âIâm a private investigator, pal. People pay me for information.â
He reached in his hip pocket and produced a leather wallet. Taking some bills from inside, he laid them on the desk and stared at me with a questioning lift of his brows.
âYou donât have enough money. Get out of here.â
He reached into his wallet once more. This time he handed me a small white business card.
âYouâre Brandon Kirkpatrick?â
âYou werenât what I expected, either,â he admitted. âI assumed D.B. Hayes was a man. What does the D.B. stand for anyhow?â
âDangerous when bothered.â I was still angry.
He grinned. The man was gorgeous even when he was angry, but when he smiled he was downright lethal.
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
It might be warm outside, but our June lineup will thrill and chill you!
* This month, we have a couple of great miniseries. Man of Her Dreams is the spine-tingling conclusion to Debra Webbâs trilogy THE ENFORCERS. And there are just two installments left in B.J. Danielsâs McCALLSâ MONTANA seriesâHigh-Caliber Cowboy is out now, and Shotgun Surrender will be available next month.
* We also have two fantastic special promotions. First, is our Gothic ECLIPSE title, Mystique, by Charlotte Douglas. And Dani Sinclair brings you D.B. Hayes, Detective, the second installment in our LIPSTICK LTD. promotion featuring sexy sleuths.
* Last, but definitely not least, is Jessica Andersenâs The Sheriffâs Daughter. Sparks fly between a medical investigator and a vet in this exciting medical thriller.
* Also, keep your eyes peeled for Joanna Wayneâs THE GENTLEMANâS CLUB, available from Signature Spotlight.
This month, and every month, we promise to deliver six of the best romantic suspense titles around. Donât miss a single one!
Sincerely,
Denise OâSullivan
Senior Editor
Harlequin Intrigue
For all the caring volunteers who work with strays
and abandoned and abused animals every day. You understand that the world is a richer place when we open our hearts and our lives to these intelligent beings covered in fur. And to Roger, Chip, Dan and Barb, as always.
An avid reader, Dani Sinclair didnât discover romance novels until her mother lent her one when sheâd come for a visit. Daniâs been hooked on the genre ever since. But she didnât take up writing seriously until her two sons were grown. With the premiere of Mystery Baby for Harlequin Intrigue in 1996, Daniâs kept her computer busy ever since. Her third novel, Better Watch Out, was a RITA>® Award finalist in 1998. Dani lives outside Washington, D.C., a place sheâs found to be a great source for both intrigue and humor!
D.B. HayesâAt age twenty-four, Diana Barbara âDeeâ Hayes has a lot to prove as a woman and as a private investigator. She hopes not to get killed in the processâ¦.
Brandon KirkpatrickâThe former-cop-turned-investigator has a knack for getting into Deeâs businessâ¦and under her skin.
Hogan DelvecchiâHe looks like a boulder and is known to do all Albert Russoâs dirty work. How dirty is he willing to get?
Lacy Dunning and Trudy HoffsteaderâDeeâs aunt and her business partner have owned and operated Flower World ever since Dee can remember. Luckily theyâre willing to share their space with Deeâs detective agency.
Brenda KeeneâDeeâs fatherâs next-door neighbor insists that Dee find her mysterious stalker.
MickeyâThe desperate ten-year-old comes in to hire D.B. Hayesâto find Mr. Sam, a geriatric catâ¦.
Mr. SamâThe cat eludes D. B., but his look-alikes are taking over her apartment!
Albert RussoâThe business entrepreneur and possible mobster is willing to give Dee her first big case, but does he have ulterior motives?
Elaine RussoâIs she simply tired of being a trophy wife, or is she playing a far more deadly game?
Nicole WickleyâThe actress bears a striking resemblance to Elaine Russoâso striking thereâs some question as to whether theyâre really the same person.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Okay, so maybe my father was right. Being a private investigator can be a little dangerous.
I stared up at the mountain of flesh in front of meâsix feet four, three hundred seventy pounds of masculine flab, and all of it quivering in a drunken rage. Another time I might have been fascinated by that rippling effect, but at the moment I was mesmerized by the enormous knife he was waving in one meaty hand. The only thing standing between the two of us was a rusting old porch swing, and that was one wicked-looking knife.
Lyle Arrensky was his name, and he wasnât dressed unless you count a pair of grungy boxer shorts withâso help me Godâblue and green rabbits against an angry orange background. I did not want to count those shorts. Heck, I didnât even want to think about those shorts.