by Allie Harrison
The Haunted Book Three
Her past is a mystery. His future is in jeopardy.
From the first moment Clare Newman steps into Camden Place—from the squeak in the floor and the sweet scent of apple pie to the candles she lights on the dining room table—it feels like home. It's a place she can find refuge from her nightmares. It’s a place where she can make a fresh start…
…Except there's a misty figure with a knife who disappears into the library.
…Except there's Liam Camden, the man who built Camden Place over a century and a half before, who doesn’t disappear, who seems to be the only one who can see and talk to Clare.
But who is the real ghost? Clare, who somehow found the doorway to 1847? Or Liam, who died mysteriously one hundred and fifty years ago?
When danger creeps closer, will the timeless love they share be enough to keep them safe?
Genre: Paranormal RomancePurchase link(s): Amazon BAM B&N
Content/Theme(s): Ghosts, Time Travel, Suspense, Mystery, Haunting
Release Date: March 1, 2017
Excerpt & More
She moved around the room and used her lighter to light several candles that were set about. In the soft candle light, the music room was even more inviting than the dining room.
Idly, she ran her fingers over the keyboard of the beautiful piano, lightly pressing each key. The sound was beautiful. The keys were cool beneath her fingertips. Surprisingly, like the dining room table, the piano was free of dust.
My fingers feel at home… Can I play again, after so long?
Heart racing, she closed her eyes and played a rolling C chord, feeling the sound as it vibrated through her. She let out a slow breath. The rush of panic didn’t come. Her eyes still closed, she played five notes with one finger. Then ten, and waited, her finger still on the keys. The heartache that usually choked her didn’t come.
Despite the echoing of a room empty, of an entire house empty, the piano was in tune and sounded perfect. There wasn’t even the tin, hollow sound that often came with age or neglect. She opened her eyes and drew in a deep breath. A sense of calm filled her. Her music had always had that effect on her.
Without thought, she sat down on the bench. It creaked beneath her weight and made her smile. Piano benches always creak. She placed her fingers on the keys. They seemed to know just where to go. She supposed this was like riding a bicycle. No matter what happened to her, her fingers still knew what to do.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and played a song she’d written, something she called, “The Road to Anywhere.” The notes came to her as if they were merely an extension of her fingers. She played with hardly a mistake, despite the fact she hadn’t played this piece, or any piece, in over a year.
For a long moment, she relished in the sound she created. The excitement, the rush of her music filled her, flowing into the hollow spaces. She’d been so empty for so long.
In a single instant, for the first time in months, she felt…
Not perfect, not near ready to perform before an audience again. Perhaps not ready to write a single note. Not ready to face all the demons still lingering in her nightmares.
But better. And, except for the headache, pain free.
She smiled and took a deep breath. The scent of apples and cinnamon filled her lungs. It was mingled with the heady aroma of furniture wax and candle wax.
Her fingers, still lingering on the keys, thrummed with an energy she’d never experienced before.
The sounds of dishes rattling and the echo of laughter drew her attention. She jumped from the bench as if someone dumped a cup of ice down her back.
What the hell? Another ghost? The ghostly figure of a man with the knife back to listen to her impromptu concert before slashing her throat? A chill skittered over her, sliding a cold hand around her neck, her shoulder, down into her chest. She shuddered. Had she left the door open? She raced toward the dining room, only to stop in her tracks.
This is way too real…
Before she could gasp, hands—warm and strong, not ghostly at all—grabbed her. Her screams died in her throat.
Liam Camden paused, fork in hand, to listen.
“Does anyone hear the piano? Who’s playing my piano?”
His guests laughed and chuckled. Their spoons rattling against soup bowls, their wine glasses clinking together in good natured toasts.
“Now you’re hearing things. Obviously you’ve had a bit too much wine,” his friend, Benford Galliger, said, his voice filled with laughter. “Why did you even purchase a piano and pay that ridiculous amount of money to have it shipped here? Do you even know how to play it? Of course you don’t.” His tipsy friend answered his own question.
He wasn’t drunk, and he knew he heard a sweet, but haunting melody coming from the piano. “Excuse me a moment.” He placed his napkin on the table and stood. He knew leaving in the middle of a dinner party wasn’t polite manners, but someone was in his music room. He had to check…he felt a pull he couldn’t ignore.
If he had to guess, Gerard and Millie, his house servants, were in the kitchen preparing dessert. Anyone who might remotely know how to play, or even be invited to play his piano, was already seated at his table. And whoever was playing it knew how to play it well. So who…
The music stopped when he reached the door. His friends didn’t seem to hear it. In fact, they were more interested in their food and conversation than the fact that their host had left the table. They chuckled over him and continued with their enjoyment, and the meal and drinks he provided to them.
Just beyond the dining room door he ran right into her. Shocked to find a stranger, a woman in his home, he instinctively reached out to grab her…
Purchase link(s): Amazon BAM B&N
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Be on the lookout for Allie Harrison's future release(s): Windsgate Drive coming Fall 2017
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