Digging the Dead Guys

Three southern-fried comedies with a touch of romance, a side of mystery, a smattering of paranormal, and three crazy sisters….

Freshly Dead, Book 1

All Mitzi Winston wants is enough money to pay this month’s mortgage payment. That is the only reason she even considers the phone sex job. Ever since her husband’s disappearance, she has held things together nicely—until recently. And now, well, she just needs the money.

Biting the bullet, she goes for the interview, only to find that the phone sex job isn’t real and she’s too late—not for the interview, but to save her husband. For there he is, dead on the floor, a bullet to the back of the head. To make matters worse, his ghost is hovering around and chiding her for being late. Not to mention he is horny as hell and trying to cop a feel.

Which only begs the question, “Do dead men still want it?”

Seriously Dead, Book 2

Molly Campbell had everything—a gorgeous Louisiana mansion, a rich husband, and a lucrative career. Had—not has—because her redneck husband dies in a seven-car pileup on the way to a monster truck pull, setting off a chain of events that leaves her penniless and moving into her deceased Gran’s home in Carrington, Louisiana.

To say lifestyle change is a bitch is an understatement.

She misses Don (and admittedly, his money) but doesn’t miss his belittling manner.

When he comes to her in ghostly spirit and apologizes for every nasty thing he’s ever done (too little, too late), and that he lied to her about the bank account (too little, too gone), and tells her she needs to pay off his casino debt to keep the family safe (too overwhelming, too damn much!), and suggests that the truck accident might not have been an accident after all (too creepy, too murdered?), she gives him the cold shoulder.

Molly has no desire to listen to her deceased husband’s honeymoon phase sweet-talk and probable lies in death. She’d had enough of that while he was living.

But Don insists he was murdered, and when things start happening—eerie phone calls, threatening messages, and bullets whizzing past her on Gran’s porch—Molly concedes.

With her sisters in tow, and aided by a charming, tattooed private investigator, Molly seeks to uncover the truth. The suspense and hilarity that ensues might make you laugh out loud—seriously. Dead serious.

Gratefully Dead, Book 3

Marla Newberry has no interest in dating someone local. She much prefers midnight runs to a biker bar in Shreveport.

Cooter Haines, drummer for a Grateful Dead tribute band called Skull Bone, owns the biker bar called The Deadhead. He also is the only guy who can curl her toes like a sprung guitar string.

And while she enjoys surrendering to his toe-curling occasionally, she’s not interested in bringing the long-haired drummer home to daddy—until the night Cooter tells her he loves her, and then comes up missing.

That Saturday night, a rival drummer makes a deal with the devil (aka the Skull Bone’s manager) and steals the drummer job away from Cooter. Cooter angrily speeds off on his bike and doesn’t return. Marla smells a rat.

Later, she wakes up to find a ghostly Cooter sitting at the foot of her bed. Dead isn’t so great, he tells her, and those rumors about Southern Rock bands jamming in Heaven? He’s seen no evidence. Plus, he’s pretty sure someone jacked up something on his Harley, making him roll the bike. He needs her help to find out who wanted him dead.