KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench, where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site, so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

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FLIP OR FLOP
Murder House
BY LYNDA REES

Blurb

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Charli Owens strode a few feet from her pickup to where the auction would be held. A few characters she knew casually waited for the Sheriff and County Clerk to exit the Sweetwater courthouse. A couple of insurance agents, a boring, grey-suited guy studying his clip board—a bank representative monitoring the sale, and an older couple, made up the group.

A pickup truck with ladder racks on top pulled to the curb and stopped. Buckets and equipment filled the bed—a contractor’s work vehicle. A too-hot-to-be-loose on the street guy stepped out of the driver’s side and rounded the truck.

Trouble.

Shaggy blonde hair draped his neck, framing a swoon-worthy face. Light eyes glowed from his smile, noticeable from the distance. It lit up his face, causing adorable wrinkles at their sides. A slim waist joined long, slender legs in tight-fitting jeans. He dwarfed the petite, blonde with cropped locks, who climbed from the passenger side. The female reached in and helped a miniature version of her out.

Bouncing red curls topped the toddler’s head, and she wore overall blue jeans with a red tee shirt. Her father took her hand. The mom tiptoed to kiss his cheek, bent to do the same to their daughter then strolled around, jumping into the driver’s seat then sped away.

Lovely family. No danger there.

A pang hit Charli’s heart, having hoped to have a household like that by now.

Hunky Daddy ambled slowly, so his daughter could keep up as they walked. Petite like her mother, the imp looked about four or five. Dad stood six-feet-four inches tall at least, probably more like six-foot-six. Broad shoulders strained fabric of his black tee stretching across a rolling chest and rippling abs.

Stopping at the rock wall by the courthouse steps, he squatted and whispered to the little one. She slipped behind him, and tiny arms surrounded his neck. He grasped the pudgy hands, lifted her onto his back then positioned himself to allow her to step onto the wall. She sat with legs dangling. He hopped to land beside her and put an arm across her shoulders, giving her a sweet hug.

Charli pushed away jealousy gnawing at her and waltzed toward a familiar couple. “Hi, Sandy, Mike. Are you looking to buy?”

Twenty-something Mike Carey shook her hand. “Not sure we’re in position to purchase at auction.”

Sandy Carey slid a palm across her protruding tummy and shook Charli’s hand “Mike and I don’t understand the process.”

Mike nodded. “We decided to observe, though we’d love to bid on the Blossom Lane house.”

Charli swallowed a lump lodged in her throat. “You aren’t swayed by—”

Mike interrupted her bumbling attempt at posing the question tactfully. “Not a bit. It had nothing to do with us.”

Charli exhaled relief and inhaled hope, nodding at Sandy’s belly. “Congratulations, I didn’t realize you were expecting. Is that why you’re in the market?” There was the green-eyed monster again. Charlie pushed it down.

Sandy beamed. “Our daughter is coming in September. We’ve prequalified for an FHA mortgage, but there’s nothing on the market we’re interested in. Blossom would fit us well, but we’re not sure about tackling a fixer upper.”

Mike’s face reddened. “I’m not helpless, but a lot needs to be done to that house. You’re an expert and a real estate agent. Maybe you can help.” He pulled out a paper and handed it to Charli. “This is our mortgage approval letter.”

Relieved she wouldn’t need to compete with the young couple for the property, she reviewed the document then handed it to Mike. “You won’t be able to purchase a house needing renovation. FHA strenuously inspects your purchase to ensure it won’t require major improvements for a long while. They don’t want to put you in a position where they might need to foreclose.”

Mike solemnly nodded. “I was afraid of that.”

Charli smiled warmly. “I’m bidding on that property for my next rehab.”

Sandy frowned. “Don’t you remodel more expensive houses?”

Charli put a happy face on. “I’m taking the company in a different direction. There’s a vast market for reasonably priced housing.” They didn’t need to know about Charli’s effort to salvage her company and make a mark on her own.

Mike folded the sheet and stuck it in his pocket. “We’re having trouble finding a suitable home.”

“If I’m successful and get Blossom Lane, my intention is to bring it to perfect condition. I’ll give you first crack at it if you want.”

Sandy’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, absolutely, we want to take a look when you’re ready.”

Mike grinned at his wife then turned to Charli. “Thank you. That would be perfect.”

Charli cocked her head and eyed the handsome father and his child. She had hoped to be the only contractor bidding. “Pray I win at auction.”

The strange man’s head lifted, allowing a better view of his face. A square jaw eased into a grin, showing off glistening whites. Amusement appeared in almost iridescent gray eyes. Tiny wrinkles formed on outsides as he nodded pleasantly in Charli’s direction.

Damn. She’d been caught gawking. Just what a good-looking guy needed, a stroke to his ego.

The antique, double doors opened. Sheriff Wyatt Gordon stepped out with a woman. He scanned and welcomed the crowd, introduced himself and the clerk and explained the process. The auction began.

An agent Charli recognized purchased a couple of city plots for his out-of-town insurance company. Bidding started for a laundromat. The older couple upped the banker’s offer. A man in a business suit made a competing proposal. They countered a couple of times until he gave a resolved shake of his head.

Hunky Daddy sat quietly observing. That didn’t bode well in Charli’s mind. She’d hoped to avoid competition. His vehicle screamed contractor, someone who might bid against her. Blossom was the only property left.

Charli took a final look at figures in her notebook, reminding herself to stay within budget. She’d carefully inspected the house earlier in the week, gotten accurate pricing data together and assessed renovated value based on market data. Her bottom dollar was enough to satisfy the mortgage holder. It might not stand up against an aggressive bidder.

This guy better not be here for her house. The place had good bones. She needed it to keep her company afloat but didn’t have money to get into a bidding war, not if she planned to keep a cushion to deal with unforeseen issues.

It wasn’t simply her need to eat and provide shelter for her family. Self-esteem had suffered a deafening blow during dissolution of her partnership. Her pride was the size of a two-penny nail.

Damn it to hell.

That son of a bitch, Thompson Shade, wasn’t about to end her. Shoulders rocked back. Her chin shot high. Resolve eased her rigid jaw.

She’d bought many a house at auction, designed, remodeled and successfully sold million-dollar residences at major profits. This dinky, three-bedroom pit wasn’t about to get the better of her.

Wyatt opened the bid. The bank rep’s hand shot up. The elderly couple upped the price a thousand dollars. Charli’s hand went high, accepting the auctioneer’s offer a thousand more. Next submission increased another grand. Hunky Daddy’s mitt rose into the air. Charli took the next grand. The old couple’s eyes met, and they dropped out. Hunky Daddy and Charli went up a thousand a time, playing against each other.

Charli gaped at her scratchpad. She lifted her paw and shouted a proposition five-thousand dollars higher. Hunky Daddy grimaced then shrugged as he shook his head.

Wyatt announced, “Sold to Charli Owens.”

Relief flooded her lungs and swilled into her gut. She smiled pleasantly toward Hunky Daddy.

He’d already hopped down and was lifting his child to her feet. Without a gaze Charli’s direction, he took the girl’s hand; and they strolled from Town Square.

His fine ass moved side-to-side. Broad shoulders shifted with ease of his stride, as those lengthy legs took him and his daughter down the street. Sandy, shaggy hair was chin length and might look lazy on some men but enhanced sex appeal to a peak on this guy. She sighed when they rounded the corner and disappeared.

With nothing left to watch, Charli waltzed into the courthouse to finalize the deal. She’d searched the title, having done it many times before. Paying cash, the title company was prepared to close in three days.

Afterward on the street, Charli whipped out her phone and dialed. Her best gal pal, Jaiden. “So? Did you get it?” Deputy Jaiden Coldwater’s Texas drawl was nearly identical to local, Kentucky twang.

Charli chuckled. “Yep, I figured Wyatt would’ve filled you in.”

“Nope, information is confidential until closing. The boss said if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me. Congratulations. Your business is on track. We need to celebrate and then find you a decent fella. You need to get that fine tush of yours back out there.” Since Jaiden had gotten engaged to handsome surgeon, Clay Barnes, she’d been on a mission to fix Charli up.

Charli’s eyes shot toward the heavens. “Hell no; I’ve sworn off the male sex, at least until I finish this rehab and sell the property.”

“Whatever you say, but you can’t stay off the market for long. Your love life needs a total rebuild.”

“Don’t I know it. The finest male specimen I’ve seen in a long time showed up at the sale today. The dude was eye candy, palpitation worthy and sweating testosterone clear across the courthouse lawn. It literally made my thong wet when his dreamy peepers met mine. I was perspiring blood; my face went so red.”

“You don’t sound sure about this temporary-celibate thing.” Jaiden chuckled. She hadn’t masked her relief when Thompson had tossed Charli aside like yesterday’s takeout, and she wasn’t on board with Charli’s no men for a while choice.

“Honey, I’m not dead. There’s nothing wrong with my sight. I might not be shopping, but I can view the merchandise. That boy was too hot to ignore. I had to soak up some of that sex appeal while he was hanging around. I can tell you my libido is fully intact.”

“So why didn’t you hit that?”

Charli tucked away in her mind the male vision causing her to perspire like the morning dew. “The guy is taken, married. They have the most adorable, little girl.”

“Got ‘cha,” Jaiden groaned. “Oh well, at least, what’s his name hasn’t ruined you for other men. There’s a deserving guy out there for you, Charli. You’ll find him when you’re ready. Speaking of ready, when are we going to celebrate?”

About Author LYNDA REES, THE MURDER GURU

This multi-award-winning, multi-genre author brings you the best in mystery and suspense with a dash of romance and a smidgen of history. The free-spirited world-traveler’s diverse background and previous corporate career in marketing and global logistics, brings a rare perspective to her writing. Appalachian-born coal miner’s daughter, Lynda, is part Cherokee. Her love affair with books, mystery, and American history stem from being immersed in the Mob’s reign when Northern Kentucky prospered as a mecca for gambling and sin.

Lynda is published in mystery/suspense, contemporary and historical romance, MG mystery, children’s books, and nonfiction. She has won the following accolades for her books: KILLER NASHVILLE SILVER FALCION READER’S CHOICE AWARD, PITTSBURG PRESS BEST CHOICE AWARD, RITA FINALIST (2x), GOLDEN HEART AWARD, GOLDEN HEART FINALIST (2X), IMAGINARIUM FINALIST. I’m a member of MWA, SiC, RWA, KOD, MARA, past DRS VP, CRW, BWC, BCW, KRW, LLA, and Ky. Humanities, and provide workshops for Imaginarium, Killer Nashville, SiC, DRS, CRW, GLFW, WFWA, and the WA Romance Writers. 

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