Sunday, September 28, 2014

Enchanted clothing has a mind of its own...

New in Lobster Cove

Enchanted clothing has a mind of its own. Restlessness plagued Charlotte Becker. While searching for an elusive something to calm her turbulent spirit, she accepts a sudden invitation to Lobster Cove, Maine. Luke Maddox’s hunting days are over. Wounded in action, he returns to Lobster Cove, the only place to ever bring him peace. Hiding his disability, he accepts life will be nothing more than dull routine until he meets a young woman wearing an unusual cloak. She tells an incredible story of a murderous wolf that walks on two legs. And the hunt begins…

Rating: Sensual
Page Count: 226
Word Count: 54600
978-1-62830-636-1 Paperback
978-1-62830-637-8 Digital

To Purchase


Swallowing back her unease, Charlotte rolled up the window and got out. Except for her car, Main Street was empty. She pushed through the scrubby overgrown yard. Clearly illuminated on the door was the By Appointment Only sign. Somebody must be inside and she wasn’t going anywhere without a tow truck. Butterflies fluttered about her stomach as she scampered up the steps and knocked on the door.

“Excuse me,” she called out. “I don’t have an appointment, but my car and phone died and I need a tow—”

The door swung open. Charlotte drew in a breath and set a hesitant foot over the threshold. The interior lights activated, sending her heart pounding.

“Nothing to worry about,” she muttered. “Motion sensors or something. Hello?” she called louder. “Anyone home?”

Charlotte stepped inside. With the interior illuminated, more than a few armoires were visible. The old front parlor was crammed with trunks and bureaus. Battered chests stacked on top of each other lined the walls. Had all this stuff been here before? The size of the building was deceptively small from the outside.

“Great places to stuff a body,” she muttered.

“That’s true,” said a voice.

Charlotte made a leaping half spin around. Her heart shouldered her esophagus out of the way to race up her throat. She swallowed hard to force it back down. The elderly woman with the peasant blouse and purple bandana stood right behind her.

“However, I don’t recommend it,” she said, cheerfully, “as you’ll never get rid of the smell. Did I startle you?”

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