by Day Leclaire
"What are you doing with it?" He didn't answer. Instead, he waited for her to do or say something. Something significant. She grimaced in annoyance. So much for having a reporter's razor-sharp instincts and keen perception. Right now she'd settle for a pinch of womanly intuition and a lengthy, detailed explanation. "Care to give me a hint here? I'm flying blind, in case you haven't noticed."
He laughed and she stared at him, amazed by the difference it made, more amazed by the sudden warmth filling her. His stern, remote facade dissolved as though it had never been, replaced by humor and passion and a stunning vitality. She'd like to know him better—this man, a man of charm and grace and strength.
"You should laugh more, too," she told him, slightly dazed. "Lots more."
"What do you want, Ms. Avery?"
"I want an interview. No. What I really want is for you to leave my ancestor in peace," she told him passionately. "I want you to pick another poor ghost to debunk instead of Francisca."
"Why?" He shot the question at her, the sharpness of his tone demanding an honest response.
She gave him just that. "Because if you claim success or end up scaring off poor Francisca, it'll ruin my chances of selling the book I've written about her. And it's very important that my book sells."
"I'm sure it is."
"But—"
He cut her off, swiftly and implacably. "Ms. Avery, you asked for a quote?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. Take this down."
She hesitated, then removed the red plastic heart from her pen and waited, pen poised above the envelope. "I'm ready."
"Tough. That's spelled, T-O-U-G-H."
"Tough. Got it." She stared at the word for a moment, a small frown gathering between her brows. "That's it? Tough?"
"That's it. I'm going to investigate your ghost, Ms. Avery. Nothing you do or say will change my mind. If anything, having met you, I'm even more convinced it's a scam. Which makes me more determined than ever to prove it."
She quietly capped her pen and stuck it and the envelope into her purse, then stood. "Do your worst, Professor Kingston. The ghost of Francisca Arista is real. And I'll protect her from you no matter what it takes."
His crooked smile reappeared. "I'd expect no less."
"Goodbye, Professor. It's been an experience. A bad one." She started for the door. "And Professor?"
"Yes?"
"I hope you realize this is going to ruin our relationship." With that, she swept grandly through the door.
Once Upon a Ghost
The Wacky Women Series
Book One
by
Day Leclaire
~
To purchase
Once Upon a Ghost
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Day Leclaire's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/DayLeclaire
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Page forward and complete your journey
with an excerpt from
ONCE UPON A COWBOY
The Wacky Women Series
Book Two
Excerpt from
Once Upon a Cowboy
The Wacky Women Series
Book Two
by
Day Leclaire
USA Today Bestselling Author
All she'd ever wanted was to be a cowboy...
Holt watched Cami charge through the bushes and up over the ridge, shiny black curls bouncing against her back. He remembered sliding his hands through that hair and the feel of her curls beneath his hands. The softness had taken him by surprise, the little ringlets twisting around his fingers, clinging and twining so he'd been afraid he'd hurt her when he'd gathered sufficient wits to pull free.
He also remembered what her mouth had felt like beneath his. Soft. Soft and sweet and welcoming. And then there'd been the rest of her. The scent of her skin. The tiny groan of desire slipping from her mouth to his. Delicate curves pressed tight against him. Breasts as close to perfect as he'd ever laid hands on.
He'd almost stripped her down and taken her right there beneath the cottonwood. His own wrangler. Would she have resisted? Something told him she wouldn't have. Something told him, she'd have given herself to him with the same determination and generosity that had characterized her from the minute he'd first seen her.
Of course, if nature had taken its course, his neighbor, Frank, would have gotten quite an eyeful. Then he'd have had to shoot Frank. Frank probably wouldn't take well to having been shot and feel obligated to do something about it. Plus, Holt would have the small problem of the law frowning on ranchers shooting each other. Once upon a time he might have gotten away with it. But today people tended to frown on it.
He sighed.
"You've got trouble," Frank said.
Holt didn't bother denying it. "Big trouble."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
"Keeping my damned hands off Cami might be a good start. Not smart to make love to your wranglers."
"Sounds like a difficult proposition."
"A painful proposition." They both fell silent for a few minutes. In a resigned voice Holt asked, "I don't suppose you've heard of any decent wranglers looking for work."
"I put the word out. The few I heard were free I wouldn't have within a thousand miles of my spread. What about those other resumés you received? Isn't there anyone else you could hire?"
Holt shook his head. "Only one's still available and she's eighty-two. I'd have hired her on the spot, but she's just been released from the hospital following a bout of pneumonia and the doctor won't okay it."
"Which leaves Tex."
"Which leaves Tex and all that damned black hair," Holt agreed.
"And those big blue eyes."
"Not to mention the dimples."
"Or the freckles."
Steel crept into Holt's voice. "Mention those cute little freckles in that tone and I'm like as not to knock you on your arse."
"You've got trouble."
Holt yanked his hat low on his forehead. "Big trouble."
Once Upon a Cowboy
The Wacky Women Series
Book Two
by
Day Leclaire
~
To purchase
Once Upon a Cowboy
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Day Leclaire's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/DayLeclaire
~
Discover more with
eBookDiscovery.com
Wacky comes naturally to Day Leclaire. It always has.
At the age of five, she taught her kindergarten class how to lock the bathroom stalls and slide out underneath. Then she became the first kindergartner in the school's history to get suspended, after starting a glue war to the tune of one carpet, ten emergency haircuts, fifteen shirts, three pants, and two pairs of sneakers. Or was that three pairs of sneakers?
Anyway, 10 years later, Day conjured the bright idea of using her father's street motorcycle like a dirtbike and crashed it while attempting a spectacular jump over two logs, a lawn chair, her brother, and the family St. Bernard. Brutus survived. Her brother still has nightmares. The motorcycle was DOA. Day, (only slightly bent, spindled, and mutilated) spent most of that year grounded.
Then she earned her driver's license and wrecked the family car. More than once. Her parents were not amused. The insurance adjuster, however, was. Eventually, he started answering the phone, "So, what's she done now?"
Nowadays, when Day isn't wondering if her driving record was the impetus for the "Mayhem" commercials, she's loving her SPCA fosters dogs and playing The Sims 3 obsessively.
Day also writes with equal abandon, playing god with the fabulous characters and settings she creates—all within the confines of her computer world, of course. Or so she claims...
www.dayleclaire.com
Day Leclaire, Once Upon a Time (The Wacky Women Series, Book 3)