See You Again (Wishful 8)

Genesis (an omnibus including, Forsaken By Shadow (Mirus 1.1), Devil’s Eye (Mirus 1.2), and Blindsight )

Riven

Whisper of Shadow (Also available in the Magical Mayhem anthology)

YA:

Red

Whisper of Shadow

Excerpt When You Got A Good Thing (The Misfit Inn #1)

“Welcome to O’Leary’s Pub. What can I get you?” The greeting rolled off Kennedy Reynolds’ tongue as she continued to work the taps with deft hands.

The man on the other side of the long, polished bar gaped at her. “You’re American.”

Kennedy topped off the pint of Harp and slid it expertly into a patron’s waiting hand. “So are you.” She injected the lilt of Ireland into her voice instead of the faint twang of East Tennessee. “You’d be expectin’ somethin’ more along these lines, I’d wager. So what’ll it be for a strapping Yank like yourself?”

The guy only blinked at her.

So she wasn’t exactly typical of County Kerry, Ireland. Her sisters would be the first to say she wasn’t exactly typical of anyone, anywhere. It didn’t bother her. But there was a line stacking up behind this slack-jawed idiot, and she had work to do.

“Can I suggest a pint of Guinness? Or perhaps you’d prefer whiskey to warm you through? The night’s still got a bit of a chill.”

He seemed to shake himself. “Uh, Jameson.”

She poured his drink, already looking past him to take the next order, when he spoke again.

“How’s a girl from—is that Texas I hear in there?—wind up working in a pub in Ireland?”

This again? Really? Kennedy repressed the eye roll, determined to be polite and professional

A big, long-fingered hand slapped the guy on the shoulder hard enough to almost slosh the whiskey. “Well now, I suppose herself walked right in and answered the help wanted sign.” The speaker shifted twinkling blue eyes to Kennedy’s. “That was how it happened in Dublin, now wasn’t it, darlin’?”

“And Galway,” she added, shooting a grin in Flynn’s direction. “I’d heard rumor you were playing tonight. Usual?”

“If you’d be so kind. It’s good to see you, deifiúr beag.” His voice was low and rich with affection, the kind of tone for greeting an old lover—which was laughable. Flynn Bohannon was about as far from her lover as he could get. But it did the trick.

With some relief, Kennedy saw the American wander away. “Thanks fo

r that.”

“All in a day’s work,” Flynn replied.

“I’ve missed your pretty face.” She glanced at the nearly black beard now covering his cheeks as she began to pull his pint of Murphy’s Irish Stout. “Even if you are hiding it these days.”

He grinned, laying a hand over his heart. “Self preservation, love.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Kennedy glanced at the line snaking back through the pub. “I’m slammed here, and you’re starting your set shortly. Catch up later?”

Flynn lifted the beer and toasted her before making his way toward the tiny stage shoehorned beside the fireplace, where the other two members of his trio were waiting.

Mhairi, one of the waitstaff, wandered over, setting her tray on the bar as she all but drooled in his direction. “Well now, I’d not be kickin’ that one out of bed for eating crisps.”

“Wait ’til you hear him play.”

Mhairi glanced back at Kennedy, lifting a brow in question. “Are you and he…?”