Georgia Knights

By Julia Talbot

When anthropologist Georgia Cortez heads to rural Georgia from New Mexico, she's on the trail of a juicy old legend. Haley Falls seems like just the place for old-time ghost stories and spooky hauntings, but she's on the hunt for something far rarer, a survival of an old sect of medieval knights.

Caid and Alton are Haley Fall natives, and they used to be best friends. A falling out years ago ended in them not speaking, even after Alt left town and returned older, if not wiser. They unite when it comes to a nosy scholar like Georgia picking apart their heritage, and putting their whole town in danger. When boys meet girl, though, they decide wooing is far better than scaring the lady off, and they set about distracting Georgia in the best way.

While their three way romance heats up, so does the intrigue in Haley Falls, until the three of them are facing a danger far worse than falling in love with each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Turtlehat Creatives
• Release date: Jul 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781951532673

Book preview

1

G eorgia.

I’m sorry, honey, this is Dothan, Alabama. Not Georgia.

Georgia Cortez rolled her eyes and waved her menu at the waitress, whose red hair looked like it might just be dyed with blood. Who knew? The Deep South had that sort of vibe to her, all ghosts and hoodoo.

No, I mean my name is Georgia, not honey. Can I get hash browns instead of grits?

The nametag proclaimed the waitress JoEllen, and JoEllen popped her gum and looked at Georgia like she was a new kind of bug. You ain’t from around here, are you, honey?

No, ma’am. I’m from southern New Mexico, though. Does that count?

Well, they do say those folks fought for the South in the war… She got a wink and a chuckle before JoEllen refilled her coffee cup. Sure, you can.

Then I’ll take the two eggs over easy, hash browns, bacon, and wheat toast.

You got it, JoEllen said, turning and bellowing at the cook. Two over, plate, bacon, wheat!

Man, a diner where they still yelled out the orders. What were the odds? Georgia let that sink in a minute, then got out her guidebook, flipping through to see how much farther it was to East Egypt, Georgia. Well, okay, so it was more like someplace outside of Plains, but damn, her GPS wasn’t working on her phone, and it seemed like she was in hell.

You need some directions, honey? the waitress asked, slapping her plate down in front of her. Shit, that had been fast.

Well, I know how to get to Plains from here, but the town I’m looking for isn’t on the map.

The gum popped again, making her flinch. You want ketchup? I’ll ask Minnie. She’s from over in Georgia. What town you looking for?

Haley Falls.

You got it.

JoEllen left her, and Georgia gave up on the map, digging into the breakfast she sorely needed. Oh. Yum. Grease. She did appreciate that. Bacon. A gift from the gods.

Gods. Weird, how she was Georgia the woman and she was going to Georgia the state. She was a cultural anthropologist, and there was this thing in Haley Falls…

A napkin covered in spidery black handwriting dropped in front of her. Here you go, honey. Minnie made you a map and some directions.

Thanks. And it’s Georgia.

Sure it is, honey, but we ain’t best friends or nothin’. I call everyone honey.

Well, that was enough to make her give up, just nodding and pushing her hair off her forehead. Heavy, monster-curly in the humidity, the stuff was like a bunch of black Medusa snakes. Jeez.

Okay, so she could find Haley Falls. When she looked down at the map it seemed… small. Isolated. She was used to that, though, right? She’d been out in the field in the outback of Australia and the wilds of the Amazon. She’d been to Sri Lanka and Thailand. Hell, even parts of Texas were more isolated than anywhere in Georgia. Maybe it was just that whole namesake state thing that was making her so nervous.

Time to put on her big girl panties and walk it off.

Georgia finished up her eggs, sopping up the yolks with toast before tossing down the rest of the bitter coffee. She paid JoEllen at the register, making sure she left a good tip so she wouldn’t give her fellow New Mexicans a bad name. And to be fair, the woman had been an exceptional waitress.

Despite that whole honey thing.

Lookee there, Caid, Frank Emory said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice out against the asphalt. That’s some fancy rental car.

Caid Chevalier glanced up from the brake drum he was working on, wiping a greasy hand on his cheek. Shitfire and save matches, that sure was a pretty ride. One of those sleek new SUV combos that looked almost like a car, but had four-wheel drive.

Nice. She sure ain’t from around here, huh?

You got that right. Not bad, though.

The lady in question stepped out of the car, one leg at a time, cowboy boots and too-long jeans suiting her to the ground. She was short, curvy, and had hair like an out of control black poodle. Cute.

Pushing up her sunglasses, the lady peered at the gas pumps before her lips pursed up just like ninety percent of the lost tourists’ mouths did. They didn’t have a credit card option.

Hell, the garage wouldn’t have a credit card machine at all if it weren’t for Allen McIntyre, who owned an old Corvette Stingray, which had parts that cost more than God.

Excuse me?

Caid looked over at old Frank, who didn’t move a muscle, and sighed. Wiping his hands on a rag, he went on out to meet the lady halfway to the garage bay.

Yes, ma’am?

Do I need to pre-pay? Her eyes were a weird light brown, kinda like good Tennessee whiskey. It made her face almost pretty, softening the sharp lines of cheek and chin, her nose a bit too long.

This is a full service place, honey, he said. When the service feller feels like getting off his sorry ass. Pardon my French.

She blinked, then kinda grinned at him. Is the honey thing mandatory?

Huh?

Well, everyone and his neighbor has called me honey or darlin’ or sugar since I hit central Texas. In New Mexico they tend toward, ‘Hey, lady’.

I reckon so. New Mexico, huh? Was that even a state? Anyway, if you want some gas, I’ll just need to know if you want me to fill ‘er up, or if you just want ten dollars worth or something.

I need to fill it up. Can you tell me how far I am from Haley Falls?

You mean the actual falls? Or the town? ‘Cause if you want the town, this is it. There’s a grocery up the way, and an Arby’s…

Oh. Well, that was what I needed to know. Is there a hotel?

Closest is the Motel 6 over to Lehman, Frank interjected, spitting again.

Her nose wrinkled, just a little, and Caid bit off a grin.

Thanks. I suppose I should have checked first.

There’s a bed and breakfast, too. Right here in town. Caid had no idea why he’d just offered that, ‘cept for the fact that Miss Amy needed some customers. That and he thought the new girl was damned intriguing.

Yeah? She twisted a lock of hair, head tilted. Well, I’ll look into it. Thanks. Uh. Gas?

Sure. Sure, h--ma’am. I’ll fill ‘er up.

Damn, he was acting like a fool. Caid usually had any situation under control, but this lady had him stammering like a teenager. Which he so wasn’t. Not by a long shot. He got the pump going, trying not to leave greasy fingerprints on the lady’s fancy car.

So, this bed and breakfast…

Caid tried not to jump, but he’d been awfully wrapped up in thinking things he ought not be thinking. Yes, ma’am?

Is it nice?

Frank snorted loud, but Caid stared him down. Asshole. It’s right nice. Real clean.

Place is haunted, Frank interjected, and Caid sighed. Well, that ought to run her off for sure.

No shit? Well, that’s decided me. If she has a room, I’ll stay there. The lady winked over at Frank, smiling bright. I like ghosts and stuff. She turned that lethal little smile back on him. Do you have a card or something for it?

Sure. I got a brochure in by the register. Amy had printed them up last year, despite Caid telling her it was a waste of time.

Do you have Cokes in there, too? This humidity is killing me.

The urge to tell her it worked well with her hair almost overcame him, but Caid just nodded. Sure. Go on and have a look.

Thanks. She waved a hand, silver and turquoise flashing, and headed on in.

You’re drooling, boy. Frank said, grunting at the end just like the damned old pig he was.

I am not. I’m just lookin’. Ain’t no harm in that. It wasn’t like he’d taken a vow of celibacy or something, and lord knew he’d seen everything Haley Falls had to offer at least once.

Some of them two or three times. Haley Falls was a small town.

Caid sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Some days it just seemed like he was wasting his time in this little town. Of course, the times that made it all worthwhile came along few and far between, but they did come along, and God knew he didn’t know where else to go. He’d never been far from home, ever.

The pump clicked off, and he noted the amount before making tracks for the office, where the lady from New Mexico waited with a brochure for Amy’s, a bag of Doritos, and a Diet Coke.

That’ll be it? he asked, ringing everything up.

Yep. Thanks.

That’s twenty-five eighteen, then.

The one ring was a turtle, the shell a swirl of silver and blue, and he smiled. Turtle, huh? Do you collect ‘em?

I like to think of it as my totem. I’m kind of impatient. Turtle reminds me to take it slow.

Huh. ‘Round here they remind you that the critters in deep water will bite your toes off.

She blinked, then laughed right out loud. I’ll take that, too. I’m Georgia, by the way.

Yeah, he’d seen that on her credit card. But he held out his hand anyway. Caid. Pleased.

Thanks, Caid. And thanks for the lead on the B&B. Have a good one.

You too, he agreed, watching her round ass as it swung out the door. Honey.

2

S o, is this place really haunted? Georgia asked, forking up some amazing spaghetti carbonara.

Amy, the lady who ran the bed and breakfast (and who also called her honey) jerked, sending a leaf of balsamic covered lettuce right onto the floor. Gracious, honey. Who told you that?

The guy at the filling station. Uh. Caid.

Oh. Well, he’s a pistol. Discreetly cleaning up the salad, Amy pushed her hair back and smiled over. It’s supposed to be, I guess. But I’ve never seen or heard anything.

Amy seemed like a really sweet lady. She had limp blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, and a figure that ran toward biscuits and bacon, if the softness of it was any indication. Her little bed and breakfast had a lot of charm, the 1840s house cute as a button and filled with crown moldings and window seats, with a French blue and yellow color scheme.

It was very Home and Garden gone a little redneck crazy.

And man, could that woman cook. Nothing like the red and green chile concoctions she loved so much at home, but tasty and filling.

Georgia grinned. Well, if you have anything, I should be able to tell you.

Oh, are you sensitive to haints?

Haints. Gracious, she’d never heard that in real life, only read the word in books. I can be, yeah.

Well, I’m not sure I believe in them. That sorta seemed to end that discussion, because Amy got to eating, head down.

Georgia was the only guest, and Amy had tried to just serve her and leave, but that seemed silly, especially since she was a local, and Georgia could pick her brain. Georgia had insisted Amy sit with her and indulge in the amazing food.

So what local legends do you believe in?

Huh? Those blue eyes snapped back to hers, narrowing a bit. Why?

I’m an anthropologist. That means I’m nosy about customs and stories.

Nosy. Well, honey, I don’t know any, really. I mean, aside from the usual ghost dogs or dead hitchhikers.

Bummer. Uh-huh. And her name was Honey Darlin’. No one got that defensive over a ghost dog. Haley Falls had to have some great secrets.

How did you end up here, honey? Amy asked, still sort of staring her down.

Hmm? Georgia forked up a mouthful of pasta, giving her time to think of an answer. Oh, I’m writing a book on Southern waterfalls. Did you know that almost all of them have an Indian legend or some sort of tragic colonial story?

Well, sure they do. People fall over them all the time. That seemed to satisfy Amy, though, and she relaxed, starting to eat hearty again.

Really, this was the weirdest town. Though the immediate suspicion told Georgia that there really was something to be discovered, and she couldn’t wait to find out what that was.

So, who’s the new girl? Alton Caballo asked when he went to fill up his big pickup. Heard she stopped by here to get gas.

Everyone stops by here to get gas. Caid stared at him like he’d lost his mind, looking damned fine in a pair of old Levi’s and his uniform shirt. Too bad Caid wasn’t interested. Alton was. Hell, he’d been trying for years. Probably would have succeeded by now if he hadn’t left town all those years ago.

Well, what’s her deal?

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