Small-town lawyer Karen O’Connell receives a call from Jack Curtis, her vengeful ex-husband, whom she’s never told anyone in her family about. He’s found himself in jail charged with murder. He says he's innocent, and Karen soon learns the mysterious circumstances surrounding the murder could be the reason their hasty marriage ended so badly.
The Secret Husband, The O’Connells, Book 3 is now available everywhere! “This is a real intriguing tale, filled with unexpected and surprising twists. Karen’s secret past comes back in the most unusual way.” Catlou
Small-town lawyer Karen O’Connell believes that all of her clients who have found themselves recklessly embroiled in scandal and trouble have done so foolishly because of love. She has heard far too many times that the heart wants what it wants.
But one night, Karen receives a call from Jack Curtis, her vengeful ex-husband, whom she’s never told anyone in her family about. He’s found himself in a world of trouble, arrested and in jail, charged with murder.
He says he’s innocent, and he needs her help.
Her first response is to say no, but Karen knows Jack isn’t the kind of guy to ask for help from anyone, especially not from the ex-wife he openly despises and hasn’t seen in years. She knows there must be more to the story—but what she doesn’t know is that the mysterious circumstances surrounding the murder could be the reason her hasty marriage ended so badly.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Suspense
NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Although some couples bragged of Friday date nights filled with romance and dinner, followed by extremely hot sex, Karen O’Connell’s Friday nights unfortunately consisted of a quiet, darkened office, a shot of whiskey, and the locked drawer in her desk that only she ever went into.
She stared at the names on the files that filled the drawer, names that were meaningless to the masses but left her reaching for the bottle of whiskey she kept tucked in the back, a single short lead-cut crystal highball glass, and a green velvet ring box. The drawer was a constant reminder, like an albatross around her neck, of everything wrong with her life.
At the same time, she only ever opened it on Friday nights or whenever she needed to add yet another file from a case where she hadn’t gotten the win her client deserved. It was a drawer that, she supposed, if she had to put a label on it, symbolized sorrow, heartache, pain, grief, anger, every sickening emotion that seemed to encompass what the legal system was becoming more and more as of late.
