When Wendy Miller’s best friend sets her up on a blind date for Valentine’s Day, she’s hopeful this guy will be Mr. Right Now if not Mr. Right Forever. Imagine her disappointment when he doesn’t show. Instead, a man named Magnus appears, saving her from a lonely evening. He’s charming, he’s handsome, and he’s single. But there’s one thing Wendy doesn’t know...
He’s a ghost.
Magnus was murdered on Valentine’s Day over two hundred years ago. Now, his spirit haunts the inn where he died, searching for the one who can save him from this ghostly existence. The one who will hold his heart forever.
A Steamy Paranormal Ghost Romance
Exerpt:
A ghost? No. She hadn’t just spent the most glorious night of her life with a ghost. Had she?
Marie nodded. “There are those who don’t believe in spirits. I admit I’ve never seen him, but I’ve talked to people who have, and they all seem convinced that he’s real.”
“He is real,” Wendy agreed. “He wasn’t mist or an apparition. He was solid and intelligent and strong. We danced, and we talked, and we…” She’d been about to tell this woman about the amazing sex they had, but that was too much to share.
“Come with me,” Marie said, smiling. She walked around the desk and waved gently with one hand for Wendy to join her. Wendy didn’t want to follow. She didn’t want to learn anything else about this supposed ghost, but her feet moved despite her misgivings, and she followed Marie into a long hallway. She remembered this hallway when she’d searched the inn last night for Magnus.
Marie stopped in front of a large painting of a portrait. Wendy hadn’t looked at any of the portraits last night. She’d been too determined to find the charming man who had danced with her. The hallway led to the back of the inn, to the gardens there. When she arrived yesterday, she’d kept to her room, but had seen the gardens from her window.
“This is Magnus Campbell.” Marie pointed to the portrait. “My many-greats-uncle.”
Wendy didn’t want to look, but she forced her gaze upon the portrait. Magnus… her Magnus… stared back at her. He looked the same. The same dark hair, blue eyes, tiny cleft in his chin. The same broad shoulders and wicked smile.
“Oh, my God,” Wendy whispered.
“I thought you might recognize him.” Marie’s hands folded together in front of her. “So, you were the one he visited last night. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. He’s been dead for over two hundred years.”
“This can’t be the same man…” Wendy blinked and blinked again. She stared at the portrait, searching for some slight difference in the man to compare with the one she met last night. “It just can’t be possible.”
