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The Legend of the Inn at Maiden Falls…
There are lots of rumors, but no one is exactly sure why even the crankiest twosomes get so very coosome when they spend time at the historic Inn at Maiden Falls, nestled in the Colorado Rockies. Maybe it’s the beautiful vista of all that rushing water (the falls) outside the windows. Maybe it’s the clean, invigorating mountain air stirring up their blood. Or maybe (as the whispers say) there really are lusty ghosts of shady ladies past floating around the rafters. Old-timers say the inn was a famous brothel more than a hundred years ago; all the “soiled doves” may have mysteriously passed away, but their spirits remain to help young lovers discover the joy of sensual pleasure. Or so the story goes….
Dear Reader,
Ghost hookers who haunt a honeymoon hotel where they spice up couples’ sex lives? That’s the idea Julie Kistler, Heather MacAllister and I brainstormed in July 2002 at the national Romance Writers of America conference in Denver, Colorado. And now, June 2004, our stories have come to life as my book, Sweet Talkin’ Guy, kicks off our THE SPIRITS ARE WILLING Harlequin Temptation series!
In Sweet Talkin’ Guy, heiress and runaway-almost-bride Daphne Remington crosses paths with Andy Branigan, a cynical reporter. He smells a hot story, she needs a place to hide out and they end up sharing one of the bridal suites while pretending to be newlyweds. What they don’t know is their room is haunted by the once-notorious cardsharp and sharpshooter Belle Bulette, who thinks Andy and Daphne are hardly strangers but soul mates, and uses her ghostly wiles to prove as much.
To read about my upcoming books, check out my Web site at http://www.colleencollins.net.
Happy reading!
Colleen Collins
Books by Colleen Collins
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
867—JOYRIDE
899—TONGUE-TIED
913—LIGHTNING STRIKES
939—TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT
HARLEQUIN DUETS
10—MARRIED AFTER BREAKFAST
22—ROUGH AND RUGGED
30—IN BED WITH THE PIRATE
39—SHE’S GOT MAIL!
107—LET IT BREE CAN’T BUY ME LOUIE
Sweet Talkin’ Guy
Colleen Collins
To Julie and Heather, with whom I had a ball brainstorming our ghostly world filled with divine hookers.
And to my editor, Wanda Ottewell, for her encouragement and insights, and for keeping me on course.
The Golden Rules for Miss Arlotta’s Girls
We know rules are not your favorite things, but some things need to be written down. So here’s your Golden Rules, girls. Abide by ’em and we’ll all do just fine. We weren’t exactly angels when we were here the first time around, but we’ve got another chance. So we want to do what we can to keep the idea of holy matrimony satisfying so’s nobody’s man will be tempted to go lookin’ elsewhere for a good time. It may not seem fair, but them’s the rules. We helped ’em stray. Now we’re helping ’em stay.
Rule #1: You will never, ever do anything that might come between the bride and groom.
Rule #2: No visibility. You can’t be scarin’ the livin’ daylights out of folks by fading in and out or showing up in bits and pieces at the wrong time.
Rule #3: Never, ever make love with a guest yourself. No exceptions.
Rule #4: No emotional attachments to anyone. You can’t follow them when they leave, so you might as well not get attached.
Rule #5: When you have successfully put a troubled couple on the road to bedroom bliss, you earn a Notch in Miss Arlotta’s Bedpost Book.
Rule #6: Especially good or bad activities may earn you Gold Stars or Black Marks.
Rule #7: It’s gonna take ten Notches before you can advance. All Advancements shall be determined by Miss Arlotta and the Council, who will consider how difficult your couples were, how much work you had to do, your level of creativity, whether your heart was in the right place and those Gold Stars or Black Marks.
Rule #8: Any girl who disobeys these rules shall be punished.
Rule #9: Any and all rules may be changed by Miss Arlotta as she sees fit.
That’s it. Push those couples into as much wedded bliss as they can handle, and we’ll all do fine. You’re all creative ladies when it comes to what happens between the sheets. So let’s get to work and show ’em what kinds of sparks can fly when the spirits are willing!
Contents
Prologue
BEING DEAD isn’t all it’s cranked up to be. Good thing I died with my cigarillo clinging to my lip, a flask of whiskey in one hand and my trusty .44 in the other. Otherwise I’d be plumb out of luck for entertainment.
Belle Bulette pointed her Colt .44 at the godawfulest, ugliest ceiling light she’d seen in at least a hundred years and cocked the hammer.
Across the parlor, the same room where over a century ago she and the girls had greeted their customers, Rosebud flashed a disapproving look through her wire-frame glasses before returning to her book, Lady Chatterley’s Lover. The rest of the ghostly strumpets either made a great show of ignoring Belle or voiced their opinions of her.
“There she goes again, using the parlor for target practice,” sniffed Flo, tossing a shawl over her nightgown.
Belle barely glanced in Flo’s direction. The hooker’s persnickety attitude had irked Belle in life and just did more of the same afterward. Whoever coined the phrase rest in peace had a thing or two to learn. Shame Mimi forgot to help Flo out of her too-tight corset the night of the fatal gas leak—otherwise, the ol’ biddy