The Maid's Secret

ISBN Digital: 978-1-62830-369-8
ISBN Print: 978-1-62830-368-1
Page Count: 200
Word Count: 48263
Rating: Sensual (PG-PG13)


Twelve years ago, Jameson Parish spent a summer at her best friend Dancie Duvall's estate of Blue Chimneys. At first, it was all Jameson hoped for, including a passionate romance with Callen Marsh, the local bachelor that every woman seemed to have in her sights.

When Dancie died in a suspicious fall off a footbridge, Callen was suddenly nowhere to be found, and Jameson left for college amid rumors linking her to Dancie's death. Now she returns to Blue Chimneys, hoping to clear her name and put her lingering feelings for Callen to rest.

Callen, handsomer, wealthier, and more seductive than ever, falls in love with Jameson all over again. But, hungry to rekindle what they once had, he hides one devastating truth.

Soon, sparks fly between them, igniting old passions and lighting the fuse that will send long-buried secrets and lies raining down like fireworks on them all.

Rating: Sensual  
Page Count: 200
Word Count: 48263
978-1-62830-368-1 Paperback
978-1-62830-369-8 Digital


Goose bumps rose on her arms as the moistness crept through her hair and down her collar. Jameson stopped. She hadn’t used her flashlight yet, afraid it might be seen by someone up at the house, but now, standing at the top of the beach steps, she flicked it on. Missing a step out here could be disastrous.

Actually, Jameson had hoped Charlene might have waited for her at the top of the cliffs. These old steps were tricky enough to maneuver in the daylight. In the dark, they were treacherous. Callen had been right. She should never have agreed to this. Certainly, there were many safer places where they could have had a private talk.

Peering over the cliffs, she hoped to distinguish some movement down there on the dock, but the clouds were shifting fitfully across the face of a hazy moon, painting only shadows. She clung tightly to the railing on her right that ran along the face of the rocks, knowing the one on her left offered weak protection from a deadly drop-off. She forced herself to concentrate, watching only the step directly ahead of her, illuminated narrowly by the small yellow circle of her flashlight beam.

By the time Jameson reached the bottom, sweat was trickling between her shoulder blades and dampening her forehead. She raised a hand to shield her eyes and tried again to discern any movement near the benches jutting out into the inky water.

“Charlene?” Jameson’s voice rang strangely hollow in the dark, misty air. No answer. Hesitantly, she placed a foot on the planks that led away from the land.

Copyright © 2018 The Wild Rose Press, Inc.