New Orleans, 1902
A killer walks the streets of New Orleans, eviscerating men and leaving them in the streets, and for madam Trula Boudreaux, it’s bad for business. Trula needs help but she’s not prepared for Zeke Barnes, the charming would-be savior who darkens her doorway—or the yearning he awakens. For while Trula knows well the delights of lust, she avoids love at all costs…
Investigating the killer was one thing, but Zeke can’t help but be enchanted by the gorgeous mystery woman who runs an exclusive brothel. Caught between his duty to protect the city and his clear-as-day desire for Trula, Zeke sets about capturing Trula’s heart—or at least a place in her bed. But with every moment Trula resists, Zeke falls into greater danger.
For his investigation into the haunted city and madam doesn’t just risk his heart but both their lives.
Author Bio: Julie Mulhern always wanted to be a writer. She spent her childhood creating pen names and dreaming of exotic, mysterious, romantic places. To that end, she went to Washington and Lee University in Lexington, Virginia (because, when you’re from the Midwest, the South is both exotic and romantic). There she earned degrees in politics and French. She even spent a year living in Paris. But the Midwest beckoned and she returned home. Now she lives with her husband, two daughters and a dastardly dog. It might not be exotic or mysterious but it is romantic.
Zeke walked through the door, soaked to the skin, and she handed him a dry towel. “You’ll catch your death.”
His brows rose as his gaze moved from her destroyed hat to her wet dress. With a flick of his sooty lashes his midnight gaze shifted and took in Granny’s one-room cabin. The wobbly table, the bed covered with a colorful quilt, the rocking chair next to the fireplace, and the vivid altar. Then his gaze returned to her. She was all too aware of her sopping dress and lank hair.
His stare trapped her, a lamb cornered by a hungry wolf.
Her heart stuttered then beat far too hard and fast. She wrapped her arms across her chest. A useless protection. “Granny’s not here,” she said. Not that an old woman would offer any additional protection against the man who stared at her with such heat.
His lips quirked as if he could read her mind, as if he knew she was trying to escape her fate. “I hope she won’t blame us for squatting. We can’t drive back to the city in this storm.” A clap of thunder shook the small cabin, emphasizing his point.
She had to spend the night in Granny’s cabin with Zeke?
The quilt-clad bed drew her gaze. She stole a glance at Zeke.
He wore a grin. Damn him.