This year is also the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of World War I. My hero, Seth, was a witness to the terrible events of that war as an ambulance driver. Sara discovers his letters home in a trunk hidden in the attic of the island house she's renting.
Today's excerpt:
Sara was silent for a long moment and it was so quiet, she could hear the rain patter against the windows. “Seth, why are you here?”
“I thought you wanted to talk to me,” he said softly. He began to fade right before her eyes.
“No!” she replied quickly. “That’s not what I meant. Don’t go.”
Seth’s image returned to its previous state. “Then what do you mean?”
“I mean why are you a . . . you know . . .”
He looked faintly amused. “You can say it.”
“Why are you a ghost? Why haven’t you . . . moved on, or whatever happens?”
“Because I can’t.”
The teakettle whistled and Sara jumped.
Seth turned off the burner and poured the hot water into Sara’s mug.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed her the tin full of teabags and she wondered how long he had been watching her. Long enough to know where she kept everything in the kitchen, she thought, as he handed her the sugar bowl and a spoon he fished out of the silverware drawer.
“You’re . . . stuck?”
Seth nodded. “You could say that.”
Sara waited, but he didn’t add anything else. She concentrated on dunking her tea bag. “Are you the only one here?”
“Yes.”
The loneliness he must have felt for nearly a century made tears sting Sara’s eyes.
“Please don’t cry,” Seth said. “It’s my punishment. It’s what I deserve.”
“No, I—” She stopped and stared at him. “Your . . . uh . . . your legs are gone.”
He looked down. “I’m sorry. I’m running out of energy. I won’t be able to retain my visual representation much longer.”
Sara looked into his beautiful blue eyes and thought it was a damn shame. Something on her face must have told him what she was thinking because he grinned and she blushed scarlet. She put a hand up over her forehead and ducked her face to shield it.
“Don’t,” Seth said softly. “Please. I haven’t made a pretty girl blush in nearly a century.”
Pretty. Really? He thinks I’m pretty?
.¸¸•.¸¸.•´¯`• (¯`•ღ•´¯)•´¯`•.¸¸.•.¸¸.
Sara was silent for a long moment and it was so quiet, she could hear the rain patter against the windows. “Seth, why are you here?”
“I thought you wanted to talk to me,” he said softly. He began to fade right before her eyes.
“No!” she replied quickly. “That’s not what I meant. Don’t go.”
Seth’s image returned to its previous state. “Then what do you mean?”
“I mean why are you a . . . you know . . .”
He looked faintly amused. “You can say it.”
“Why are you a ghost? Why haven’t you . . . moved on, or whatever happens?”
“Because I can’t.”
The teakettle whistled and Sara jumped.
Seth turned off the burner and poured the hot water into Sara’s mug.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed her the tin full of teabags and she wondered how long he had been watching her. Long enough to know where she kept everything in the kitchen, she thought, as he handed her the sugar bowl and a spoon he fished out of the silverware drawer.
“You’re . . . stuck?”
Seth nodded. “You could say that.”
Sara waited, but he didn’t add anything else. She concentrated on dunking her tea bag. “Are you the only one here?”
“Yes.”
The loneliness he must have felt for nearly a century made tears sting Sara’s eyes.
“Please don’t cry,” Seth said. “It’s my punishment. It’s what I deserve.”
“No, I—” She stopped and stared at him. “Your . . . uh . . . your legs are gone.”
He looked down. “I’m sorry. I’m running out of energy. I won’t be able to retain my visual representation much longer.”
Sara looked into his beautiful blue eyes and thought it was a damn shame. Something on her face must have told him what she was thinking because he grinned and she blushed scarlet. She put a hand up over her forehead and ducked her face to shield it.
“Don’t,” Seth said softly. “Please. I haven’t made a pretty girl blush in nearly a century.”
Pretty. Really? He thinks I’m pretty?
.¸¸•.¸¸.•´¯`• (¯`•ღ•´¯)•´¯`•.¸¸.•.¸¸.
About the book:
Newly single, unemployed, and with her savings dwindling to an all-time low, Sara thinks things are finally looking up when she lands a job ghostwriting a popular politician’s biography, and rents the affordable island home of her favorite author, Seth Fortner, who mysteriously disappeared in 1925. Strange things begin to happen as objects break, go missing, and terrifying visions appear, making Sara wonder if Seth ever left, or if she is slowly losing her mind.
She gets no answers from his family who closely guards the secret of his disappearance. Through an old trunk of letters Sara discovers in the attic of her seaside cottage, Sara unravels the mystery and becomes caught up in a tale of greed, lost love, and the horrors of WWI. Will she be the one to break the “Fortner Curse” by helping Seth conquer his demons, and heal both of their hearts in the process?
Available from:
TWCS
Abe Books
Powell's
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