Blue Dog by Karen Hulene Bartell
About Author Karen Hulene Bartell…
The author of 29 published books and Indigo, Karen Hulene Bartell was born to rolling-stone parents who moved annually. Her earliest playmates were fictional friends in books. Paperbacks became her portable pals. Ghost stories kept her up at night–reading feverishly. Novels offered an imaginative escape, and she began her first novel at nine, learning the joys of creating her own HEAs. Professor emeritus of the University of Texas at Austin, she lives in the Texas Piney Woods with her husband and *mews*–three rescued cats and a rescued Catahoula Leopard dog.
This is a spotlight on “Blue Dog” by Karen Hulene Bartell
Blue Dog Blurb
Finalizing her dissertation while emerging from a destructive relationship, Deirdre ‘Dare’ Doyle finds a lifeline in Clay Landry, a rugged park ranger who introduces her to the mythical–yet menacing–lore of Louisiana’s bayous. As their hormone-fueled relationship intensifies, so does the threat from her past.
Kirk, her toxic ex, sabotages her academic future, forcing a choice between her love and her dreams. But when Hurricane Kirk brings both a violent storm and a dangerous confrontation, an enigmatic creature intervenes, blurring the boundary between folklore and fact.
What Readers can expect from Blue Dog
A blood-racing, heart-thumping series of scares and pheromone/adrenaline-rich romance.
Genre: Romantic Suspense.
Themes/Keywords: Opposites attract, shapeshifter, southern gothic, Cajun folklore, Vodou legend, bayou rougarou, academic investigator vs. wildlife expert, toxic ex, academic/intellectual heroine, nature/wildlife expert.
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An excerpt from Blue Dog
“Can’t see a thing…” I squinted through the downpour. Wipers going full speed, I swiped at the windshield’s condensation.
When the cold front met the Gulf’s humid air, the skies erupted. What had been a sunny afternoon when I left Lafayette was now a white-knuckle nightmare. I turned on the lights and defroster, but neither helped visibility, and I slowed to twenty-five miles an hour.
“Great…” Muttering, I focused on the road’s center line and cleared a peephole through the fogged windshield. Slowing to twenty miles an hour, I fumed at the pace. I’d gotten a late start thanks to an ad hoc meeting with the department chair. Now this…hope Kim doesn’t worry…she has enough on her mind.
My favorite aunt had torn a tendon playing tennis. Though fiercely independent—solo ager, she called herself—she needed help after her rotator cuff operation. The good news? With my summer break just starting, I could lend a hand while finishing my dissertation.
Finishing? I sniffed. Not only haven’t I started it, but I don’t have a topic.
Thanks to Kirk…the jerk. If only he hadn’t—”Gah! Why did he have to come to mind?” Struggling to see, I smeared the dripping condensation, wishing I could wipe him from my thoughts as easily. If I could just—
A jolt through the steering wheel raced up my arms, knocking my teeth together. “What was that?” I swerved off the road and checked my rearview mirror. Did I hit a log? An animal? A pothole? Looking through the dense rain was like looking into sleet—a total whiteout.
A loud, low-pitched rumble shook the air, startling me.
My focus switched to my face while the background blurred. Panicked hazel eyes stared back above high cheekbones, framed by a shock of blonde, chin-length hair.
The air vibrated with another louder, powerful thrum. Even through the closed windows, the sound juddered off my ribcage.
“Rolling thunder?” I cracked the window to listen.
A third bellow resonated through the rain.
“Is that a bull snorting?” I shifted into reverse and inched backward, checking to make sure I hadn’t injured an animal. But after finding nothing, I rolled to a stop.
A deafening bolt of lightning struck nearby, blinding me as it split a live oak tree and curled the hairs on my left arm.
Then a dark figure dashed across my bumper, bellowing as it fled into the downpour.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as my pulse beat in time with the windshield wipers. I floored the gas, fishtailing as I sped past the vertically split tree toward Creve Coeur, Louisiana.
****
Minutes later, as I pulled into my aunt’s drive, the rain stopped as quickly as it had begun. My heart still thumped like a flat tire at high speed, but I pasted a smile on my face. No need to add to her stress.
Kim was chatting with a tall, attractive man on the front porch. Beside him stood a massive dog with a huge head and broad chest.
“Hey, there.” I waved as I stepped from the car. The next thing I knew, two enormous, muddy paws pushed me off balance, and I tumbled backward into the driver’s seat.
“Blue, no! No!” The dark-haired man leashed the enormous dog, then turned toward me. “I am so sorry. He’s a rescue that obviously needs socializing. I’ll pay for the cleaning or a new outfit. I do apologize!”
All I could do was laugh. After the tension of driving two hours in the beating rain, then the scare with the…whatever it was, the release was cathartic.
“Are you all right?” His charcoal-blue eyes appraised me.
Hypnotized by his penetrating gaze, I took a deep breath as my laughter trickled to a chuckle. “I’m fine, and these jeans will be good as new once I throw them in the wash.” I shrugged. “No damage done.”
“Appreciate it. This incorrigible runaway is Blue, short for Blue Dog. I’m reclaiming him after his self-guided tour of the neighborhood.”
“What breed is he?” I ruffled the fur on the dog’s massive head, each shaggy ear as big as my hand.
“Not sure, but I’m guessing a combination of Blue Heeler, Catahoula Leopard, Pit Bull, and heaven knows what else.” He switched the leash to his left hand and held out his right. “Incidentally, I’m Clay Landry.”
As we shook, I grinned at his obvious affection for the overgrown escape artist. Then my heartbeat quickening, time paused as his gaze locked onto mine. Can he feel my pulse through my fingers?
“And this speechless young lady is my favorite niece, Deirdre Doyle—”
“Call me Dare—”
“If you dare.” Kim cackled. “Family joke.”
“Kim’s talked of you so often, I feel I almost know you.” He gave a parting smile before removing his hand from mine to pet Blue. “What does Deirdre mean?”
Our connection broken, an odd emptiness rattled inside my chest. Strange… “She was a tragic Celtic heroine, the ‘Juliet’ of Tír na nÓg, who struggled between fate and free will.”
“Speaking of fate,” Kim half turned toward me with a private wink. “Clay was a student of mine a few years back.”
“You don’t say?” Synchronicity?
****
