“That line is so damn corny it’s funny. Besides, darlin’, we didn’t sleep,” she had said before she’d pulled the covers over her face and gone back to sleep.
Julie had been rudely awakened by her sister pounding on the door at fifteen minutes until eleven, rushing her around so they could make the checkout time.
The next week Derrick called. Honey dripped from his words. He missed her. He was sorry. They shouldn’t throw away a six-year marriage because of his mistake. He was willing to take full blame and it would never happen again. Please give him another chance. A dose of guilty syndrome had caused her to set aside the divorce. To celebrate, Derrick took a week off work and they’d flown to Cancun.
“There’s a sucker born every second,” Julie said aloud as she kept packing Edna’s clothes.
Her thoughts went back to six weeks after she and Derrick went to Cancun. She had found out she was pregnant and although he was reserved about the news she was ecstatic. The day Julie gave birth to Annie he took one look at his daughter and ordered a DNA test.
“I’m willing to wait for the proof, Julie, and if the child is mine I will admit I’m wrong, but she’s not. I see now why you were so agreeable to take me back. I won’t be home until the DNA test results come back. That will give you time to move out. I’ll be filing for divorce on grounds of adultery as soon as I know for sure.”
Julie had nodded numbly. One look at the baby they pulled from her and she knew immediately who the father was: G. Luckadeau. She’d even bet dollars to donuts that had his head not been shaven slick as a baby’s butt, he would have had a white streak in his dark hair. Her new baby daughter had one in the front of all that beautiful black hair, along with a dimple in her chin and big round eyes that Julie had no doubt would be crystal clear blue in a few weeks.
DNA was just a formality. The baby did not belong to Derrick Wayne Williams, III. When Julie filled out the birth certificate, she left the father’s space blank and named her daughter Annie Grace Donavan, because one thing Julie would insist on was her maiden name back. Annie was not a Williams and Julie wanted nothing from Derrick, not his property or his name.
She never did blame Derrick. Maybe he was trying to make the marriage work and felt betrayed. Julie certainly had felt that way when she discovered the affair with his engineer. She took her baby home from the hospital, moved into the garage apartment her parents rented out for extra cash, and paid her mother to keep Annie while she taught school.
Five years later her Aunt Flossie died and left Julie her entire estate. It wasn’t millions, but it was enough to buy the Lassiter property. She folded the pink dress and packed it into the garbage sack, hoping the memories would stay in the sack and not haunt her anymore. Evidently Lucky had left a pregnant wife behind when he went to Iraq, because Lizzy and Annie were born only two days apart. They were almost the same height, the same size, and could easily pass for twins.
Julie felt sorry for his wife. She’d been the wife; she didn’t ever want to be the other woman. That must be why he pretended not to remember her that day. He sure didn’t want to go home and explain that he’d just run into a drunken one-night stand and the little girl that it had produced.
“Momma, can I bring the kittens inside?” Annie whispered.
Julie jumped. “You scared me,” she said.
“It’s hot out there and there’s a spider on the back porch and I know the kittens are afraid of it. Can I bring them in the house?”
She nodded. “We’ll have to make a litter pan in case they need to go when they are visiting you in the house. I’ll find an old pan and put some gravel from the driveway in it. You go bring them into your room and I’ll turn on the air conditioner in there. And I’ll take care of that spider on my way to the driveway.”
“You are the best momma in the whole world,” Annie beamed. “But you know what? I wish Lizzy was my sister, then I’d have a real person to play with instead of the kittens, and we could play with them together. I bet she’d like yellow kittens, Momma, I just know it.”
“I’ve been thinking some about that little girl, Annie. Some folks say that everybody has a double. Do you know what that means?”
Annie shook her head.
“It means somewhere in the world there is a little girl who looks so much like you that it was like you were looking in the mirror if you looked at her. I think Lizzy is your double.”
Annie hung her head. “Can she be my sister if I wish real, real hard?”
“I don’t think so. Now you go get your baby kittens and I’ll get them a potty box.”
“And some milk in a bowl for snack time?” Annie pushed.
Julie smiled. “Yes, but just a tiny bit. Their momma is still feeding them and her milk is better than the kind we buy in a jug. It’s special just for them.”
A while later Julie hauled the garbage bag out to the storage shed and brought in a box marked “Julie’s Stuff” on the side. She organized as she unpacked. Shirts. Slacks. Jeans. Dress clothes. Looking at her closet she felt peace. She’d made the right decision when she bought the place. She was home.
Griffin Luckadeau could just stay out of her way and she’d do her best to grant him the same favor.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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Hi! I’m twenty five years old and movie star gorgeous. The camera added thirty plus years and a few wrinkles. Can’t trust those cameras or mirrors either. Along with bathroom scales they are notorious liars! Honestly, I am the mother of three fantastic grown children who’ve made me laugh and given me more story ideas than I could ever write. My husband, Charles, is my strongest supporter and my best friend. He’s even willing to eat fast food and help with the laundry while I finish one more chapter! Life is good and I am blessed!
Reading has been a passion since I was five years old and figured out those were words on book pages . As soon as my chubby little fingers found they could put words on a Big Chief tablet with a fat pencil, I was on my way. Writing joined reading in my list of passions. I will read anything from the back of the Cheerio’s box to Faulkner and love every bit of it. In addition to reading I enjoy cooking, my family and the ocean. I love the Florida beaches. Listening to the ocean waves puts my writing brain into high gear.
I love writing romance because it’s about emotions and relationships. Human nature hasn’t changed a bit since Eve coveted the fruit in the Garden of Eden. Settings change. Plots change. Names change. Times change. But love is love and men and women have been falling in and out of it forever. Romance is about emotions: love, hate, anger, laughter … all of it. If I can make you laugh until your sides ache or grab a tissue then I’ve touched your emotions and accomplished what every writer sets out to do.
I got serious about writing when my third child was born and had her days and nights mixed up. I had to stay up all night anyway and it was very quiet so I invested in a spiral back notebook and sharpened a few pencils. The story that emerged has never sold but it’s brought in enough rejection slips to put the Redwood Forest on the endangered list. In 1997 Kensington bought two books for their Precious Gems line. Two years and six books later the line died with only four of those books seeing publication. But by then Avalon had bought a book and another, and another. Ten years later the list has grown to thirty nine, three of which will be published in 2011 … the Angels & Outlaws historical trilogy.
In 2008 Sourcebooks bought my Lucky trilogy, LUCKY IN LOVE, ONE LUCKY COWBOY and GETTING LUCKY. And then my Honky Tonk Series which hit the ground running in June with I LOVE THIS BAR and barely had time to catch its breath when HELL, YEAH was published in August and the final two MY GIVE A DAMN’S BUSTED and HONKY TONK CHRISTMAS both came
out at the first of October. And I’m working on another series, Spikes & Spurs, for Sourcebooks with more cowboys and the fiesty women who brand them.
Folks ask me where I get my ideas. Three kids, fifteen grandchildren, two great grandchildren. Note: I was a very young grandmother! Life is a zoo around here when they all come home. In one Sunday afternoon there’s enough ideas to keep me writing for years and years. Seriously, ideas pop up at the craziest times. When one sinks its roots into my mind, I have no choice but to write the story. And while I’m writing the characters peek over my shoulder and make sure I’m telling it right and not exaggerating too much. Pesky little devils, they are!
I have a wonderful agent, Erin Niumata, who continues to work magic and sell my work. I’m very lucky to have her and my fabulous editors who continue to believe in me.
Happy reading!
Carolyn Brown
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Copyright
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Copyright © 2009 by Carolyn Brown
Cover and internal design © 2009 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover photos © Ben Klaus/istockphoto.com, © Sophielouise/ dreamstime.com
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems-except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews-without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
P.O. Box 4410,
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Printed in Canada
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