When their Kentucky bourbon tour takes a turn for the worse, two engaged couples join up with strangers to seek shelter in the ruins of an old distillery. Grace encounters more than abandoned spirits on the decaying property, bringing her semi-comfortable world crashing down.
Tensions pull at the group, splintering the couples into teams. Only it’s hard for Grace to know what side to be on when bonds are tested, and opposites no longer attract. Questions abound. Who really are the strangers they paired up with? Should she break convenient bonds for a risky one? Then again, does it even matter if they don’t make it out alive?
Please be advised – The Bourbon Country Series features fast-paced adult psychological thrillers where sexual assault, PTSD, self-blame, and functional alcoholism combine to form a potent blend. Recommended for mature audiences, ages 18+
Targeted Age Group:: Adults only, 18+
Heat/Violence Level: Heat Level 4 – R Rated
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I've visited a huge number of different distilleries on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail; several more than once. So as a whiskey connoisseur and adventure writer, I took the opportunity to merge my two passions into the perfect storyline. Psychological thriller and romantic suspense, with a healthy dose of bourbon on the side.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
In order to be the most realistic, I tend to mimic people I know while really bringing out their quirks. It just helps to know the characters like they are real people, since they truly are. The names are changed to protect the innocent, of course.
“We’ll come back soon. Maybe do our own barrel pick?”
“Hmm….” Vince rubbed his chin while Vic cowered against the side of the building. “What would we get?”
I needed to get him moving. The soldiers, along with June and Mike, had kept walking. They were already past us, heads down out of the wind, hiking toward the main complex with purpose. I probably should have changed the subject.
“So what would we get?” Vince repeated after he’d come over by me to stare through the foggy window.
“I dunno. Knob Creek?” I pushed off the building to head back out into the rain. “Let’s get going.”
He ignored the last part to scoff at my drink choice. “Knob Creek is good if you like that big corporate bullsh*t. I mean really, Grace? You would say that.”
“And you’d want Blanton’s.” I grabbed him by the wrist and gave him a gentle tug.
“It doesn’t have to be Blanton’s. We probably couldn’t even get a pick of that anyway.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. “You can’t even find it.”
“That’s why I can be down with anything.”
“I’ve noticed,” I retorted. “You’ll drink abandoned liquor straight from the barrel. I’m pretty sure you’re not picky.”
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