When by-the-numbers accountant Rob
Morrison, a skeptic of all things paranormal, moves into a new apartment and
discovers it is haunted by the corporeal ghost of a beautiful woman, he must
hastily reconsider his beliefs and revisit his painful past.
With no memory of her time on
earth, Angie Barsotti doesn’t understand why she’s compelled to visit the same
apartment every night as a ghost caught between two worlds. If she’s to have a
chance to move on, she needs to find the missing pieces of her life and death
through the man who lives there…if only he’d believe in her.
Together they struggle to find the
truth about her death and stumble upon a very pleasurable way to time travel,
hopeful they can prevent her death. But someone doesn’t want them to discover
the truth. And if she’s human again, will she have any memories of her time as
a ghost…and more importantly, will she remember the man who helped her find her
way?
Here's an excerpt to get you started:
Angel’s body tingled. Her skin rippled with electricity, and she
recognized the signs that she’d be transported soon.
Yes. Finally. She closed her
eyes, wishing she could rush the transition from her world to his. Cool air
prickled her skin and she stood in the man’s dark apartment. With moonlight
shining through the sheers, she could make out his form on the sofa.
He jumped up and faced her.
She wanted to speak, but she couldn’t.
“The electricity went off again,” he said.
She frowned.
He stepped closer. “Ghosts don’t exist.”
No. He couldn’t banish her again. She needed something in this world. The
lights flickered, sizzled, and then went off again.
Please don’t tell me to go away; it
makes me go away. She might not have a voice in this world, but she could
at least think it. She would not go, not when potential answers waited in this place.
The man stepped closer. “What are you doing? Angie, why do you keep
coming here?”
Don’t tell me to leave…don’t tell
me to leave. Pictures flew into her mind. People smiling and laughing. A
tree in the corner with white lights and boxes under it….
He’d called her Angie.
“You know me?” Her words came out a whisper, but at least they finally
came out. Tears tracked down her cheeks. The electricity flickered on, and then,
stayed off. The air stopped sizzling. She blinked to adjust her eyes to the
darkness again.
“Christ, this can’t be happening.” He moved his fingers over something in
his hand and then pocketed it.
She closed the distance between them and grasped his upper arms, pleading
him with her eyes because her voice had left her again.
“Yes, I know you.” He glanced away and looked out the window, let out a
huff of breath, and then gazed at her. “Your name is Angie Barsotti and you
used to live here.”
No wonder the place felt so familiar. Her spirits lifted. He could help
her find out who she was, help her find out what was going on.
“And,” he dragged a hand through his hair. “You died and I don’t believe
in ghosts.”
Cold air, cold as ice tore through her, ripping her from the apartment.
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Hi Christi! Thanks very much for sharing this, and for your kind words!! And thanks soooo much for Beta reading this story for me and making it as good as it could be. :)
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