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| "I clung to my tablet...Kathryn Knight has mastered the art of paranormal romantic suspense, and it's a must-read!" ~ N.N. Light's Book Heaven, 5+ stars Chosen as Best Romantic Suspense |
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.
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.”
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