Part of Series
In the second book of the powerful new series that reunites the beloved Coleman and Thornton families, New York Times bestselling author Fern Michaels brings readers into the turbulent lives of a Kentucky horseracing clan headed by the incomparable Nealy Coleman Diamond. A woman of substance, Nealy rides fast, loves hard, and lives with an appetite for winning no one can match. Now in Kentucky Heat, she tests her deepest beliefs with one shocking decision and one daring last race. . .. Kentucky Heat With Nealy, horses come first. So when her two grown children's irresponsible acts nearly cost her Shufly, the foal that carries all her hopes for the Triple Crown, she throws them both off Blue Diamond Farm, a decision that changes their future—and her own. To the world, Nealy looks unbreakable. Inside, her heart has shattered. Estranged from her daughter Emmie and son Nick, she struggles alone to build her racing stables into the best in Kentucky—and Shufly into the horse of the century. When Hatch Littletree, her ex-husband's law partner, pays an unexpected visit, he brings Nealy much-needed comfort. But he also brings turmoil. A tough Native American and a brilliant attorney, Hatch is determined to see Nealy heal the painful rift with her children. He's also a man Nealy cannot resist. Raw with emotion, and yet filled with an unstoppable energy, Nealy will face bitter disappointments, exhilarating triumphs, and a night of bloodcurdling terror—one that could mean the end of her dreams. . .and maybe her life. In Kentucky Heat Fern Michaels keeps readers enthralled, as the power of a woman's indomitable spirit leaps off the page. . .and rushes like a thoroughbred toward a finish you will never forget. Fern Michaels is the New York Times bestselling author of Kentucky Rich, Plain Jane, Finders Keepers, Yesterday, and many other novels. Surrounded by five children, three grandchildren, and six dogs, she shares her 300-year-old South Carolina plantation home with a resident ghost named Mary Margaret who leaves messages on her computer. Includes a teaser from the concluding novel in the trilogy, Kentucky Sunrise "It's a tribute to the author's skill that she can keep so many plot pots stirred at once."— People on Plain Jane "He's magnificent, isn't he?" Nealy said. Hatch nodded, his gaze never leaving the colt. "I have to say, Nealy, he's the finest piece of horseflesh I've ever seen." Shufly whinnied and would have broken away if the grooms hadn't kept a tight hold. "Careful, Nealy," Hatch warned. "Something's got him spooked." Nealy reached for Shufly's halter, brought his head down to hers and whispered in his ear. He immediately calmed, nuzzling his massive head against her arm. Awed at what he had just seen, Hatch walked over to the now calm Shufly and rubbed his muzzle. "Just out of curiosity, what did you whisper in his ear?" Nealy tilted her head to the side. "I simply told him if he didn't behave himself, I wouldn't take him out to the track. I told him he had to behave like a gentleman." Hatch grimaced. "And you're telling me he understood what you said?" Nealy laughed. "He calmed down, didn't he?" Hatch's eyes narrowed with disbelief. Was she putting him on? She certainly looked serious. Something in him clicked. Suddenly he had the overwhelming desire to know everything there was to know about Nealy Clay. He smiled. Nealy smiled back. She's in her element, Hatch thought. This is her life, her love. He was beginning to understand why Hunt had been so in love with her and why her children were so in awe of her. She was special, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. It was going to take a team of wild horses to keep him away from her. "Prose so natural that it seems you are witnessing a story rather than reading about it." — Los Angeles Sunday Times on Kentucky Rich
Author
Fern Michaels isn’t a person. I’m not sure she’s an entity either since an entity is something with separate existence. Fern Michaels® is what I DO. Me, Mary Ruth Kuczkir. Growing up in Hastings, Pennsylvania, I was called Ruth. I became Mary when I entered the business world where first names were the order of the day. To this day, family and friends call me Dink, a name my father gave me when I was born because according to him I was ‘a dinky little thing’ weighing in at four and a half pounds. However, I answer to Fern since people are more comfortable with a name they can pronounce. As they say, the past is prologue. I grew up, got a job, got married, had five kids. When my youngest went off to Kindergarten, my husband told me to get off my ass and get a job. Those were his exact words. I didn’t know how to do anything except be a wife and mother. I was also a voracious reader having cut my teeth on The Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, Cherry Ames and the like. The library was a magical place for me. It still is to this day. Rather than face the outside world with no skills, I decided to write a book. For some reason that didn’t intimidate me. As my husband said at the time, stupid is as stupid does. Guess what, I don’t have that husband any more. Guess what else! I wrote 99 books, most of them New York Times Best Sellers. Moving right along here . . . Several years ago I left Ballantine Books, parted company with my agent, sold my house in New Jersey that I had lived in all my married life and in 1993 moved to South Carolina. I figured if I was going to go through trauma let it be all at one time. It was a breeze. The kids were all on their own at that point. The dump was a 300 year old plantation house that is listed in the National Registry that I remodeled. Today it is beyond belief as are the gardens and the equally old Angel Oaks that drip Spanish moss. Unfortunately, I could not get my ghost to relocate. This ghost has been documented by previous owners. Mary Margaret as we call her, is “a friendly”. She is also mischievous. It took me two weeks to figure out that she didn’t like my coffee cups. They would slide off the table or counter or else they’d break in the dishwasher. I bought red checkered ones. All are intact as of this writing. She moves pillows from one room to the other and she stops all the clocks in the house at 9:10 in the a.m. at least once a week. When the Azaleas are in bloom, and only then, I find blooms on my night stand. I have this glorious front porch and during the warm months I see my swing moving early in the morning when the air is still and again late in the day. She doesn’t spook the dogs. I always know when she’s around because the five of them line up and look like they’re at a tennis match. As of this writing we’re co-habiting nicely. Most writers love what they do and I’m no exception. I love it when I get a germ of an idea and get it down on paper. I love breathing life into my characters. I love writing about women who persevere and prevail because that’s what I had to do to get to this point in time. It’s another way of saying it doesn’t matter where you’ve been, what matters is where you’re going and how you get there. The day I finally prevailed was the day I was inducted into the New Jersey Literary Hall of Fame. For me it was an awesome day and there are no words to describe it. I’ve been telling stories and scribbling for 37 years. I hope I can continue for another 37 years. It wasn’t easy during some of those years. As I said, I had to persevere. My old Polish grandmother said something to me when I was little that I never forgot. She said when God is good to you, you have to give back. For a while I didn’t know how to do that. When I finally figured it out I set up The Fern Michaels® Foundation. READ FERN MICHAELS' FULL BIOGRAPHY HERE: http://www.fernmichaels.com/biography/
