Luckadeau Cousins #2
Sourcebooks Casablanca
November 2009
On Sale: November 1, 2009
Featuring: "Lucky Slade" Luckadeau; Jane Day
352 pages ISBN: 1402224370 EAN: 9781402224379 Kindle: B003PJ79Z2 Mass Market Paperback / e-Book Add to Wish List
EXCERPT FROM ONE LUCKY COWBOY Slade tried to intimidate the petite dishwater blonde with a glare meant to drop her stone cold dead on the spot. Even if it didn’t work she’d know exactly how he felt about the situation and that he wasn’t buying into her act. The fair haired con artist with pecan colored brown eyes would be gone in twenty four hours and that wasn’t a threat; it was a solid promise. He might have just lost the first battle of the war with his grandmother but he’d be damned if he lost the whole war. Jane didn’t blink when she and the tall blonde cowboy locked eyes. She needed a place to hide for six weeks and this was perfect. If he thought he could run her off he had cow chips for brains. The opportunity had dropped in her lap at the bus station like an answered prayer from heaven. She could endure his cold accusations and he could damn sure live with the situation for a few weeks. She’d stay out of his way as much as possible. She’d just seen how the evil male brain worked and it was scary. Nellie Luckadeau, Slade’s grandmother, could have danced a jig in a pig trough half full of fermented slop. Never had she seen Slade so angry. He was the cold, calm, collected and slow moving cowboy who never had a temper fit. She’d begun to think he’d never feel anything again and suddenly he was ready to chew up rail road spikes all because she’d brought home a stray, homeless girl. Well, praise the lord and pass the biscuits, her prayers had been answered. Slade shifted his big blue eyes to his grandmother. “I can’t believe you drove to Wichita Falls. I told you I’d be here as soon as I could.” “Ellen wanted to be home this afternoon and she’d have missed her bus. Damned near did anyway what with the wreck and all. Don’t get your under britches in a wad. I drove. I backed out into a car. I’ve got damned good insurance that’ll pay for the damages and if I didn’t, I expect I could handle the amount. I was lucky to be sittin’ there when Jane got off the bus. Now I’ve got a driver and you can get on back to your ranchin’ and quit your bellyachin’ about me hiring her. She told me on the way from Wichita Falls that this was her lucky break. Well, I reckon it’s mine, too. And if you’ll admit it, it’s your lucky break because damn it all, Slade Luckadeau, you don’t have to worry about drivin’ me anywhere long as she’s here.” “She’s not a driver, she’s a con artist. I bet Jane Day isn’t even her name. It’s so close to Jane Doe that she probably picked it from the air when you asked her. It doesn’t even show any imagination. She’s here to swindle you, Granny. Wait and see. She’ll end up with everything you own before she leaves.” He stormed out of the house. His boots sounded like bolts of thunder and his spurs jingled like a wind chime as he stomped across the wooden porch. “Don’t worry about him, Jane. He’s just got a burr in his britches. He’ll get over it. Let me show you to your room. But before I do, look me in the eye and tell me you aren’t a con artist,” Nellie said. Jane took a step forward, looked up and met the tall older woman’s eyes. “I am not a con artist. I’m not here to rob you of anything. I just need a place to stay for a few weeks. I’m grateful for the job and I’ll work like a mule.” “That’s all I need to know,” Nellie said. “Follow me.” SECOND EXCERPT FROM ONE LUCKY COWBOY A burly guard in a three pieced suit stood beside the door outfitted with a red velvet rope complete with a golden clasp on the end. “I’ll need ID please,” he said. “From us?” Nellie asked. “That’s right sweetheart. No one under fifty five goes through the velvet tonight and you ladies sure don’t look fifty to me,” he said. “But …” Jane started to argue. “Sorry darlin’, I can see that you ain’t no where near that age and you ain’t either, sir. So you can come back at midnight and pick up the two Cinderellas or you can wait in your pick up truck. Doesn’t make me no never mind but you ain’t goin’ through the gate. This is for seniors only. Tomorrow night you can all four come back. We don’t have an age limit then. If you’re twenty one you can dance and drink. I have my doubts about you young lady, so you better bring a license or ID.” Nellie’s grin was a bit too big and fake when she turned to face Jane and Slade. “Sorry. See you at midnight. Go have some dinner and see a late movie. Ain’t no need for you to sit in the parking lot all evening. You’ll kill each other.” Ellen pushed her sister on inside and left Slade and Jane standing speechless. “Listen to that music. Is that Elvis? God, I’m going to love this place. I may come to Ringgold every week on Thursday.” “What just happened?” Jane asked. “I think we just got rinky-doed by two old ladies.” Kristy appeared from the shadows of an older model black Lincoln Continental. “What in the hell are you doing here with her?” “I might ask you the same. What are you doing here with him?” Slade shot right back. He was already stunned and anger was setting in quickly. He didn’t need Kristy to start on him, too. “He is my uncle who wanted to come to senior night. I drove him and will come back and get him. But it’s pretty damned evident you thought this was a night you two could come dancing. I thought we were an item.” Kristy had her hair slicked back in a pony tail, wasn’t wearing a bit of make up and her tee shirt with Betty Boop on the front had seen better days. She wore rubber flip flops and tight cut off jean shorts. And her voice was so high and shrill it would hurt a deaf man’s ears. She took two steps forward stopping only when she could see the whites of Jane’s eyes. “Well, since he’s evidently tongue tied, what have you got to say for yourself? I told you Sunday he was my territory and to stay away from him. Remember I promised that the next time wouldn’t be with words. It appears that a low down white trash bitch like you don’t have much sense.” Jane had heard of honky tonk parking lot cat fights. If she’d been told on the eve of her wedding that she’d be standing in the middle of one in two weeks, she would have had the person doing the talking committed. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond but no one was calling her white trash. She stepped into Kristy’s invisible wall of space, doubled up her fist and connected solidly with the woman’s chin in an upward cut. When the tall oak of a woman started to fall to her knees Jane caught her again in the stomach. She bent over clutching her gut and screaming that she was going to kill Jane. “I told you Sunday I wasn’t moving in on your territory and this fight isn’t for Slade. It’s to teach you to never call me white trash. Either get up and quit threatening me or go home. I don’t give a damn which one you do.” Kristy slowly got up and shook her fist toward Jane but she didn’t get close enough to take or give any more punches. “I’ll file assault charges on you.” “Bring it on. I keep enough cash in my purse to pay the fine for assault at all times. It’s insurance against anyone who calls me names or thinks they can intimidate me.”