Denise is a Southern girl. She 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
scrapbooking.

Accounting is a skill she learned to earn a
little money to support her writing habit. She wrote he 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 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.

 

When someone touches Naomi Fuller, she catches visions of
dark memories that fill the other person’s soul with regret, fear, or shame. Living
with other people’s guilt leaves little room in her psyche for her own history.
She recalls seemingly unconnected events, but did those horrible incidents
happen yesterday, last week, or six years ago?
Naomi believes someone is messing with her mind, so she
turns to Sidney Ashe for help untangling her distorted timeline, but the more
she leans on him, the more she questions his motives. Can she distance herself from
Ashe when her heart is hopelessly falling for him?

As Naomi struggles to understand how her emerging memories
mesh with the guilty memories of everyone around her and things become clearer,
she fears there is a killer in Clallam County who would do anything to stop her
from remembering.

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 Snippet Time!

The man cleared his throat, and Naomi returned her attention
to him. A smile almost erupted on her face, but she bit her lip to stop it from
happening. No use. She couldn’t stop the grin. “Thanks for helping me with the
table.”
“No problem.” His eyes sparkled with pleasure.
“So…thanks for stopping by, but is there some reason you’re
here?” She’d never been able to ask that question without sounding rude. Maybe
he was just being neighborly or friendly. Maybe this was only a social call.
People did that, didn’t they?
“I heard you had moved here again.” His statement seemed
more like a question. Curiosity flickered in his eyes.
Hadn’t they had this conversation already when he supposedly
came to check on her?
Strong emotion flashed across his handsome face. “I’m glad
you’re back. I’ve missed you.”
Yes, the conversation they’d had the night before was
repeating.
Something about the man tugged on all her senses. The urge
to run her fingers through his hair, to lean against his chest and take a deep
whiff of him, to find out what his lips tasted like slammed into her
consciousness. She’d never had such an intense reaction to a stranger. Could
the man be someone from her past whom she simply didn’t remember? If he were
someone she used to know, she wouldn’t mind knowing him again. He certainly
seemed to know her.
“Things haven’t been the same since you left. At least I
haven’t been the same.” His baritone voice lowered at least an octave as he
stepped closer to her.
The deep huskiness of his tone sent a surge of excitement
through her body. Wavy brown hair curled just at his ear. Stubble darkened his
strong jawline. Intelligence flashed in his hazel eyes as their gazes met.
Her ancient refrigerator belched, interrupting her bold
scrutiny of him. Well, bold for her. She tried never to meet anyone’s gaze.
Direct eye contact invited interaction, but she couldn’t help staring into his
eyes.

 

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