Dark Corners READY FOR PRC (42 page)

“Does that mean you are staying here … at least for a while?”

“Anything is possible,” I repeated with a smile over my shoulder. He didn’t return it. “Why did you give me your business card that night?” I asked as I walked into the master bedroom.

“What?”

“You’d been to my house at least a three dozen times before that. Why did you stop that night to give me your card? What changed?” The room had a lot of damage. I didn’t go in too far before I was stopped. Gabriel reached for my shoulder and turned me around.

“Every time I came to look at your house, you were worse not better. I expected you to turn around at some point and start pulling yourself together. I've been there before, though not to that degree—I figured you needed help. Something was keeping you from letting go, but I never believed you were crazy.”

The expression on his face became determined “I want you to come back. We can start over, go out on real dates. No murder investigations, dead husbands, or ghosts overshadowing us will be a good start, right?”

“Murder, death and ghosts, you know exactly what a girl wants to hear.” I laughed.

“I mean it, Ella. I'm serious. I don’t know what’s between us, but there's something and I'd like to give it a chance.”

“Why me?”

“You're real. You wear your feelings on the outside, you say whatever is on your mind, and you make me laugh.”

“And you always say exactly what I want to hear. You have no idea how much that scares the hell out of me.” I paused for a moment, a million thoughts running through my head and a nervous little butterfly flapping in my stomach. “I want a normal life. Here is as good as anywhere.”

He smiled at me looking relieved, which touched my heart and made the butterfly go insane. He leaned in.  “I'm going to kiss you now,” he warned, giving me a chance to pull away, but I met him. Our lips pressed together and the butterfly in my stomach went still, drowned by the warmth that spread throughout me. Gabriel leaned his forehead against mine for a moment before he let me go.

“What took you so long to get home? Wasn’t your therapy over at one?”

“Why, yes it was, Detective. You’d think you do this for a living. I walked part way home with my friend, Grant, then I stopped by the cemetery and said some goodbyes.”

“That reminds me—I forgot to tell you, I did some checking into this Grant character. There's no one at the hospital by that name, patient or doctor.”

“You were checking up on Grant?”

“I still have my suspicions about him. That isn’t really the point though. You know nothing about him. He isn’t even who he says he is.”

“Maybe Grant is his middle name.”

“Maybe.” A cool breeze came through the window and goose bumps appeared on my arms just before there was a crash in the closet. Gabriel and I looked at each other. Then without saying a word, we slowly made our way to the closet, staying close to the wall.

The rod across the top had fallen to the floor with all of the smoke damaged clothes. I pushed the clothes aside. Where the end had fallen, a floorboard was knocked loose and sitting at an angle. I knelt down and lifted it up. Under the floorboard was a little cubbyhole with a sack in it. I gently pulled out the sack. It was very old and very dusty. Inside the sack was a journal. Embossed on the journal was a name. The embossing had faded over the years but it looked like it said “Grant Reynolds.”

I opened the journal. Its pages were filled with old hand writing that had faded over time. Pressed inside I found a tin photo of a face I knew very well. I flipped to the end of the diary. On the last page, in the same scrawled handwriting, but in fresh, bright ink it said, “Welcome to the family.”

About the Author

Many authors claim to have known their calling from a young age. Liz Schulte, however, didn't always want to be an author. In fact, she had no clue. Liz wanted to be a veterinarian, then she wanted to be a lawyer, then she wanted to be a criminal profiler. In a valiant effort to keep from becoming Walter Mitty, Liz put pen to paper and began writing her first novel. It was at that moment she realized this is what she was meant to do. As a scribe she could be all of those things and so much more.

When Liz isn’t writing or on social networks she is inflicting movie quotes and trivia on people, reading, traveling, and hanging out with friends and family. Liz is a Midwest girl through and through, though she would be perfectly happy never having to shovel her driveway again. She has a love for all things spooky, supernatural, and snarky. Her favorite authors range from Edgar Allen Poe to Joseph Heller to Jane Austen to Jim Butcher and everything in between.

Liz would love to hear from you and what you thought of Dark Corners.

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http://enteringbatcountry.blogspot.com/

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When Portia Mullins discovers the love of her life is still alive, her heart soars.  But reality sets in immediately causing it to plummet when she realizes that he doesn’t remember his past life with her.  Unwilling to give up on him, she embarks on a loving quest to help restore his life to him.

Vance Mangum sees the beautiful girl standing before him claiming to be his wife, and while he can’t remember her, he also can’t deny the intense pull he feels between them.  Not knowing where else to turn, he agrees to give her the time she’s asked for and to help her in the effort to recover his memories.

The two quickly reconnect with one another, but dark surprises are lurking in the wings when Vance discovers a desperate longing for something he feels he can’t withstand.  Will he be able to resist? Or will evil raise its head in a new form, leaving Portia as the prey of the very man her heart desires?

Darkness reigns supreme in this haunting tale of love and desperation,

Of Witches and Warlocks, The Dark Rising