Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where, every Wednesday, 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!
After almost five years, widow and single mother, Tizzy Donovan finally meets the man of her dreams in Texas Ranger Ridge Cooper. But when he fails to show up for their wedding, she’s determined to find out why.
Enlisting the help of first cousin Jinx Monroe, and best friends, Rayann Tatum and Synola Harper, it’s not long until they’re dealing with clowns, yard gnomes, a missing stripper, and a Baptist deacon.
After a car chase and gun fight, head-strong Tizzy is more committed than ever to claim her happily-ever-after. All she needs is a séance with an old witch and a little help from Positive Jesus.
YOU’RE BUSTING MY NUPTIALS
Twenty-four hours ago Tizzy Donovan was naked in Ridge Cooper’s bed, screaming to get God’s attention. She loved everything about Ridge. How his dark hair curled at the nape of his neck when he needed a haircut. Steel blue eyes set against the hard lines of his face. Broad shoulders, thick chest, the way he held the steering wheel of his truck. God, she could see him, standing straight, thumbs hooked in his front jeans pockets, cowboy hat settled just right. The more vivid the image, the hotter she got.
A knock at the door snapped Tizzy from her daydream. She turned from the window, as Matron of Honor, Rayann Tatum, poked her head in. She was holding a large mug and offered it to Tizzy.
“Is he here?” Tizzy gasped, accepting the drink.
Rayann flipped her long blonde hair back and widened her green eyes. “Not yet.”
“He’s not coming.” Tizzy put the cup to her lips and took a big gulp. “Oh my God!
“Sorry, I should have warned you, that’s tequila, not punch. I thought you probably needed something stronger by now, but you may want to go easy on it because I don’t think you’ve eaten since yesterday.”
“Wonderful, now I’m going to hell for drinking in the church house. Not to mention all the fornicatin’ I’ve been doing with Ridge, and today he doesn’t show up to make an honest woman of me.”
Tizzy knocked back the rest of the drink and thought of every possible scenario for Ridge’s absence. Wrong church? There was only one Methodist Church in town. Flat tire? He lived close enough to walk to the ceremony. Cell phone gone dead? Two land lines were at his disposal. Heart attack? The chance of that couldn’t be high, but it would definitely be the best excuse.
“No, Rayann. It’s been over an hour. He isn’t answering his phone. Daddy went to his house. His truck’s gone. He’s not coming.” She started to pace. Her bare feet sank into the deep carpet, a small comfort against the ache the rest of her body was suffering. “What’s wrong with me? My first husband joined the Marines to get away and now Ridge doesn’t show up for our wedding. Am I that bad?”
Rayann fell in beside Tizzy and matched her pace. They zigzagged across the room like a band formation during a half-time show. “C’mon, Tiz. It has nothing to do with you. Boone enlisted to avoid Marlene. You know better than anybody what a witch his sister was. He didn’t want to spend his life working with her at the bank.”
Tizzy stopped at a small table and stared down at her wedding invitation. James Ridge Cooper and Marjorie Louise “Tizzy” Donovan, request the honor of your presence.
Up until an hour ago, it had been a perfect day. There’d not been a cloud in the sky. The sun shone across a heaven of endless blue, and the temperature hovered in the upper sixties. It held promise of being one of the best days of Tizzy’s life and now was turning out to be one of her worst. “Ridge told me he fell in love with me at first sight. I think you realized I was in love with him before I did.”
“Oh, honey.” Rayann embraced her. “You’d been a widow and without a man for five years. To say you were horny would be an understatement. You named your vibrator.”
A lump formed in Tizzy’s throat and her thoughts jumbled. “Yeah, and Clark Kent was getting plenty of action.” She rested her head on Rayann’s shoulder. “Ridge is the perfect man for me.”
“Yes, I know.”
“When he calls me ‘Margie Lou,’ my heart skips a beat.”
“I know, sweetie.”
“He gave Gracie a kitten.”
“Yes, and he gave you azaleas.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. He’s perfect. Any other man would have sent roses, but not Ridge. He gave me shrubs.”
Creator of the White-Trash-Face-Lift, halter tops, and beer-bling bracelets, Ann Everett is a fourth generation Texan and award winning author.
Ann grew up in rural small town Brownsboro, which is where her Tizzy/Ridge trilogy takes place. When she was a young girl, she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to live anywhere but Brownsboro. It’s just a spot in the road, but will always be near and dear to her heart.
For many years, Ann enjoyed doing stand-up comedy for businesses, corporations, and non-profit organizations.
Ann writes laugh-out-loud romance mysteries, with the perfect combination of Southern Sass and Texas Twang.
She lives on a small lake in Northeast Texas with her “current” husband of 45 years, where she’s busy adding to her line of White-Trash beauty and fashion, as well as working on a cookbook and her third novel.
Links to Ann Everett’s website, blog, books, etc.