Denise is a Southern girl who has lived in Louisiana all her life, and yes, she has a drawl. She has a wonderful husband and two incredible children, who not only endure her writing moods, but also encourage her to indulge her writing passion. Besides writing romantic suspense, she enjoys traveling, reading, and cooking.
Accounting is a skill she has learned to earn a little money to support her writing habit. She wrote her first story when she was a teen, seventeen handwritten pages on school-ruled paper and an obvious rip-off of the last romance novel she had read. She’s been writing off and on ever since, and with more than a few full-length manuscripts already completed, she has no desire to slow down.
Q&A With the Author:
yes, I have a drawl. Iâ€™m an accountant two days a week, and a writer every single
moment of my life. With so many story ideas crowding my mind, I have no desire
to mute the voices in my head.
afraid of not living long enough to do everything I want to do before I die.
The temptation to earn a sweet payday and collect enough money to start her own interior design business is too much opportunity for Sophia Cannon to ignore, but working for her new client, Les Wakefield, is like working for a creepy stalker. He seems to be everywhere she goes.
Until trouble walks around the corner and into her life againâ€¦
Dylan Hunter almost turns down the Wakefield Manor restoration job until Les Wakefield tells him Sophia is the interior designer hired to oversee furnishing the old plantation house. Sophia has been the ghost in his life since the day she left him, haunting his heart with her memory every day and every night.
Stirring up more than just the spirits of the deadâ€¦
Sophia and Dylan fight with each other until a much bigger threat puts both their lives in danger. Discovering that generations of Wakefields have restored the plantation only to disappear months after moving in to the manor house stirs up spirits that would rather remain undisturbed.
Can love survive the long nights at Wakefield Manor with the unmistakable scent of gardenias hanging so heavily in the air?
centuries-old oak trees hung with draping wisps of gray-blue-green Spanish
moss. Like dark sentinels with drawn swords, the trees arched their limbs over
the newlyweds as they drove deeper and deeper into the heart of the plantation.
shivered as the first glimpse of the house came into view, and the meal sheâ€™d
consumed miles up the road rumbled in the lower regions of her stomach. Despite
the heat, chill bumps prickled on her forearms. An inexplicable reaction,Â really.