Coming in Spring 2026…

For years, celebrity chef Jessalyn Packer has been a frog slowly boiling in a pot of water. But when she finally jumps free and flees both her abusive marriage and the state with her beloved dog in tow, her new life comes with its own challenges. Including an unexpected roommate. She vows to avoid men, but property developer Justin Norquist has a kitchen to die for, and borrowing his spare bedroom until she gets back on her feet feels like a safe option.
Until a woman disappears.
Being embroiled in one murder case is enough for any man, but when Justin finds himself a suspect for the second time, he gets a bad case of déjà vu. The death of another person close to him tears open old wounds, but the biggest question isn’t how or where or when—it’s why? And as he finds himself falling for Jessie, will a killer cost him the woman he loves once again?
*UNEDITED* Sneak Peek…
“What did you forget?” A man started speaking before the door fully opened. “Your eyelash curlers? A pair of shoes?” He wore nothing but a white towel slung low around his hips. Water dripped from chocolate brown hair, down a well-muscled chest, over a six-pack, and slid down two deep grooves that ran from his hips to his— Don’t think about it, Jessie. “Or the whole ‘it’s not me, it’s definitely you’ talk?”
Who the heck was this guy? Tiffany’s boyfriend? His irritation turned to puzzlement as he looked me up and down. Too late, I realised my jaw had dropped and hastily closed my mouth. Why was he missing half an eyebrow?
“Who are you?” he asked as Shiro dropped to his belly and began licking the stranger’s foot. Oh, hell.
“I’m here to meet Tiffany.”
“Who’s Tiffany?”
“Uh, just…Tiffany?”
That was the name she’d given me for the money transfer.
“You have the wrong house.”
He tried to close the door, but Shiro was in the way, eighty-five pounds of furry stubbornness when he didn’t want to move.
“This is forty Linden Avenue?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“That’s the address I was given. This is Greenway Park?”
“That’s what the sign says.”
“Then I’m in the right place. Who are you? Are you with Mandy? Or Kendra?”
“You’re in the wrong place because I don’t know any of those people.”
Maybe Tiffany had made a mistake in her message? Phone keyboards were so tiny, and people didn’t always read over their words before they hit send. Perhaps she’d meant number forty-nine? Or fifty? Or thirty?
“They might be some of your neighbours? Three women sharing a house? It belongs to Tiffany’s parents.”
“I know the names of all my neighbours. Is this some kind of joke? Did Melanie send you?”
“Who? I don’t know any Melanie.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning? Who are you, and what are you doing here with a dog?”
He stooped to scratch Shiro behind the ears, which Shiro must have appreciated because when the guy stood, Shiro sat up and offered a paw. The paw caught on the towel, and I watched in horror as it came undone and slid to the ground in a damp heap. No, no, no, no, no! Out of habit, I bent to pick it up—I was so used to cleaning up after Ridge—and found myself at eye level with…holy hotness. I let out a squeak and froze, then fell on my ass as Shiro began licking my face in concern.
“Fuck,” the guy muttered as he bent to grab the towel.
“I’m so sorry. Shiro, down.” Death was looking more attractive by the second. “No, leave his foot alone.”
“Okay, speak.”
Shiro barked, just as he’d been taught to do.
Uh-oh. They guy was back to looking annoyed. Annoyed with a hint of amusement in his coppery brown eyes.
“I-I-I rented a room here,” I told him, fumbling for my phone. “I’m your new roommate.”
“The hell you are.”
Something like panic began to well up in my chest. I’d paid all that money. Driven over an hour to get here. Several hours if you counted all the stops for the engine to cool.
“No, look. I just spoke with the home owner’s daughter, and this is the address she gave me. See?”
He scrolled through the messages, quickly at first, then more slowly as he read each one. Dread pooled in my stomach, and I began to get a bad, bad feeling about this.
“You paid someone sixteen hundred bucks to rent a room here?”
I nodded. “Security deposit and first month’s rent.”
“Sorry, but you got scammed. I recognise the pictures—they came from a local news article on the development. This was the model home. Whoever you sent the money to, they don’t own this property; I do.”
For the second time, the bottom dropped out of my world. In the grand scale of disasters, this one wasn’t so serious, but years of being stepped on by Ridge had left me far more fragile than before. Full of tiny cracks, and the slightest pressure in the wrong place opened up chasms. Tears began to leak out. I couldn’t stop them.
“I…I need to make a call.”
Tiffany had been so friendly, so helpful. The kind of person I’d wanted as a friend. Maybe I’d made a mistake? Gotten confused somehow? I held out a tiny shard of hope until I dialled her number and heard the recorded voice. The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. My heart stuttered as the full horror of the situation hit me—I was alone in a town I didn’t know with only a few bucks to my name, no job, nowhere safe to sleep, and a dog that ate like a small horse. The tears kept coming. I wiped them away with a sleeve and tried not to look like the fool I was.
“I’m so, so sorry for disturbing you. I’ll be on my way as soon as I can, but my car overheated and I just need to wait a few minutes for the engine to cool before I can drive it again. Shiro, come.”
I tried to walk away, and when the guy grabbed my arm, I shrank back on instinct. How many times had Ridge done the same thing? I’d always covered the marks up with long sleeves.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” He released me in an instant. “I didn’t mean to… What happened to your eye?”
The tears? Hadn’t he seen a woman cry before? “It’s been a difficult week. I have tissues in the car.”
“I meant the bruises.”
Crap, I’d bought concealer in the grocery store, but the tears must have washed it away. My black eye was more of a yellowish colour now, but it still looked ugly without make-up. My first instinct was to lie as I always did.
“I walked into a door.”
“And what was the door’s name?”
“Uh…”
“Did you file a police report?”
“It would only make things worse,” I whispered, and when he didn’t look happy, I automatically tried to appease him. “I’m going to file a report about the rent money I paid.”
Not that I expected to get it back. And even if it did somehow get recovered, the process would take months, and I didn’t have months. I needed to find a way to feed Shiro right now. Maybe I could get a job working double shifts and board him somewhere until I got back on my feet? It wasn’t fair to expect him to live in the car long-term, and we wouldn’t be getting a room any time soon. The thought of being alone in a parking lot at night terrified me.
“You know where the police station is?”
I shook my head.
“How long have you been in town?”
“About twenty minutes.”
The guy raked a hand through still-damp hair. “You had the dog for long?”
“Almost three years, and I’m not talking him to a shelter.”
“He housetrained?”
“He hasn’t messed on the floor since he was a puppy. Uh, apart from one time when he had a bad reaction to his flea treatment, but that wasn’t his fault, and he only threw up on the doormat. And he doesn’t have fleas. It was more of a preventive measure, and I never gave him those tablets again.”
The guy sighed. “The sun’s dropping. If you need someplace to stay tonight, I have an empty guest room.”
CONTENT WARNINGS
Fire is a mention only.
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