What have I been working on?

While Consequences (releases September 18th) is with the proofreader I have been busy at work on my next mystery novel, Dark Passing. *choir of angels sing*

 We will welcome back our favorite misanthrope, Ella Reynolds, and her ever so sweet detective, Gabriel Troy. Here is a little excerpt just for you. 
 
I shook my head. Fagan’s car crept up the snow covered lane and parked on the flat area behind us. He tapped on Gabriel’s window and waved for us to follow him to the barn. We hiked in behind him. The old barn groaned under the relentless wind and the smell of dirt and hay mixed with something sweeter that stuck in my throat and made me want to turn around and leave. Goosebumps covered my body and had nothing to do with the cold. I stopped, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to pull myself together. The too familiar feeling of eyes on me, boring into me, made my heart beat quicken. I peeled back my eyelids that didn’t want to open to find no one was looking at me. All forensic investigators were busy photographing and collecting evidence and Fagan and Gabriel we looking intently at the table. I let my eyes slowly travel the room, searching out my discomfort. When I reached the loft an old man in overhauls and a white t-shirt stood out in the open staring down at me. The words to call out to him were on my lips when his face finally registered. His eyes were no more than crimson pools of blood slowly leaking down his cheeks and into his white beard. Everything around me faded, and I could hear the drip of the blood from the ends of his beard to the wood planked floor. Drip, drip, drip. I couldn’t look away from his gruesome gaze; my skin crawled as if trying to get away.
Gabriel stepped between me and the dead farmer, breaking the trance. “El?” He glanced to where I was looking, but didn’t see him. “You okay?”
“Um, yeah. Fine. Sorry. What were you saying?”
He gave me an odd look, but led me over to the table by the elbow. I couldn’t help glancing back up. The man followed me, the floor creaking under his weight, continuing to stare like he knew I could see him. My stomach twisted, but I forced my attention on Gabriel. He’s not real, he can’t hurt me, became my mantra.

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Ghosties and Ghoulies or Allergies Run Amok?

Last week I was on a fall themed vacation. We went to see covered bridges, apple orchards, a large fall festival, and a reindeer ranch. On the way home we stopped in Illinois to tour an old house. There was nothing upsetting about the house. It was a dreary, cold day outside, but the house looked nice and inviting, as if beckoning us to take a closer look.

The tour started and the moment I stepped foot in the house I became hot, stifling so. The tour guide complained about how cold she was and kept her coat on the entire tour as did the other guests. A moment later if felt like my lungs were closing then waves of nausea washed over me, I was certain I would either faint or pass out. By the time we made it upstairs, the pressure in my head behind my right eye made me want to cover my eye so it wouldn’t come out.

As the tour dragged on and on I only got worse. I eyed my escape with the good eye hoping it would be soon, but the tour guide kept blathering on and on unaware of the torture I was going through. Finally, she released us from the house, and I contemplated skipping the second part of the tour to go back to the car, but as soon as the cold air outside hit my face and lungs, everything evaporated. I was no longer hot, dizzy, or nauseous. The pounding head ache and irrational thoughts of escape drifted away as well. Within seconds, I was perfectly fine again.

Allergies? Maybe. Ghost? You never can tell.

Happy Halloween!