Aphrodite's Garden (A Fast Break Romance) (5 page)

WINNER OF THE PRESTIGIOUS HOLT MEDALLION

FOR EXCELLENCE IN SINGLE TITLE/MAINSTREAM

FICTION

Candi Heart is layers of mystery in a very appealing package. A lethal combination for Sheriff Grady Wallace.

Available at

www.bellbridgebooks.com
and

www.amazon.com

With a nickname like “Candi Heart” and a plan to open a frilly lingerie and perfume shops, Lark Hensley knows she may raise some eyebrows by moving to quiet Angel Ridge, Tennessee. She hopes no one remembers that the women in her family were once accused of being seductive witches by townsfolk, and that decades ago her moonshiner grandpa committed a deadly crime. Lark has questions she can’t answer and secrets she doesn’t want to share, especially with Angel Ridge Sheriff Grady Wallace, even if Grady is hard to resist.

Grady falls hard and quick for the new mystery woman in town, though he’s determined to find out what she’s hiding. Angel Ridge’s one-woman Welcome Committee, Dixie Ferguson, has taken a liking to Candi Heart, and Dixie’s instincts about newcomers are rarely wrong. Except maybe this time.

Grady never intended to follow the Wallace family tradi9tion of lawmen, but when his father died young, rebellious Grady grew quickly into the role of staunch town defender. Candi Heart may not have meant to bring trouble to his town, but she has.

Someone does remember her family. That someone wants her to leave . . . or to die. An unknown driver tries to run her down. Her shop is broken into. Rumors begin to swirl. Suddenly, Grady is caught between his duty and his heart.

I’ll Be There

Another Angel Ridge Novel

Available at

www.bellbridgebooks.com
and

www.amazon.com

In Angel Ridge, not much goes on around town in the winter. After Christmas, folks usually hunker down and wait for spring to come. But given recent events, which included a bombing and newspaper publisher Jenny Thompson’s disappearance, people in town are understandably on edge. Now Jenny’s in hiding on a nearby mountain, waiting for trouble to catch up with her and none too sure it hasn’t, when reclusive mountain man Cord Goins comes to her rescue. Stuck between a beginning and an ending, both she and Cord feel powerless to control the dangerous situation they’ve found themselves in.

*

Other Fast Break Romances by Deborah Grace Staley Available exclusively at www.amazon.com

Only .99 Each!

*

Read and Excerpt of
Only You

The first Angel Ridge Novel.

Hey, ya'll. Dixie Ferguson here. I run Ferguson's Diner in Angel Ridge, Tennessee. Population three hundred forty-five. Even though I wasn't born here, well, I call it home now, and most of the locals accept me as one of their own. Let me tell ya a little bit about our corner of the world.

It's a picturesque town in the valley of the Little Tennessee River, established in 1785. In the early days, its first families-the McKays, the Wallaces, the Houstons, the Joneses, and, of course, the Craigs-staked their claims on hundreds of acres of the richest bottom land anyone had ever seen. They built large homes near the meandering river and operated prosperous plantations. Well, all except for the Craigs. They were traders and craftsmen. Men of commerce, as it were. Meanwhile, the town developed above the river on a high ridge.

In the early 1970s, the Flood Control Board came in and bought up about all of the property along the flood prone river, and those stately homes that some called relics of a bygone era were inundated in the name of progress. But those who built more modest houses near town up on the ridge, well, their homes are still standin'. Of course, the families who lost theirs to the newly formed Tellassee Lake moved up to the ridge as well and built elaborate Victorian mansions such as this quaint little town had never seen.

Most of the families I mentioned earlier are still around.

These folks are hardy people. Why in all the time they've lived here, they've endured Indian attacks, floods, divided loyalties in the Civil War, and yes, even feuds. The older folks are still marked by the hardships of the past, but the young people of the town hope to move beyond old hurts to create a new generation made strong because of their roots, yet free of the past.

After all the years I've spent behind the counter at Ferguson's, I could probably tell ya'll a story about near everyone in town. But we only have so much time, so I'll narrow it down to just two for now.

This is a story about coming home. It's also a story about acceptin' folks for who they are. You could say it's a story about a librarian and a handyman, but I say it's a story about finding love where you'd least expect to. Ya know, those kinds of things always seem to happen when you open up your heart to possibilities. Of course, a little help from our hometown angels and yours truly don't hurt none either!

* * *

A man is not where he lives, but where he loves.

Latin Proverb

Chapter One

It was one of those days. Mid-May...spring on the cusp of summer. A rare day. One with the bluest of skies dotted with cotton ball clouds and the temperature perfect with a cooling breeze blowing up from the lake. No one could ask for a better day, but not a thing had gone right since Josephine Allen's feet had hit the hardwoods of the turn of the century Victorian that had been her childhood home in Angel Ridge.

Josie had lived on the ridge up until she'd gone away to college. She'd been away for nearly seven years; but now she was back. The town had chosen her as the "right person" to take over the directorship of Angel Ridge's most prized possession: The Angel Ridge Library. Expectations were naturally high for the town's golden child.

So far, she had not delivered.

It had begun with the pronouncement by her parents that they would be moving to a retirement community in Florida. The house, of course, would be hers now. Whether she wanted it or not? Not an option. And then there were the problems with the cataloging program that had been keeping her at the library every night to all hours.

So, she'd awakened this morning to no power, no alarm clock, no curling iron, and no hot water. After a late night at the office, was a hot shower too much to ask? She did the best she could with her appearance under the circumstances. No time to check the fuse box. She'd barely make it to open the front door of the library by eight. There were probably people already lined up on the steps anxious to hit the genealogy room. They always came early and stayed until closing.

Two hours later, things at the office weren't going any better than things at home.

"Dr. Allen? Cole Craig on line two for you. He says it's urgent.

Josie turned from her computer screen to look up at her secretary standing in her office doorway. "Thank you, Teresa."

Josie removed her wire-rimmed glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. The library's out-dated computer system had crashed twice already today, and it wasn't even lunchtime.

Cole Craig. Cole Craig. The name rang a bell, but her brain was so scrambled, she couldn't match a face to it. She punched the button below the blinking light on her phone, picked up the receiver and said, "This is Dr. Allen. How may I help you?"

"Is this Josie Allen?"

The deep voice laced with a smooth southern drawl flowed through the telephone line to caress her ear. Chill bumps raced up her arm. "
Um
...yes," she managed through a suddenly constricted throat.

"This is Cole Craig. I'm sorry to bother you at work, but there's a problem at your house."

She frowned. She knew that, but just how did this person also know? "A problem?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was cuttin' Miss Estelee's lawn this morning.

I had just cut it on Monday, but with all the rain we been having, I decided to cut it twice this week. So, when I stopped by her place today, like I always do on Thursdays, I decided to cut her grass again, and when I was around on the side of the yard closest to your house, I heard water runnin'."

Josie could have gotten lost in the verbal maze, but instead, a bell went off in her head. Cole Craig. Of course. How could she ever forget him? A couple of years older than her, they'd gone to middle school together, but he had to drop out of high school to help his ailing father keep their farm going. He'd never finished school, but he, like his father and grandfather before him, had not only supplied the town grocer with produce and the butcher with meat, but had also built houses for the poor and rich alike.

The Craigs were the founding family of Angel Ridge, much to the chagrin of the more prominent McKays and Wallaces. The Craigs had never been rich, but they'd worked quietly and with dignity in the community for generations. They were always the first to lend a helping hand around town.

"I hope you don't mind," he continued, "but I looked around a little and noticed water running down your sidewalk to the street, so I took a peek at your crawl space."

"Of course I don't mind. What did you find?"

"Well, it was just what I thought."

Josie waited. When he didn't supply any further information, she prompted, "What was that, Mr. Craig?"

"Oh, please. Call me Cole."

That odd warmth poured through her veins again. He had the most lyrically beautiful voice for an uneducated man. Cole. The name seemed incongruent with the voice. "What did you find?"

"A busted pipe."

"Oh, my." She involuntarily winced at the slang usage of the verb "to burst."

"I went down to the water meter and shut off the main. But there's no tellin' how long that thing had been spraying water.

You've probably got some wet floors in your house."

"Yes, I'm sure you're right."

"I'd be happy to fix it Jos-
um
...I mean, Dr. Allen."

He said the word "doctor" like it felt foreign on his tongue.

It was probably difficult for him to reconcile the young girl he remembered to Dr. Josephine Allen, Director of Library Science to The Angel Ridge Library. She wondered if he'd ever set foot in the library? Probably not.

"That's kind of you, Cole, but I'm sure you had other things planned for today. I'd hate to put you behind."

Josie hadn't been back in Angel Ridge long, but she'd noticed Cole Craig was in demand. Anyone in town who had something that needed fixing called Cole. She smiled. Her memories of him were of a big, beefy boy who'd always been kind to her despite the teasing she'd received in school for her bookwormish ways.

"Oh, it's no trouble, ma'am. That place of yours must be a handful since you don't have your folks around tendin' to things. It was a terrible loss for the town when they moved away. They were fine people.

He made it sound as if her parents had
passed
away, when what they'd really done was left her holding the bag in the form of a drafty old house that needed constant attention. "Yes, I don't really have the time or the knowledge needed to keep up such an old house."

She'd thought of taking a condo in Maryville, but her parents had nearly had heart attacks when she'd suggested it. So, she'd resigned herself to living here. It was her home, after all, and she did enjoy the short walk to work. How many towns remained in America where one could walk to work?