Book 2 in my RS trilogy coming sometime next year (I think) from Ballantine

It was Monday morning, and exactly one month to the day after she’d buried cousin Joely, Nia Hollister rode back into the small town of Ash, Kentucky.

She knew she’d caught some looks.

Small town in Kentucky, strange biracial woman riding into town on a Harley—yeah, that’s going to catch a few looks.

Those looks only increased when she parked in front of the sheriff’s department and got off her bike.

She was 5’10 and most of it was leg.  The boots she wore added a good two inches to her height, so she stood a good six feet even.  Add to that the fact that she knew she wore her anger and grief like an ugly, red scar, and she knew she’d have people looking at her, knew many of them would probably be whispering about her behind her back and wondering what kind of trouble she was looking to cause.

Well, she was here to cause trouble.