Title: Black Diamond
Series: Wilds of the Bayou Series #2
Author: Susannah Sandlin
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Rating: 5*
Publishers: Montlake Romance
(Oct 18, 2016)
Paperback: 266 pages
ISBN: 978-1503940413
Cover Artist: Michael Rehder
FTC Disclosure: ARC provided by the publisher via Netgalley
For some people, the untamed beauty of the bayou is a place to hide. For Louisiana wildlife agent Jena Sinclair, it’s a place of refuge—one where she can almost forget the tragedy that scarred both her skin and her soul. But when the remains of yet another fisherman turn up, Jena realizes that Bayou Pointe-aux-Chenes is not safe for her…
or anyone else.
The mysterious deaths aren’t her only problem. A dangerous drug known as Black Diamond is circulating through Terrebonne Parish, turning addicts into unpredictable sociopaths. Jena’s investigation leads her to Cole Ryan—a handsome, wary recluse struggling with his own troubled history—who knows more than he’s willing to admit. If they want to stop the killer, Jena and Cole must step out of the shadows of their pasts and learn to help each other…before the evils lurking in the bayou consume them both.
Excerpt:
Cole stood inside the door, knowing she’d be there any second. She would knock, probably with a firm rap to remind him who had the authority here, and it wasn’t him. She would expect to come inside, and
while he could deny her entrance without a warrant, he wouldn’t.
It would raise too much suspicion. His fists clenched and unclenched. Again. Again. The press and release of tension filtered out some of the stiffness from his arms and shoulders. The woman was striking, her wistful expression had resonated with him, and he had wanted to look at her. He’d looked long and hard enough that she’d caught him standing in
the doorway like an idiot. Otherwise, he could’ve pretended to be gone and not answered his door. Now, hiding wasn’t an option. The last thing
he needed in his life was a woman. Especially a woman with a badge and a gun.
while he could deny her entrance without a warrant, he wouldn’t.
It would raise too much suspicion. His fists clenched and unclenched. Again. Again. The press and release of tension filtered out some of the stiffness from his arms and shoulders. The woman was striking, her wistful expression had resonated with him, and he had wanted to look at her. He’d looked long and hard enough that she’d caught him standing in
the doorway like an idiot. Otherwise, he could’ve pretended to be gone and not answered his door. Now, hiding wasn’t an option. The last thing
he needed in his life was a woman. Especially a woman with a badge and a gun.
Though expected, the sharp knock made his shoulders jerk upward, and his fingers clenched again into fists. Weapons his body provided to protect
itself, to protect him, to keep everyone away. “Sir, I know you’re in there. I’m Agent Sinclair of Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries.” Her voice was clear and no-nonsense. He tried to place her accent—she wasn’t from Terrebonne Parish but didn’t have a typical Southern accent either. “I want to
talk to you about the gator in front of your neighbor Doris’s house. It’ll only
take a minute or two.”
Damn. Now that he knew his neighbor’s real name, the Wicked Witch was dead. Now she was Doris. He took a deep breath, turned, and opened the
door an inch. Maybe two inches. A hazel eye, heavy on the green, and the bill of a dark-green baseball cap came into view,peering through the crack. A strand of hair that trailed over her forehead from beneath the cap shone
like pure molten fire. “You can open it all the way, you know. I don’t bite.
I’d like to come inside for a few minutes and talk, or you can come out on the porch. Having a conversation isn’t optional, but where we have it is.
For now. ”Damn it. Cole had to admit he was stuck and it was his own damned fault for standing in the doorway and watching her for so long.
itself, to protect him, to keep everyone away. “Sir, I know you’re in there. I’m Agent Sinclair of Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries.” Her voice was clear and no-nonsense. He tried to place her accent—she wasn’t from Terrebonne Parish but didn’t have a typical Southern accent either. “I want to
talk to you about the gator in front of your neighbor Doris’s house. It’ll only
take a minute or two.”
Damn. Now that he knew his neighbor’s real name, the Wicked Witch was dead. Now she was Doris. He took a deep breath, turned, and opened the
door an inch. Maybe two inches. A hazel eye, heavy on the green, and the bill of a dark-green baseball cap came into view,peering through the crack. A strand of hair that trailed over her forehead from beneath the cap shone
like pure molten fire. “You can open it all the way, you know. I don’t bite.
I’d like to come inside for a few minutes and talk, or you can come out on the porch. Having a conversation isn’t optional, but where we have it is.
For now. ”Damn it. Cole had to admit he was stuck and it was his own damned fault for standing in the doorway and watching her for so long.
He opened the door wide, dread giving way to curiosity when he finally
saw her face up close. She was beautiful but lightly scarred,
more on her cheeks than her forehead, so she’d probably been
hit by flying glass rather than having her head go through a windshield. Fairly recent too. The spots were still pink, but they were scars and not wounds. Five or six months old, he’d say. Eventually, they’d fade
and, with her fair skin, would easily cover with makeup. If she hadn’t been so close—not to mention his fixation on her face—he wouldn’t
have noticed them even now. “Are you going to let me come inside, or are you coming outside, or do I need to make it an official order?”
hit by flying glass rather than having her head go through a windshield. Fairly recent too. The spots were still pink, but they were scars and not wounds. Five or six months old, he’d say. Eventually, they’d fade
and, with her fair skin, would easily cover with makeup. If she hadn’t been so close—not to mention his fixation on her face—he wouldn’t
have noticed them even now. “Are you going to let me come inside, or are you coming outside, or do I need to make it an official order?”
You know how when you're driving in icy weather and you tend to clutch the steering wheel till your fingers get numb and your whole body is tensed? Well, that's how I was through much of this book. Wow, and I just realized that it only 266 pages! Believe me, there is a whole lot on story here. I love a book that can drag me so deep into it that I consciously have to force myself back to reality.
While, I'd not be happy tromping through the swamps these characters had no hesitation. I'd have crapped my pants at the first sign of movement, sure I was about to be some gator's little snack. Nope, keep me on dry land.
While I've not read book one in this series (I do intend to remedy that), I had no trouble connecting to the story or the characters as Sandlin gives you just enough details to make the story seamless. So if you want a great edge of your seat read grap this series. Just start it early enough that you can read it in one sitting as you won't be able to go to sleep till it's finished.
Suzanne Johnson writing as Susannah Sandlin is the author of the award-winning Penton Vampire Legacy paranormal romance series, including the 2013 Holt Medallion Award-winning Absolution and Omega and Allegiance, which were nominated for the RT Book Reviews Reviewers Choice Award in 2014 and 2015, respectively. She also wrote The Collectors romantic suspense duology, including Lovely, Dark, and Deep, 2015 Holt Medallion winner and 2015 Booksellers Best Award winner. Her new suspense series Wilds of the Bayou started in 2016 with the release of Wild Man’s Curse and continues with Black Diamond. Johnson is the author of the award-winning Sentinels of New Orleans urban fantasy series. A displaced New Orleanian, she currently lives in Auburn, Alabama. Susannah loves SEC football, fried gator on a stick, all things Cajun, and redneck reality TV.
Newsletter: http://www.suzannejohnsonauthor.com/newsletter
Twitter: @SusannahSandlin
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Susannah_Sandlin
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