IN THE SPIRIT is now available in ebook. If anyone had asked me if I'd ever write a paranormal book, I'd have told them they were crazy. But those of you who know me know I can't pass up a challenge and I just had to see if I could pull it off. I ended up with a story that has a ghost, a mystery/suspense and not one, but two, romances--one in this life and one in the hereafter. It's also dedicated to my cat, Binky, who is a character--both in the book and in life.
(Don't you just love the cover art by Trisha FitzGerald?)
Here's the blurb and an excerpt to whet your appetite.
Blurb: Author Jessica Windsor is suffering a severe case of writer's block. Hoping a change of scenery will get the words flowing again, she retreats to a mountain cabin--where she soon discovers she is not alone. The ghost of mystery writer, Andrew McCabe, has unfinished business and enlists her help to solve his murder. Jessica soon finds herself on a madman's hit list.
Ben Gearing has been something of a recluse since he destroyed his marriage and lost his family. But there’s something about Jessica Windsor that makes him want to smile again, makes him feel more like his old self. Could he be ready to finally get on with his life?
Andrew hovered in the doorway while Jessica unpacked her bag. His interest piqued when she removed lingerie and carefully arranged it in one of the drawers. She set out bottles of lotions, cologne and makeup on the dressing table. God, he missed those intoxicating scents of women. The softness of their shoulders, the warmth…
She reminded him so much of Laura. He sighed.
Andrew pressed his lips together. Here goes. “Jessica,” he hissed.
“Binky?” She searched, but the cat was not in the room.
“Great. I’m hearing things.” She shoved the empty suitcase into the closet and started for the door.
Andrew remained in the doorway. “Jessica!”
But she kept moving, passing straight through him before he could step aside.
He gritted his teeth and shuddered. I hate when they do that.
He straightened his jacket.
Jessica stopped and rubbed her hands along her arms. She returned for the second suitcase and emptied it, hanging the contents in the closet. She removed a photograph from the inside pocket of the luggage—a picture of a teenaged boy with her eyes and mouth, but lighter hair.
Andrew peered over her shoulder. Good looking kid. He placed his mouth near her ear and spoke, “Jessica, can you hear me?”
She clutched the photo to her chest and whirled around. “What the…? Who said that? Is someone there?”