me with such ease I shocked myself.My love for words grew with each book I read and every word I wrote. I soon realized I had no more material to write non-fiction, which led me to take a stab at fiction. The next two books were such a revelation: it became more and more clear what my true calling was. The rest, as they say, is history!
