Luke

“Do you see a security problem?” April stepped out onto the porch, then moved to join Luke on the walk. She scanned the house’s wide, graceful facade.

“I doubt half your window locks would keep out a two-year-old,” he answered.

The glance she gave him was scathing. “You’re just saying that to scare me.”

“Think so? You want to go back inside and lock up, then see how long it takes me to get to you?”

“No, thank you!” April couldn’t prevent the gooseflesh that pebbled the surface of her skin.

“You’re afraid. Admit it.”

She shook her head but couldn’t quite manage a complete denial.

“I could stick around awhile, at least until you’re sure your caller isn’t going to pay a visit. You could forget I was on the place.”

Forget he was there? Not likely!

Jennifer Blake will “…thoroughly please.”

—Publishers Weekly

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Author Note

April Halstead gripped the phone so hard her knuckles ached. She stared at the book-lined walls of her office with her cane syrup brown eyes wide in disbelief. The words pouring into her ear were crude and vulgar. The radio control booth through which they were being funneled amplified the obscene threat they contained.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, not on a live talk radio interview via phone with hundreds of thousands of people listening in. It was like a public assault.

April’s heart beat with sickening jolts as she fought the urge to slam down the receiver. She couldn’t do it. She was the featured guest on this early morning radio show that reached most of south central Louisiana. She should say something, anything, to stop the tirade, but her mind was blank.

A sharp click sounded as the radio host in his studio miles away broke the caller’s connection. “I apologize for that incident, Ms. Halstead,” he said in well-rounded, professional tones. “It takes a determined caller to get past our screening, but some crank manages it now and then—one of the perils of a live show. I was taken by surprise, I’ll admit. That reaction is not what you’d expect during a show about love and romance with one of Louisiana’s best-known romance novelists. Certainly, it’s not the kind of thing a reader would look for in your books. Am I right about that?”

“Absolutely right,” April answered. For a split second, she allowed herself to wonder if the show host had let the caller rant those few extra moments just to create a lead for that question. The idea sent a spurt of annoyance through her that helped settle her jangled nerves. “I prefer to concentrate on the dynamics of the male-female relationship—the most important relationship that exists among human beings.”

The host wasn’t about to touch that claim. “Interesting,” he commented. Then he went on quickly, “So, just how do you go about constructing a romance novel? Where do you get your ideas?”

“They come from everywhere, newspaper clippings, magazine articles, sometimes just a comment overheard at the grocery store.” April reeled off the rest of the response she’d given a thousand times during more than nine years of interviews since her first book had hit the bestseller lists. Her usual feeling about such stock questions was resignation, but now she was happy to be able to supply an answer that didn’t require fast thinking. The talk session continued with the host’s semiembarrassed jocularity for the intimate nature of romance writing and reluctant admiration for someone who had managed to sell several million books. There were, thankfully, no more surprises.

Minutes later, April said her routine thanks for the radio host’s interest and hung up the phone. She clasped her hands tightly together on her desktop to still their shaking. Squeezing her eyes shut, she breathed deep in an effort at composure. The interview was a jumble in her mind other than the first one or two questions. She had no idea whether it had gone well or been a complete flop.

The pressure inside her brain made her feel sick. The urge to jump up and pace while cursing and screaming was so strong she barely subdued it. What held her back was the fear that once she started, she might not be able to stop.

She didn’t like phone interviews, even if they could be done from the comfort of her own home while wearing her scruffiest jeans and sweatshirt. They were much too impersonal and it was hard to judge the purpose and direction of questions without visual clues. The call-in radio shows were the worst since it was impossible to guess what people were like or what they might say. Still, she’d never before fielded an obscene call while on the air. That kind of cheap shot was upsetting in the privacy of her home, much less with half the state listening.