by Babette James
An unexpected inheritance brings business consultant Christopher Gordon from Los Angeles to quaint Falk’s Bend. He’s carved a week from his demanding schedule to list his great-grandparents’ house for sale and explore his roots. However, disturbing family secrets and the sweet temptation of writer Margie Olsson derail his plans, challenging him to seize the elusive dream missing from his hectic life — love.
A recent brush with death shook Margie’s life, but not her dreams and she’s ready to move forward. Only, standing up to her loving, over-protective family isn’t easy. Helping Christopher explore the derelict mansion and unravel his grandmother’s mysterious past should be a harmless fun taste of independence. But when her experimental summer fling ignites into unexpected love, how can her small town dreams work with his big city life?
She tippy-toed after him up the side porch steps, careful to avoid putting the high heels of her sandals through the old wood. “We’re not wearing the best exploring clothes.” She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress. Both of them were dressed more for church or a dinner date.
He regarded her from beside the boarded front door, his steady gaze pausing on her mouth before flinching upward. “You look great. Really pretty in that peach color.” A flush rose in his cheeks, and he focused on sorting through the neatly labeled ring of keys.
Her own cheeks burned. Was he also remembering those kisses yesterday? “Thanks.”
Christopher removed the padlock and swung open both panels, revealing the screen doors and the original ornamented and leaded glass double entry doors, both curving into a graceful peaked arch like a church door.
“Oh, all the glass is safe. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Christopher nodded as he fit an old-fashioned key into the ornate brass lock. He gripped the doorknob and took a deep breath. “Ready?”
The hinges whined and creaked as he pushed the door inward. Daylight wedged into the short entry vestibule, revealing another doorway formed by elegant leaded glass sidelights and transom, and faded across the hardwood floor into the gloomy grand entry hall. Disturbed dust floated through the sunlight.
Christopher flicked on the flashlight and stepped into the once-majestic hall. Margie followed, nose wrinkling at the musty stale air. He swung the light upward, revealing an elaborate lamp fixture hanging from a plaster medallion, the crystal pendants festooned with spider webs. “Our very own haunted house, huh?”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Babette James writes sweetly scorching contemporary romance and loves reading nail-biting tales with a satisfying happily ever after. When not dreaming up stories, she enjoys playing with new bread recipes and dabbling with paints. A teacher, she loves encouraging new readers and writers as they discover their growing abilities. Her class cheers when it’s time for their spelling test! Born in New Jersey and raised in Southern California, she’s had a life-long love of the desert and going down the shore. Babette now lives in New Jersey with her wonderfully patient husband and extremely spoiled cats.
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