Blurb Sensing Love
He finally found his soul mate, only to see her violently murdered. All in a dream. Sometimes it’s hell to be a psychic. Mataus Montoya has a mission. Find the woman of his dreams, and change her destiny.
Cara “Mo” Konklin runs Mighty Mo’s, a program for underprivileged children, on her ranch in Prairieville, Louisiana. The former soldier has no time for love and no belief in psychic mumbo jumbo, but when fate throws an abused child in her path, literally. And the crazy psychic’s predictions all come true, including the one that he is the other half of her soul. What is a sensible soldier to do?
Together, Mo and Mataus must protect the child in her care and fight the unknown evil that stalks her in the darkness. Mataus sensed his love, but will his gift be enough to save her or will fortune steal their happily ever after?
Excerpt One Sensing Love.
The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the curtains and fell on the beauty that lay beside Mataus.
Bathed in the light she glistened like an angel, her blonde tresses a golden halo surrounding alabaster skin, so soft and smooth it begged for his touch. Pale blonde lashes caressed her cheeks in sleep and her plump pink lips were slightly parted. Mataus leaned down to brush his lips to hers, but before he could taste the sweetness of her mouth he found himself standing in the dark. He was in the country. The smell of hay and horses permeated the air. No moon lit the sky, only a sprinkling of stars. In the faint light he could make out the shape of a barn and a house in the distance, fenced pastures and a gravel drive.
Mataus walked along the gravel road toward the house. A sense of foreboding clawed at his aura. As he grew closer, the outline of a large truck parked in the driveway came into view. A shadow crept around the vehicle.
Evil, a hatred so pure it almost brought him to his knees shot to his mind. An explosion. Flames. A maniacal laugh.
Mataus woke with a start. Sweat drenched his body. For three nights now he had dreamed of the angel in his bed, but this was the first time he had sensed danger surrounding her. Fuck! He threw the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed, swiping his hands down his face.
He needed a shower to think. Heaving himself off the bed he staggered to the bathroom and turned the spray on as hot as he could stand it. As the pounding water eased his taut muscles flashes of his dream ran through his head. He closed his eyes and the woman appeared in front of him, so vibrant and real, he wanted to reach out and touch her. In his heart, he knew she was the key. The missing essence that would blend with his aura and complete his soul.
Switching off the water, Mataus scrubbed a towel over his skin and walked to the sink. Naked, he ran the electric razor over his face, brushing his teeth at the same time. A heavy swipe of deodorant, to combat the New Orleans heat, then a splash of cologne and he was set for the day.
Sauntering into the bedroom he threw on a pair of well-worn jeans and a T-shirt that said, You’re never too old to have invisible friends. Barefoot, he headed for the kitchen and some chicory coffee and a beignet.
As soon as Mataus had a little caffeine in his system he knew what he needed to do. He had to call his cousin Harley.
Excerpt Two Sensing Love.
Shannon had badgered her endlessly, so Mo had given in, and much to her chagrin. She now sat at the long polished bar at the Spotted Cat Jazz Club. Shannon insisted it was “real” New Orleans jazz, not the gimmicky stuff for tourists, but a place the locals loved. Personally, Mo liked country music. However, she wouldn’t dare say that in here, she’d probably get killed with just a look.
She glanced at her watch for the tenth time and lamented the fact that her friend was running late as usual. Mo ran on military time. If you were supposed to be somewhere at nineteen hundred hours, seven o’clock civilian time, then you got there at a quarter to seven or you were late. Shannon ran on southern time. That meant she arrived around seven-thirty, if Mo was lucky.
She sipped her slippery nipple and tapped her foot on the bar stool. Mo didn’t have PTSD exactly, but she was uncomfortable in crowds. She liked to keep her back to the wall and her eye on the door. In this place, however, if she moved to a back booth, she wouldn’t be able to see the entrance. Her eyes nevertheless, scanned the room in a continuous arc, unconsciously searching the room for danger, and she kept an ever-present gaze toward the front door.
Therefore, she couldn’t have missed his entrance. Six-foot-three inches of solid muscle encased in black leather pants and a skin tight black T-shirt sauntered in the door. His face was surrounded by a mass of shaggy brown hair, but it was the deep black eyes that zeroed in on her that held her stunned. Those eyes shone with a moment of incredible recognition, quickly masked, and then his face split into a brilliant smile. Bright white teeth flashed in his dark skin, and the man headed straight for her.
Oh shit! Cara turned back to the bar, hoping in vain the man would not approach. She knew her ploy had failed when she felt a warm presence at her side.
“Is this seat taken?” a deep voice with a slight Cajun lilt asked, sending heat cascading up her spine. As much as Cara wanted to say “yes” she couldn’t lie. “No, please have a seat,” she answered.
“Mataus Montoya,” he said extending a hand to her. Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his. A spark zipped up her arm at the contact.
“Cara Konklin, but you can call me Mo.”
“Really? How do you get Mo out of Cara?”
“Long story. I was in service and it’s just what I ended up with as a nickname. Everyone calls me Mo.”
“But you won’t tell me how you got the nickname?”
“Nope, gotta earn that privilege.”
“Well, I look forward to that. Can I buy you a drink, Mo?”
“I’m still good with this one, but thanks.”
“You here all alone?”
“No, I’m waiting for friends. They are running late, as usual,” she muttered.
“Uh oh. Not happy with your friends?”
“Oh, I’m not mad. Just irritated. Shannon is always late. It’s a pet peeve of mine.”
“I’ll try to remember that too.”
“Why would you need to remember that?”
“Because I will be seeing you again.”
“Moving a little fast there, cowboy. What makes you think so?”
“I can see the future?”
Mo raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? Does that line ever work with girls?”
Mataus laughed. “I’m not joking. I’m a psychic,” he said with a straight face.
“You’re really not joking are you?”
He reached out and took both her hands in his. “No, I’m not.”
Mo was getting a little freaked out. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
He stroked a thumb across her knuckles. “Because I’ve been dreaming of you.”
She pulled her hands back as if she’d been burned. What the fuck?
“Okay, mister, did somebody give you a day pass from the funny farm?”
The man had the gall the laugh, hard. “No, sweet Mo. I love that name, by the way. I am not an escaped mental patient. You do know you are in New Orleans, right? Home of psychics, HooDoo, VooDoo, and all kinds of other spiritual phenomenon.”
“I live in Prairieville, I’m not used to you crazy New Orleans folk,” Mo replied.
Mataus shook his head. “We’re not crazy, just a little different.”
“If you say so,” Mo knew she looked skeptical. Shannon and Mike chose that moment to make an appearance. Shannon threw her arms around Mo’s neck from behind and kissed her cheek.
“Hey lady, sorry we’re late. The sitter was late—”
“Save it, soldier. I know the drill,” Mo interrupted.
Shannon laughed. “Yeah, I know, ‘no excuses, soldier.’ So, who’s the handsome honey keeping you company? Introduce us.”
“Mataus Montoya, may I present my erstwhile friends Shannon and Mike Hodgins.”
“Mataus Montoya? Are you the Mataus Montoya? The famous artist? The one that does all those fabulous landscapes of New Orleans?” Shannon asked.
Mataus blushed. “Guilty as charged, yes.”
“Wow, Mo. You’re sitting with a celebrity.”
“Hmm, I thought you said you were a psychic? And frankly, I thought you were crazy.”
Shannon looked from one to the other with curiosity.
“I am a psychic, I didn’t say it was my job,” Mataus replied. “And I told you I wasn’t crazy.”
“What’s going on here?” Shannon asked.
“Let’s get a table. I think we have some talking to do,” Mo said.
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I was thrilled when Sable Hunter asked me to write for the Hell Yeah series! I have always loved the McCoys, and Sable is one of my favorite authors. My book, Sensing Love, is linked to Sable’s book, Burning Love, which is one of my favorites. I adored Harley and Beau and it was so fun to include them in this book!
I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Mo is a very special character to me. She is based on one of my foster daughters, a real life heroine, and US Army veteran. Tell me in the comments if you have a hero/heroine in your life.