At least Liam’s not living on that sinking boat anymore.


A seven-foot Jayco popup camper perched unsteadily in the back of a Ford F250 truck is not the best of all possible beds for a six-foot-two-inch man.  Even sleeping corner to corner, Liam’s feet still stuck over the edge, there was no toilet, no shower and no place to hang his clothes, in particular his uniform which, to uphold the dignity of the Alaska State Troopers, maintain the authority of the judicial system and invoke the might and majesty of the law, should at least begin the day unwrinkled.

On the other hand, when the seven-foot Jayco popup camper on top of the Ford F250 was parked in the driveway of Wyanet Chouinard, the prospect improved.  He had free access to Wy’s kitchen, Wy’s laundry room, and Wy’s bathroom.  He had free access to Wy, when Tim wasn’t home, as the door to Wy’s bathroom was six feet down the hall from Wy’s bedroom.  Even if the bed in that bedroom was smaller than the one in the Jayco popup, Wy was in that bed, and he didn’t really give a damn if his knees stuck out over one end of it and his head and shoulders the other.

Of course, Tim was home now, Wy’s son having returned from fish camp the day before to start school the day after Labor Day, so nights in Wy’s bed, comfortable or not, would be severely curtailed.  She’d made that clear last night.  “No hanky-panky with the boy in the house.”

“Is it hanky-panky if we’re married?”

“We aren’t married.”

“Then let’s get married.”

“Not yet,” was all she would say.  “Not yet.”

Excerpt from Nothing Gold Can Stay, the third Liam Campbell novel. I’m working on the fifth novel in the series now.

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Dana View All →

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