The Violet Society Book 1

Coming March 2008
New Concepts Publishing
ISBN: 973-1-60394-138-9
Genre: Contemporary

Order at New Concepts Publishing

Five years ago, Bluebonnet Creek in the Texas Hill Country seemed like the ideal small town for Cassie Taylor to set down roots. A victim of big city crime, she started life fresh with an antique business and the comfort of the locals as friends. But even in this blissful setting, Cassie’s life is far from perfect.

Business at her store is slow, she’s plagued by increasingly frequent migraines, and now Porter Davis, the handsome furniture builder who has just moved into town, is providing direct competition from his new shop across the street. His endless and creative marketing schemes are driving her to distraction—and possibly out of business.

Then the small town simplicity and charm is shattered when the local tearoom owner is murdered. It doesn’t take long before the town turns a suspicious eye on its newest resident, Porter, who has recently been paroled after serving time for manslaughter.

Cassie, however, is not so ready to convict him and decides to do a little investigating of her own. She is soon joined by The Violet Society -five interfering matrons cum detectives—who not only institute a neighborhood watch designed to catch a killer but also provide lots of comic relief in the process.

 

AWARDS

The First Kiss Contest, New England RWA
Hot Prospects Contest, Valley of the Sun RWA

 

 

Somehow, she found herself standing along the river looking upward toward a certain cabin. She cocked her head and listened as she heard the sound of an electric saw cutting through the golden afternoon. Following the noise, she made her way up the slope and toward the driveway, walking around the cabin to the garage. The doors stood wide open, and inside, she could make out Porter’s form as he leaned over a work table.

She hesitated for a minute, struck into shock by the sight of him. He wore jeans and well-worn workboots. And nothing else. When he noticed her and smiled, it seemed he was genuinely glad to see her, and her heart started that strange pounding in her chest. When she swallowed, her throat was dry.

“Hey, there.”

“Hey,” she responded weakly. She forced her legs to move forward and stood close enough to see that his tanned torso was covered with sweat and a light dusting of saw dust. His tattoo looked larger than life on his bulging bicep. She’d missed him over the past week, she realized. “What are you doing?”

It was a dumb question, but he kindly pretended not to notice. “I’m building furniture. What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing. I just dropped by to say hello and thanks for the flowers. I haven’t seen you all week. Building anything special at the moment?”

He turned back to the wood structure that had yet to resemble anything more than a pile of cut pieces. “You could say that. It’s got a ways to go yet.”

She tried to find something else to look at other than his gorgeous body, but he seemed to eclipse all else in the woodworking shop. “So did you get that tattoo in prison?”

He continued to work, leaning and stretching over the table as he sanded. Cassie’s mouth still felt as dry as sandpaper.

“No. I got it in the Rangers.”

“Oh. Did you see much action?”

“Yeah. You here for a reason, Cassie? Or just to chat about my tattoo?”

She spotted a stool off to one side and sat down. “I heard something last week that I never had a chance to ask you about.”

“More dirt on me? Christ, these people don’t have enough to do.”

“It’s suspicious, Porter. And they’re scared. I’m scared. We just want answers.”

“I’d kinda hoped you and I were past that, Cassie, but fire away.”

“Tina Mackey said she heard you and Mr. Sanders having an argument the day before he died.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Porter. That’s a little incriminating, don’t you think?”

He stopped sanding a moment to stroke the wood with his hand. Cassie met his eyes over the table, trying not to think about his fingers stroking her.

“People have arguments every day. It doesn’t always lead to murder.”

“So what did you argue about?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Porter Davis, you’re not making this easy for me.”

He lifted a brow at her. “What, exactly, am I supposed to be making easy?”

Sometimes her big mouth could put her in the most awkward positions. “I want to believe in you. I am defending you all over town.”

“I don’t need your help, Cassie.”

“Don’t be so sure. These people are ready to string you up. Look at what Sam Bradbury did. That’s just the beginning.”

“What about you? You want to believe in me? Why?” He finally stopped working and just stared at her, his hands on slim hips, his well-defined pectoral muscles on full display. “Your boyfriend is dead set against me. Your friend Val is tossing up red flags all over the place when it comes to me. Everyone is telling you every bad thing they hear, think or dream about me. So why do you have this need to believe in me?”

“Are you having an affair with Carla Baker?”

Only a slight widening in his eyes gave him away. That and the clenching of his jaw. He stared at her for a moment and the words hung between them like a solid two-by-four that kept them separated across the space of the room. Dust floated in the air, giving the workshop an ethereal look.

Finally he moved. His gaze still fixed on her face, he stepped around the table and walked over to her. The stool was high enough to place her at the level of his steely gaze. Her heart pounded unmercifully.

“I need to ask you to do me a favor, Cassie.” His voice was low, yet steady. When his hand came out and touched her thigh, she thought she would melt. He moved closer, nudging her legs apart, until he stood between her legs. She gripped the stool, hardly daring to breathe. One of his hands came up to touch her cheek even as he leaned toward her mouth.

“I need you to trust me, Cassie,” he breathed against her lips. “Can you do that?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I have to think about it.”

“While you’re doing that, give this a little thought, too.” His mouth came down on hers, his tongue tracing her lips until they parted and his could sweep inside. She arched into him and his arms slid around her, hugging her body close. Then his fingers were in her hair, molding her scalp as he held her to him and devoured her. Suddenly, when she was giving herself over completely, the kiss ended and he stepped away, his gaze still locked with hers.

“Yes,” she managed to say. “I’ll think about it.”