Mitchell searched his memory. “The calling-card murder count was at
twenty-four when I left the force six months ago.”
“The overall number will have climbed since then, but it’s the victims who
possess the sight that I’m most concerned about. Certainly, the others matter,
but their deaths—how can I put this?—provide nothing more than operating money
for Leshad. They keep the cash flow up and his filthy operation in the black.
Very comfortably in the black, I suspect.”
“Why are you most concerned about the victims who possess the sight?”
“Partly because I’m one of them, like my mother and her friend Twila Black.
Twila’s sister, Tallulah Black, possessed some vision as well, but not a
sufficient amount for Leshad to use.”
Was this intriguing him or annoying him? Mitchell wasn’t sure. Maybe it
depended on what Phoebe expected him to do. “Where does your fading appeal enter
into this?” he asked, although he had a feeling he could guess the answer to
She maintained her benign expression. “I’m Madeleine’s daughter,
cher. I possess certain modest sensory abilities. Leshad assumes I
inherited my mother’s full gift of second sight. I didn’t, but it’s what he
“So you can’t spin straw into gold or turn him into a gargoyle.” Mitchell
lifted his beer and a shrewd brow. “But he believes you can, and that’s what
“Exactly.” She gave a casual shrug. “You might think I’m lying when I tell
you I don’t mind that he believes those things about me. With Twila’s great
granddaughter out of the picture, Leshad’s psychic-link list is dwindling. There
may be others on it who can do what he wants done, but none so directly
connected to the person who performed the original deed as me.” She brought her
steady gaze to his face. “Me and the daughter I gave away.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “You’re worried that Leshad will bypass you
and go for your daughter.”
“Yes, I am. Very worried.” Again, those amazing gray eyes locked on his.
“There was a time, Mitchell, when Leshad’s answer to any and all problems was to
kill it, then rinse the blood from his hands and move on. But it must have
finally dawned on him that voodoo doesn’t work that way. Not long ago, he wanted
all of us dead. Now, he doesn’t. But he does still want me. I hope.”
“Yeah. Did I mention I’m getting a headache?”
A hint of impatience roughened her subdued voice. “You need to understand
something of Leshad’s mindset. He’s powerful, and he’s frightened. That’s not a
good combination. He has innumerable sources, and my feeling is that one of
those sources has lately suggested that I might not possess the kind of power he
“But you do, or you did, possess a daughter.”
Her chin came up in a defiant gesture. “Maybe you think only an unfeeling
monster could give up her child the way I did, but I knew early on what she had
inside her. What she still has. What I’m afraid Leshad now knows she has.”
“How could Leshad know what abilities a child I assume you gave away several
years ago might or might not possess?”
“Because I have reason to believe he’s—well, I’ll use the word acquainted,
though I’m sure it’s a great deal more than that by now—with my daughter’s
biological father. His name is Caleb Josiah Best. You’d know him as CJ Best.
State Senator CJ Best.”
The woman got around, he’d give her that. Mitchell drank more beer. A box of
matches in a munitions dump had nothing on this situation. A smart man wouldn’t
go near it, to say nothing of a jaded ex-cop.
She offered him a faint smile. “I can see the wheels turning, Mitchell, and
God knows, facts are facts. You’re a loose cannon. A wild child, like I was, and
currently an unpredictable adult. But you have a conscience. At least the child
you were back when I knew him had one. You’re a good person, and I have a
daughter in danger.”
Mitchell regarded her half-lidded, still not entirely convinced. “What does
Leshad want with any of you? Psychically.”
Curses, ghosts, a serial killer, and little voodoo.
Gaby Jordan has always been able to see and talk to ghosts. While creepy at
times, this extraordinary ability has never put her in danger. But since her
voodoo-queen grandmother placed a curse on a serial killer, Gaby's in all kinds
of trouble. The killer wants the curse removed, and he believes Gaby can do it.
Former cop Mitchell Stone might be reluctant to help Gaby at first, but once he
meets the fiery beauty, he vows to do everything he can to keep her safe from
the madman who is determined to capture her.
Danger abounds in the Louisiana bayou. The attraction between Mitchell and Gaby
is fast and intense. But there are ghosts, voodoo spells, and murder at work
here. The race to escape the deadly madman is on. And the curse is only the
beginning of the shadowy magic.
Warning: Curses, killers, and crocodiles are just some of the things that
can get you in this bayou.
Jenna Ryan was born in Victoria, British Columbia. After long stints in
different cities across Canada, she returned home to Vancouver Island where she
has lived ever since. She has had thirty-one books published in the Harlequin
Intrigue series. Her ideas come from real life, and she is helped in her writing
by her sister Kathy.
She enjoys reading and is a big fan of women's fiction, psychological suspense
and mystery novels. She also enjoys watching classic suspense movies. She loves
strong heroines, heroes with character, romance stories and a good whodunit by
the fire on a rainy night.
Her heritage is a blend of English and Irish — which is probably where the gift
of blarney comes from. She is unmarried, but involved with a wonderful man. She
also has a little white cat named Sheena.
Whenever she is not writing, she travels as much as time and finances will
allow. After North America, Europe is her favorite continent to explore, because
it was in those countries that many of the myths and legends she drew upon in
her early years of writing were born.
Growing up, she considered various careers and dabbled in several of them,
including, after university, the travel industry, tourism, sales and modeling.
Work in the fashion industry in Toronto and Montreal gave her an interesting
peek into various aspects of that world. She learned that where money, power and
people come together, there will always be unpredictability — an element she
feels is essential to a strong mystery. Add a healthy measure of personal
conflict, an intriguing setting and a spicy romance into the mix, and you have
the ingredients for what she believes to be the best of all possible stories — a
great romantic suspense.