Tag Archives: ghost story

Fantasy, Mystery, Murder, Romance and Ghosts


I’m having a revival for my first published novel, light paranormal romance Somewhere My love. A few of its more recent reviews:

“Wow, A Two Hundred Year Old Murder That Kept Two Lovers Apart…The Perfect “Who Done It” That You Never Will Guess! Somewhere My Love Is A MUST Read!!” ~Linda Bass

“If you love ghost stories or stories of reincarnation, you’ll love Somewhere My Love.”~Gayle

“Beth Trissel did a great job describing the characters, scenes and emotions. I could visualize the home and grounds. The story has a very quick timeline which seemed unrealistic but again it fits with the premise of the story of two lovers coming back together. The ending was quite a shock and I enjoyed it. This is a very non-sexual book so it is a great read for any age.” ~Lady McNeill for Mrs. Condit and Friends Read Books

My favorite review:

As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using deliciously eerie elements similar to that gothic romance, Beth Trissel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now.
~ Joysann, Publishers Weekly

The flavor of Somewhere My Love is reminiscent of the much-loved romance movie Somewhere In Time.~

Blurb: Star-crossed lovers have a rare chance to reclaim the love cruelly denied them in the past, but can they grasp this brief window in time before it is too late?

Newly arrived at Foxleigh, the gracious old Wentworth home in Virginia, British born Julia Morrow is excited at the prospect of a summer working as a guide in the stately house and herb garden. She quickly discovers the historic plantation holds far more. She becomes obsessed with the portrait of handsome Cole Wentworth, killed in a quarrel over the lovely English lady, Julia Maury, two hundred years ago. Then she meets his double, William, the only remaining Wentworth heir. Somehow, Julia must persuade Will that their fates are entwined with those of Cole Wentworth and Julia Maury, and that the man who killed his ancestor has returned to enact the deadly cycle again, or she will lose him twice. The blade is about to fall. ~

Excerpt:

Will blew the layer of dust from an ornate wooden box inlaid with ivory and lifted the lid. Inside were brass workings like the mechanism of a clock.  He wound a small gold key in the back until it would wind no more, and released it. The wheels and cogs turned and wonderful music flowed forth, the beautiful strains of a Viennese waltz, The Blue Danube.

Julia clapped her hands. “A music box.”

He bowed. “May I have this dance, sweet Julia?”

She gazed up into his velvet brown eyes, and he gazed back. She managed a nod and he drew her into his arms.

Around the attic he waltzed with her secure in his lead.  Everything fell away except this moment while the haunting melody played on, taking her back to that faintly remembered place. She didn’t even stumble, not once.  It was as if some inner memory guided her in the steps, even though ballroom dancing hadn’t been a part of her lessons.

The music picked up and he swung her around and around. Her dress swirled as he circled. With each turn, he was Will—then Cole, Will—then Cole, both men in rapid succession, separate and yet the same. Her heart pounded from far more than the whirling dance.

The music faded and Will slowly stopped revolving. They stood, his arms circled at her back and waist, eyes locked on each other.

His brow furrowed. “Julia, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “You may be the ghost.”

He tightened his mouth in an impatient line. “Don’t try to make me into Cole again.”

“Will, listen to me. I know it sounds crazy, but I think somehow you already are.”

He dropped his hands, turning away. “Only because you insist I am.”

She grabbed his arm. “No. It’s what I saw while we danced. You must believe me.”

“Believing doesn’t make it any easier,” he said flatly.

“That’s because you think I’m misled.”

He swiveled his head at her. Exasperation flared in his eyes. “There’s a simple reason for my laboring under that assumption. You are.”

“Don’t be angry. I hate that I’ve spoiled such a lovely moment.”

“You’ve a talent for that.” He turned and strode across the floor. His footsteps echoed on the boards with a hollow sound, just as her heart would beat if he left.

She ran behind him and reached out, catching his plush shoulder. “Consider me balmy, if you must, but don’t walk away. Please Will.”

He stayed as he was. “What do you want me to do, Julia?”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t strong enough to turn him and dashed in front instead, grasping his upper arms and twisting the fabric in her fingers. “Something—anything.”

He smiled faintly. “Never say those words to a man.”

Cupping her face between his hands, he bent his head and closed his lips over hers in an all-consuming kiss…so swiftly she hardly knew what had happened. Even if he hadn’t cupped her cheeks, she wouldn’t have moved. The compelling press of his mouth bound her in place. If possible, Julia’s heart thudded even faster than it had before. The surging pulse drummed through her entire being, reverberating in places she didn’t even know she had. From what she could remember of her dream with Cole, her feelings had been poignant but tender. The sensations coursing through her now weren’t entirely that. An exhilarating passion was sweeping her up in a shocking tide.

“Who am I now?” Will whispered against her mouth.

She loosened her grip on his jacket in speechless surprise, too breathless to tell him she didn’t care.~

Those of you with Android phones can download my Author App and get a free ebook of Somewhere My Love. For the rest of you, the novel has been reduced to 2.99 at Amazon, The Wild Rose Press, & Nookbook. It’s also for sale in print and/or ebook at all other major online booksellers and some not so major.

Youtube Link for the Trailer!

Author Jerri Hines with Ghostly Regency Romance Daughter of Deceit


“The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always — take any form — drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!”

EMILY BRONTE, Wuthering Heights

Welcome Jerri.  I’m also a big fan of Wuthering Heights, did a blog post on it, and I’ve written several ghostly romances in my ‘Somewhere’ series, so we have much in common.  Your new story sounds most intriguing.

And now, back to Jerri.

Thanks Beth.  Most authors are influenced in their writings by their values and beliefs. We are likely to reflect our perspective into our words which will affect the way the reader will relate our story. It should come as no surprise that our own experiences influence our writings. So the question would have to be asked if you one writes a paranormal book, where does one gather experience to write a ghost story?

The answer to me is quite simple…a vivid imagination. Being an avid reader, I love to immerse myself in books and transport myself into a different world. Some books stay with you such as Wuthering Heights, one of my favorite books.  I can still visualize Catherine as a misguided soul wandering the moors searching for what she lost.

Ghost stories are meant to scare. Admit it- we all love a ghost story. So is it the fear and the thrill that attracts us to books with paranormal elements? Ghosts are an unexplained occurrences, but in some aspect I believe we empathize with these lost souls. Most would agree if ghost do exists they are lost souls searching for an answer.  So can spirits cross back over from the other side? Are they searching for closure? Good or malevolent? With purpose or simply lost?

The thought sparked a question within me. Would justice be served if a person could reach beyond the grave to right a wrong?

Daughter of Deceit is a story about forbidden love. Set in Regency England, Lord Julian Casvelyn has long lived with the guilt brought on by the murder of his brother by the hands of England’s most notorious traitor. Alyce Hythe is the daughter of that man who is bent on clearing her father’s name, but strange things have been happening to Alyce causing rumors to be whispered of mystic ghosts.

Blurb: Someone wants Alyce Hythe dead…

Shunned from London society for being the daughter of England’s most notorious spy, Alyce Hythe desires only to clear her father’s name. For years, she has been hidden away from all prying eyes, given a new identity and told to forget who she was. But strange things have been happening causing old rumors to once more be whispered.

Long has Lord Julian Casvelyn lived with guilt brought on when his brother was murdered by England’s most infamous traitor. But one eventful night has changed everything Lord Julian believed about his brother’s death. Never did he suspect the woman he has just saved from certain harm is the daughter of that man. Now Julian is caught in midst of a conspiracy and desire for that woman.

Thrown together by fate, the two search for answers long denied them and along the way discover a love that can free them both.

Excerpt:

Thankful indeed she could breathe again at least for a moment. She turned to stand by Lissa, but instead she froze upon the sight. The last person she ever expected to see this night stood in front of her.

She froze in her spot. His wide mouth curved into a vague smile which could easily turn hard she suspected. He looked quite striking, handsome and elegant in his crisp black and white evening clothes. His dark eyes darkened intensely upon her. Before she had a chance to protest, his arm gripped her elbow firmly.

“Oh, no, my dear, I think not,” his utterance carried a hard edge which startled her. “I have long tried to gain an audience with you and have been reputed one way or another. If you choose to make a scene, it will not bode well for you. You may have been hiding in the nest of the Arungdon, but I can guarantee you that legally you are still the ward of my grandfather and I…”

“Please, Lord Casvelyn, you do not have to resort to threats,” she turned her head to see if any other’s attention lay upon them, but none seemed interested. Her gaze shifted back to him. “What, pray, could you have to talk to me? Charles did send his appreciation for you saving me. He assured me he had taken care of the situation and the magistrate…”

“Come. Come. Miss Rufford…or should I say Hythe. I believe there is much we could talk of.”

She glanced back over her shoulder as he edged her along beside him. “Where are you taking me? It will not be proper…”

He cut her words short. “No one will see, I can assure you. I have arranged how I can I say this a few minutes where we will not be disrupted. Then you can rush back to your lordship.”

She watched Lord Casvelyn nod to a man in front of him, a tall man tawny hair and blue eyes. The man nodded back. Immediately, she felt herself being flung into a side door, closing tightly behind her. She could only imagine why Lord Casvelyn thought it necessary to have a guard at the door.

The room was small, quaint in appearance. There was no fire lit nor candle only the moonlit shone in light. He gestured to her to sit upon a settee. She hesitated, but then complied. To her dismay he sat beside her.

She found it difficult to catch a breath with him so near. He stared at her in a manner which made her remember all too well being in his arms with his lips upon hers.

“Now will you please explain yourself so I can rejoin Charles.”

“Ah, yes, the love of your life. I have heard. Unfortunately, I tend to doubt your proclamation of feelings.”

She stared at him and he returned it. He sat close to her, too close. She scooted back but he moved, allowing only her a scant space between her and this man who made her skin shiver with just his touch. “How dare you,” she uttered under her breath. “You don’t know me. Charles and I love each other greatly…”

“Do you?” he asked in a low voice. “Are you in the habit of sharing kisses with another while in the deep throbs of love for another? Come. Do not think I have forgotten having you in my arms. Kissing you, touching you…if not interrupted, perhaps it would have lead to more than…”

She slapped him, hard, and attempted to rise. He thwarted her with his two strong hands, pulling her down to him.

“You are no gentleman!”

“Perhaps,” he answered her, but his voice softened. “Perhaps.”

His hands released her back to her seat. What did he do to her that made her act as if she had not a reasonable thought in her head?~

 

***Daughter of Deceit at Amazon

Jerri Hines (Carrie James Haynes)

Castles in the Air Blog:

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Twitter: @jhines340   or @CarrieJHaynes

A Sweet Saturday Snippet from Murder Mystery Ghost Story Romance Somewhere My Love


“There he is,” Mrs. Hensley said with whispery reverence as she gestured at the full-length portrait on the wall across from the bed. “Painted shortly before his death. His father, Charles Wentworth, was married to Lady Pembrook, the daughter of a British Earl. And Mr. Cole looks a true nobleman, doesn’t he?”

Julia halted. His presence was a soft breath on her neck that warmed and chilled her at the same time. The current running through her strengthened tenfold as she looked up at the young man and his gaze projected eerily back as if he knew she were there.

The artist had captured the intensity in Cole’s dark brown eyes allowing the force of his personality to shine through. His smooth forehead, slightly long nose, and clean-shaven chin balanced the three elements perfectly. He even had a small cleft in his chin as she’d imagined a nobleman would and his mouth was captivating, full, yet not too full.

Wavy chestnut hair met the white cravat circling his neck and made her want to reach out and touch it. She felt like a schoolgirl sighing at the poster of a film star, only this was so much more than that. Her awe at the house paled in comparison to the wonder rising in her as she ran her eyes down the length of the masterful portrait. She couldn’t be certain of Cole’s height, but he appeared tall, standing beside a splendid thoroughbred, his stunning figure clothed in an elegant scarlet coat fitted across his broad shoulders and cut away in front to reveal creamy white breeches molded to his thighs and long legs. He held a plaited leather whip with a crooked handle of carved ivory or bone like a stag’s horn and the thong looped in his left hand. The reins were casually circled around the tapered fingers of his right.

Maybe it was the sheltered life Julia had led, but it seemed to her that Cole embodied everything a man should.

“I see his appeal’s not lost on you,” her companion said.

She’d nearly forgotten the woman was there.

“No. Cole Wentworth is—was—remarkable. What do you know of him?”

“He was passionate about horses and unbeatable in a race.” Mrs. Hensley nodded her capped head at several smaller gilt frames displaying portraits of hunting dogs and horses so beautifully done they appeared lifelike. “He was a gifted artist, as well. We have other paintings by him in the house, but most are here, where he was killed. Tragic.”

A cold finger laid its icy touch on Julia and ran down the length of her spine. “How did it happen?”

“He’s said to have been run through by the very man who made that mark on the door. Mr. Cameron.  Scottish fellow he was, back in…” Mrs. Hensley pursed her thin lips, blue eyes distant. “Ah, yes, 1806. Some fuss over a woman.”

“How dreadful. What about Mr. Cameron?”

“The friend of a neighbor, I believe. He escaped and was never found. No justice was ever done in the matter.”

Julia hesitated, then asked, “And the woman?”

“Heartbroken, poor thing. She returned to England. She was a guest of the Wentworth family and greatly enamored of Cole. All the young ladies were, but he had a particular fascination with this girl.”

“Why was she so special?”

“Apart from her legendary beauty? She had an angelic quality about her. Or so the story goes.”

An irrational jealousy twanged a jarring note in Julia. In the space of a few short minutes she’d fallen in love with the man in the portrait—typical of her impractical nature and unlikely to advance her nonexistent love life. And yet, she couldn’t help plunging into the sweet madness.~

“As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using deliciously eerie elements similar to that gothic romance, Beth Trissel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now.”

~ Joysann, Publishers Weekly

***Special Offer from the Wild Rose Press!  Join their newsletter to get some free books including this one!  One day only offer for a FREE EBOOK of Somewhere My Love on Dec. 5th. For the link to their newsletter click HERE.

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Release Day Eve!


Like a kid whose hung their stocking in hopes that Saint Nickolas soon will appear, my hope is for appreciative readers.  My new release, Somewhere the Bells Ring, is out tomorrow, Nov. 9th, at The Wild Rose Press and will swiftly travel on to Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Nobles Nookbook and other online booksellers.

If you enjoy an intriguing mystery set in vintage America with Gothic overtones and heart-tugging romance then Somewhere the Bells Ring is for you.  And did I mention the ghost?

Blurb: Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope–until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe–in Bailey and the ghost–before the Christmas bells ring?

New Sweet Saturday Sample from Light Paranormal Romance Somewhere My Love


Star-crossed lovers have a rare chance to reclaim the love cruelly denied them in the past, but can they grasp this brief window in time before it is too late?

Newly arrived at Foxleigh, the gracious old Wentworth home in Virginia, British born Julia Morrow is excited at the prospect of a summer working as a guide in the stately house and herb garden. She quickly discovers the historic plantation holds far more.~

Excerpt:

A wildly irrational hope pulsed inside Julia. She bit her lip, hoping Will wouldn’t think her balmy. “Is it possible we’ve met before?”

The spark of life in his eyes faded. “I don’t see how.”

Yet, like a distant melody growing stronger, she instinctively knew his voice…him. “I’m not familiar to you at all?”

“How could you be, Miss Morrow?”

That name sounded alien on his lips. “It’s Julia.”

His face tightened in an almost imperceptible wince. “I’d prefer we retained formal working titles. At least until we’re better acquainted.”

Disappointment washed through her. “Then you really don’t remember me?”

He ran long fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you, somehow,” she persisted.

An inner struggle flickered in his eyes. Wariness won out and he set his jaw. “The mind sometimes plays tricks on us, especially when mixed with an active imagination.”

“It’s more than that…rather like waking from a sleep when you cannot clearly recall the dream, only feel it.”

For a moment, he seemed pensive, then that sardonic look returned to his eyes. His gaze narrowed. “You’re dreaming, all right. I expect you’ve joined the throng of women in love with the dashing Cole Wentworth.”

Julia felt a blush burning her cheeks. She couldn’t deny that possibility. The name alone ripped through her.

“Is this a problem with your working here?” he asked.

Mustering what dignity she had left, she drew herself up. “I’m fully capable of conducting myself with propriety, Mr. Wentworth. I’m British, for God’s sake.”

He frowned at her. “The Brits don’t have a monopoly on self-control. But I’ll allow you the benefit of the doubt in this instance.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Very good of you, I’m sure. I’ll endeavor not to put you out again.”

He made an impatient noise under his breath. “I’ve been all through this before, Miss Morrow.”

“Making allowances for Brits?”

“No. Admirers of my legendary cousin, superb horseman, exquisite artist, gallant nobleman struck down in his prime. Despite our similarities, I am not Cole Wentworth. There’s one glaring difference between us.”

“He’s more charming?” she suggested.

William shot her a sarcastic smile. “He’s dead. Do try to bear that in mind.”~

*For more Sweet Saturday Samples click HERE.

**If you’d like the opportunity to win the eBook of Somewhere My Love jump down to my Spook-A-Licious Blog Hop Tour post and leave me a comment.

***Somewhere My Love is available in print and or eBook formats from online booksellers large and small at a reduced price.

Spooky Tale for Halloween and A Giveaway


This seems like an appropriate time of year to repost the account of the poltergeist in our old farm-house.  Settle in for a ghost story and keep the lights on. About nine years ago, my young adult son moved into the big white farm-house on our other farm. We have two farms located near each other in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia and both homes are well over one hundred years old, going  on two.  Some of his guy friends moved in and everything was fine, then he and his fiancée (now wife) started remodeling the house. At first, no one thought much about the noises. Neither of them even mentioned a thing to me.

Then one night my son called, alone and uneasy. He was hunkered downstairs with his cat. Seems there were footsteps he couldn’t account for and a certain bedroom upstairs with a door that wouldn’t stay shut. No matter how many times he closed it, come morning it was always open. Earlier that week, his fiancé had been distressed when the bathroom doorknob turned and the door opened on her.  No one was there.  It freaked the cat out.  Didn’t do her much good either.  She was promptly converted from a disbeliever in ghosts to one strongly considering their reality.
Now, she’d gone away on a trip with her church and none of my son’s other friends were around. The last of his roomies had moved out. I suspected all the remodeling they’d done to the house had stirred something up. So, I went over. Here, I’ll digress to say I’d dreamed earlier of a small grave plot way back in the fields behind the house and of a restless spirit associated with both. As it turned out there is just such a cemetery, an antiquated one. After I arrived that evening, my son and I went upstairs to the suspect bedroom and shut the door. The sensation that came over me was of wanting to scream, and not just because I’m claustrophobic.
We held hands and I repeated the Exorcism prayer sent to my mother from an Episcopalian woman in England.  She’d written mom about visiting the church manse at the invitation of the new priest who was plagued by a poltergeist–one so violent, it had flung portraits down from the upstairs hall, shifted heavy furniture in front of  doors, and hurled a saucepan lid across the kitchen. But the congregants, along with the priest, had prayed it out. As this was a Christian prayer, my son and I did the same in the old farmhouse. Never again did he or his fiancé hear footsteps or have any more trouble with doorknobs turning. That bedroom door remained as they’d left it and the chill feeling I had in the room is gone.
*Here’s the Anglican prayer. Do not try this alone if the presence you sense is evil, only with a strong group of Christians, the more, the better. And join hands. Even if you think I’m nuts. “In the name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost, may this distressed soul be relieved of his obsession with this world and sent to where he belongs.”  I added, ‘go to the light,’ although a truly evil presence won’t, but a troubled, restless one may. Seems only right to offer that as an option. ~
This is one of the experiences that influenced the writing of my light paranormal murder mystery/ghost story romance novel Somewhere My Love.  To win the eBook of Somewhere My Love, pdf or kindle (or mobi) your choice, leave me a comment.  The more comments, the more winners there will be.
“As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using deliciously eerie elements similar to that gothic romance, Beth Trissel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now.”~ Joysann, Publishers Weekly
 

My Vintage American Christmas Ghost Story Romance


The year is 1968, think hippies, the cultural revolution and Americans divided into two diametrically opposed camps.  Those who were freaky and those who were square.  I’m glad to say I ranked among the former at the grand age of 13.  The song “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” came out in ”67 but exemplified the hippie movement still going strong  in ”68.  The war in Vietnam suffered its worst year ever and brought the horrors of the battlefield with civilian casualties into our living room via the evening news.  Our first fully televised up close and personal war.  Which explains the many marches, rallies, and protests.

Fashion was all over the place, and fishnet hose all the rage.  I delighted in my very own pair.  The maxi dress followed on the heels of the maxi skirt, which I was all about.  Mom sewed several for me.  I floated around like a princess, loved my first Bonne Bell lipstick, thrilled to the outrageous (for that day) rock song Innagadadavida by Iron Butterfly, was awed by Aquarius and the musical production Hair.  Stunned might be a better word, but it definitely impressed me.

Two shocking assassination took place that year, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy.  America was never the same again.

Space exploration erupted in a big way.  I shared the nation’s excitement over  the launch of Apollo 7 which orbited the earth 163 times, and Apollo 8 began the first U.S. mission to orbit the moon.  Our family and friends gathered around the black and white TV set to watch both takeoffs.  And I was a big fan of Star Trek, the original TV series, with James T. Kirk and his stellar crew.

The  top films in 1968 were Romeo and Juliette, 2001: A Space Odyssey,  Rosemary’s Baby, the first Planet of the Apes, Funny Girl, the Thomas Crown Affair,  the Lion in Winter, Bullitt,  Yours, Mine, and Ours, and  Oliver.   Romeo and Juliette stamped me as a romantic forever.

Guru’s and Eastern religions gained popularity in America and the world, as did several cults.  Remember the Moonies?  Not to neglect the ‘Jesus Freaks.’  I’m a Christian, but they were over the top for me.  Behind all of this heightened spiritualism was much soul-searching  as people tuned inward to discover who they really were.   And many didn’t have a clue.

Nostalgia drew me  to set Somewhere The Bells Ring in 1968 in the old family home place at Christmas, with flashbacks to an earlier era, 1918 and the end of World War 1, the Great War as it was known.  Contrasting  the effects of WWI and Vietnam through Eric and his Great Uncle Edward Burke, Marines who returned from each war, plays a significant role in the story.   And much self-discovery takes place in Bailey and Eric along with fast growing mutual discovery.  And then there’s the ghost.

Blurb: Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope–until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe–in Bailey and the ghost–before the Christmas bells ring?

***Available in kindle and nookbook and ebook at all major online booksellers.

Sweet Saturday Sample from Light Paranormal Romance Somewhere My Love (#3)


I would rate this sample PG.~

“A riveting blend of romance and intrigue with light paranormal tones that grab hold of you on page one and won’t let you go.” ~Reviewed by Jenni @ Romancing the Book

Lord, give him air. Julia had engulfed him in an irresistible tide. Her mouth…he must stop eyeing her enticing mouth. “Let’s see the gardens now.”

Like a soldier on drill, Will turned and walked swiftly out of the hall and into the passage that led to the front of the house. Julia practically had to sprint to keep pace with his ground-covering stride.

The gentleman in him took over on autopilot as he stopped in the worn flagstone foyer before the paneled entrance.  He pushed open the white door embellished by the carving of colonial craftsmen and beckoned to her.  “After you.”

“Thank you.” She walked across the threshold and onto the circular brick porch ringed with an iron railing.

The breeze had picked up with the approach of evening and lifted lengths of her long hair. Her already short skirt danced in the wind. The green-gold light spilled through the trees overhead and down across her blowing mane. His artist’s eye took in the glossy sheen of red, copper, and ginger reflecting the rays. As if this weren’t torment enough, Will glimpsed even more of her shapely legs, almost to her thighs with one gust.

Julia pushed the fabric back down, seemingly too absorbed in her surroundings even to notice. “Just smell that,” she sighed, inhaling deeply.

The warm fragrance from an avenue of ancient hedges filled the mild air. “Yes. I love the scent of Old English boxwood,” he said.

She flung her arms wide at the green expanse, knotted with herb gardens, and stretching down to the gently lapping river. “Magnificent!”

Will felt weak and emboldened in one, as if he wanted to lunge with a sword and stagger from a punishing blow.

An inner voice whispered, Julia’s back.~

***For the next two weeks, light paranormal romance Somewhere My Love is on sale for .99 at Amazon KindleThe Wild Rose PressAll Romance EbooksFictionwise….  After that, the price will remain at 2.99.

***Visit other authors taking part in SWEET SATURDAY SAMPLES 

My New Ghost Story/Vintage American Christmas Romance~


Woot!  I’m excited to announce that the latest in my ‘Somewhere’ series is coming out from The Wild Rose Press on November 9th!  I spent the bulk of last winter writing this Vintage American ghost story romance. You know, the usual Christmas fare.  🙂   An intriguing story for me to write, I hope it will be equally enthralling for you to read.

SOMEWHERE THE BELLS RING opens in 1968 in the Virginia family home place (circa 1816) where my dad was born and raised and I grew up visiting, with flashbacks to  1918 and the time of WWI.  I’m terribly sentimental about both eras.  1968 I remember well, as I was 12.  Certainly the Vietnam War and the hippie era made deep inroads into my psyche, but the WWI era took quite a bit more research, and thought.  I’ve seen wonderful old family photos from that time period, and my grandfather fought in WWI.  I’ve heard tales of his heroism. The story is dedicated to this amazing man whom I never knew.  He died suddenly when my father was three, a tragedy that rippled out to affect the next generation.  I grew up feeling very sad about it, and aware of what a remarkable man he was in many ways.   My recent release Into the Lion’s Heart is dedicated to my dear father whom I do know.

Blurb: Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope–until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe–in Bailey and the ghost–before the Christmas bells ring?~

My New Cover for Somewhere the Bells Ring!


Lovely cover by the talented artist Tamra Westberry.

SOMEWHERE THE BELLS RING is book three in my ‘Somewhere’ series with a Christmas theme.   Set in the old family homeplace where my father was born and raised, a beautiful plantation home from the early 19th century, the story opens in the tumultuous age of hippies and Vietnam and some of the best darn rock music ever written, 1968.  From that nostalgic age, this time travel/ghost story flashes back to an earlier era, 1918, and World War One.   Having a Marine Corps Captain grandfather who distinguished himself in France in the thick of the fighting during The Great War and then tragically died when my father was only three certainly influenced this story.  If you enjoy a good mystery with Gothic overtones, time travel back to vintage America, and heart-tugging romance then Somewhere the Bells Ring is for you.  Stay tuned for more as the release date nears later this year.