Destiny Hart's dream of becoming a singer has come true. But with the exhilarating rush of success comes a price-and a battle to recapture the traditions that were her foundation. Reconnecting with what matters most, Destiny is putting an unexpected new spin on her career that wi;; redirect her life in ways she never imagined. Wynonna Judd came into prominence as part of the legendary mother-daughter duo, The Judds, selling more than twenty million records worldwide and winning more than sixty industry awards. Born in Ashland, Kentucky, Wynonna now lives in Nashville with her children, cats, dogs, buffalo, and deer. Restless Heart is her first novel. One Nashville, Tennessee "I have good news and bad news," Ralph Weston said. "Which do you want first?" Of all the ridiculous questions Destiny Hart had been asked since she moved to Nashville to try and make it in the country music business—and there were many—that had to be her least favorite. Leaning her guitar case against the dingy white wall in the employee break room, she pasted on a smile and turned to face her boss. "Go ahead—hit me with the bad news," she answered, just as his cell phone beeped. "Hang on a second." Ralph flipped open his phone. Waiting for him to check his text messages, Destiny held her breath, though she could pretty much guess what he was going to tell her. Shouldn't you be used to bad news by now? she asked herself wearily. Lately, it was one thing after another, capped off by— No. Don't even go there. Every time she thought about what Billy Jackson had done to her, she felt sick inside. Ralph looked up from his phone at last. "Listen, Destiny, Mandy called a few minutes ago. She's feeling better and she'll be able to perform, so we don't need you to sing tonight after all." Destiny deflated. "Oh… okay." Yep—she'd been right. Mandy Mason pulled this stunt all the time. Destiny longed to ask why Ralph why he put up with such unprofessional behavior, but she already knew the answer. All Mandy had to do was bat her big brown eyes and flip her blond hair, and she had Ralph—and countless other red-blooded men—eating right out of her hand. Watching Ralph sneak another peek at his text messages, wearing a goofy grin, Destiny couldn't resist saying, "So she's feeling much better, huh?" "Yeah, this text here says she's making the effort just for me." Destiny swallowed a groan. She'd done some crazy things in an effort to catch a break in this business, but flirting with her middle-aged boss was one horse she wasn't willing to ride. She cleared her throat loudly. "Sorry, Destiny." Ralph glanced up and had the decency to show a little bit of remorse. Maybe Destiny couldn't bring herself to flirt, but she had no problem pouncing on Ralph's guilt. "Well, since I came in, do you think I could sing a song or two? You know, to warm up the crowd for Mandy?" she added with a smile that felt more like a wince. "Mmm…" He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Last time we did that Mandy wasn't none too happy 'bout it." "Oh… really? I wonder why. As I recall, I really had the crowd rockin'. You know, for her benefit, of course." Ralph scratched his salt-and-pepper beard. "Mandy said you had the crowd too wound up for her style of singin'. Said you're too rough around the edges to open for her again." Trying not to choke on her anger, Destiny managed to say calmly, "Mr. Weston, it's Friday night in Nashville. Getting fired up is what it's all about." He didn't like being called Mr. Weston, but she'd been brought up to respect her elders. She just couldn't call her boss Ralph or, heaven forbid, Ralphie, as Mandy called him. "I know you like to get people up on the dance floor a-hootin' and a-hollerin' and that's all well and good, Destiny, but Mandy likes her performance to be all about the music and her voice. You might want to make note of that for future reference." And you might want to make a note that Mandy is playing you like a fiddle. Destiny dug deep for a smile. "I will do that. Now, what's the good news?" "The good news is we need you on the floor tonight, so your trip here wasn't for nothin'." He eyed her Western-cut fringed shirt. "You've got your uniform, I hope?" "In my locker," Destiny said glumly. While she needed the money—desperately, thanks to Billy Jackson—she wanted cash from the tip jar, not from waiting tables. "Good." Ralph absently checked his phone once more, then added, "Oh and, Destiny?" "Yes, sir?" "You might want to pull back that hair of yours." "Yes, sir." Destiny touched the light brown curls tumbling over her shoulders. "Now get your tail on out there." Ralph jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "We're packed." She started toward her locker, grumbling under her breath, "Well, isn't that just great." "Excuse me?" "I… uh…" She gave him a tight smile. "I said that I just can't wait." "Remember, Mandy likes sweet tea to wet her whistle while she sings. Make sure you keep