"Fun, funny, fast paced and steamy. Ethan and Kizzy, get some help from Quinn and Xenia, Uncle Saul, and Adan. Love this series. I know I will get a fun laugh out loud story." Annie, Goodreads
Published: January 6th, 2020
Kizzy sees dead people, but she's a thief and talking to dead folks is about as useful as a three-legged horse. The Dragos clan booted her out when her year's take was a lousy five hundred and sixty credits. The only way back in is to pull off a million-credit heist. Alone.
When Kizzy's jobs as a roadkill collector and medical test subject goes south, she decides taking Montezuma's gold away from an Indiana Jones wannabe will be easy.
The snag? The Indiana Jones wannabe is Ethan Jones, a dangerous Coletti Warlord. Now that she's caught his attention, he's determined to capture her as his prize.
Can the ghost whisperer defeat the big, bad Warlord?
My clan is filled with accomplished conmen and thieves. The more loot you bring in the higher your status. To date, I’ve brought in five hundred and sixty credits. Uncle Aldo had faith in me. My clan not so much. They booted me out. The only way back in was to pull off a million-credit heist. Alone.
I was twenty-two with no real job skills, no money and the realization I hated being a thief. To keep me from becoming homeless Uncle Aldo rented me a cheap apartment on the sly. After a month of searching, I managed to find employment as a roadkill collector. My job was scooping up the mangled furry bodies. I was ecstatic. It paid twenty credits an hour but working in 110-degree temperatures was tough. I lasted a month before I ended up in the emergency room from heat exhaustion.
My second job was cleaning gross, fly infested porta-potties, which earned me another trip to the hospital for dehydration. The only upside of that nasty job was I happened to be in the right place, at the right time to rescue a three-year old girl from her kidnapper. Uncle Aldo had a fit when my picture was plastered all over the news vids. Being a heroine got me nada.
Utter desperation drove me to become a research subject in an experimental drug trial. When I started babbling about seeing dead people, they abruptly showed me the door.
About the author:
How do I come up with my stories? Being psychotic helps. I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for way too long. All those years of wild requests, screwy questions, bizarre behavior and outrageous demands have left me with a permanent twitch and an uncontrollable craving for chocolate. Don’t get me wrong. Working as a 9-1-1 dispatcher can be very rewarding. BUT - some days I felt like the entire world was nuts. I mean, c’mon, who in their right mind calls 9-1-1 for the winning lottery numbers? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone, I took up writing.
I made the Night Owl's Awesome Paranormal Romance Authors List.