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.
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?
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?
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