Chapters (28)
- Praise
- Also by Christine Feehan
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- For My Readers
- Acknowledgments
- 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 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Special Excerpt from DARK LYCAN
“Remy will catch this killer. He’s very good at his job. I know things are a bit difficult right now, but hang in there. The public will get used to your singing in your club and eventually you won’t get so hounded. Everyone will protect you.”
She gave him a faint smile. “I’m Bodrie Breaux’s daughter. I made a career singin’ rock and roll, just like him. Now I’ve turned my back on that and I sing what I’ve always wanted. I don’ do tours and I’ve let the world down, not followin’ my daddy’s legacy. You should see the hate mail. Most people come into that club because they want to see a piece of Bodrie.”
Mahieu whistled softly. “You really don’ know how good you are, do you?”
Bijou shrugged and sent him a small smile. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.” She twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I spent so much time tryin’ to be what I thought everyone wanted me to be instead of bein’ myself. I was a rocker, like Bodrie, and everyone accepted me that way. I made a lot of money, but the life wasn’t anythin’ like what I wanted—or even needed.”
“It takes courage to turn your back on success,” Mahieu observed.
A small grin escaped. “I was terrified. Everyone was angry with me and told me it was a terrible mistake. I knew I couldn’t live that life. I just couldn’t do it. The drugs and drinkin’ reminded me too much of the way I grew up.”
She stared out the window as they drove along the bayou. She loved being close to the bayou, the bay, the swamp, all of it. She loved the French Quarter and New Orleans. She felt as if finally, she could carve out a place for herself, not Bodrie’s daughter, but Bijou Breaux. She wanted to live a quiet life, own her club and sing when she wanted.
She glanced at Mahieu. “I’m actually quite good at finding young, up-and-coming jazz and blues singers and bands. I know some great chefs and bartenders. I think I can make a success of the club. I love the idea of livin’ in the apartment above the club. It has great views and really nice balconies.”
Mahieu smiled. “Your leopard won’ like it much. She’ll need to run in the swamp. Remy keeps a house there, so no worries.”
“Does everyone expect me to live with Remy? Because I don’ see that happenin’.”
Mahieu’s brief smile turned into a grin. “You don’? Well now. That’s downright interestin’. Have you mentioned that to Remy yet?”
“I didn’t think I had to.”