Links,blurb, and excerpts below - Happy Haunted Reading!
After tragedy strikes, Callie Sinclair is left with a gift she never wanted—the ability to communicate with ghosts. But when a desperate widow begs for her help, she reluctantly agrees to investigate the strange occurrences at Hillwood Farm. She quickly realizes she’s dealing with a dangerous presence beyond anything she’s ever experienced, and something else becomes equally clear—the only other living person in the house, Mrs. Turner’s handsome grandson, thinks she’s a scam artist. While she’d prefer to just ignore him, her heart beats a little faster every time he’s nearby.
Luke Turner doesn’t believe in spirits. He’s moved back to restore the family farm, but living on the property serves a dual purpose—he can watch out for his grandmother. He’s not happy about the sudden appearance of a self-described psychic, or his inexplicable attraction to her. His initial suspicions crumble as evidence points to an actual haunting, but he’s still determined not to fall for Callie—the past has taught him it’s best to avoid relationships.
As Callie is drawn deeper into the mystery, she becomes the target of a vengeful spirit, and Luke can no longer fight his feelings for her. Unable to resist their desire, passion ignites…even as the paranormal activity escalates to a final deadly confrontation.
--> The Haunting of Hillwood Farm on NetGalleyIf you're not a NetGalley member but would like to purchase a copy, you can find it on Amazon...and reviews there are very much appreciated!
--> The Haunting of Hillwood Farm on Amazon
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| "I clung to my tablet..." ~ N.N. Light's Book Heaven Reviews on The Haunting of Hillwood Farm (5+ stars, chosen as Best Romantic Suspense) |
Want a little excerpt or two? One peek at a scary scene, one peek at a sexy scene below!
With a sharp pop, the light went out, plunging the room into darkness. Callie stilled, her heartbeat filling her ears. Something rustled behind her, and the hairs on her bare arms prickled. She was suddenly very sure she was not alone. A soft moan floated through the blackness. Panic gripped her, fierce and primal, clawing at her lungs. Did she have a weapon? Would it even work against whatever was here?
She struggled for air, a rancid odor filling her nostrils as she slowly inhaled. Death. Decay. Shadows shifted to her left, and her gaze jerked toward the movement. Behind the solid mass of her reflection in the mirror, the gauzy outline of a face peered over her shoulder. Empty eye sockets stared out from gray, filmy features, the hollow black holes somehow filled with menace.
A sob gathered in her chest, clogging her throat. Please, God. Let me wake up from this nightmare. Something cold and wet brushed against her upper back, and she screamed.
* * *
When she turned around, Luke was standing in the doorway. Her pulse jumped. She’d forgotten to close the door. One of the hazards of living alone for so long.
The corner of his mouth slid up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
She let out a breathy laugh. “No worries. I’m just glad it’s you.”
His brows lifted. “Yeah? Were you expecting someone else?”
“Well, you never know in this house, right?” She shrugged, and the twist in her towel loosened. Clutching it to her chest, she managed a weak smile as she fumbled to secure it. She could feel the weight of his stare even as she bent her head to check the new knot, and warmth pooled in her belly. She glanced up, and their gazes locked. The air crackled as the moment stretched out, and she recognized something in the depths of his eyes. Hunger. Could he see the same thing reflected back in hers?
Her breath caught, and she took an involuntary step toward him, as if drawn by a magnetic force. Every nerve in her body tingled with desire.
His gaze raked over her, slow and deliberate. “Well, I just wanted to check in on you. To see if you need anything.”
She swallowed. “Do you?”
He cocked his head, his brows pulling together. “What?”
“Um. Need anything?”
He dragged a hand over his mouth, the muscles in his arm bunching with the movement. “That’s a dangerous question to ask when you’re standing there in a towel.”
