Archives for November 4, 2012


Hey folks!

A huge huge HUGE thank you to those of you who picked up Somebody to Love this week and left a couple of reviews–it means so, so much to me. You rock!

Here’s an excerpt from the novella.



Spirits’ Will


Marie paced away from the billiard room and James.
“I don’t want to hear any ghost stories.”

She heard his steps following and his smooth, deep
voice rumble, “Why’s that?”

She stopped abruptly and turned, lantern swinging in
her hand. “Because people always die in them.”

“Well…yes. That’s the point.”

“And that’s depressing. So no, no ghost stories, no
ghost hunting, no ghost talking, no ghost anything!” She snapped her
lips shut, regretting her outburst. He didn’t look any differently at her, of
course—expression didn’t change at all except to slip from teasing to more

And the sudden silence hanging between them didn’t
bother her, either. Tension rose but it wasn’t unpleasant—instead the air,
strangely, seemed to sizzle. Her heart fluttered as she was locked in
his blue eyes, held immobile by a sudden yearning for him. James was tall and
broad, with brown hair cut short, looking silky to the touch, and a hint of
stubble along his strong jaw. He stood casually but it did nothing to diminish
his stature, his strength.

They’d parted on bad terms, but no one would guess
just looking at him—he seemed like no time had passed. No one would guess the
hurt that hollowed her out and left her broken.

Marie looked away from the heat in his eyes and the
moment between them ended. Instead she moved for the front door. Some fresh air
would do her good—it might cool her suddenly flushed skin. She let the camera
hang from her shoulder again and reached for the door.

It didn’t budge.

She frowned and checked the lock. It was fine. Again
she twisted at the knob but to no avail—it was stuck, completely shut.

“Well.” James sighed behind her. “Guess you’re stuck
with me.”

Her temper flared. “Did you do this?” She turned back
to him and pointed at the door. “Seriously?”

His eyes widened but she didn’t believe him for a
second. “Such an accusation.” But her unyielding anger seemed to dawn on him at
last and he sobered. “It’s not me.” James walked past her, reached for the
door, and tried the knob only to have the same result she did.

Forget this—I’m finding another door. Marie shook her head and trekked away from him, down
the opposite hall. The floor creaked angrily, announcing her every movement,
and she didn’t care. She stalked past the stairs, the lantern swinging in her
hand, and down the corridor. She passed two closed doors and two archways
leading to dark rooms she didn’t spare a glance to. At the back of the house
she found another door and she stomped right up to it and grasped the handle.

This one didn’t open either.

Damn it! She
pounded with her free hand against the wood and it just kicked more dust up
that filled her lungs and tickled her nose. She coughed and stepped back,
glaring at the door as if that might open it. Her head throbbed and pain
stretched over the back of her neck. The fear creeping up in her was
overshadowed by exhaustion and she slumped against the wall by the door with a

Steps crossed the floor and while she continued
staring at the barred exit, she spoke to James. “You’re telling me that’s not
you? Keeping it shut? After all your ghost talk?” When silence followed, she
turned her tired eyes to him.

He cast a glance back at her. “No, it’s not me.”

“Then who’s doing it?”

His lips parted.

“Don’t say ghosts!”

“Okay. Spirits?”

I have to get out of here. Once again she pushed past him, still needing to clear her head. This
time she turned into the kitchen and set the lantern down, and stopped to look
outside. The windows showed a dark, overgrown lawn patterned with dry fallen
leaves, and pricks of stars in the sky. She leaned on the counter, peering up
at the starlight.

Damn him. He had to be keeping those doors shut somehow.

Marie slipped the camera off her shoulder, set it on
the counter, and her gaze trailed over the sink. Her throat was parched and her
skin was flushed still, whether from her quick temper or something else, she
didn’t know. Though she doubted she’d have success, she reached over and
fiddled with the dusty taps anyway.

Nothing. Nothing at all. Whether it was attached to a
well with a broken pump or the town line and it hadn’t been turned on with the
house being vacant, she didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. No water, damn it.

James’ footfalls sounded on the floor. She sighed and
turned around, pressed her back against the counter, and watched his approach.
His hands were knotted behind his back and he came nearer, nearer, until her
head tilted back so she could continue to meet his gaze. Scarce inches
separated them and for some reason her mind went wild wanting—

Stop. It. And get a hold of yourself. But that was easier said than done. She locked her
hands onto the counter’s edge and waited.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

“Taps don’t work and I didn’t bring anything. Wasn’t planning
on staying, but that was before someone locked me in.”

“I didn’t—”

But she didn’t want to hear it. She started to turn
away from him when his arm darted out, barring her path along with the bottle
he had in hand.

James said nothing but held still, offering the
bottle. At last she relented and took it, turned it back and forth in her
hands. The label was too faded to read.

“You didn’t pack wine,” she said.

“Maybe I did. Or maybe…” He seemed to be leaning
closer to her still and her heart leapt, the warmth of him enveloping her, his
voice dropping low against her ear. “I…stole it from the billiard room.”

Marie grinned. He was exceptionally good at melting
away her irritation though she was loath to admit it. “I don’t really want to
know what food you might’ve found in there too.”

“Nothing in there but I have sandwiches. They
were in my bag.”

Back in the billiard room. She clutched the wine
bottle to her chest. “How about eating in a different room?”

“Drawing room?”

She made a face. “Library?”

His expression sobered and he averted his gaze. “Oh.
Yeah, I think I passed it on my way.” He took her lantern and started from the

Marie watched his retreat for a moment, hugging the
old, sealed bottle of wine. Her head continued to ache but maybe some food
would make her feel better. Still, locked in here…

The twisting in her stomach told her this night wasn’t
going to end well.


The empty house at the end of Landsdowne Lane is
supposedly haunted.
Among the alleged ghosts is a couple who died
young and, legend has it, they possess the living and draw true love to the
house for a night of passion before dawn comes.
 Marie and James are about to find out if it’s

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