I have loved getting the chance to share excerpt from the Spiritus Series with all of you this week! I will always have a soft spot for Alastor...

Excerpt
​
It was a sweet moment, dancing together under the paper streamers and balloons.  I could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt and jacket as we danced, reminding me that this was real.  This was now.

“What are you thinking?”  Jonah asked, leaning his head down so our foreheads touched.  I could smell the scent of mints on his breath and the woodsy scent of his aftershave on his jaw.

I inhaled the reality of him, “Nothing.  I’m just savoring the moment.”

I expected him to laugh, but he didn’t.  He pulled me closer, seeming to ignore how I stepped all over his feet.  He brought his cheek next to mine, caressing my skin with the youthful shadow of a beard.

“I like the sound of that.”  He whispered.

He tilted his head then, kissing me softly with boyish clumsiness.  His arm tightened around me as his lips lingered for a moment before he pulled away.

I fought the guilt that was trying to steal over me, but I shook it off.  I felt myself turning a deep red, humiliated by my lack of experience.  I was sure that was the worst kiss and that Jonah had ever had and he was going to realize he was wasting his time with me.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ashley watching us with narrowed eyes.  She would have known how to kiss him the right way.

If Jonah was disappointed, he hid it well, holding me in his arms until the song ended and then leading me off to the side of the room.  I followed him without question, painfully aware all of a sudden of how large my feet were and that my palm was sweating inside of his.

“Thirsty?”  Jonah asked with that charming smile that always made my heart stop and start in a crazy way.

“Sure.”  I answered with a nervous giggle and then cursed myself for being a complete goof.
As if he could tell what I was thinking his smile widened, “Punch okay?”

His self-confidence made me feel even more awkward.  “That’s fine.”

I watched Jonah walk away, calling and waving to his friends as he went over to the refreshment table.  I fanned my face with my hands, trying to make the redness disappear.

Ally, with Billie in tow, bounced up beside me.  “I can’t believe he kissed you!  Was it great?  Is he like the best kisser ever?”

“I don’t have much to compare him to.”  I replied, hoping to downplay the whole thing before the whole school overheard.  I couldn’t dare tell them that a century ago, I was kissed in a way that made my knees go weak and were a far cry from being boyish and clumsy.  “But it was nice.”

Billie nudged my shoulder, “What was nice was the look on Ashley’s face.  She was dying.”

I stole a glance over at Ashley.  She stood in a circle of her minions.  Despite her obvious and complete beauty, she was a picture of misery as she shot daggers in my direction.  It seemed even her upper lip twitched like a dog snarling.  I had to look away from her fury.

“She looks like she’s about ready to explode.”  I whispered.

I wasn’t admitting, even to myself, that I enjoyed seeing her like that.  It wasn’t every day someone like me got the upper hand on someone like Ashley.  There was probably a law about it somewhere in the natural order of things that went against this even happening.  It was the rarity of such an occurrence that made it all the more significant.

Just then Jonah appeared with two paper cups of bright red punch.  He smiled with ease, “Hello ladies.”

“Hi Jonah.”  Ally and Billie replied in unison.  They each gave a quick wave and walked away full of giggles.

I pretended not to notice and took the cup Jonah offered.  I couldn’t look up at him and I didn’t know what it was I was really supposed to do.  Was I standing too close to him?  Too far away?  Should I take his hand, or should I just let my hand hang at my side so he could hold it if he wanted to?

I took a sip of punch, more out of the need to do something than actual thirst, and felt the burn of alcohol in my throat.  I struggled to swallow, coughing until my eyes watered.

Jonah stroked my back gently, “I’m sorry.  I should have warned you that a couple of guys from the football team always puts a little something extra in the punch.”

“It’s okay.”  I gasped, humiliated beyond belief.  “I think I’ll just step out in the hall and get some water.”

I walked off before he could follow me, dying of embarrassment and certain that I had proved what a little kid I was.  He was just so perfect, and I was so—Not perfect.

I drank long gulps from the water fountain.  It extinguished the burning in my throat, but it did nothing to silence the voice in my head that was telling me I was doing everything wrong.  What was wrong with me?  Was I really this socially incompetent?

How hard could it be?  This is what I was supposed to want, right?  Jonah was good looking, popular, and charming in his small town hero sort of way.  What more could I ask for?

Alastor’s voice reverberated inside my head, “He’s not me…”

I jumped at the sound of his secret voice.  I looked around even though I knew that he wouldn’t be standing there, his tantrum earlier would have left him too weak.

“Go away,” I whispered aloud.  “Don’t ruin this for me.  Let me have this night.”

I waited, straining to hear if Alastor would answer, but there was nothing.  I turned to go back to the dance, knowing I should want to return to Jonah, but part of me wished Alastor would answer.

Ashley stepped from around the corner, blocking my way.  She crossed her arms and glared down at me.

“Talking to yourself Becca?”  She asked sarcastically, emphasizing my name. 

“What do you want Ashley?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, “I just wanted to give you some advice.”

“What?”

“Don’t get too comfortable with Jonah.”  Ashley smirked, almost purring as she stepped closer.  “He’ll get tired of you.  You’re not his type.  He’ll come back to his own kind soon enough.”

I hated it that she was giving a voice to my own insecurities, “Whatever Ashley.”

She reached out and grabbed my arm as I tried to get past her, “Just remember, your day is coming.”

I pulled away just as one of the chaperones stepped into the hall.  I took my escape while I could, knowing she couldn’t say or do anything else at the moment, and headed back toward the gym.

I had no idea how long I had been standing in the hallway drinking water, talking to invisible spirits, and arguing with disgruntled cheerleaders, but when I got back inside the gym the music seemed louder and the flashing lights brighter.

At first I didn’t see Jonah.  The crowd kept shifting back and forth, blocking my view.  I finally spotted him off to the side, away from the bulk of the people.  Ashley found him before I did and had him backed against the bleachers.  I was just about to run away and find a nice dark place to cry when Jonah stepped away from her with a look of disgust.

“Why don’t you back off Ashley?”  He slurred as he staggered over to me.  He swayed a little from side to side as he smiled down at me.  “I was just about ready to send a search party out for you.”

“Sorry.”  I said as I reached up to stop him from falling right into me.  “Are you okay?”

He staggered a little to the right, “Yeah that Ashley just gets under my skin.  She doesn’t know when to shut up and go away.”

I took his paper cup from him and tossed it into the trash.  I was a bit taken back to see that it was a large metal drum lined with a large black trash bag.  Things in Corydon never failed to surprise me.

“That’s not what I was talking about,” I replied, wiping my hands on the front of my dress before I could stop myself.  “How many of those have you drank?”

Jonah blushed, looking vulnerable for the first time tonight.  “I am so sorry.”

I didn’t know what to say.  I helped steady him on his feet.  “Are you going to be alright?”

Jonah shook his head, this time leaning dangerously to the left.  He tried to smile with his famous charm, “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not really.”  He said with a stupid grin.  He pulled himself up straighter, “Why don’t I go splash some water on my face.  Will you wait for me?”

“Sure.”

I watched him lurch off, trying to compose himself as he walked past the group of teachers by the door.  Even intoxicated, he was amazing to watch.  Jonah drew the admiring glances of every female he passed.  He was just so stereotypically high school perfect.

I had to laugh; he and I were like a bad movie.  The predictable one where the new girl, unpopular, falls for the school jock and then the jock takes her to the dance.  So that was it, tonight was my happy ending.  I didn’t want to think any further than that.

Happy endings never lasted.  I could vaguely remember a grand celebration where I danced with Alastor so long ago.  That was a very happy moment, but not long after that we were both dead.

“May I have this dance?”

I turned to see a much recovered Jonah holding his hand out to me.  Without a word, I placed my hand in his and let him lead me to the dance floor.  His strong arms pulled me close, holding me against his body.

“My beautiful Becca,” He said in a moist whisper against my forehead.

I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t.  When I stole a glance up at him he had his eyes closed while his lips still rested against my hair.  I felt that there was something that I should say or do, but I didn’t know what it could be.  I shifted slightly away from him.

“Don’t.”  Jonah begged. 

Without opening his eyes, he lowered his lips to mine.  He brushed his mouth over mine with such gentleness that I wouldn’t have been sure that he even kissed me if it wasn’t for the tingling running through my body.

Neither of us moved, his lips hovered over mine.  He pulled me even closer, this time his lips lingered, making my knees go weak.  There was a sensual passion this time.  There was no trace of boyish clumbsiness.

I knew then and pulled away, terrified and not sure how he did it.

“Alastor!”  I gasped.

I looked up into Jonah’s face, searching his eyes for an answer, but behind his face, deep in the soul of those eyes was Alastor.

“How?”  Was all I could ask.

Pulling me close again, he looked down at me through another man’s eyes.  Images of old movies with tearful endings came to mind as he pulled me to him.

“Please don’t scream.”  He said against my hair.

“How did you do it?”  I demanded, nearing hysteria.

“Does it matter?”  He asked as we waltzed about the floor, so much more graceful than before.  “You asked for a kiss and I gave it to you.”

I tried to fend off panic.  I knew this was impossible.  I was shaking so badly that my teeth began to chatter.  “Alastor…I can’t…”

“Please,” Alastor begged.  “Please, you asked me to give you this one night.  I’m asking you to give me this one moment.”

My heart fell with his request and the tears came to my eyes.  I trembled in his arms.  How could I refuse him?
“What do you want me to do?”  I asked.

“Close your eyes.”  He whispered over my eyelids.

I did as he asked.  “Now what?”

“Just be.”  He said and lowered his face so our cheeks touched.  “Just be.”

With my eyes closed, I forgot all about Jonah.  I was dancing safe and secure in Alastor’s arms with my body remembering his touch even my mind sometimes couldn’t.  As long as I didn’t open my eyes, it was Alastor that was holding me close.  This is where I belonged.

“Kiss me again.”  I requested in a whisper, longing for the sensation of him touching me, of crossing that breach between life and death.

He took my face into his hands.  I kept my eyes shut tight as I reached up and covered his hands with mine.  The earth shifted beneath me as I remembered standing just like this the day that we were married over a century ago.
Alastor’s lips met mine, soft at first and then harder.  He was real.  He was alive. 

I wanted to feel his skin against mine.  I wanted his lips on my throat.  I wanted him.  It was a feeling that only the most primal part of me seemed to understand.

I kissed him again and again.  I kept my eyes shut tight and was afraid to let go.  I couldn’t breathe, part of me was still terrified and another part wanted to sob uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry.”  I whimpered, trying to hold on tighter.  “I’m so sorry for everything.”

He kissed me again and I knew that there would never be another.  There was only Alastor.  It was only Alastor that I loved.  It was only Alastor to whom I belonged.  It was Alastor to whom I was lost.
 

It was nearing midnight when Billie and Ally dropped me off at home. I waved to them as I walked up the stone walkway, cringing as their tires squealed when they pulled away.

Dad must have left the porch light on for me before he went up to bed. I stood in its yellow glow and fumbled with my bags as I searched my pockets for my key.

“Do you hate me now?” Alastor’s voice echoed in the darkness.

I didn’t look up, afraid I’d see him materialized somewhere near me.

“I don’t hate you,” I confessed.

He was close to me. I could see his shadow on the concrete, achingly familiar. He moved closer so that our two shadows became one.

“Would you walk with me?” He asked.

“Where to?”

“It’s not far,” he pleaded.

I shifted the bags in my hands, “What am I supposed to do with these?”

His shadow motioned toward the house, “Put them inside.”

“I can’t,” I sighed. “I don’t know where my key is.”

There was a deep chuckle and the shadow at my feet disappeared. Before I could even look around, I heard the lock turning, and the front door opened wide.

Alastor stepped out into the moonlight, solid enough I could hear the sound of his clothing moving against his skin. He smiled a crooked grin and cocked one eyebrow.

“You were saying?” He teased.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I placed my purchases inside the door, careful not to touch him as I moved past.
“Being dead does have its advantages.”

I looked up at him, taken back that he would make light of his own death. Alastor only bowed and swept his hand wide.

“Shall we?” He asked.

I didn’t hesitate this time. I stepped off the porch and back onto the stone walk with him at my side.

“So where are we going?” I asked.

“Follow me, my love.” He purred.

Hearing his voice in that exact moment, I knew I would follow him anywhere.

I walked beside him, acutely aware of how solid he was at that moment, knowing that anyone would be able to see him if they looked out their windows. He was beautiful in a way that made my heart ache.

“Alastor, can I ask you something?”

He looked up into the night sky, the shadows from the streetlight playing across his face, “Of course.”

“How are you doing it? How are you this real? Why are you suddenly able to touch me? Why was everyone able to
see you that day at school?”

He smiled, “I don’t know, perhaps it was a one-time thing.”

“Seriously?”

“I have a theory,” he said. “I feel stronger when we’re together, especially when you’re thinking about me as a man and not as a ghost, but it makes me very tired to be this real for you.”

“So will you ever be able to stay like this?”

“No,” He sighed and looked out into the darkness again. “I told you, it’s just an illusion. It’s not real.”

We walked in silence. Our strides matched one another. It was easy and natural, like a forgotten memory that wouldn’t go away.

Alastor was perfectly at ease, completely comfortable in the darkness. He walked only inches away from me, if I turned my hand just a little we would touch

It was strange to be so close to him when he was this strong. I couldn’t help but to steal a look at him as we walked along. He looked straight ahead, glancing at me only occasionally, I suppose to make certain I was still with him. He had the sleeves of his shirt cuffed up to his elbows, and his forearms were surprisingly muscular in a lean sort of way.
There was something about those naked arms made me blush and look away.

When I looked up at him again, he met my gaze. He was looking down at me, watching me closely for some reason. Whatever it was brought a sad melancholy to his eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“Where are we going?” I demanded.

He smiled down at me, making my heart flutter. “It’s just ahead.”

We turned and stepped up to a set of iron gates. I looked up and read the arching letters.
 
CEDAR HILL CEMETARY
 
“What are we doing here?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer. He walked through the gates in silence, not even looking back to see if I was following. The darkness of the night seemed to just swallow him up as he moved away from me.

I stood for a moment in the pale glow of the solitary streetlight, unsure if I should follow or not. In the distance I heard a dog barking in a backyard nearby, but other than that the night was unsettlingly quiet.

Not wanting to walk home alone, I followed him up into the cemetery, allowing myself to be consumed by the dark.

“Alastor?” I called to him, “Where are you?”

“Over here,” he answered to my right.

I turned toward his voice and I could just make out his ebony silhouette against the black sky. I stumbled over to him, eager to stand near his solid form and suffer the sweet torment of being so close to him.

“So why are we here?” I asked, feeling the slight chill in the air for the first time. I crossed my arms over my chest.
Alastor pointed to the headstone in front of us, “This is where my body lies.”

I didn’t want to look where he pointed, but my eyes were drawn to the headstone. I had seen it once before, but now the sight of it stirred something deeper inside of me. It wasn’t the grave of a faceless person anymore; it was the final resting place of the being standing next to me.

“You did that to me,” Alastor said flatly without accusation. “Even that was less painful than this.”

I looked up at him confused. He met my gaze with soft dejected eyes.

“Is that why you’re back?” I asked, “Be honest. Have you come back to get your revenge?”

Alastor chuckled and gave me a gentle smile, “It’s always a battle with you. It’s been that way from the first day that I saw you.”

He moved so he could lean back against the headstone, “You hated me at first or maybe you just thought I was a pest. I guess it wasn’t so different than it is now.

A vision of Alastor flashed behind my eyes. I could see him long ago, alive and whole. He was dramatically bowing to me, the sun giving his hair a slight copper glint, and I could remember that other me thinking that he was a fool.
Alastor nodded as if he could hear my thought and memories.

“Then one day I said something, I don’t remember what, but it made you smile and I knew then and there that I wanted to spend the rest of my life making you smile.”

I looked up at him in the darkness and tried to remember back to that me from another time. I could picture myself walking down the sidewalk and seeing Alastor up ahead. I remembered thinking I should ignore him, but there was a little skip in my heartbeat at the sight of him.

In my memories, Alastor stood near the edge of the street. I lifted my chin as I walked by, ignoring his greeting.

“Good morning, ma’am.” He had said as he watched me approach.

Just as I was about to pass, while trying to perform one of his ridiculous bows, he stumbled and fell backwards into a water trough.

I giggled in the darkness at the memory of it.

“It wasn’t anything that you said,” I whispered. “You fell into a horse trough.”

Alastor smiled and looked down at his feet, “I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that part.”

We were quiet for a moment and then another cold breeze came to remind me that it was getting cooler and I was standing in a cemetery at night.

“Alastor, why are you back?” I demanded, “And why did you bring me here?”

“When we got married, I thought that we’d be happy forever.” He said with a sigh, “Then I went off with the army and everything changed.”

Alastor turned and looked down at his own grave, “I was supposed to shoot and kill men that were not really much more than boys. You could hear them crying and calling for their mothers as they lay dying. Even when I came home, and the war was over, I could still hear them crying.”

I never knew that ghosts could feel pain, but as I watched his luminous blue eyes filled with tears. I felt the frustrated helplessness and wondered if this was how I felt back then.

Alastor turned his watery gaze on me, “Then came the whiskey and the women.”

“I don’t want to hear about that.” I snapped, feeling the familiar burn of jealously, “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Yes it does!” He said with wild eyes, “I am here because of you, don’t you understand that?”

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach, “Of course I understand it. I killed you and now you’re back to get even with me.”

Alastor was next to me in a flash. It hit me then that I may very well die then and there.

“You don’t see,” he said. “I am here because of you. I was a horrible husband, going into the beds of other women and being a shameful drunk, and I drove you to what you did.”

I looked up at him, trying to understand it all. He didn’t blame me for his death? How was that even possible?
Alastor took another step towards me, almost as if he were about to take me into his arms, but then changed his mind.

“I saw you when they arrested you,” he confessed. “I tried to go to you and tell you that I forgave you and that I was so sorry for everything that happened, but I only seemed to frighten you. I think I frightened you so badly that you took your own life and it broke my heart that you were then damned.”

“Damned?”

“I knew you were damned because I never saw you after that,” he said. “I waited here for so long, but you never came until that day I heard you call to me and I knew that you had returned.”

“The séance…” I whispered with realization.

Alastor nodded and smiled, “And that’s when I knew.”

“When you knew what?”

He came around to stand behind me. I could feel the cold energy radiating off of him.

“That’s when I knew that we belonged together. War, adultery, and murder have been unable to tear us apart.”

I felt a tingling sensation on my head as he stroked my hair.

“No matter what,” he whispered. “You belong to me.”

Before I could say anything, there was a blast of frigid air and he was gone. I turned in a circle, searching the darkness, but I was alone.

I sighed and began my walk home, knowing he was watching me from somewhere and also wondering how this could ever end happily.
​

Paranormal romance can be so much more than vampires or shifters, more and more authors are creating dark stories featuring other creations. This week I'm highlighting my reincarnation romance, Spiritus which is FREE right now on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords.

Excerpt

Alastor was amazing in solid form. I just couldn’t get accustomed to the sight of him even though I had been staring at him for hours.

He was breathtaking to look at, his skin so detailed I could almost make out a faint stubble on his cheek and all about him clung the faint scent of the outdoors, tinged with a slight aroma of honeysuckle. He was lying beside me, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal lean, but muscular arms. Now and then I would catch a glimpse of his bare chest through the open collar of his shirt.

It was strange, but just the sight of that small bit of naked flesh made me blush. I tried not to look, but every time I glanced over my blood would burn at the teasing glimpse of phantom skin.

His lips would twitch into a smile every so often, the action making him even more handsome. I wondered what it was exactly that would make a ghost smile. When I asked, he only smiled wider and confessed that he never thought this day would come.

I was getting so sleepy. Head splitting yawns kept overtaking me, but I stayed sitting up in bed with him stretched out beside me just like a real person.

It was one thing to have him appear in my room or speak to me in his ghostly voice, but that was nothing compared to the delicious thrill of having him so close.

He still seemed too good to be true, too perfect and beautiful to really be there. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
Hesitantly, so afraid he would fade again into the shadows, I reached my hand out to touch his.

“Don’t!” He commanded and pulled away. The doors to my bathroom shut with enough force to rattle them on their hinges.

I drew back at his reprimand. His voice was so harsh. I felt it vibrate through me. I glanced back at his face. He was watching me with extreme intensity. I fought the urge to run away from him. After all, where could I hide that he couldn’t find me?

Pulling up my legs and wrapping my arms around them, I tried not to focus on the sting of his rebuff.

“Why not?” I demanded.

Alastor held my gaze, but his eyes became dark and sad. “Because what you see is not real. It takes so much strength to be this way for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m here with you, but this image of me is just that—Only an image, an illusion. I don’t know what would happen if you tried to touch me.”

I turned over what he said in my mind. A frustrated sigh escaped my lips.

“What is it?” He asked in a whisper as if being careful not to frighten me again.

“I can’t even touch you,” I answered, more than a little surprised by the note of emotion cracking in my voice.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered in a low and soothing tone.

“I know it’s stupid,” I apologized. “It’s just frustrating that we can’t even touch.”

A smile turned up the corners of his flawless lips, “Is that what you want?”

I looked down at his perfect face with his teasing blue eyes. Suddenly, I wanted very much just to be able to touch his hand.

“Yes,” I confessed. “I would like that.”

His smile grew wider, “Then I shall try to do as you wish.”

Even though I was watching him, and he never moved an inch, I suddenly felt invisible fingers traveling down my neck and arms. I jumped and looked around, but there was nothing visibly touching me. I felt a scream rising in my throat as the sensation died away.

Before I could recover, I felt the world shift and suddenly I was back in time and standing at the window. I was looking down and watching for Alastor to come home. I could feel the wetness on my cheeks and remembered thinking back then that I had cried so many tears waiting for him to come home.

The image spun around and was replaced by Alastor and I arguing on the staircase. He was moving toward the door and I was following him with my skirts gathered into my hands. I felt myself calling after him, but there was no sound. He turned back to me once he reached the door and ordered me to stop my hysterics. Alastor walked out the door and it slammed behind him. A coldness swept over me and my tears ceased at that very moment.

I was spinning again, this time further back, to me in Alastor’s arms. I closed my eyes as he reached out his hand and touched my face. I knew that touch; it brought me back to my room where Alastor the spirit was with me.
“I’m sorry,” Alastor said without changing expression. “I was trying to give you what you wanted.”

I took a few deep breaths and tried to slow my pounding heart, “It just startled me. I remembered so much about us all at once. It was a little overwhelming.”

He looked at me intently, “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Do you trust me?”

Did I trust him?

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

The invisible fingers were back again, caressing my hair, my face. There was no warmth to the touches, just a constant tingling sensation over my skin. I was watching him, but he never moved, even as unseen hands lifted strands of my hair.

“I have waited for you for so long,” he said with serious eyes.

I didn’t know how to respond to that, but a part of me loved hearing it. I allowed him to keep his ghostly fingers in my hair, not moving, even as he rose up on one elbow.

“Are you still not afraid?” He asked, suddenly seeming just as unsure as I was.

“I am afraid,” I confessed. “But not of you.”

He leaned closer to me. If he were an actual living person, I would have been able to feel his breath on my shoulder. The tingling sensations were still moving over my body, but I was unable to move. His luminous blue eyes held me there.

“Then what are you afraid of?” He whispered.

I could smell the scent of summer about him, noticing how it shifted from sun and honeysuckle to the clean smell of rain. I opened my eyes and inhaled deeply.

“I’m afraid because I want to be near you and I don’t understand why.” I blurted out without thinking, “I know what you are and why you are here, and that I should be afraid of you, but I’m not.”

“And why should you be afraid my love?” He asked while holding me with his powerful gaze, “I am, after all, just a spirit. What could I possibly do to you?”

My heart skipped a beat. Was he honestly asking me to give him ideas on how to destroy me? If he was here for revenge, I wasn’t going to help him out.

“Are you here for revenge? To make me pay for what I did to you?”

“That was many years ago.”

“Why did I shoot you?” I demanded.

The air in the room changed, from nowhere there came a breeze to rock the chandelier and flutter the papers on my desk.

“Must we discuss that?” He hissed.

The room was erupting in chaos. It seemed everything I owned was spinning about the room suspended in midair.

The invisible fingers were gone. I pulled away, backing against my headboard, and preparing for the worst.

Minutes passed before the chandelier stopped its back and forth motion and the frantic flapping of books and papers stopped. The glow of his beautiful eyes faded and they became shaded in silence.

His outburst had weakened him. He was no longer as solid. The illusion had been broken.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered and his smooth voice was like a caress. “I would die a thousand deaths before I would hurt you.”

I wanted to believe him even as I watched the last sheet of paper flutter to the ground.

“You have no reason to be afraid,” he whispered as his image flickered and swayed. It seemed to me he was trying to convince the both of us.

“Forgive me, my Becca,” he said stiffly. “I will be the perfect gentleman the rest of the evening.”

He moved closer, waiting for me to say something, but still I couldn’t make my lips form words. He kept his eyes riveted on mine which was almost as unsettling as his outburst.

“It won’t happen again, I promise,” he vowed.

His eyes were apologetic, but still I was cautious. I nodded apprehensively and tried to smile.

Alastor’s responding smile was teasing, “You must understand that this is difficult for me as well.”

“How so?”

“Well in your mind, we are meeting for the first time,” he explained. “But to me, you are and always will be my wife. For me, it’s as if I must court you all over again.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I confessed. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he said with a tragic smile. “I have a second chance to win your heart.”

I blushed. His words sounded as if they came straight from a romance novel.

Alastor seemed pleased with my reaction, “So, where were we?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I offered, not wanting to upset him again.

“No, no,” he said gently. “You wanted to know why you killed me.”

I fought the immediate feelings of guilt and told myself this was something that I very much needed to know.

He seemed to pause in thought for a moment and then he smiled, ashamed. “Shall we just say that some mistakes are built to last?”

His answer made no sense to me. It told me nothing about the events that brought us to this point.

“So, you don’t hate me?” I asked.

Alastor smiled again, “Love and hate. Those two emotions so often feed off one another. That would be the tale of my life.”

He wasn’t really answering my question, but I didn’t press him I tried to keep my eyes trained on the shifting vision of him.

“I’ve wanted to hate you.” Alastor confessed. “When you touched where my blood spilled, I felt you, I felt the passage of the years, and I tried so hard to hate you. I thought if I hated you, it would be easier.”

He looked at me then, his eyes so bitter, and I felt his need to hate me. I was afraid to ask what it was that was made easier if he could hate me.

“I did try to hate you,” he offered.

I shifted on the bed, unsure where this conversation was going. “I believe you.”

“And then I heard your voice,” he said with an amused smile. “I heard your voice and I was right back to where I began, miserably in love with you.”

It was so beyond anything I had ever imagined to have a ghost in my darkened bedroom declaring himself to me.

“I would come to watch you as you slept, thinking that was when I could get closest to you, but you always sensed that I was near and would awake.” He seemed embarrassed to admit this to me, “Even then, I was still trying to hate you.”
This time I felt a stab of pain when he said that. He had every reason to hate me.

Alastor was becoming stronger again, “Then you nearly drowned and I knew that it was hopeless. I will love you until the end of time and beyond.”

My heart was pounding in reaction to the word “love”. There were so many questions I still wanted to ask him, but only one resounded over and over.

“So what happens now?” I asked.

Alastor moved closer to me the way only a ghost could, not only the vision of him moved, but also the very air of the room shifted with him. I looked into his face, the illusion of the moonlight over the contours of his faultless face, the detail in the faint shadows under his eyes, and his perfect lips parted as if ready to speak.

His eyes locked on my own and they reflected nothing but intensity. I didn’t fear him at the moment, on the contrary, my pulse quickened and a lump rose into my throat.

“May you close your eyes please?” Alastor requested.

I immediately obeyed him, holding my breath.

There was a great shift in the air, a roar and pull like the ocean only silent. Again, came the invisible hands, over my hair and neck. The sensation so real as long as I kept my eyes tightly shut.

And then I felt the tingling sensation over my lips, soft and fragile as the wings of a butterfly, but a kiss none the less.
It was a teasing touch that made me long for more. I wanted to pull him to me. I wanted to lock my fingers in his hair. I wanted—I wanted him, but I knew if I reached for him there would be nothing there.

As my heart pounded in my ears, I felt that dizzy, falling feeling again as the visions returned. I fell back into that other me, the me with the weight of heavy skirts swirling around me. That other me was kissing Alastor in a church somewhere with tall windows, my hands on his chest were able to feel his heartbeat, Alastor kissing me with his naked skin against mine, and his cold lips under mine as he lay dying on the floor.

I felt him fading, his unseen fingers pulling away. I opened my eyes. He was very weak now, no more than a shimmering outline in the dark.

“Alastor?”

“I apologize, my love,” he said with that voice from nowhere.

“For what?”

“That I am unable to kiss you,” he said. “I have missed kissing you very much, but it just wasn’t the same.”

I watched him struggle to remain near me; our kiss had drained him considerably. I wanted him to do it again, but knew it was impossible at the moment.

“Can you tell me about it?” I asked, tentative, afraid he would disappear at any moment.

“What?” He asked.

“About us, about our life together, and about you.”

“Why would you ask about that?”

I looked into his eyes that flickered in the darkness, fading, growing clear, and then fading again.

“I’m at a disadvantage,” I explained, hoping he would understand. “You remember us. You remember me. I don’t.”

He made a noise, almost like a sigh, “I was worried that it would upset you. After all, like you just said, these are my memories not yours.”

“I would like to know,” I confessed.

He nodded, looking at me with a more miserable expression than I had ever seen.

“Very well. I was born in this house in 1848.” He paused and cut his eyes in my direction. I kept my face expressionless so that he would continue. He sighed and went on. “My older brother Atherton, your great-great-great-great-grandfather, and I grew up in these very rooms.”

I gasped. I couldn’t help it. Things just kept getting stranger. Not only was I supposedly his wife reincarnated, but I was also his great-great-great-great-great-niece. It was just too odd for words.

“I suppose that all of this seems like a long time ago, but to me it is the not so distant past.” He was lost in memories for a time before he continued, “It was a nice boyhood of ponies and hunting. Then the war came. Atherton joined the army right away. I was a few years younger, so I joined the homeguard.”

“Is that when we met?”

Alastor paused, a soft smile played over his lips. “No, it was about a year later. I was at the square, ready to enlist when the most beautiful girl I had ever seen walked by me. You were wearing a beautiful blue dress; I remember how it matched your eyes exactly.”

He stopped and glanced over at me again, “I could smell your perfume as you walked past. As crazy as it sounds, I knew then and there that I would marry you one day, even before I knew your name.”

The romance of it all had me blushing, “You hadn’t even spoken to me yet?”

“I was already under your spell. When we finally did meet formally a few days later, my fate was sealed. We only exchanged a few words, but I was ready to shame my family and turn my back on my country to stay near you. You turned those blue eyes on me and I could think of nothing else.”

I tried to picture it, the dashing young soldier and that other me from the visions. I tried to imagine it as really me with him and not some other person. I tried, but failed.

Alastor, on the other hand, recalled it all perfectly. “Perhaps it was the passion of the time, the uncertainty with the war hanging over our heads; we had a rather hurried courtship. We got married and then I joined my regiment.”

It was there that Alastor paused. What I could see of his face became tense and hard.

“War is a horrible thing,” he said with bitterness. “It doesn’t matter which side you’re on, it changes you forever.

Many good men died, men I knew all of my life. People speak of heroes and patriots, but do you know the difference? A patriot dies for his country and a hero makes it out alive. A bullet is the only thing that separates the two.”

He met my eyes again, “The war changed me. I was a very different person when I returned home. As far as the things that happened between us when I returned from the war, I think we both did things that we weren’t proud of. I was an adulterous drunkard, and you shot me.”

I was taken aback by the direction our conversation had taken. One minute we were discussing how the two of us met and fell in love, the next we were back to me murdering him again. Should I have expected his wrath at any second?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing that was ridiculously inadequate for a century old murder.

When I looked at him again he was smiling. It was as if he found all of this very amusing. I also noticed he was becoming more solid.

“You seem to be getting stronger,” I commented to change the subject.

“Does it seem that it is so?” He asked in a lilt from another time.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I do not know.” Alastor admitted as he took his full shape, “I only know that being near you, talking to you like this makes it easier.”

I tried to think of the possibilities when another yawn almost split my head in two.

“You should sleep now.”

“No, I’m fine.” I insisted.

Alastor smiled, “Lie down my darling.”

Reluctantly, I did as he commanded. I slid under the covers and lay back on the pillow.

“Goodnight Alastor.”

“Sleep well my beloved.”

As I watched him vanish into a soft mist that faded away, I knew that he was no ordinary spirit…I knew that he was a dangerous entity that could be in some corner of another realm planning his revenge, but I also knew that I was hopelessly in love with him.

A love that refuses to die…

“As I watched him vanish into a soft mist that faded away, I knew that he was no ordinary spirit…I knew that he was a dangerous entity that could be in some corner of another realm planning his revenge, but I also knew that I was hopelessly in love with him.”

When Becca moves into her ancestral home in Corydon, Indiana, her life takes a puzzling and thrilling turn when she meets the ghost haunting the halls. As the seductive spirit lures her closer and closer, she learns about her own past and starts to understand that some mistakes are meant to last.

Becca McAllister has always been different from other girls her age. Never part of the "in crowd", Becca never really fit in anywhere. When her mother dies and her father moves them to the small town of Corydon, Indiana, Becca didn't expect things to change.

But things do change when Becca accidentally makes contact with a one hundred and sixty year old ghost, Alastor Sinclair, that haunts the halls of her new home.

To Becca, Alastor is a seductive spirit that seems to see straight into her soul. To Alastor, Becca is what he was waited a century for--A second chance.

But the closer they get, the more Becca realizes that this isn't the first time she and Alastor have known each other. Worse still, is she the one responsible for his death so long ago? And if so, did he come back for love or revenge?

Spiritus is FREE right now on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords.

In romance, readers’ tastes are always changing, from historical, to contemporary, to paranormal, and back again. The heroes of these novels are just as diverse from brooding earls, to bad-boy rebels, to vampires with a soul, and more.

One has to wonder, what’s next? Who will be the next hot book boyfriend? What if the next great romance is one from beyond the grave?

Reincarnation romance is not a new idea, but what if it’s a Civil War soldier returning to haunt the reincarnation of the wife that murdered him?

Excerpt from Spiritus
In my dream, I was in the rose garden and it was late afternoon. I wore a long full, skirt. I could feel the weight of it swirling around me as I moved. I lifted my skirts, noticing the white undersleeves covering my arms, and followed the mossy stone path back to the far corner of the garden where the roses grew rambling and wild.

The setting sun didn’t reach this part of the yard and the tall back hedges blocked out the afternoon light so that the shadows had already taken hold of the garden. It was cooler here and the crickets were already chirping.

I breathed in the early evening air, pungent with the scent of the roses and summer honeysuckle. Life was good. It was always good here.

From behind came strong male arms to hold me close. I didn’t scream. Whoever this was, I welcomed his touch.
I turned to face this man, but a random ray of setting sun was in my eyes blinding me. I caught a fleeting glimpse of his piercing blue eyes before his lips covered mine.

His kiss bruised my lips but left me craving more as he nibbled at my neck as his fingers pulled at the buttons of my dress. My naked skin was helpless against him as his kisses left my flesh burning. All too slowly, this man moved back up to my lips. I was starving for the taste of him as he lowered me to the soft earth.

I woke up panting, filled with yearning, and longing for something I couldn’t name.

“Do you still believe that I am only a dream?” A voice asked in the darkness, soft and beseeching.

I sat up in bed, clutching the blankets to my chest and searching the darkness for the source of the voice.

He stood in the corner, starring out from the shadows with brilliant blue eyes. His voice was so raw and emotional, tempting me even as I feared it. His perfect face was so very human, appearing sad and wounded.

I couldn’t believe it. Just when I convinced myself that I imagined everything, he was back. His face perfect and so real, I could see the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks. I could even see the lines of his sensual lips.

The light from my window played upon his ghostly form, falling upon his white shirt and open suit vest. The texture of the clothing so very different from whatever it was that made up his body.

I was shaking, trying to make myself focus completely on him. He was tall and lean, but with a muscular cut to his arms where his shirt was rolled to his elbows. His hair was a light brown, almost bronze, and mussed as if he had just ran his hands through it.

The fear was overwhelming, squeezing me tight. “Who are you?”

His blue eyes were unwavering, his voice seductive. “Do you not recognize me, my love?”

I felt a scream rise in my throat and hang there, making it difficult to breathe. His lips barely moved when he spoke, but yet his voice was clear and strong.

“Why are you here?” I demanded, panic starting to rise to the surface.

The apparition began to tremble and break apart. His voice came in a sweet caress, “I am here because of you.”
​
And he was gone.

Spiritus is currently free at Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords.

A love that refuses to die…

​When Becca moves into her ancestral home in Corydon, Indiana, her life takes a puzzling and thrilling turn when she meets the ghost haunting the halls. As the seductive spirit lures her closer and closer, she learns about her own past and starts to understand that some mistakes are meant to last.

Becca McAllister has always been different from other girls her age. Never part of the "in crowd", Becca never really fit in anywhere. When her mother dies and her father moves them to the small town of Corydon, Indiana, Becca didn't expect things to change.

But things do change when Becca accidentally makes contact with a one hundred and sixty year old ghost, Alastor Sinclair, that haunts the halls of her new home.

To Becca, Alastor is a seductive spirit that seems to see straight into her soul. To Alastor, Becca is what he was waited a century for--A second chance.

But the closer they get, the more Becca realizes that this isn't the first time she and Alastor have known each other. Worse still, is she the one responsible for his death so long ago? And if so, did he come back for love or revenge?