Kelley St. John - Kiss And Dwell (Harlequin Blaze)

In the Louisiana bayou, the temperature is hot, the accents are thick and the sex is phenomenal. The Vicknair family knows; they ve lived in Cajun country since their Acadian ancestors stepped off the boat at Lafayette. The generations since have done their part to maintain that thick Cajun drawl, have adapted well to the stifling heat and naturally, have enjoyed their share of superlative sex .

But the Vicknair descendants acquired a bit of lagniappe, a little something extra, as well. From the moment the family entered Louisiana, each member merged with the other side. Not the other side of the state line, or even the other side of St. Charles Parish. Oh no, they traversed the boundary between the living and the dead. They quickly realized their only chance of living a seminormal life was by aiding those spirits who were having difficulties crossing over, helping them make what was wrong right, so they could find their way to the other side.

The newest generation of Vicknairs understands their duty to continue the family tradition and protect their secret. True, Louisiana is known for ghosts, vampires and voodoo. But so far, the Vicknair mediums have kept their penchant for the nonliving a secret. They live normal lives, for the most part. And the youngest Vicknairs want to keep it that way.

Perfecting their talent with every crossing, these mediums are slowly but surely learning how to determine a spirit s dilemma and help fulfill that spirit s needs. Moreover, the six cousins currently performing Vicknair medium duty realize that when a lavender-tinted envelope materializes on the infamous tea service in the Vicknair plantation s sitting room, it s time to get down to business. Time to help a spirit. And woe to the cousin who ignores an assignment. While Adeline Vicknair may be dead, her feisty temper lives on, and when she assigns a spirit to one of her grandchildren, she s not just whistling Dixie . She wants it handledor else.

Thankfully, the Vicknair grandchildren usually heed her call. They understand the simple rules associated with helping spirits, rules that have been handed down from generation to generation and that have never been questioned by preceding Vicknairs as far as they know:

A medium must heed a spirit s call and handle a spirit s needs in a timely manner. Failure to do so will result in unfavorableif not painfulrepercussions .

Once a spirit is assigned to a medium, the two are emotionally bonded until the spirit s requirement for crossing over has been fulfilled. This bond should never be abused nor taken for granted in any way, shape or form .

A medium should never lie to a spirit; likewise, spirits are physically incapable of lying to mediums .

A medium may not touch a spirit. Period .

Three girlsdetermined Nan, wild Monique and sweet Jenee make up the female half of the Vicknair mediums. Strong-willed Tristan, playboy Gage and tenderhearted Dax are their male counterparts. While the young mediums are repeatedly reminded of the rules, this new breed of feisty Vicknairs is under the distinct impression that rules were made to be brokenespecially Monique.

Nans back hurt with every movement, her neck had a crick in it that she didn t think came from sleeping wrong and pains radiated from muscles she hadn t known existed. She d slept late, which wasn t good, since the family had planned to spend the majority of Sunday working on the roof, but she simply hadn t been able to crawl out of bed when her alarm went off at six. Heaven help her, she d nearly be thankful when she had to go back to teaching in a couple of weeks .

Even trying to interest ninth graders in the Second World War would be a welcome reprieve from her daily worrying over saving the house. And maybe if she stopped worrying, things would fall into place. The Parish President would call off his attempt to destroy their home, the family would miraculously find a way to make all of the improvements that Nan had promised the Historical Society, and then said Historical Society would grant them the funds they needed for full restoration, without requiring them to turn her beloved plantation into some kind of modern freak museum, complete with Grandma Adeline s spirit, six mediums and a revolving door for ghosts.

She finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, and amazingly learned that the sorest muscles on her body were the ones composing her butt. Great. Edging toward the kitchen, she prayed that she hadn t taken all of the ibuprofen yesterday and silently cursed herself for not programming the coffeemaker to start automatically. Lord knew she needed a cup, or twelve, pronto.

Pushing the swinging wooden door, she entered the kitchen and smelled heaven, in the form of chicory and caffeine. Then she saw the source of her salvation and managed a smile. Monique. Thank you for making coffee.

Her cousin had been so focused on the notepad in front of her that she hadn t heard Nan enter. Now she raised her head, took one look at Nan and gasped .

Nanette, you look like hell.

And good morning to you, too, Nan said.

Within fifteen seconds, she was sitting beside Monique at the table with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and the Advil bottle in the other. Remembering yesterday s battle with the bottle, she extended it toward Monique.

Monique put her pen down, took the bottle and twisted off the cap. Think you may have overdone it a bit yesterday? she asked, handing Nan the pills.

Nanette chased two with a hot swallow of coffee. She squinted as the scalding liquid made its way to her stomach, then took another breath and another much-needed sip. We have one more weekend to get that roof fixed. I go back to school in a couple of weeks. Dax has gone to the beach. Gage and Tristan are both scheduled to work the next six days straight, and you re asking me if I overdid it yesterday? Shoot, I didn t do enough.

Monique sighed loudly. I m off work tomorrow, so I can help all day then. And I plan to help today as well, but nobody has shown up yet.

That s because it s just you and me. The homeless shelter called Jenee last night to see if she could come help today, since they were shorthanded again.

Nan took a big gulp of coffee. She offered to stay, but really, until we get more tiles, there isn t a whole lot we can do, and Jenee can t climb up on the roof anyway without getting squeamish.

Well, I m here for the day, Monique said. What do you want to do?

As soon as I ve got enough coffee in me, Nan said, and that s liable to take a pot or two, then I say we gather the tiles that we salvaged during the last couple of storms and see how many more we need to complete the job.

I thought we put those on yesterday, Monique said.

Not all of them. There are some in the shed out back that weren t in the best shape, but I m thinking that they re better than nothing, even if we have to overlap them generously to cover the broken spots.

Then what are we going to do? We ll have to get more tiles somewhere, and they re really pricey.

Gage said he was working on it and to give him until next Saturday, so I m going to let him worry about that for a while. Nan leaned toward Monique and eyed the yellow ruled paper. What s that? She read the single line on the page. Learn to love?

I ve got to come up with a game plan for getting my ghost to cross, Monique said. But so far, I can t even define the first step.

First step? Nan questioned, finishing off her coffee then rising to pour another cup.

The first step in learning how to love, Monique explained.

I didn t realize there were steps involved, Nan said, grinning. And that s what he has to accomplish to cross? Learn to love?

Pretty amazing, isn t it? Monique asked, now doodling flowers and hearts at the top right corner of the page. Me, trying to teach someone how to love. I ve never been in love, but if I don t figure out how to make it happen for Ryan, in merely seven days, no less, then he ll be stuck in the middle forever.