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About The Legacy of Buchanan’s Crossing
What price will destiny demand?
Warding the Crossing has always been Cayden Sinclair’s destiny. With her beloved Gran growing weaker, it’s time the little witch took her place. Juggling substantial curves for her frame and an inconvenient inability to control her power has always been a serious challenge. But not until discovering her fated Keeper is the extremely hot, tragically clean-cut insomniac who’s ignored her for months, does she truly fear failing her legacy.
Now that he’s finally on the road to the top with an offer from a big developer, Clint MacAllen can’t allow his struggling construction company to be threatened by a vicious nightmare, or his inexplicable attraction to a goth clerk working the graveyard shift at HandiMart—no matter how potent they are.
J. Milton Developments has its own agenda for Buchanan’s Crossing, and they’ll spill blood to get it.
Skate…roller skates. He recalled a well-rounded ass in a tight leather skirt, strong white thighs, black lace gloves, and a matching umbrella, for God’s sake. But it was night, dark, and certainly not safe, not all the way out there.
“I’ll give you a ride.” The words had bypassed his struggling brain and gushed out of his mouth. He didn’t regret them though, because he felt better as soon as they hit the air.
She considered his offer longer than he thought necessary, given her options.
Finally, she said, “Why would you do that for me?”
The answer came easy, the part he understood anyway. “Because it’s not safe to be bicycling or roller skating through some of the neighborhoods between here and Bradley, especially at night. Besides, I owe you one for bringing that scumsucker Dillon in here.”
And because he was uncomfortably, inexplicably fascinated with her.
“I don’t care about him. It was you I was disappointed in.”
He was digesting her statement when she went on. “Okay, I accept on one condition: You have to borrow this book.”
“You hardly know me. How do you know I won’t wreck it, or keep it, or sell it?”
“So I should feel safe putting myself in your hands, but not an inanimate object?”
Shit. “Well, not in my hands exactly.” Now why had he said that? What was it about her that made it so damn impossible for him to get a grip?
About the Author
Rhea Rhodan resides in Minnetonka, Minnesota and has been telling herself stories since long before she could write. She attended the University of Minnesota with a focus on Journalism, then Brown Institute for Broadcast Journalism. After many adventures, misadventures, and a couple of short marriages, she found the love of her life in Regensburg, Germany, and has been living happily ever after since.
She journaled those adventures extensively (some might say rabidly) beginning in middle school, but didn’t combine her writing and story-telling until several years ago, when one of the stories grabbed her by the throat and shook her like a rag doll until she gave in and wrote it. Having tasted freedom, her muse refuses to return to the confines of her head, and has successfully turned the tables, keeping her at the keyboard to appease it.
Her stories always had a twist of magic or a touch of the paranormal. Why the romance? Because she believes in happy endings, and helping people imagine them helps them create the magic to find their own.
She welcomes feedback and fan mail :>). You can join her on Facebook and/or Goodreads, too. Rhea is always happy to meet new friends.
You may also be interested in her debut novel, a Musa Publishing Editor’s Top Pick, Finding Grace, available here.