BLURB:
While on a
genealogical research journey through the Midwest, Molly Hamilton impulsively
buys a 100-year-old Victorian house in the middle of a cornfield, and falls in
love with the house’s owner...the original owner, that is. Can he be a ghost?
The handsome, intriguing attorney certainly feels solid—and somehow her soul
knows she has always loved him.
Darius Ferguson
has no idea how he has come to present-day Iowa. The last thing he knew, the
year was 1880, and he had just buried his fiancée, who happens to look exactly
like Molly. He cannot separate the two women in his heart—to him, they are one.
In spite of
being drawn to him, Molly thinks Darius is unhinged. Darius wonders if he has joined
his fiancée in purgatory. If time travel is possible, will love be enough to
build a future together?
EXCERPT
“Molly, wait!”
I froze in place
for a moment. It was definitely a man
under the tree though I couldn’t see his face...and he knew my name.
“Do I know you?” I called in an unsteady
voice. It seemed, though, as if my words
were taken by the wind. Who was this
man? And how did he know my name?
He moved away from
the tree with a tentative step. His
clothing was formal—a dark suit and white shirt—as if he had just been to a
funeral. I hadn’t remembered seeing a
canopy for a funeral on the grounds, but I wasn’t about to take my eyes off the
stranger for one instant to confirm that suspicion.
I thought I saw a
flash of white teeth from under his dark mustache, but he was still some
distance away. Golden highlights in his
chestnut hair caught the sunlight, and my mouth dropped open. He was undoubtedly one of the most handsome
men I had ever seen in my life. My
stomach rolled over at the sight of him, though not with admiration of his good
looks. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead,
and I put my hand to my mouth as if to hold back the morning’s breakfast...if
I’d had any.
For here—in the
flesh—was the man of my dreams. Not just
any dreams. More specifically, my dreams
of the previous evening. Yet I couldn’t
for the life of me remember ever seeing him before until this moment.
“Be careful what you wish for,” I muttered behind the
hand that covered my face.
“Molly, don’t be afraid. I can see that you are. I don’t want to frighten you.” He took another step forward and held his
hands up palms out...as if to show me he wasn’t armed, I thought hysterically,
or to calm me down. Either way, it
wasn’t working.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Bess McBride made
her first serious writing attempt when she was 14. She shut herself up in her
bedroom one summer while obsessively working on a time travel/pirate novel set
in the beloved Caribbean of her youth, but she wasn't able to hammer it out on
a manual typewriter (oh yeah, she's that old) before it was time to go back to
school. The draft of that novel has long since disappeared, but the story is
still simmering within, and she will finish the adventure one day soon.
Bess was born in
Aruba to American parents and lived in Venezuela until her family returned to
the United States when she was 12. She couldn't fight the global travel bug
within and joined the U.S. Air Force at 18 to "see the world." After
21 wonderful and fulfilling years traveling the world and gaining one beautiful
daughter, she pursued her dream of finally getting a college education. With a
license in mental health therapy, she worked with veterans and continues to
work on behalf of veterans. She writes romantic suspense, contemporary, light
paranormal/fantasy and time travel romances and currently has eight novels
published. She can be contacted through her web site at
http://www.bessmcbride.com.
Links:
