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Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts

Monday, 17 February 2020

New Release - To Be Yours: A Gateway Ranch story - by C.R. Moss @CRMoss #Paranormal #Erotic #RomanticSuspense

NEW RELEASE
To Be Yours 
a Gateway Ranch story 
by 
C.R. Moss



About the Series & Story

Nestled within the hills of central Texas is a special ranch. A place that defies the laws of physics—that of time, space, and dimensions. It’s a place where normal morphs with the paranormal and supernatural. A place that seems to know what a person’s true desires and needs are, and then allows the right circumstances to occur to fulfill those wishes.

Welcome to the Gateway Ranch. Your gateway to all things possible…


To Be Yours by C.R. Moss

Katrina Foster has survived a life no one dreams about and most don’t want to know about. Escaping to a ranch in Texas she used to visit during the summers of her childhood and rekindling an old relationship with Dakota Remington, she hopes to leave the nightmare of her past behind her. At first, all seems well, but when strange things begin to happen, she wonders if history’s about to repeat itself.

Dakota Remington has devoted his life to working at Gateway Ranch. He’s excited when Kat, his former sweetheart, returns and looks forward to reuniting with her. He finds she’s changed, though, and he’s not sure if it’s for the better. But he’s up for the challenge of the puzzle that is Kat.



Excerpt

The hard composite of her firearm shifted against her lower back.

Well, if push comes to shove, I can protect myself. I’ll shoot the bastard if he shows up and tries anything.

Eventually, her nerves calmed enough so she could move without feeling ill.

She rose and stripped out of her clothes, put her weapon on the counter, then stepped into the shower. The hard and hot spray beat on her, helping her to feel something other than worry about potential rumors or her ex finding her. Kat bowed her head, placed her hands above the faucets. The water sluiced down her hair, cascaded in wide streams over her back. More time passed. Relaxed and clear headed, she finished her shower and was about to open the door when a thud and click sounded on the other side.

Gripping the towel wrapped around her body, she snatched her weapon, opened the door, and cautiously looked out into the room.

Dakota lounged on the bed, one leg bent, his hat propped on that leg’s knee. His hair stuck up in clumpy spikes. He ran a dirty hand through his dark brown locks.

Kat released a pent-up breath, lowered her weapon, and placed the Glock on a counter next to the bathroom door. “How’d you get in here?”
Tired eyes gazed at her. “I’m manager on duty while the Taggerts are away, ’member? Got a bunch of master keys.” Dak held up the ring of them. “You okay? When you didn’t come back, I got worried.”

“I’m fine. I think the humidity got to me. Along with the dirt.”

“Sure. The humidity. You tell me that you’re afraid a man is going to come after you, or rather us. We hear about the vehicle. You turn white as one of our ghosts and run off. Who was in the car, Kat?”

“Hell if I know. I’ve been with you all day. I didn’t see the fancy black car or who was in it.”

“You don’t have a clue as to who was in the car? I’m not buying it.”

“Buy it or don’t.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “I really don’t know. It could have been Nero. It could have been his goons. It could have been a neighbor of yours or one of the party guests Kent mentioned. I. Wasn’t. There. I. Didn’t. See.”

Dakota flung himself off the bed and slammed the hat on his head. “Get dressed. You’ll come with me while I get cleaned up then we’ll go hang out in the rec hall.”

“You know what, Dak? I appreciate the Boy Scout approach, and how you’re trying to get a merit badge for babysitting, but all I want is to lie down and take a nap.”

“Kat, please. I’m hot, dirty, and tired. I don’t want to argue.” He strode to the door. “Get dressed so we can get going.” His gaze flashed darkly, roamed over her with an appraising glance. A slow grin tipped up the corner of his lips.

Buy Link(s)
Universal Buy Link for To Be Yours 
https://books2read.com/ToBeYours



Author Bio

An eccentric and eclectic writer, C.R. Moss pens stories for the mainstream and erotic romance markets, giving readers a choice of sweet, savory or spicy reads, usually within a sub-genre or two — paranormal, sci-fi/fantasy, time travel, or western flare. She also has a passion for penning dark fiction. Writing as Casey Moss, she delves into the darker aspects of life in her work, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the lighthearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore… www.caseymscorner.com

Author Links
Blog/Website – https://caseymscorner.com/

More Gateway Ranch books can be found at: https://threeflamespublishing.com/series/

Thursday, 31 October 2019

#ThrowbackThursday - The Halloween Edition - A snippet from Lost Time - #timetravel #paranormalromance

🎃 Happy Halloween! 🎃



Enjoy an excerpt from Lost Time, still one of my all time faves, even after all these years. This story was inspired by a friend of mine who went on a UK vacation and got lost in Wales. Two very sweet people came to her rescue. But that's about where the similarities end, from there on my filthy imagination took over and the delicious Lockhart Munro took form. Oh and what a form he has...

paranormal, time-travel, erotic, romance

[I've left another extract over on * Pick a Genre * if you'd like to read some more]

But first, here's the blurb:

Within this frame, his curse is time…


Hannah Keys thinks she's setting off on the trip of her dreams, but after one mishap after another—beginning with her best friend abandoning her in the airport and ending with the man of her dreams dead—she's renaming it the vacation from hell.

When Hannah Keys discovers a four-hundred-year-old portrait in Wales, she is intrigued and somewhat saddened by the handsome Highlander portrayed by the artist's masterful, lifelike strokes. But when she runs into the majorly hunky model for the painting—in the flesh, in the middle of the night—she learns first-hand all about masterful strokes when she shares a night of medieval passion with him.

Lockhart Munro has been cursed inside the portrait until he meets Hannah Keys. For four hundred years, no one has heard him or seen him, let alone touched him. The one woman who can do all these things may be the key to his long-awaited freedom.

But if Hannah sets Lockhart free from his prison, will she be cursed to spend the rest of her lifetime without him?

Or perhaps freeing Lockhart will be just the beginning…


Buy Link:



Excerpt From Lost Time

Hannah pulled on a pair of warm socks then hung her legs over the side of the bed. She worked her head from side to side, trying to relieve the knot in her neck that she believed to be the source of the headache. 

Hannah heard it again. 

A sigh. Her head snapped up, causing pain to burst from behind her eyes. When her vision cleared, she shrieked and scrambled up onto the bed. 

There was a man. At least, the portrait of a man. 


 “Ohh!” she breathed, as she stared at the full-length painting. The figure leaned casually on a sword. The huge frame dominated the whole wall. 


Hannah slowly climbed from the bed and approached cautiously, almost waiting for something else to jump out and spook the shit out of her. 


 “How on earth did I not see this?” she whispered, nearing the image. 


He was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. His features were perfectly masculine and artfully aristocratic. 


His eyes were dark and intense, but the artist had highlighted the inner iris with tiny white strokes, making it seem as if his eyes were lit from within. They sparkled with curiosity as though he were really seeing her. She looked into the dark orbs, holding her breath—transfixed, waiting, watching for them to shift or blink. But, of course, they remained still. She released the breath on a chuckle at her own silliness. What a marvelously talented artist to have made him look so lifelike. 


She continued to examine him, noting the thick, dark hair that reached almost to the collar of his crisp-looking white shirt. She wondered if the cut was considered overlong and indecent for that time period. She tried to discern what era he might have been from, but there was nothing in the painting that even hinted at the answer. Hannah almost wished he were real. She longed to run her fingers through his thick mane. Had the artist taken liberties, or could this man have been so flawlessly designed? 


 “You are gorgeous!” She reached out almost reverently, hesitantly touching his cheek. “How could I have missed you?”

She allowed her eyes to drift over the rest of him. His shoulders were wide. The painter had revealed only a small glimpse of what hinted to be a gloriously muscled chest through the V of the unlaced shirt. His waist was trim but Hannah imagined there lay an amazing six-pack under the loosely tucked garment. Her eyes drifted lower, over the dark pants that covered his thick thighs, down to the calf-high, shiny black boots. 


 Her focus slowly lifted back over his body, her eyes lingering on his crotch for an overlong moment as she imagined that part of him, too. She didn’t have to be an artisan to imagine in precise proportion to the rest of his size what a delightful handful he might be. She sighed. A girl could dream, couldn’t she? 


Hannah realized she was breathing rapidly. Her face was warm. Her breasts tingled. Her body was responding as it would if a real live man had captured her attention, although she couldn’t ever remember having a reaction like this without some kind of stimulation first. She almost wished the swirls of paint were not cool to her touch but warm and giving, like his skin might feel. 


She centered her gaze back on his amazing face, noting the high cheekbones and the strong jaw, noticing the slight cleft in his chin. She touched it, wishing that her finger could delve inside the little dent. “Oh, I like that.” She smiled in appreciation of the tiny little dimple that gave the very manly features a boyish little twist. 


Her attention swept to his mouth. He had full, sensual lips. “I bet you know how to kiss a girl, don’t you?” she asked them, wondering what it would be like to be kissed by those lips—to be kissed by a man like him at all. Would he take a woman over? Would he dominate her until she gave in? Not like he’d have to do much convincing. Or would he seduce a woman into submission with flowery words and a soft touch? It didn’t matter— either way, she’d be all over it. 


Hannah swallowed hard and licked her parched lips as she ran the pad of her index finger over his full lower lip, resisting the sudden, overwhelming urge to press her own lips to the cool canvas. Hannah’s body trembled. 


She gave herself a mental shake. It was the first time she’d ever been turned on by a painting. Putting distance between herself and it before looking back into his dark eyes, she gasped. They didn’t look as cold and intense as the first time that she’d looked into them. They were a warm chocolate brown.

“How can that be?” She exhaled, again looking to him for answers. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. She shook her head from side to side. They were back to their original cold, blank stare. Her mind was playing tricks on her. 


“Maybe I’m coming down with something?” She peeked up at him once more. “Why can’t I meet a man like you?” she asked him. “You know, if I did, I’d never go back home.” It was the truth. There was nothing to go back home to. Her mum was gone. Cass would soon marry that idiot Paul and things would change. Again. 


Hannah backed away from the portrait, switched off the bathroom light then slid into bed. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the painting. The flickering firelight gave the impression that he was alive, moving. 


All of a sudden, Hannah felt a moment of gripping grief, as if she mourned for the man in the painting. Her eyes filled as her chest tightened with pain. And just as fast as the feeling had come, it went, leaving her feeling nauseous and hot.



Buy Link:

Totally Bound
Amazon
Universal Link

Also Available in Print
Totally Bound
Amazon


🎃Have a Safe and Happy Halloween!🎃


Saturday, 19 October 2019

'Tis the season for all things spooky... Enjoy this intriguing teaser from The Fall of Cairnnon Castle


For the month of October find all of my eXtasy Books on Sale including fan fave mafia romantic suspense, The Always Cambridge Series; Editor's Choice, historical romance, The Devil Take You; AND the haunting Lustful Possession Saga. A perfectly haunting read that'll get you in the mood for all hallows' eve.

Though this collection of short stories is predominantly dark erotic paranormal—at times verging on horror—it runs the gamut in sub-genres and eras—from contemporary to historical time-travel, and back again. Please note: the series also incorporates both m/f and m/m couplings, plus some multi-partner interaction.

A seemingly harmless paranormal investigation sparks a series of haunting events that ultimately sends an international team of supernatural investigators to Ireland and to one of the most haunted destinations in all of Europe.


Travel Through Time and Unravel the Mystery of Cairnnon Castle 


Part 1 - Meet Me in the Dark
(m/f, paranormal, erotic, contemporary, ghosts, possession)

Crishtin Davenport thought she was attending a simple Halloween event—a good scare to get the blood pumping. Little does she know her actions that night would unleash an ancient evil.

Part 2 - Dark Foursome
(m/f, paranormal, erotic, contemporary, ghosts, possession)

A foursome takes on a whole new aspect when a fledgling couple, is hijacked by two randy spirits, who then use their corporeal bodies to recapture the sexual pleasures they enjoyed while inhabiting the physical world.

The saga takes a sudden medieval time-travel twist in Part 3 - The Fall of Cairnnon Castle (m/f, time-travel, Ireland, historical, paranormal, dark erotic, verging on horror)

Cairnnon Castle is one of the most haunted places on earth and home to one of the most evil entities ever documented. When an enthusiastic troop of paranormal investigators descends on the ancient stronghold, all hell breaks loose.

Meet the O'Cairnnon's - a fate most do not survive...


Part 4 - Rising From the Darkness
(m/m, paranormal, erotic, contemporary)

U.S. paranormal investigators return to Ireland to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the Fall of Castle Cairnnon. But what they find instead might set the paranormal community on it’s collective ear.

Part 5 - Dark Seed
(paranormal, erotic, contemporary, m/f story with m/m interaction)

The supernatural investigators' astounding discovery at Cairnnon Castle, can only be described as a miracle. 

Or perhaps one blessing, is just another curse.


Part 6 - Bending Darkness
(m/f, paranormal, erotic, time-travel, historical)

The Cairnnon curse threatens to turn one woman's dreams of happily-ever-after into a hellish nightmare.


And Part 7 - Dark Defeat - The stunning conclusion to the Lustful Possession saga
(paranormal, dark erotic, time-travel, historical, an m/f story with f/f and m/f/f interaction)

Hell-bent on saving her children, a mother will stop at nothing to defeat the evil that stalks her family, or at the very least, she’ll die trying.

Evil never gambled on battling one pissed off mother!


Please be aware: This erotic paranormal collection of short stories contains both mf & mm pairings, & cliff-hangers. Installments must be read in order.

Enjoy an erotic excerpt from Part 3 - The Fall of Cairnnon Castle 



Prologue

Cairnnon Castle, Ireland—The Present 

The earth underneath me quakes. The sky above me falls. It rains down on me. Pain explodes inside my head. My ribs break. I am crushed. 

A deafening rumble offends my ears. My body is tossed and crumpled, battered by debris. It goes on for an eternity. 

And then... 

Silence. Stillness. 

The pain is immense. Like nothing I’ve ever endured in my life. 

Oh, God! Please! I implore wordlessly. I cannot speak, scream, or moan. 

My eyes are closed. But beyond me, there’s brightness, so vivid I detect it through my closed eyelids. I try to open them, but none of my faculties are functioning. I am heavy. My lungs are burning. It hurts to even take shallow breaths. I concentrate on the unenviable task of simply inhaling in and out—an action I have obviously taken for granted all these years. The dust is choking me. I try not to cough. I will split apart if I do. My ribcage has already splintered with the weight upon me. 

A low hum begins. It is annoying, but as it goes on it becomes comforting, harmonious. 

As the fire in my chest subsides, I am lethargic, sleepy, and content. 

Stillness. 

I know what this is. It is elemental. Inevitable, from the moment we take our first breath. 

I wait for it... 

Death comes. 



I am in and out of consciousness. 

“Just come,” I whisper. Speaking is laborious, yet somehow it happens. “Just take me.” 

The incessant drone becomes vibration. 

I sense it, a presence. Above me. Surrounds me. Becomes me. 

The pain subsides by degrees. Warmth seeps into me. I sigh at the pleasure of it. I hadn’t realized I was so cold. 

Without words, it communicates with me. Death is one with me. 

You enjoy that.” 

“Yes. Thank you.” My gratitude is profound. 

You know what I am.” 

It is a statement. It is a part of me. It knows what I am thinking. 

I don’t need to articulate. “Yes.” 

You are not afraid.” 

“No, you comfort me.” 

For a moment I sense confusion, and I am bewildered by it. It is not my uncertainty. It is illogical. Death would not emote. But my thought is distracted. 

The lovely heat spreads, radiating through every part of my broken body. 

Ahhhh, that feels so good.” 

Everything in me tingles, from the top of my head right down to my feet. There is no pain. Not even my lungs hurt anymore. My inhalations become rapid instead of shallow. My blood rushes. I can hear it traveling through my veins. My pulse pounds in my head. My body throbs. My breasts tingle and my loins catch fire.

I squirm. My body tightens. The heaviness in my lower body is nothing but carnal. 

I am not even being touched, but I am being consumed and stimulated on every level. Mind, body and spirit. 

It fills me, inside and out. 

Unable to stop myself, I feel my hips list in that dance as old as time. I am going to come. 

“Onnhhh!” I am bombarded by one blissful, gutwrenching wave after another of exquisite, relentless pleasure. I want to weep at the intensity of it, but I am helpless. 

It has to stop, but I don’t want it to end. I thrash, uncontrollably experiencing an all-over body orgasm like nothing I’d ever experienced in life. Is this heaven? A powerful tug, deep inside, sends another round of sweet undulation through me. 

I cry out. 

What am I, Nevaeh?” Death demands. 

I pant with my last breaths. 

“You! 


“Are! 


“Allll!”


Chapter One

Neve Brádach opened her eyes. She was floating outside her body, above herself, looking down through the rubble and ruin that just hours ago had been Cairnnon Castle. Centuries-old stones and debris lay on top of her broken body, but somehow, she managed to see through the layers to her physical form below.

Unbelievably, sadness at her own horrific demise was not her first concern.

“Neve! Neve! We’re coming! Don’t give up! I’ll get you out!” It was Arnie Rollison’s frantic voice. The team-leader and her mentor. The man she’d longed to work with for years was now digging desperately with his bare hands. Unguarded tears ran down his dirty cheeks, leaving trails.

She felt sorry for him. He sounded so adamant, so determined. As if he still had hope.

There were tons and tons of wreckage. Even if she were still alive—and she wasn’t convinced that she was—they’d never reach her in time.

Neve laid a hand on his shoulder. “Arnie. Stop, my friend.”

His head twitched, as if he’d heard her, and his frenetic actions ceased for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Neve. I’m so sorry!”

Without warning, she was jerked back inside her body. The pain was dull, not sharp like it had been in the beginning.

Shit! I’m not dead. But I’m goin’ to die in here. I’ve seen the devastation above me. 

Death was going to be long and arduous. “Come back to me,” she called Death. “Please come and take me.” But as she lay fading in and out of consciousness and time ticked by, she wasn’t sure if she begged Death to claim her permanently or for it to take her again and again as it had earlier. She longed for the carnal bliss that Death could provide. Her body tingled at the memory as the blackness once again enveloped her.

* * * *
Much later, the heavy equipment continued to dig above her, but she drifted out once more.

The next time she woke, the weight had been lifted from her chest. She opened her eyes, and to her astonishment, she was able to move her arms and legs. She looked down at her limbs.

“What am I wearing?” She let her fingers run over the unfamiliar fabric. “Where am I?” She searched the strange room. She blinked rapidly, confused. Who am I?

Her mind was blank, devoid of all memory.

Noise, like that of a large crowd reached her ears. Gaining her feet, she followed the sound, out of the room and down a hallway.

It seemed like a party. Everyone was in costume. Lit torches in sconces lined the wall, giving the entire area a dreamlike quality.

From nowhere, someone grabbed her. “There ya are. Where have ya been?”

Neve looked up at the man who stared down at her with deep intensity. Unable to stop her reaction, she gasped. He was the most incredible looking man she’d ever laid eyes on. Chiseled, rugged features. Striking, dark eyes. Strong chin. Tall. Muscular. He wore a crisp-looking white linen shirt, baggy trousers, and a blue and green checked sash.

He smiled, obviously sensing her attraction to him.

“Watch that smoulderin’ gaze, my sweet Nevaeh, or I will throw ya over my shoulder, with or without the vows, and take ya to my chambers and ravish ya until ya canna walk.”

Sounds good to me.

“Come. This is our celebration. Let us dance. I want nuthin’ more than to feel ya in my arms.”

He twirled her around and escorted her out onto the ballroom floor.


© H K Carlton


For more from the Lustful Possession Series hop on over to Pick a Genre for a haunting teaser from Part 4 - Rising from the Darkness, or over at Breaking Genre, sample an extract from Book 2, Dark Foursome.

eXadhallow

Find The Lustful Possession Series On Sale through October 31st at eXtasy Books and Check out my author page for more savings!

Variety is creativity's playground — it's where you'll find me

Saturday, 27 October 2018

Halloween Sale! Enjoy a snippet from - Autumn's Healing - A spooky and heart wrenching read - on Sale now

Happy Halloween


Autumn's Healing

Rarely do we get to pick our battles… Often, they choose us.
 

Single mom Mikaylah MacDonough and her only daughter Autumn have been on their own a long time. So, when Autumn goes off to school, it seems only natural for Kaylah to pull up stakes and follow, though with some clear-cut boundaries, of course. She’s determined to give Autumn space to enjoy the whole college experience but remain close enough for emergencies, meals and laundry. But when the closing date of the current house overlaps with taking possession of the ‘new’ house, along with orientation week, Autumn has to go it alone. From that moment on, Kaylah’s dreams of a new beginning turn into a complete and total nightmare.

When former serviceman Jerusalem Aames drives up to the century-old Cleary house, he sees dollar signs for himself and his all-veteran crew. The rundown, old place would finally put his fledgling construction-renovation firm in the black. But the moment he meets the gorgeous homeowner who had been duped into buying the money-pit, his attraction is swift and instantaneous.

However, there’s something very strange going on in the dilapidated house that has nothing to do with rotting timbers or shoddy wiring. Whatever it is, it’s affecting Kaylah’s state of mind, and Salem finds himself in a battle he's not sure he can win.


Autumn's Healing 30% off at Totally Bound - On Sale thru November 1st




Excerpt From Autumn's Healing

Chapter On

Kaylah closed her eyes and shampooed her hair. The hot spray from the shower stung her skin, but she didn’t care.

Her mind went back to the day Autumn and her friend Emily had set off for college.

“Best laid plans…” she mumbled in the mist.

It had started out as a bright, beautiful, sunny day, perfect for new beginnings. 

In the driveway, Kaylah tried not to wring her hands.

“Stop looking like that,” Autumn warned. 

“I should be taking you, though,” Kaylah repeated under her breath, as she Tetris-ed another box into the hatchback. It’d been an ongoing discussion since the girls had come up with the idea of driving alone. 

Autumn slammed the trunk of the overstuffed compact car. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and all the other aggravation of the last few weeks fell away.  

“We won’t be in the same city for a while.” Autumn frowned and draped her arms around Kaylah. “It’s gonna be weird. We’ve never really been away from each other for more than a night or two.” 

“It won’t be long,” Kaylah reassured. “I’ll get things settled here and I’ll join you in about a week’s time—if all goes well, that is. Keep your fingers crossed. But I really wish I was taking you now.” 

“But this is kind of appropriate, too. I’m supposed to drive off into the sunset, while you wave profusely from the driveway. This is the way it’s supposed to be—the child leaving the nest and all that. And next weekend when you collect the keys and take possession of the new house, I’ll probably crash with you because I’ll have missed you so much.” 

“Me, too,” Emily chimed in, joining the hug.  

Kaylah nodded. The closing dates on the old house and the new place were about a week apart and coincided with Autumn’s orientation week. 

“Bye, Mrs. MacDonough.”  

Kaylah hugged Emily, as well. “Take care, Em.” 

“You, too. We’ll see you next week.” 

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

Autumn squeezed her one last time. “I love you, Mom. Thank you for everything.” She sniffled. 
   
“You promised. No tears until we can’t see each other anymore.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just harder than I thought.” Autumn let her go then took one last look at the house. 

“First step to the rest of your life.” Kaylah wiped her daughter’s rosy cheeks. “I’m so proud to be your mama. I love you, baby.” 

“I love you. And I’ll see you—” 

“Next week.” Kaylah managed a smile as she finished the sentence. 

The girls got into the car and Kaylah waved profusely as they pulled away—just as Autumn had predicted—before she gave way to tears. 

Kaylah rinsed the suds from her hair as the old pipes started to knock inside the walls. From experience, she knew the water would turn cold within seconds.  

Turning off the taps before that happened, she then grabbed a towel from the rack and wound the terrycloth around her shoulder-length hair. She yanked another towel from the shelf and dried off.  

The entire bathroom was filled with steam. Obviously, it needed a new fan and some better ventilation. Another addition to the ever-growing list of upgrades this ‘new’ house needed. What a nightmare the entire undertaking had turned into. Even the contractors she’d interviewed had shied away from the massive workload the turn-of-the-century home presented. It required updating on every level, not to mention the work it needed on the outside.  

The home had been grossly misrepresented, but Kaylah blamed herself. She and Autumn had found and bought it, sight unseen, over the Internet. It had been so beautiful—or so they’d thought.  

She’d gone so far as to contact a lawyer, hoping he could give her a rundown of her options. But, as of this morning, he still had not returned her call.  

Nothing was going right. Nothing had since Autumn had left for school. 

Kaylah stepped out of the shower and looked toward the vanity mirror. It was frosted with condensation, but that’s not what caught her eye. She pulled the towel tightly around her body as her gaze darted around the tiny room. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and a shiver ran through her body. Her heart began to pound. It looked as if someone—or something—had written a message in the film on the glass. 
   
Jerusalem.  

The word had started to run, streaking the letters down the glass, dripping off the edge and into the sink below.  

That name. She’d been seeing it everywhere recently—on newspapers, street signs, on the side of transport trucks, when she flicked on the TV. She’d even driven through a town near Geneva, New York, named Jerusalem on her way here. Now this.  

Irrational anger flooded her. “What are you trying to tell me?” she screamed.  

She picked up the closest thing—her handheld hairdryer—and threw it at the mirror. The glass blew out and shattered all over the sink and the bathroom floor—one more thing to add to the repair list. 

Kaylah hurried to her bedroom. She dressed quickly then left the house.  

* * * * 

Kaylah stood on the bridge, looking down over the water in the park. It was so peaceful here, but the craziest thoughts raced through her head. Ever since Autumn had moved and Kaylah had taken possession of the new house, her thinking had been muddled, unpredictable. She didn’t feel like herself at all—one minute angry as hell for no logical reason, the next crying uncontrollably. Like now, looking down at the water from the great height on the walkway, she had the most overwhelming urge to jump—to end it all.  

It would take away the crushing pain in her chest.  

She pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and quick-dialed Autumn. 

“You’ve reached Autumn. You know what to do. Beep.” There was a little giggle, then the digital sound followed.  

Unbidden tears filled her eyes at the sound of her daughter’s voice.  

The water beckoned.  

Jerusalem, the wind seemed to whisper.  

Kaylah jerked at the sound and looked across the bay. Her gaze collided with another sightseer. He didn’t scare her, but he watched her intently. She stared right back.  

Jerusalem.” The stranger’s mouth seemed to form the word, but Kaylah’s mind rebelled. There was no possible way she’d have really heard that. 
      
“Ma’am. Ma’am? Are you all right?” 

At the sound of the voice from behind, she realized she’d stepped up to the wrought-iron railing, her hands poised as if to pull herself up. And what? Over? Dear God! She jumped down.  

Swiftly, she wiped her cheeks and stuffed her cell back into her pocket. She didn’t even turn or wait to see if the passerby had been addressing her. She fled the scene. 

As she walked briskly by the downtown shops, she began to feel more in control and aware of her surroundings. A shop window with huge steaming cup and saucer painted on the inside pane beckoned.  

“Don’t mind if I do,” Kaylah mumbled under her breath as she tugged open the door to the inviting establishment.  

Once she was seated at the little restaurant with a hot cup of coffee, Kaylah looked around but didn’t really take note of any of the other patrons.  

She took a deep breath, inhaling through the pain in her chest. Absently, she rubbed it. She’d experienced this before, prior to her diagnosis. Was the cancer back? Had she already diagnosed herself? And, in so doing, could this explain the mood swings? The unexplained sorrow and irrational anger? The symptoms all went hand in hand when dealing with any illness, along with the self-pity and why-me syndrome. 

“Can I get you a refill?” the waitress asked cheerfully with the coffee pot poised over her cup.  

“Please. Thank you.” 

“Are you just passing through?” 

“No, we’re new to the area. I purchased the Cleary property.” By mistake, she added, silently.  

“That’s a beautiful old place,” the server replied, her eyes lighting with interest. “Needs some major TLC, though.” 

“You’re telling me. I’ve been shopping around for contractors.” 

“Where are you coming from?” 

“Out West,” she answered vaguely.  

“Jenna! Customer at booth two,” the rotund and harassed-looking cook in a stained yellowed apron hollered across the dining area. 
     
“Sorry. Gotta go. This one’s on the house. Nice meeting you. I hope you’ll be back.” She smiled. 

“I will. Thank you.” Kaylah cracked open a creamer and poured it into her cup.  

Her cell phone vibrated. She dug through her purse, frantic to get to it. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Mama.” 

Closing her eyes, Kaylah savored the sweet sound of her eighteen-year-old daughter’s voice. These days, nothing seemed to set her back on an even keel better than Autumn.  

“Hey, baby, how are you?” she said, upon opening her eyes. 

As she stared out of the window, a small blonde girl charged along the sidewalk. Kaylah watched her and grinned as she skipped along, her pigtails bouncing. She remembered when her little girl was that age, curious and full of energy and endless questions.

‘Who’s that man, Mommy? Why do dogs lift their leg when they pee, Mommy? Why do I call you Mommy but my friend Bonnie calls one of her mommies ‘Mommy’ and the other one ‘Pam’?’  

It seemed like yesterday.  

“I’m okay,” Autumn replied. “I miss you, though.” 

More tears sprang to her eyes. “I wish you could meet me.” 

“Mom…we talked about this.” Another awkward silence stretched between them.  

“How are classes, baby?” 

“Good. I love lecture hall. Everyone else falls asleep, but I find it the most informative part of the week. I’ve learned so much about how things work here, and the teacher is an absolute angel.” 

“That’s good.” 

“I have this big assignment due in about a week, so I’m going to shut out all my new friends and funnel all of my energies into it.” 

“There’s a good girl. Make your mama proud.” 

“I will.” 

“You always do.” 

“Thanks, Mom. How’s the new house?” 

“It’s too quiet.” Kaylah picked at a paper napkin. 
      
“You’ll get used to it.” 

“I know. I haven’t got a choice.” 

“Have you met any people? Neighbors?” 

Still spellbound by the little person flouncing about, Kaylah watched as she and the adult accompanying her entered the café through the glass door, making the bell ring. 

“Why is that bell there?” the little girl asked. 

The question made Kaylah chuckle. 

“To let the servers know a new customer has entered,” the man with her answered. 

“Well, that’s just silly. They don’t need a bell for that when they have eyes.” 

Her handler hesitated, then he nodded his dark head at her logic. 

Kaylah paused at the mere sight of him. Very handsome.  

“Yes, I’m meeting people.” Kaylah turned her attention back to the conversation.  

“Good. I’m glad. Meet any men-type people?” 

“Autumn…” she cautioned, which prompted a giggle. 

Kaylah’s attention strayed back to the new customers.  

“What do you want to eat, Lindsay?” As she’d expected, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome’s voice was deep. 

“I’m having trouble hearing you,” Autumn said. “You sound very far away. I’ll let you go for now.” 

“Oh, no, don’t. You don’t have to do that. I can run outside.” Kaylah felt the familiar disappointment. Would this separation ever become any easier? Autumn’s calls were what kept her sane.

“I’ll call you later…to say goodnight. All right?” 

“Okay. Talk to you then. I love you, Autumn.” 

“I love you, too, Mama.” 

Kaylah ended the call, but her attention was riveted on the other customers.

“What do you want, Lindsay?” The man prompted the girl again. Kaylah studied his back. He was solid, muscular and had incredibly broad shoulders.  

“Umm, fries and a Coke.” 

“Fries and milk,” he corrected. 

“French fries and chocolate milk,” she countered.  

“Deal. Go hop up at our table.” 

The girl turned and eyed Kaylah. 

She swung around and tugged his back pocket, directing Kaylah’s focus to the snug denim.  

“Uncle Salem, there’s someone at our table.”

Salem

“Then pick another,” he said while retrieving his wallet. 

“No, that’s our table,” she pouted, scowling at Kaylah. 

Kaylah made eye contact with the girl. With an exaggerated facial expression, she pointed at the table. “Is this your table?” she asked. 

The child nodded but wrapped her arm around her uncle’s leg.  

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll move so you and your uncle can have your spot. Would you like that?” 

With her lip still jutting, the girl simply stared at her.

“You don’t have to do that,” the distracted man said, after paying for their snacks. He shoved his billfold back into his jeans and turned fully in her direction.  

Whoa

He approached the table, walking with a bit of a limp.  

“No, I don’t mind. I was leaving anyway,” she said, shuffling out from between the table and the banquet seat. As she straightened to her full height, she gazed up him.  

The little girl scooted onto the bench.  

He was a good-looking man in a rugged sort of way. A sexy layer of stubble coated his strong chin as if he hadn’t shaved that morning. He assessed her with shrewd hazel eyes as he yanked a worn ball cap from his head. A thick swatch of dark hair tumbled over his forehead, which he was quick to slick down. Yet, in contrast, the sides and the back were shaved close. No doubt Autumn would call it a ‘righteous flow’. 

“Please, don’t let us rush you,” he said, as he shrugged out of his plaid jacket. The cut of his black T-shirt fit snug to his sculpted biceps. “She needs to learn the world doesn’t stop for her. Her mom spoils her rotten as it is.” 

“Chocolate milk?” Kaylah called him out on how he’d caved to Lindsay’s wishes.  
       
Passing his hand over the back of his neck, he looked down at the floor then grinned. He had nice teeth and full lips. “Yeah, well, I’m her uncle. I’m allowed. Besides, we negotiated, right, Lindsay? That’s different.” 

“I’d rather have the pop,” she replied, dragging a napkin over the tabletop and now standing on the seat.  

“Aw, is that how it works?” Kaylah responded.  

“Hey, why don’t you join us? I see you’ve still got a full cup there.” 

“No, I’ve got to go, but thank you. Nice meeting you…both.” 

To her surprise, he stuck out his hand. She hesitated, staring at it stupidly before tucking hers in his. His palm was warm, his grip strong. A jolt of sensation shot up her arm.  

“Jerusalem Aames,” he introduced himself.  

Kaylah’s stomach clenched. Her vision tunneled. “Jerusalem?” she echoed in a whisper, peering into his eyes.  

Her head swam as the message on the bathroom mirror shimmered in her mind. 

Jerusalem,” she said again.

©Copyright H K Carlton 2017

REVIEWS:

5 Stars from Reviewer: Alberta  Manic Readers

By the time we find out the true story, Kay & Salem are deeply in love, but she has demons that Salem isn’t sure he can vanquish. I can’t say anything more about the story, without giving it away, so suffice it to say, it’s tender, loving, & totally worth the occasional tear it will evoke. Get it right away, & look for more by this author.
Read the full review HERE

From Amazon 5 more stars!
☆☆☆☆☆
WOW! What a heartwarming, beautiful tale of two people struggling through the pain of unexpected disasters. I promise you that you will cheer for Kaylah & Salem to come together, their characters being so finely drawn by the author. Long past reading this page turner you will remember them. And wish them well. Not to mention the story is spicy hot with sexy, powerful scenes set against an intriguing backdrop. Throw in an unexpected plot twist that makes perfect sense in hindsight, one that you’ll never see coming or at least I didn’t, and you have the real deal. I look forward, with pleasure, to reading more books by this fine author.


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