Dylan Brodie and his eight year old daughter Emily live in
the
lodge he recently purchased in the separate family wing.
Big and sprawling and two stories high, Dylan plans to
restore the Alaskan hunting lodge to its original state and
invite paying guests to enjoy the hunting and beautiful
sights of Alaska. Emily's mother left them, hating Alaska,
and eventually was killed in an accident. Emily has not
spoken a word since her mother's desertion. Dylan can't
imagine living anywhere except the beautiful state where he
was raised along with his brothers, Nick and Rafe. Old
legends have it that the lodge has been haunted by ghosts
since a mother and child were murdered years ago. Two
natives were blamed and hanged in error for the murders,
leaving the future natives vowing to clear their ancestors'
names.
Lane Bishop has accepted Dylan's offer to help remodel
the old fishing lodge. As owner of Modern Design in
Beverly Hills, Lane is anxious to spend time in Alaska and
foremost with the gorgeous dark haired man that she was
completely taken with when they first met. Both of them
have visions of extracurricular activities while she
visits. Accompanying Lane is her 90 pound Irish wolfhound,
Finnegan, and the love of her life. When visions of a
ghost and misplaced items happen, the legend is impossible
to ignore. To complicate matters, a young woman is
murdered and Dylan's sidekick, Caleb Wolfe, is being
blamed. Finally giving into their hot sexual desires, this
only complicates things as Lane herself becomes the object
of a stalker and murderer. Traipsing through the
mountains, surviving an emergency plane landing, and
protecting which is his, keeps Dylan on his toes while also
dreading the day Lane has to go home.
If it's suspense, hot sex, plenty of excitement, and
the most gorgeous country alive that you want, this is the
book for you. I have read many of Kat Martin's stories and
she always delivers. I have not been disappointed in this
book nor any other that I have read by her. The chilling
tale of protecting the ones you love from a deranged
person, always makes for a most interesting read! Kat
Martin
certainly knows how to weave a tale to keep the reader's
total interest.
Alaska - Where the men are as bold and untamed as
America's last wilderness
It's been three years since Lane Bishop tragically lost
her fiancé, and she's finally ready to risk her heart on
someone else. The hot look in Dylan Brodie's eyes says he's
going to be that man.
But when Lane flies to the remote 1930's fishing lodge to
help him renovate, she discovers a little girl who won't
speak, eerie legends and strange sounds in the night. And
when she investigates the history of the lodge, she uncovers
a legacy of injustice and murder.
As danger stalks his daughter and the woman he is coming
to love, Dylan must risk everything to uncover the shocking
truth.
Excerpt
The low moaning of the wind awakened him. The old fishing
lodge, constructed in the thirties, was built of hand-hewn
logs, the chinking between them worn by time and weather,
leaving spaces for the air to blow through. An eerie
keening echoed inside the house, a chilling sound that sent
shivers down Dylan’s spine.
Just the wind, he reminded himself. Nothing to do with
stories of ghosts and hauntings. Just an inconvenience,
nothing more.
Still, he had Emily to think of. Dylan Brodie swung his
long legs to the side of the bed, shrugged into his heavy
flannel robe, and padded barefoot down the hall toward his
daughter’s bedroom.
Dylan had fallen in love with the place the moment he had
seen it, perched on Eagle Bay like a guardian of the two
hundred forested acres around it.
Old legends be damned. He didn’t believe in ghosts or any
of the Indian myths he had heard. He’d waited years to find
the perfect spot for his guided fishing and family vacation
business, and this was the place.
The wind picked up as he moved down the hall, the air
sliding over rough wood, whistling through the eves, the
branches on the trees shifting eerily against the window
panes. Dylan picked up his pace, worried the noise would
frighten Emily, though so far his eight-year-old daughter
seemed more at ease in the lodge than he was.
Frosted glass wall sconces dimly lit the passage as he
walked along, original, not part of a remodel of the
residential wing done a few years back, before the last
owner moved out and left the area.
The four bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs on this side of the
building weren’t fancy but they were livable while he worked
on the rest of the lodge. The master suite had been
updated, but it wasn’t the way he wanted it yet.
Eventually, he would rebuild this section, as well, bring it
all up to the four-star standard he’d had in mind when he
had purchased the property.
Dylan paused at the door to Emily’s room, quietly turned the
knob and eased it open. His daughter lay beneath the quilt
that his housekeeper, Winifred Henry, had made for her as a
Christmas gift, princesses and unicorns embroidered in puffy
little pink and white squares, all hand-stitched to fit her
youth-size four-poster bed.
His gaze went to the child. Emily had the same dark hair
and blue eyes that marked her a Brodie, but her complexion
was as pale as her mother’s. Unlike Mariah’s perfect
patrician features, Emily’s mouth was a little too wide, her
small nose freckled across the bridge.
She was awake, he saw, her eyes fixed on the antique rocker
near the window. It was just her size, fashioned of oak and
intricately carved. She loved the old chair that had been
in the lodge when he bought it.
Emily never sat in it, but she was fascinated by the way the
wind made it rock on its own. Dylan found it slightly
eerie, the way it moved back and forth as if some invisible
occupant sat in the little chair. She was watching it now,
her lips curved in the faintest of smiles. She mumbled
something he couldn’t quite hear and Dylan’s chest clamped
down.
It hurt to watch his little girl, see her in the make-
believe world she now lived in, forming silent phrases,
nothing he could actually hear.
Emily hadn’t spoken a single audible phrase since her mother
had abandoned her three years ago. Not a meaningful word
since the night Mariah Brodie had run off with another man.
Dylan’s hand unconsciously fisted. Maybe he hadn’t been the
husband Mariah wanted. Maybe he’d been too wrapped up in
trying to make a life in the harsh Alaskan wilderness he
loved. Maybe he hadn’t paid her enough attention.
Maybe he just hadn’t loved her enough.
Guilt slipped through him. He never should have married
her. He should have known she would never be able to adjust
to the life he lived here. Still, it didn’t excuse her
cruel abandonment of their daughter. An abandonment Emily
had not been able to cope with.
Dylan forced himself to walk into the bedroom. Emily’s eyes
swung to his, but she didn’t smile, just stared at him in
that penetrating way that made his stomach churn.
“Em, honey, are you okay?” She didn’t answer, as he knew
she wouldn’t. “It’s just the wind. The lodge is old.
There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Emily’s gaze went to the window, where a lone pine branch
shifted restlessly against the sill. Ignoring him as if he
weren’t there, she snuggled back into her pillow and closed
her eyes. She blamed him for the loss of her mother, he
knew. It was the only explanation for why she had withdrawn
from him so completely.
Tucking the quilt a little closer beneath her chin, he
leaned down and kissed her cheek. The wind picked up as he
walked out of the bedroom and eased the door closed. Emily
was his to watch over and protect, his to care for and
comfort. But he had lost his daughter three years ago.
When he had driven her mother away.
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