Tag Archives: Paranormal

The Ghosts Behind Haunting Mystery Romance Somewhere My Love

SOMEWHERE MY LOVE RESIZEDA Night Owl Top Pick: “The story will draw a reader in and will not let go until the very last page. It is a novel that will live in the hearts of its readers for a very long time.”

Volumes and volumes of books have been written about the ghosts of Virginia. Apparently, we have more ghost stories than any other state in the Union. And not because Virginians have a more fertile imagination (although we may) but sadly because the Old Dominion has seen more bloody battles over the centuries than any other. Before you differ with me, think back. Jamestown (founded 1607) was the site of the oldest successful English settlement and its history is a violent one. It’s also kind of creepy. And on we go to the many heart-rending wars fought with the usurped Indians, a number of them waged on Virginia soil.
Civil War, American Civil War, War, Ghost, Armed Forces,Virginia used to be a lot bigger than it is now, too. It spanned states.
And on we march to the Revolution. Anyone heard of Yorktown, to name just one famous battle? And let’s not forget that horrific most uncivil of wars, much of it fought in, you guessed it, Virginia. My ancestors took part in these wars, with the possible exception of James Town, although I’m thinking we came across a family account somewhere. Need to check.
Berkeley_plantation_harrison_homeBack to the ghosts: This plethora of paranormal activity doesn’t only feature soldiers caught in an endless fray who haven’t gotten word the war’s over–although some clairvoyant really should make the rounds of old battle fields and direct these poor souls to the light. Many tales center on the myriad of people who dwelt in our richly historic state. The old Virginia homes and plantations have accumulated a wealth of such stories. It was while touring some of these English styled manor homes with my dear mother that the kernel of a story first came to me for Somewhere My Love (Somewhere in Time Series).
Chapel Hill black and white imageAdded to this meld of vintage Virginia is my own heritage. On my father’s side, I descend from old Southern gentry, impoverished after the Civil WarGreat Depression, and other misfortunes, including the untimely death of my brilliant grandfather. But the gracious Georgian home his ancestor built (circa 1816) still stands in the countryside near historic Staunton. My ghostly Christmas novella,Somewhere the Bells Ring (Somewhere in Time Series), was inspired by this wonderful old home.
Chapel_HillsmSince childhood, I felt the family home place was haunted and wove stories through my fevered mind, along with my continual search for Narnia which entailed frequent treks into the old wardrobe. But I digress. Frequently. The magnificent ancestral portraits in my family and on display in other Virginia homes held me transfixed, wondering. And it was just such a portrait of a striking dark-haired gentleman who embedded himself in my thoughts. Who was he? Why did he die so young? That other painting of the fair young lady…did she love him?
ShirleyOften, the guides at these old homes are brimming with tales. But other times we are left to wonder…and ask ourselves are these folk who’ve gone before us truly gone, or do some still have unfinished business in this realm? And what of the young lovers whose time was tragically cut short, do they somehow find a way? Love conquers all, and so I answer ‘yes.’
*Homes most prominent behind the inspiration for Somewhere My Love:
Berkely Plantation (On the James River & well worth a visit)
Family home place called Chapel Hill (Not open to the public)
Shirley Plantation (On the James River & well worth a visit)

P&E Logo thingBlurb For Somewhere My Love
Fated 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’s too late?
Two hundred years ago Captain Cole Wentworth, the master of an elegant Virginian home, was murdered in his chamber where his portrait still hangs. Presently the estate is a family owned museum run by Will Wentworth, a man so uncannily identical to his ancestor that spirit-sensitive tour guide Julia Morrow has trouble recognizing Cole and Will as separate. As Julia begins to remember the events of Cole’s death, she must convince Will that history is repeating, and this time he has the starring role in the tragedy. The blade is about to fall.~
Somewhere My Love Won the Clash of the Covers Contest at Embrace The Shadows!“As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using the same 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 for Publisher’s Weekly
***Somewhere My Love is available in kindle and print at Amazon and  Barnes & Noble and in eBook at Kobo!

Why Do I Keep Getting Hooked On Canceled Shows? –Beth Trissel

Terra-NovaBecause we only have the cheapest dish option available, and live beyond the reach of cable out here in the country, I’ve gotten used to finding shows on Netflix or Amazon (I have Prime). After hours tapping away at my keyboard, I don’t want to see any more words, so kicking back to watch something appeals to me. Do I check in advance to see if–what everyone else already knows–my latest diversion is gonna leave me hanging–again? No. I blithely embark on a new adventure, only to discover that once more I have no idea how the cast of (insert name here) ultimately fares. Being an author, I’ve gotten so I just make up my own ending and go on. But it’s a little annoying. The family hear the wailing, and daughter Elise suggested double checking first, but that makes too much sense. She also suspects Amazon is throwing a lot of these canceled shows up on Prime (free) for a reason. (*Image from Terra Nova)

the-sarah-connor-chronicles-Yes, I love British mysteries and period shows/films, but for true escapism, there’s nothing like sci-fi fantasy/ paranormal. And these seem especially doomed.

Some of the shows I’ve liked and learned were canceled, some infamously, and the whole planet–except for me–was already in possession of this knowledge are:

Terra Nova: I loved the mix of sci-fi, futuristic with the Jurassic Park setting.  Guess I never lost that childhood fascination with dinosaurs. Sadly this great series only got one season. Which I discovered this week and am not happy about it.

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles Fascinating show. Two seasons before they ended. Abruptly.

jerichoThe Event: Very interesting concept, only got one season.

Firefly: Really enjoyed its one and only season. I saw on The Big Bang where Sheldon wrote the network to vehemently protest the show’s demise. And I add, the movie that came out later to try to make it up to us doesn’t cut it.

Survivors. Interesting show, bit of a stretch, but WTH? Totally left us hanging. Needed Season Three.  We’ll never know what happened to Tom, unless you want my version.

SurvivorsJericho:  Yes, I’m one of the people who like this show, though not until long after its hasty ending.  It got two seasons.

I currently like Grimm, so this may be its last season. Also a fan of Falling Skies and am amazed it’s hanging in there, but this last season wasn’t so great. Probably why. For you Walking Dead fans, luckily I found it too gory and only made it partway through Season One. I loved the cast, just not all those zombies and they have an alarming way of reappearing.  So it will, no doubt, go on forever.

The Inspiration Of Dreams On My Stories

“Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?” Alfred Lord Tennyson

~Years ago, a dream I had on New Year’s Eve–a highly propitious time for dreams–eventually evolved into ghostly Christmas romance Somewhere the Bells Ring.  This was the second time a dream on that significant Eve led to a story.  Historical romance novel Red Bird’s Song is the first book resulting from this powerful source of inspiration.  So profound was the impact of that dream, it compelled me to make the leap from writing nonfiction pieces about country life to historical romance novels.

The dream that inspired Somewhere the Bells Ring took place in the beautiful Virginia home place where my father grew up and I often visited over the years, a gracious Georgian style brick home, circa 1816.  As if I were watching a movie, I saw a young lady dressed in a long gown for a holiday party enter the room without a name.  All the rooms in this big old house have names except for this one.  Instead of the room appearing as it did in my day, it had transformed into an old-fashioned gentleman’s bedchamber with a fireplace, bookshelves lined with leather-bound volumes, high-backed armchairs, and an antiquated bed.  I later learned from my father that this is much how that room used to be in his grandfather’s time.  But I didn’t know that.

In the room, slumped on his knees before the crackling hearth, was a handsome dark-haired young gentleman attired in a suit that struck me as early 20th century style, but what impressed me most about him was his sadness.  The young woman, a guest in the house and in far better spirits than he, had unwittingly intruded on his grief. In her hands she held a dusty champagne bottle with a note affixed to it, seemingly left for him by his late wife.

The newcomer said she’d discovered it tucked among wine bottles in the cellar and thought it might cheer him.  It didn’t—at least, not at first.  But he read the note and took some comfort from it.  If I tell you what was written on that slip of paper I might spoil the story so I won’t.  But his deep grief, the note, and vividness of this dream, had such an impact on me that I pondered what story might come of it for years before writing Somewhere the Bells Ring.

New Year’s Eve is soon upon us.  Maybe I will come up with another story….

*Somewhere the Bells Ring is available in various eBook formats from The Wild Rose Press, Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook, and other online booksellers.

Announcing Winners of my Spook-A-Liscious Blog Hop

Thanks for all the great comments!  This has been a lot of fun.

The winners of my light paranormal romance Somewhere My Love are: Ashley, Gloria, Shadow and Laura H.  :)

Stay tuned for next month’s blog hop.

*And for those of you who didn’t win but would like the book, it’s for sale in print and or digital download pretty much everywhere online.  All the major booksellers and some not so major.  And if any of you buy books from KOBO please tell them to get my cover up!



Another Ghost Story

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Hamlet

This incident occurred about ten years ago at a friend’s home located very near our old farm-house that had the poltergeist–the account featured below in my Spook-A-Licious: Where Book-Ks Devour you Blog hop Tour post.

A friend of ours, George, had died of cancer and my mom and I were house sitting for his family the evening of his viewing at the funeral home (a popular tradition in the Shenandoah Valley) while his widow and children were there receiving friends, in case anyone came to the house during their absence. Mom and I were in the living room watching a nature show on TV (two weird guys catching highly venomous snakes) when we heard someone at the door, which we thought rather odd because we’d seen no car lights or heard a car pulling into the driveway, and this was out in the dark wintry countryside so no one was likely to walk over.  Then we both heard a male voice that sounded exactly like the deceased in the kitchen saying “Hello!” in the sing-song way he had of greeting people when he’d return to discover guests in his house.

I got up from the couch and rounded the corner to the dining room with the strongest impression that he’d just rounded it from the other direction, then poof he was gone. I sensed he realized his family wasn’t there and left immediately. I checked and no one was at the door, or in the house, or in the driveway.  The next evening after George’s funeral, (again, we had the strongest impression he was there enjoying every minute) the old grandfather clock that had stopped working and only he knew how to fix started working again.  The family was convinced he’d fixed it.  When I returned to the house several days later, I felt he’d gone on to heaven, and was no longer there.

***If you enjoyed this account, you might also enjoy this post:The Poltergeist in our Old Farm House

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

I Cannot See His Color from ‘The Village’

I thought the film The Village was fascinating and very well done, and really don’t care if reviewers weren’t all that wild about it.  An extremely creative concept for a movie and the actors were superb.

But I’m particularly taken with the soundtrack and am writing to it lately while I work on the new light paranormal romance in my ‘Somewhere’ series.  Here’s one of my favorites by composer James Newton Howard, entitled I Cannot See his Color. The very appealing heroine, Ivy, is blind but can see people’s auras or color.  Hauntingly beautiful music.  Exquisite violin.

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 


TOUR RULES: (I didn’t write them) :)



3)  THIS TOUR STARTS:  Monday, July 18, at Midnight (Arizona Time) THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, July 25, at Midnight (Arizona Time) Winners will be drawn and posted July 26th! ***




***Authors have full discretion to choose an alternate winner in the event any winner fails to claim their prize(s) within 72 hours of their name being posted or after notification of  win, whichever comes first. Anyone who participates in this blog hop tour is subject to these rules***

Undiscovered Treasure in the New World~

To quote Shakespeare, ‘All that glitters Is not gold,’ but SOME of it is.  The lure of buried treasure, an occasional flight of fancy for some and a soul-selling obsession for others, is an ageless fascination.  No soul bartering here, but I’ve done some research for would be treasure hunters and discovered  there are many yet undiscovered troves in America.  Apparently in every state according to the book Buried Treasures You Can Find by Robert F. Marx.   An interesting and informative read, however the font size decreases to minuscule proportions when Mr. Marx reaches the part of the book where he actually lists possible sites, so don’t expect me to recap without a magnifying glass.  Instead I’ll touch on some of his general  guidelines.  I, for one, would be happy to discover even a single gold doubloon , but it would have to wash ashore.  I’m not scuba diving.

Author Robert Marx has been treasure-seeking ever since he quit his newspaper route as a youth and has recovered an astonishing array of lost, hidden, or mislaid treasure both on land and plucked from the depths of the sea. First of all, he says you need a good metal detector and devotes pages to weighing the merits of various kinds.  Agreed, a premier detector would be fun to have, and considering I live in historic Virginia, I might actually find a Civil War button or something from the past which would thrill me.   Bear in mind that I’m easily delighted.  I once unearthed what I thought were shards of old pottery while planting a peach tree that turned out to be the remnants of an antiquated septic system.  Not very exciting.  However, my determination to dig the hole deeper in search of my imagined find got the tree planted in a hurry.  The most I’ve ever unearthed on our farm are old medicine bottles, but I’m fond of old bottles and have a kitchen windowsill filled with them.

The next step Mr. Marx advises after you’ve conducted a thorough study of metal detectors (I haven’t) and made your purchase is to learn how to use it properly and practice, practice.  Yada, yada,  we’re up to page 63 now–this book is for serious seekers–when he describes some of the most famous still to be discovered caches, also discussing WHY people bury treasure.    I assumed because they didn’t want thieves to find it, but there’s more.  In Colonial America banks were rare and often unavailable so most people buried money on their property.  Indians might suddenly attack  or the British were coming, so they prepared for calamities, possibly dying before recovering their money.

During the Civil War people in the South buried their treasures not only to keep them out of enemy hands but to avoid having to donate to the Confederate Treasury for the war effort.  As before, the ‘safest bank’ was a hole in the ground or some other secret location.  Some of the largest undiscovered treasures occurred during the Civil War: Excerpted from the book Civil War Gold & Other Lost Treasures by W. Craig Gaines. “The really big lost treasure is that of the Confederate Treasury in custody of Jeff Davis upon leaving Richmond, fleeing the Yankee hordes. Portions of it are believed to be in Greene & Morgan Counties of Georgia. The combined hoard is believed to be between $500,000 and $600,000 in gold, the combined values of the Richmond Bank & Confederate Treasury. Most made it to Washington, Georgia, but an untold amount remains unaccounted for.”

On the Western frontier, there were many cutthroats who preyed on hapless pioneers, and Lord knows those gold prospectors were justifiably paranoid.  So they kept their big strikes secret, some taking that knowledge with them to the grave.  And there were the gamblers, soldiers, saloon keepers…who hid their earnings.  Not to mention the stage-coach robbers who hid their  loot while escaping from the posse,  thinking to return for it later. But they didn’t all.   Get the picture?  Untold treasure is still out there–somewhere.

If you’re seeking a specific cache, and there are some famous ones, Mr. Marx says to first be certain it truly exists and isn’t the stuff of legend.  Would you believe some disreputable people will  try to sell you treasure maps that aren’t actually genuine.  *Shakes head.

Mr. Marx suggests seeking documentation recorded as closely to the time of the original event as possible and that old newspapers and books are a valuable resource.  If you’re just searching out potential historic sites, then he suggests ports, river banks, anywhere construction is moving earth, old homes, ghost towns, abandoned trash dumps from bygone days… Mr. Marx has oodles of suggestions and lists them by state.

***As a participating author in this Treasure Quest Blog Hop,  the book of mine that best fits the theme is light paranormal/time travel romance Somewhere My Lassin which the hero and heroine seek an ancient relic with miraculous powers.   So I’m giving away three digital downloads of this novella chosen from visitors who leaves me a comment (remember to leave a contact email too).

Blurb for Somewhere My Lass:

Neil MacKenzie’s well ordered life turns to chaos when Mora Campbell shows up claiming he’s her fiancé from 1602 Scotland. Her avowal that she was chased to the future by clan chieftain, Red MacDonald, is utter nonsense, and Neil must convince her that she is just addled from a blow to her head–or so he believes until the MacDonald himself shows up wanting blood.

Mora knows the Neil of the future is truly her beloved Niall who disappeared from the past. Although her kinsmen believe he’s dead, and she is now destined to marry Niall’s brother, she’s convinced that if she and Neil return to the past, all will be right. The only problem is how to get back to 1602 before it’s too late.

The balance of the present and future are in peril if she marries another, and the Neil of the present will cease to exist. An ancient relic and a few good friends in the future help pave the way back to the past, but will Mora and Neil be too late to save a love that began centuries before?~

Any treasure hunters out there?  If so, happy hunting!

****For the next stop on this Mega Author Blog Hop please pop into: http://iousex.blogspot.com/2011/07/treasure-quest-discovery-lies-between.html