Thursday, July 24, 2014

Free Book Blitz Temptation Road by Kimball Lee



Q) Please share a little about yourself, your genres, any other pen names you use.

My name is Kimball Lee and I am a self-published author of Temptation Road and Surrendering Charlotte Chronicles. I write all genres of romance from paranormal to contemporary to sci-fi. I have been actively self-publishing for about a year and I absolutely love the freedom it allows me with my writing. I write about 15 hours per day but I love to take time off to travel and visit all of my favorite people and places. Writing is my passion, and I am so thankful to be exactly where I am at today!

Q) Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming release.

My latest release is Legal Legacy, the 10th book of Surrendering Charlotte Chronicles. Temptation Road 4 is in the works but it is taking me longer to write than most books because I don’t want it to be just another paranormal romance, the characters are much more fleshed out and the story has a lot of historical significance. I am also working on a new series called Love Deluxe that I am very excited about. 

Q) Have you ever based your book or characters on actual events or people from your own life?

Yes, I always incorporate personality facets from people in my life. I find all the myriad personality facets of human beings fascinating, both positive and negative traits.

Q) Is there a tfheme or message in your work that you would like readers to connect to?

Yes. That life offers second chances. And sometimes they can be more fulfilling than the first.
Q) What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

That I had never actually read a romance novel before I wrote one. My mother encouraged me to write a sexy little romance story while I was querying publishers for a novel I have still yet to publish. When I decided to self-publish the story, it was hit and a romance writer was born!

Q) When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

Well, my guilty pleasures are travel, ranging from Paris to Disney World to Las Vegas, but in my spare time I love to collect antiques and restore historic houses. My current hobbies were actually my job before I became a full-time writer.

Q) What is in your to read pile?

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt which won the Pulitzer Prize and Outlander by Diana Gabeldon, which my mother recommended.

Temptation Road
Book 1
Kimball Lee

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Green Pastures Ink

ISBN: 9781301172214
ASIN: B00F70LNO0

Number of pages: 50
Word Count: 18,500

Book Description:

What if you had to choose between a life of fame and luxury or finding your truest love while restoring a house overflowing with magic and enchantment in the Blue Ridge Mountains?

Reagan Hart is the DeLuca Girl, hers is the world famous face of a generation. Her husband has directed five of the highest grossing movies of all time, and her ex is a hunky detective who can't get her out of his heart. She has all that glitters, but it isn't at all what she bargained for. Beguiled by the story of a mystical old house in the Blue Ridge Mountains, she walks out on her past and into her future.

In the village of Seven Devils, North Carolina she is drawn to and enchanted by The Mary's House and comes face to face and heart to heart with breathtakingly handsome and reclusive Fletcher Green. Fletcher steals Reagan's heart in an instant but there are secrets to be told and he hasn't uttered a single word in twenty years. Only his brother Teddy has discovered the mysterious truth that sets Fletcher apart from all others.

The two brothers will rebuild The Mary's House for Reagan and along with a town full of eccentric's she just might find her place among the charms and bits of magic, both good and evil. Fate, destiny, passion and a touch of the divine will change her forever as she becomes a part of all that exists on Temptation Road.

Get Your Free Copy - Amazon   BN   iTunes  Kobo


Temptation Road
The New and Last Mary
Chapter 1
The house on the bend of Temptation Road came to be Reagan’s quite by chance, or by destiny, perhaps. If she hadn’t overheard a location scout telling her soon to be ex-husband about the Victorian confection he just couldn’t get out of his head, she might not ever have known about Seven Devils, North Carolina. But the young man was captivated by the rambling, crumbling, curly-cued good witch’s house, and he felt that it had to be immortalized on film. She was at a wrap party for Carlo, the brilliant director’s latest movie, another block-buster without a doubt. Carlo was her husband, and he wasn’t listening at all, he simply peered over the young man’s head. His gaze lingered on his soon-to-be-next-wife lounging poolside, wearing nothing more than a body-paint bikini and a desperate look. But Reagan stepped up and listened to the story of the Mary’s house and packed her Louis Vuitton luggage that very night. She introduced herself to the location scout and asked about the house and the town with the frightful name.
“Oh, not frightful at all!” he gushed, “entrancing, captivating!”
That was all she needed to hear, she set out to find that ruin of a house as she left her ruin of a marriage without shedding a single tear. She boarded a flight at LAX and flew across the country, toward anything auspicious.
When she landed in Knoxville it seemed she’d only just boarded the plane. Had she slept or even blinked in so short a time? Maybe she’d entered a time warp or traveled through a wormhole, it seemed she’d dreamed she was flying and suddenly she had arrived. Such happenings would become commonplace once she inhabited the Mary’s house, things that were beguiling and whispered of love and magic and enchantment. But all of that was yet to come.
She called her mother and then her best friend, Alana, from the Crowne Plaza, it wasn’t the type of hotel she preferred, but it was the best the city had to offer. She told them she was flushing her cell phone down the toilet along with the last ten years of her life and she’d let them know her new number as soon as she had one. She said she could no longer stand the sight of Carlo, or to be loved by Sean, and that she didn’t want to be admired by the world. She was disappearing into the mountains, to a different life, to something that was still hidden from her but she was certain it would make itself known. She didn’t flush the phone, she just let it swim for a while in the pristine white potty, then fished it out and crushed it beneath the heel of her Hermes boot.
Both her mother and Alana were concerned over her abrupt flight from Los Angeles, but they were glad she’d left Carlo. Reagan assured them she could feel happiness and meaning beginning to grow and take shape in her soul by the minute, so they were glad for her, in spite of their concern.
She bought a pearl white Yukon SUV the next morning and paid for it with her titanium American Express card, then she drove into the Blue Ridge Mountains. She wound up and around and into banks of fog that threatened to engulf the SUV and her along with it, she was, it seemed, vanishing into oblivion. The road was so narrow in some places and the visibility so poor, that she wondered what on earth had possessed her to run away. Why had she wandered into this remote part of the world, what had drawn her so urgently? Several times she nearly slipped off the edge of the road, the car’s tires spinning and sending small rocks tumbling down the mountainside.
When she came to a scenic overlook and pulled over, she stared ahead at the most beautiful cloud-shrouded mountain vista she could ever have hoped for. She started to get out then noticed a large black bear rustling through a trash bin, it looked her way and made a mewling cry. She locked the doors as if the creature might dare to climb in with her, she began to shake violently with fear of wild things and her future, as she inched along the perilous road. She pulled into the first motel whose sign caught her headlights and rested her cheek against the steering wheel before going into the office. At the front desk she asked how far she was from Seven Devils and if there had been any incidence of bears wandering the motel property.
Housekeeping woke her early in the morning, banging on the cheap metal door. She peeked out and told the maid to give her half an hour. When she stepped into the world outside, it was dazzling sunlight with an electric blue sky and a hundred shades of green and pine trees that pierced the roving clouds then reached to heaven and beyond. The mountain world was sharply green, not only as a color but as an all-encompassing smell. It inundated the senses, a saturated aroma of pine bark and sap and needles and fallen cones, sprightly and scintillating. It spoke to something locked inside her, something as old as the beginning of the very particles she was made of. Whispering its secrets softly, beckoning and calling wordlessly, “rest in me, here is where we all began, come into me and exist.”


About the Author:

Kimball Lee had break out success with Surrendering Charlotte Chronicles in the 2013 and hasn’t looked back. The topics of her novels and novella-series will vary, but her style of writing remains the same. Kimball doesn’t write 700 page books padded with useless words that take three pages to describe a doorknob. She does write funny, interesting, happy, sad, romantic, often titillating, and always thought provoking books that pack a lot good reading into just the right number of pages. Lee’s first novella, Legal Action, changed her life over night with more than 200,000 downloads in the first 90 days of publication. Kimball writes twelve to fifteen hours a day and she loves ALMOST every minute of it! Kimball Lee is represented by Joyce Holland at D4EO Literary Agency. Connect with Kimball via her social media networks, she actively engages her readers and shares some really great content!










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Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Spotlight and Giveaway Borrowed Promises by Judith Ingram




Borrowed Promises
Moonseed Trilogy
Book 2
Judith Ingram

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: Vinspire Publishing, LLC

Date of Publication: May 31, 2014

ISBN: 978-0-9890632-4-1
ASIN: B00JD0H2ZE

Number of pages: 249 pages
Word Count: 73,300 (approx.)

Cover Artist: Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

Book Description:

On the night of the new spring moon, a near-fatal accident propelled Victoria Reeves-Ashton over a century back in time to awaken in the body of Katherine Kamarov.

Now, after three months of pretending to be Katherine and laboring to repair relationships damaged by Katherine's brash and selfish personality, quiet and gentle Victoria finds that her heart is putting down roots in Katherine's world, in her family relationships, and especially in a deepening friendship with Katherine's winsome cousin Michael.

Hidden letters reveal the story of other moonseed-time travelers like herself-and Victoria realizes that she and Katherine will likely be returned to their own times the following spring. Tension mounts when a rich and handsome suitor applies to marry her, and Victoria must choose whether to accept him for Katherine's sake or to follow her own heart.

Ryan Ashton, the husband Victoria left behind, is baffled by the woman his wife has suddenly become. Unwilling to believe her story about an exchange in time, Ryan struggles to understand the stark transformation of his timid, remote wife into a sexually aggressive and captivating siren. Against his better judgment, he falls hard for this new woman who is a perplexing mixture of cruelty, sensuality, and tenderness, a woman who he suspects has the power to either break his heart or heal the aching loneliness he has lived with all his life.


Excerpt:

I bit my lip, wanting to avoid any subject that could ruin the easy camaraderie of our afternoons together. Michael had been friendly and funny, teasing me gently, treating me with the easy affection of an older brother. Once or twice I'd caught him watching me with a fierce intentness that made my heart skip. But then he'd grin or offer a quip that made us both laugh, and the uncomfortable moment would pass.
I enjoyed the lightness of our friendship, grateful for the reprieve. In the rose garden at Summerwood and later on the trip to San Francisco, I had felt the slow but persistent budding of a new feeling that both thrilled and frightened me. The lightest touch of Michael's hand pricked up hairs along my skin like electricity; his boyish grin twisted a slow, sweet pain deep into my body. His clean, male scent in close proximity could stun me with unexpected waves of need, often forcing me to look away so he wouldn't see the flame in my eyes.
I couldn't allow Michael to guess where my heart was taking me—because of Raymond.
Although many things were unclear to me, one fact seemed certain—Katherine must marry Raymond Delacroix and have at least one child with him. If I gave in to my new feelings for Michael, and if I were cruel enough to let him see them, then I risked both hurting him and ruining Katherine's chances with Raymond when she came back to her own time.
And Katherine would come back. I was convinced of it, all my desperate wishes to the contrary. She would marry Raymond, give birth to Elise, and secure a future that would eventually lead to her daughter painting a picture of Katherine and me at the bridge over Two Trees Creek. By the same token, I would return to life as a lingerie model and a cold marriage with Ryan Ashton. Ryan.
"What?" Michael's voice made me jump and turn my head.
"What?"
"You said 'Ryan' again."
"I did?"
Michael had removed his glasses, and he blinked at me from only a foot away. God, he has beautiful eyes, I thought. Soft gray-green depths that held me breathless, fighting a slow, aching pull to be in his arms.
"He's…nobody," I said.
Michael was studying me, his eyes so solemn and searching that I couldn't look away. He didn't speak, but in that moment my heart yearned toward him, and he saw it. His expression changed. His gaze moved slowly from my eyes to my mouth.
I turned my face away and shut my eyes over a sudden sting of tears.
"Kat?" he said softly.
His voice held a new, cautious note of intimacy. A moment later his thumb brushed my wet cheek, and the tenderness of his touch wrenched a low cry from me. I pushed his hand away and struggled to sit upright.
"Don't touch me!" Pain made my voice sharp. "You can't touch me, Michael!"
But his hand was already under my elbow, helping me to sit. He pushed a handkerchief into my hand.
"Here. Take it." He sounded bewildered and hurt. "Seems you'd rather do the job yourself."
He watched me wipe my eyes and blow my nose with his handkerchief. I couldn't look at him, and after a moment he reached for his glasses and slipped them on.
In a tight voice he asked, "Do you still want to visit Union Square?"
I pressed the soggy handkerchief to my lips and nodded.
Michael pushed himself to his feet and thrust out a hand to help me up. We folded the blanket between us, careful not to touch each other's fingers, and he picked up the hamper. As we crossed the grass in uneasy silence, a fresh roll of tears made me reach into my handbag for a clean handkerchief. A flash of copper tumbled into the grass.
I stopped quickly, but Michael was quicker. He scooped up the coin, examined it briefly, and gave it back to me.
"You still carrying that thing around?"
I looked up at him, my handkerchief arrested halfway to my face. "My coin? What do you know about my coin?"
He squinted at me and frowned. "You're kidding, right? I was with you when you paid a nickel for that worthless thing at the county fair. You said it was good luck, and you carried it around in your pocket for years." He stopped at my look. "What is it?"
"Michael, are you certain this is the same coin?"
I handed it back to him. His gaze lingered on my face, puzzled, before he examined the coin. He weighed it briefly on his palm, flipped it over, and gave it back to me.
"Of course I'm certain." He pointed his finger at the familiar nick in the rim. "There's where the wagon wheel ran over it, and you were so furious because you thought the magic was ruined." He screwed up his eyes against the sun and studied me. "What's the matter with you, Kat? You're looking at me like I've got two heads."

I shook my head in dazed wonder, suspended once again in that universe where Katherine's world and mine overlapped and where it made perfect sense that her lucky coin should have somehow come to me—twice.

About the Author:

Judith Ingram weaves together her love of romance and her training as a counselor to create stories and characters for her novels. She also writes Christian nonfiction books and enjoys speaking to groups on a variety of inspirational topics. She lives with her husband in the San Francisco East Bay and makes frequent trips to California's beautiful Sonoma County, where most of her fiction characters reside. She confesses a love for chocolate, cheesecake, romantic suspense novels, and all things feline.

Website, blog & free weekly devotional: http://JudithIngram.com





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Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Guest Blog and Giveaway with Peiri Ann



Music Playlist (Book Soundtrack)

So in Burdened you get two paranormal romances. The Nathan and Tracey romance where you are offered the choice to be with a burdened Sephlem. And the Glen and Scott romance where we experience the inconveniences of what happens when you are not offered the choice.
Here is the playlist for both. These are song I heard during and after writing the book that reminded me of the characters and their situations. As well as Burdened’s theme.

Burdened Playlist.

Demons – Imagine Dragons
Almost Is Never Enough – Ariana Grande & Nathan Sykes
The Last Song – Rihanna
Kill and Run – Sia
Reload – Sebastian Ingrosso
I Choose You – Sara Bareilles
Red Light – Tiesto
Latch – Disclosure Feat Sam Smith
Permanent – David Cook
Magic – Cold Play
Come A Little Closer – Cage the Elephant
Ten Feet Tall – Afrojack & Wrabel
Heaven – Beyonce
Find You – Zedd
Kiss Me – Ed Sherran
Safe and Sound – Capital City

Glen and Scott Bonus Tracks.

Say Something – A Great Big World
Just A Fool – Christina Aguilera Feat Black Shelton
Breath Me – Sia
Down – Jason Walker
A Drop in the Ocean – Ron Pope
When a Heart Breaks – Ben Rector
Never Say Never – Fray
I’ve Told You Now – Sam Smith

Burdened
A Burdened Novel
Book 1
Peiri Ann

Genre: Paranormal Romance

ISBN: 9780991381104
ASIN: B00JYOLZA2

Number of pages: ebook (381)
Number of pages: paperback (423)
Word Count: 142K

Book Description:

Tracey Warren has everything an eighteen year old girl should. She lives a life of expectancies; go to school, please her parents, party with friends, and revel in life as a young adult.

That is until she experiences an unexpected life changing accident caused by Nathan Newcomb; an illegally attractive yet perplexed guy who has her fumbling over her words and cracking her head on the concrete. In being enthralled by his overwhelming existence, Tracey neglects his promise of death (which never falls short of Nathan) and in ignoring his guarantee, she chooses to give into love over sanity and risks her life for the opportunity of being with him.

Nathan, knowing the risks gives into this want to have Tracey presuming it may be better to jeopardize their possible ending, than to allow her to endure the pain of his devoid. Nonetheless, with him being a burdened Sephlem, not only are they burdened by their adversaries who will risk everything but the exposure of their existence to see Nathan fall. But Nathan and Tracey come to find that their most sinister enemies lie under their same roof and regrettably share the same bloodline.


Available at Amazon and BN

Excerpt:


We walk out of the house to the backyard, and over to a gazebo that sits off to the side, equal distance from the house and the fence. There are cushioned benches and a beautiful water fountain surrounded by lilies. It’s dimly lit and the rest of the light comes from the remainder of the setting sun.
“I’m sorry about him, Tracey.” He sits down, pulling me to sit across him.
“No, it’s okay. There’s something off about him though. I know you know him better than I do—him being your dad and all. But there is something about him that doesn’t sit well with me. Why all the questions all of a sudden? Just the other day he was the least bit interested in us.”
“He’s an ass. That is how he is. He is one way one day and a different way the next. Fortunately, you were not able to hear what he was really saying—only what came out of his mouth.”
“And what was that?” I’m curious.
“‘This isn’t about you. This is about Nathan.’” He points to himself.
I tense, feeling a slight discomfort. That’s what the Nathan-look-alike said to me the other night, and in that same tone. “That sounds familiar.”
“How so?”
“You said that to me the day you tricked me.”
“That wasn’t me, again, and what do you mean?”
“That exact same tone, those words. When the guy—” I can’t recall his name. “—cut me, that’s what he said.” My hands start getting cold.
Nathan thinks for a moment, or maybe looks in my head. I sit quiet until he says something. “We have today. I’ll worry about it tomorrow,” he responds, ten minutes later.
I smile at him. Although, that really doesn’t give me much for whatever conclusion he came up with, or if he came up with a conclusion. We sit in silence. I try to wrap my head around Nathan’s father and his mixed personalities.
“What is he going to try to talk to us about?” I ask.
“He has no plans of talking with us. Rather, I have no intentions of speaking with him—not with you in the room anyway.”
“Why not with me in the room?” The distant Nathan is back.
“I would say things to him, and perform in a way, that I don’t want you to see.”
“And what, by you doing so, will make me think differently of you?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I have no respect for my father. I don’t care about hurting his feelings—if he had any. I also don’t use control when I deal with him.” He looks towards the yard.
“What are you saying?” I probe.
“Tracey, this is not a conversation I’m ready to have right now.”
“Why do you hold things back from me?”
“My life is difficult. My relationship with my father is not like others. How would it sound to you if I said I want to kill my father, and every time I try, the only thing that saves him is my mother? That I don’t mind losing control around him, in hopes that I would murder him—with no doubts or regrets.” He looks at me with no hurt in his eyes about his feelings.
“But if you murder your father, wouldn’t you kill your mother as well?”
“No, she will remain alive, but she will be miserable and out of character.”
“Wait, I’m confused. I thought one could not live without the other?”
“The female can live without the male, but not the other way around. Remember, your heart beats in replacement of mine. So if I die, your heart will still beat, but if you die, that’s it for the both of us.” That’s some crazy shit. “But if I’m hurt, you can always heal me, and I you. You may also be able to feel my hurt now.”


About the Author:

A love for reading transpired into an admiration for writing at a young age for Peiri Ann. Starting off in writing poetry and short stories she indulged in the possibilities of creating new worlds and lives to live within them opening a window of unanticipated possibilities. In high school a pin and notebook never left her grasps and in college the pin was replaced by a keyboard and the notebook replaced by a computer screen. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and certified in business management.

When Peiri Ann is not writing, reading, doing homework, or working in the downtown of Chicago she enjoys spending time with her little girl, watching action flicks, and spooning peanut butter from the jar as a midnight snack.



Twitter - @peiriann


Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7728917.Peiri_Ann


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Monday, July 21, 2014

Spotlight on The Loving Husband Trilogy by Meredith Allard





The Loving Husband Trilogy
Box Set- All Three Books
Meredith Allard

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: Copperfield Press
Date of Publication: 6/10/14

Number of pages: 782
Word Count: 265,000

Cover Artist: LFD Designs

Book Description:

Meredith Allard’s beloved best selling paranormal/historical Loving Husband Trilogy is now available together for the first time, with bonus material about the series. The collection includes the full texts of Her Dear & Loving HusbandHer Loving Husband’s Curse, and Her Loving Husband’s Return, plus a Q&A with Meredith Allard, series inspirations, and discussion questions. The Loving Husband Trilogy Box Set will please the most devoted James and Sarah Wentworth fans as well as fans new to the series.

Book One: Her Dear & Loving Husband

James Wentworth has a secret. He lives quietly in Salem, Massachusetts, making few ties with anyone. One night his private world is turned upside down when he meets Sarah Alexander, a dead ringer for his wife, Elizabeth. Though it has been years since Elizabeth's death, James cannot move on. 

Sarah also has a secret. She is haunted by nightmares about the Salem Witch Trials, and every night she is awakened by visions of hangings, being arrested, and dying in jail. Despite the obstacles of their secrets, James and Sarah fall in love. As James comes to terms with his feelings for Sarah, he must dodge accusations from a reporter desperate to prove that James is not who, or what, he seems to be. Soon James and Sarah piece their stories together and discover a mystery that may bind them in ways they never imagined. Do vampires and witches live in Salem? Will James make the ultimate sacrifice to protect Sarah and prevent a new hunt from bringing hysteria to Salem again? 

Book Two: Her Loving Husband’s Curse

How far will you go to protect the one you love?

Finally, after many long and lonely years, vampire James Wentworth's life is falling into place. Together with his wife, Sarah, the only woman he has ever loved, he has found the meaning behind her nightmares about the Salem Witch Trials, and now they are rebuilding the life they began together so long ago.

But the past is never far behind for the Wentworths. While Sarah is haunted by new visions, now about the baby she carried over three hundred years before, James is confronted with painful memories from his time with the Cherokee on the Trail of Tears. Through it all, the persistent reporter Kenneth Hempel reappears, still determined to prove that the undead walk the earth. If Hempel succeeds in his quest, James and Sarah will suffer. Will the curse of the vampire prevent James and Sarah from living their happily ever after?

Book Three: Her Loving Husband’s Return

What would you do to return to the only one you have ever loved?

Vampire James Wentworth’s secret is no longer a secret, and now he and his beloved wife, Sarah, have been separated. While suffering his own internment, James is reminded of his time with Japanese-Americans in the Manzanar Relocation Camp during World War II, and he cannot allow the past to repeat itself. With the help of his friends—Chandresh, Jocelyn, Timothy, even the irreverent Geoffrey—James learns what it means to return, and he is determined to return to his Sarah no matter the challenges—or the consequences. In the end, it may be up to Olivia, the most powerful of witches, to grant James’s most fervent wish. Will James and Sarah be reunited once and for all despite the madness surrounding them?

Excerpt from Book One

PROLOGUE

I am looking lovingly into the eyes of a man, though I cannot see his face because it is featureless, like a blank slate. We are standing in front of a wooden house with narrow clapboards, and there are diamond-paned casement windows and a steep pitched roof with two gables pointing at the laughing, hidden moon. I am certain I hear someone singing sweet nothings to us from the sky. From the light of the few jewel stars I can see the halo of his hair, like the halo of an angel, and even if I cannot see his eyes I know they look at me, into me. I stand on my toes, he is much taller than me, and I point up my face and he kisses me. As the warmth of his lips melts into mine, making me weak from the inside out, I feel my knees give from the thrilling lightness his touch brings. I know the face I cannot see is beautiful, like the lips I feel. His hands press me into him, clutching me closer, closer, unwilling to let me go. I grip him with equal strength, wishing he would carry me inside, yet I cannot bring myself to break our embrace.
“I shall never leave you ever,” he whispers in my ear. I promise him the same.
I do not know how I have been so fortunate to have this man in my life, but here he is, before me, wanting me. I am overcome with the joy of him.


CHAPTER 1

Sarah Alexander didn’t know what was waiting for her in Salem, Massachusetts. She had moved there to escape the smog and the smugness of Los Angeles, craving the dulcet tones of a small town, seeking a less complicated life. Her first hint of the supernatural world came the day she moved into her rented brick house near the historic part of town, close to the museums about the witch trial days, not far from the easy, wind-blown bay. As the heavy-set men hauled her furniture inside, her landlady leaned close and told her to beware.
“If you hear sounds in the night it’s ghosts,” the landlady whispered, glancing around to be sure no one, human or shadow, could hear. “The spirits of the innocent victims of the witch hunts still haunt us. I can feel them stirring now. God rest them.”
Sarah didn’t know what to say. She had never been warned about ghosts before. The landlady peered at her, squinting to see her better.
“You’re a pretty girl,” the old woman said. “Such dark curls you have.” She still spoke as if she were telling a secret, and Sarah had to strain to hear. “You’re from California?”
“I moved there after I got married,” Sarah said.
“Where’s your husband?”
“I’m divorced now.”
“And your family is here?”
“In Boston. I wanted to live close to my family, but I didn’t want to move back to the city. I’ve always wanted to visit Salem, so I thought I’d live here awhile.”
The landlady nodded. “Boston,” she said. “Some victims of the witch trials were jailed in Boston.”
The landlady was so bent and weak looking, her fragile face lined like tree rings, that Sarah thought the old woman had experienced the hysteria in Salem during the seventeenth century. But that was silly, Sarah reminded herself. The Salem Witch Trials happened over three hundred years ago. There was no one alive now who had experienced that terror first hand. Sarah wanted to tell the landlady how she believed she had an ancestor who died as a victim of the witch hunts, but she didn’t say anything then.
“Yes, they’re here,” the landlady said, staring with time-faded eyes at the air above their heads, as if she saw something no one else could see. “Beware, Sarah. The ghosts are here. And they always come out at night.”
The landlady shook as if she were cold, though it was early autumn and summer humidity still flushed the air. When Sarah put her arm around the old woman to comfort her, she felt her skin spark like static. She rubbed her hands together, feeling the numbness even after the old woman pulled away.
“It’s all right,” Sarah said. “I won’t be frightened by paranormal beings. I don’t believe in ghosts.”
The landlady laughed. “Salem may cure you of that.”
For a moment Sarah wondered if she made a mistake moving there, but she decided she wouldn’t let a superstitious old woman scare her away. She thought about her new job in the library at Salem State College—Humanities I liaison, go-to person for English studies, well worth the move across the country. She saw the tree-lined, old-fashioned neighborhood and the comforting sky. She heard the lull of bird songs and the distant whisper of the sea kissing the shore. She felt a rising tranquility, like the tide of the ocean waves at noon, wash over her. It was a contentment she had never known before, not in Boston, never in Los Angeles. She was fascinated by Salem, looking forward to knowing it better, certain she was exactly where she needed to be, whatever may come.
Sarah’s first days in the library were hectic since it was the start of an autumn term. She spent her shifts on the main floor, an open, industrial-style space of bright lights, overhead beams, and windows that let in white from the sun and green from the trees abundant everywhere on campus. Across from the librarians’s desk, a combined circulation and reference area, was a lounge of comfortable chairs in soothing grays and blues where some students socialized using their inside voices while others stalked like eagle-eyed hunters, searching the stacks or the databases.
By Wednesday afternoon, as she saw the short-tempered rain clouds march across the Salem sky, Sarah thought she would have to buy a car soon. After driving and dodging in nail-biting Los Angeles traffic for ten years, she liked the freedom of walking the quiet roads from home to work, watching in wonder as the leaves turned from summer green to an autumn fade of red, rust, and gold. But she had been living in the sunshine on the west coast for ten years, and she had forgotten about the sudden anger of New England thunderstorms. They could appear just like that, a crack of noise overhead, then a gray flannel blanket covered the sky as fast as you could blink your eyes, water splashing all around, wetting you when you did not want to be wet, and she was caught unprepared. She held out her hand and shook her head when she felt the drops splash her palm. Jennifer Mandel’s voice sang out behind her.
“Need a lift?”
“Please.”
Sarah wiped her palm on her skirt, grateful once again for Jennifer’s assistance. Jennifer had been the head librarian at the college for five years, and she had taken Sarah under her wing, showing her where everything was, introducing her to the rest of the staff, answering her questions. There was something almost odd about Jennifer’s intuition—she always seemed to know when Sarah needed her, like a clairvoyant magic trick. They sprinted to the parking lot, trying to avoid the sudden splats of rain soaking their thin blouses through, and they clambered into Jennifer’s white Toyota, laughing like schoolgirls jumping in puddles. Jennifer drove the curve around Loring Avenue to Lafayette Street, the main road to and from the college.
“Where were you before you came here?” Jennifer asked. “You’re obviously not used to the rain.”
“I worked at UCLA.”
“A small town like Salem must seem dreary after living in the big city.”
Sarah looked at Jennifer, saw the compassion in her eyes, the understanding smile, so she said just enough to make herself understood. “I’m recently divorced.”
Jennifer held up her hand. “You don’t need to explain. I have two ex-husbands myself.”
They drove quietly, letting the sound of the car’s accelerator and the rain tapping the windshield fill the space. As Sarah watched the small-town scene drift past, she thought it might not be so bad to drive in Salem. Everything back east, the roads, the shops, the homes, was built on an old-time scale, narrower and smaller than they were out west. But here people slowed when you wanted to merge into their lane and they stopped at stop signs, so different from L.A. where they’d run you over sooner than let you pass.
“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night?” Jennifer asked. “We’re having a get-together at my mother’s shop.” She leaned closer to Sarah and whispered though they were alone in the car. “I should probably tell you, and I’ll understand if you think this is too weird, but my mother and I are witches.”
Sarah studied Jennifer, her hazel eyes, her long auburn hair, her friendly smile. “You don’t look like a witch,” she said.
“You mean the kind with black hair and a nose wart? The kind that fly around on broomsticks? Not that kind of witch.”
“You mean you’re Wiccan?”
“Yes, I practice the Wiccan religion, among other things. I’m the high priestess of my coven. I’m also licensed to perform weddings here in Massachusetts, in case you ever need someone to preside over a wedding for you.”
Sarah laughed. “I just got divorced. I won’t be getting married again any time soon.” She paused to watch the drizzle slip and slide on the windows. “I’m surprised there really are witches in Salem.”
“Ironic, isn’t it? The city known for hanging witches is now a haven for mystics.” Jennifer shook her head, her expression tight. “Is this too much information? I don’t usually tell someone a few days after I’ve met her that I’m Wiccan, but you have a positive energy. You don’t seem like someone who’s going to assume I’m a Satanist who loves human sacrifices.”
“I don’t mind. I’m just surprised. I’ve never known a witch before.”
“There are all sorts of interesting people you could meet around here.” Jennifer nudged Sarah with her elbow. “So will you come tomorrow night?”
“I don’t know, Jennifer.”
“You don’t need to participate in the rituals. Come make some friends. I think you’ll like the other witches in my coven. They’re good people.”
A Wiccan ceremony did sound odd, Sarah thought, but she had always been fascinated by different religions and cultures. Librarians had to keep learning—a healthy curiosity was a job necessity. And it would be nice to know some people in Salem, even if they were witches.
As they continued down Lafayette Street, Sarah saw the sign for Pioneer Village and she added it to her mental to-do list. “I haven’t had a chance to see much of this part of town since I’ve been here,” she said.
“How about a quick tour then?”
“What about the rain?”
Jennifer turned right down Derby Street. “I’ve lived here my whole life. A little water doesn’t bother me.”
Jennifer drove down one tree-lined street, then down another street, and another until Sarah didn’t know where she was. Though Witch City was small, Sarah was still learning her way around. She tried to gauge her surroundings and saw the tall, white lines of the Peabody-Essex Museum, then further down was the Hawthorne Hotel. Past that was the brick, colonial-looking Salem Maritime National Historic Site. As she watched the history flip past, like a stack of photographs from time gone by, she noticed a house she thought she knew though she was sure she hadn’t been down that way before. The one that caught her attention had wooden clapboards, diamond-paned casement windows, and two gables on the roof. It was old, though it didn’t seem to be a museum as the other old buildings were.
“What is that house?” she asked. “It looks familiar.”
“James Wentworth lives there.”
“Do you know him?”
Jennifer’s answer was stilted, as if she considered each word, weighed it, measured it, decided yes or no about it, before she let it drop from her lips. “He teaches at the college. He—his family—has owned this house for generations. It’s over three hundred years old, one of the oldest standing homes in Salem.”
Jennifer slowed the car so they could get a better look as she drove past. “Does it still look familiar?” she asked.
“Yes. Even that crooked oak tree in front seems right. I can picture the man I dream about standing in front there kissing me.”
“What dreams?” Jennifer gripped the steering wheel more tightly and her eyes brightened. “My mother’s friend Martha is great at dream interpretation. She’s done a world of good for me.” She winked at Sarah. “And you dream about a man? Is he a good looking man?”
Sarah pulled her arms around her chest, wishing she could take back her casual reference, afraid she had already said too much.
“Do you have a lot of dreams?”
“Yes,” Sarah said. But that was all she could manage. When Jennifer had waited long enough and Sarah had to offer something more, all she could say was, “It’s not a big deal. I just thought I knew the house from somewhere.”
“A lot of houses around here look the same,” Jennifer said.
Sarah looked at the houses, the tall, Federal-style ones, the Victorian ones, the brick ones, the modern-looking ones. Suddenly, as they drove around the green of Salem Common, the rain cleared, the sun brightened, and the clouds flittered away across the bay.
“That must be it,” she said.
She lowered the car window so she could smell the wet air. Though she missed the rain when she lived in Los Angeles, at that moment she was glad to see the serene blue reflection of the northeastern sky again.

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

About the Author:

Meredith Allard is the author of the best-selling novels The Loving Husband Trilogy, Victory Garden, Woman of Stones, and My Brother’s Battle (Copperfield Press). She received her B.A. and M.A. degrees in English from California State University, Northridge. She has taught writing to students aged ten to sixty, and she has taught creative writing and writing historical fiction seminars at Learning Tree University, UNLV, and the Las Vegas Writers Conference. She lives in Las Vegas, Nevada.









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