In Fiasco, Kentucky, there is one rule: never fall for a Foxx brother. Any woman who did, ended up dead—or so the rumor goes. Townies call it a curse. But I’ve lived it, and I won’t survive it again.
I’m not a cop anymore, but I’ve seen enough danger to know that Laney Young, the beautiful stranger who just showed up in my small town, is running from it. She’s lying about where she came from and what she’s doing here.
I don’t want her near my family or the quiet life I’ve made for myself. But my brothers have other plans. Now she’s everywhere–working at my distillery, living in our guest house, calling me ‘cowboy’ and skinny-dipping in my horse trough.
But it’s the way she dishes out attitude from that pretty mouth of hers that has me wanting things I’ve sworn to myself I’d never want again. I should push her away, forget how her lips taste, and ignore how she makes me want more out of life again.
When her past shows up and mingles too closely with mine, her lies begin to unravel. The rules don’t matter anymore. I mess up, dig too far, and get too close. Only two things have the power to keep her safe now: bourbon and lies.
Every bourbon is whiskey, but not every whiskey is bourbon. There are rules for bourbon to be called bourbon.
It must be made in the United States
The mash must be at least 51% corn
It must be aged for at least two years in a new, charred, oak barrel
The whiskey cannot enter the barrel higher than 125 proof
Nothing can be added but water and only to lessen the proof when necessary
In Fiasco, Kentucky there’s one more rule that loosely relates to the bourbon that’s made there: Never fall for a Foxx brother.
