“Burning Love was a fabulous read from start to finish. From the serial arsonist turned killer to the growing attraction between the hero and heroine, it was hot, hot, hot! I loved it.”
—New York Times bestselling author
Sharon Sala
“I’ve been working on three cases very similar to this. I think this is his fourth fire.”
Jack’s spine stiffened. “You’re saying we have a serial arsonist?”
“I think so,” Terra said, exhaling audibly.
“There haven’t been any other fire deaths,” he said bluntly. “I would’ve heard about that.”
“If this is the same guy, last night was the first time he’s killed.”
“Why now? And why Harris Vaughn?”
“I have no idea.” Her voice was even, but the glimmer of brightness in her eyes reminded him that the arsonist’s first victim had also been her friend.
Dear Reader,
The days are hot and the reading is hotter here at Silhouette Intimate Moments. Linda Turner is back with the next of THOSE MARRYING MCBRIDES! in Always a McBride. Taylor Bishop has only just found out about his familial connection—and he has no idea it’s going to lead him straight to love.
In Shooting Starr, Kathleen Creighton ratchets up both the suspense and the romance in a story of torn loyalties you’ll long remember. Carla Cassidy returns to CHEROKEE CORNERS in Last Seen…, a novel about two people whose circumstances ought to prevent them from falling in love but don’t. On Dean’s Watch is the latest from reader favorite Linda Winstead Jones, and it will keep you turning the pages as her federal marshal hero falls hard for the woman he’s supposed to be keeping an undercover watch over. Roses After Midnight, by Linda Randall Wisdom, is a suspenseful look at the hunt for a serial rapist—and the blossoming of an unexpected romance. Finally, take a look at Debra Cowan’s Burning Love and watch passion flare to life between a female arson investigator and the handsome cop who may be her prime suspect.
Enjoy them all—and come back next month for more of the best and most exciting romance reading around.
Yours,
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Editor
Burning Love
Debra Cowan
MILLS & BOON
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DEBRA COWAN
Like many writers, Debra made up stories in her head as a child. Her B.A. in English was obtained with the intention of following family tradition and becoming a schoolteacher, but after she wrote her first novel, there was no looking back. After years of working another job in addition to writing, she now devotes herself full-time to penning both historical and contemporary romances. An avid history buff, Debra enjoys traveling. She has visited places as diverse as Europe and Honduras, where she and her husband served as part of a medical mission team. Born in the foothills of the Kiamichi Mountains, Debra still lives in her native Oklahoma with her husband and their two beagles, Maggie and Domino. Debra invites her readers to contact her at P.O. Box 30123, Coffee Creek Station, Edmond, OK 73003-0003 or via e-mail at her Web site at http://www.oklahoma.net/~debcowan.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I wish to acknowledge and thank Jack Goldhorn, Public Information Officer, Norfolk Fire Rescue, Norfolk, VA, and David Wiist, Chief of Fire Prevention, Edmond, OK, for their invaluable and generous assistance. You have my word that my small arson knowledge will be used only between the covers of a book.
All liberties taken in the name of fiction are my own.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 1
“Body found in blaze at one-sixteen Sorrel Lane.”
The dispatcher’s voice crackled across Terra August’s car radio. As the sole fire investigator for Presley, Oklahoma, she was already on her way to the two-alarm fire in the established Hunter’s Ridge subdivision, jarred out of a deep sleep minutes ago by her pager.
In the past ten years, the Oklahoma City suburb’s population had grown to nearly fifty thousand. The police department had hired enough officers before the growth spurt, but not the fire department. These last few weeks had doubled Terra’s wish for another investigator in her office, but until next year’s budget was approved, she was it.
Her mentor lived on Sorrel Lane, but she didn’t know the house number. Their frequent meetings had never taken place at his home or hers, and usually involved a meal somewhere. Please, don’t let it be Harris’s house.
After flashing her badge for the uniformed officer stationed at the neighborhood’s entrance, she maneuvered her Explorer down a neatly kept residential street. The older brick homes were bathed in a mix of moonlight and shadow. Red and blue lights strobed from a police cruiser at either end of the block. Fire trucks, engines, police cars and two vans bearing the names and logos of the nearby Oklahoma City television stations crowded both sides of the street. The frantic swirl of lights spiked her blood pressure. Less than five hours ago, she and Harris Vaughn had enjoyed a Sunday night dinner and put their heads together about a case that had her stumped.
Fighting to calm a sudden flicker of panic, Terra eased her SUV past three police cruisers, around Station One’s rescue truck and squeezed to the curb just behind an ambulance. The paramedic raised a hand in greeting and shut the door. Terra glimpsed the empty gurney inside. No survivors.
Her heartbeat stuttered, but she uncurled her death grip from the steering wheel and stepped out. The blaze was out, but gray smoke streaked across the midnight-black sky. Water from the firefighters’ hoses ran down the streets, gurgled into grates and glistened on trees, yards, nearby cars. Smoke still hung heavy in the air. Police and fire radios crackled into the night. Yellow crime scene tape squared off the house and yard. Officers stood guard at each of the four corners and probably in the back yard where Terra couldn’t see.
At one time, the single story, traditional redbrick home had been inviting. Now it looked cold and bleak. Dead. Still mostly