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    Willow's Windfall (a novella): Romancing the Spirit Series, #2
    Willow's Windfall (a novella): Romancing the Spirit Series, #2
    Willow's Windfall (a novella): Romancing the Spirit Series, #2
    Ebook100 pages1 hour

    Willow's Windfall (a novella): Romancing the Spirit Series, #2

    By CB Samet

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    About this ebook

    She's a medium. He's a skeptic. A hidden treasure leads them on a dangerous adventure. 

     

    Willow Nightingale helps ghosts cross into the spirit world. When she accepts the task to rid Mark Stryker of the ghost haunting his house, she discovers a lingering ghost who is linked to a three-hundred-year-old pirate treasure.

     

    Mark Stryker doesn't have time for ghostly encounters or spirits interfering with his real estate business. He reluctantly hires ghost whisperer Willow Nightingale in hopes she can somehow wave a wand and declare his property no longer haunted. But strange events lead Mark to trust Willow enough to take an excursion to try to find a long lost pirate treasure.

     

    When Willow and Mark race to find the chest, they discover they aren't the only ones after it. They must rely on each other and the ghost of a pirate if they're going to survive. 

     

    From award-winning author CB Samet comes a delightful series of stand-alone novellas rich with romantic suspense, a touch of the supernatural, and a heart-warming happily-ever-afters. The Romancing the Spirit Series are clean romance tales that can be enjoyed in any order. 

     

    ***

    "I highly recommend this wonderful story" —Booksprout Reviewer 

    "I loved the chemistry between the characters." —Bookbub Reviewer

    "No spooky spirits here, just a handsome client with a cheeky ghost and a snarky medium hoping to help the ghost move on. But somewhere along the way things go astray, and Willow and Mark are stuck like glue until a mystery is solved. For a short story this tale feels longer, we learn so much about out H/h and the not so scary ghost and the storytelling keeps us turning the pages till the oh so satisfying end." —Gigi's Reads

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCB Samet
    Release dateFeb 25, 2019
    ISBN9781386588764
    Willow's Windfall (a novella): Romancing the Spirit Series, #2

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      Book preview

      Willow's Windfall (a novella) - CB Samet

      1

      Mark dropped his overnight bag down in the foyer of the large, dark house. The keys in his hand jostled as he set them down on the dusty entrance table.

      A breeze passed through the foyer, chilling him. The air conditioning wasn't on, and the windows were closed. Where could a breeze come from? Local rumors called this house haunted.

      Ridiculous. There was no such thing as a haunted house.

      After standing in this house for all of sixty seconds, Mark decided he hated it. Who was he kidding? He hated it as soon as he’d discovered that his investment partner had bought this hundred-and-fifty-year-old house immediately prior to taking off with their shared company’s funds. All of them.

      Mark hadn’t always hated the house. In fact, it had once been love at first sight when he’d originally seen pictures of the broad windows and steepled roof. Two stories of sturdy, aged wood topped by a quaint, windowed attic. Mark had thought all she needed was a little TLC and elbow grease to be returned to her former glory. However, six months had passed since seeing pictures of this house for the first time, and now it just reminded him of everything he’d lost.

      Mark had seen dollar signs when he’d envisioned fixing this place up, but he hadn’t been able to get contractors to commit to the work. They’d claimed that ‘strange activity’ occurred there, and locals from the nearby coastal town had talked of the presence of ghosts.

      He’d tried to resell the home, but nobody was interested in buying a run-down house rumored to be haunted.

      He had other properties, of course, but because his partner had cleaned out their bank accounts, Mark needed to sell this place quickly to cover the mortgages on all his other holdings. Everything depended on the sale of this house.

      Mark had even gone so far as to hire ‘ghost-busters,’ so he could at least claim the house had been ‘cleansed’. They’d all been charlatans, though—a waste of money.

      The wood-flooring creaked even though Mark hadn’t moved. He felt a nervous thrill, and glanced around at the dust, the tarp-covered furniture, the planks of fresh wood, and the unopened cans of paint. The last contractor had left in a hurry.

      Mark wasn’t so easily spooked, though. He spoke irritably into the empty house, Ghosts or no ghosts, I need you in shape to sell within the next six months. Mark had about six months’ worth of liquid assets in his personal account—and nothing more. His only hope was to turn a quick profit from this house through his own blood, sweat, and tears.

      * * *

      Willow arranged the diabetic test strips carefully on the counter and checked the pre-filled syringe of insulin. How did such tiny supplies cost so much? How had the cost of insulin risen four-hundred percent since its discovery? And how was someone older, with poor eyesight, even supposed to read these tiny numbers on the syringe?

      Willow?

      Willow looked at her phone on the counter. Right. Erika was on speakerphone.

      No. I’m not coming to the hospital. I hate that place. Willow shuddered.

      I really need you, Erika pleaded.

      Erika was a geriatrician Willow had first met when her diabetic grandmother had been admitted with hypoglycemia. Dr. Erika Patel had been exceptionally kind and patient with Willow’s grandmother. Willow berated herself for her grandmother ending up requiring hospitalization. The woman had diabetic retinopathy and couldn’t be trusted to give herself the right amount of insulin. That had been a lesson learned.

      Willow thought back to the day that had happened—when Dr. Patel had placed a hand on Willow’s shoulder as she’d sat beside her grandmother, and promised: She’ll be okay. We’ll have her fixed up and out of the hospital in a few days.

      Willow nodded numbly.

      She remembered how Dr. Patel had cocked her head to one side. You seem worried. Perhaps disproportionately to the situation.

      Willow shifted her weight in the hospital chair. I hate hospitals.

      Did you have an unpleasant experience?

      Willow sighed. There are depressed spirits here.

      Oh.

      Willow waited for the physician to brush off her statement, or assume Willow was referring to the sick, but still-living patients. Instead, Dr. Patel pulled up a chair and sat down to listen.

      Willow blinked at her.

      Dr. Patel had crossed her legs and leaned forward. Sometimes, I get this prickling feeling on the back of my neck. My great aunt back in India told me that the sensation was me feeling spirits.

      The room had suddenly grown quiet for a moment, with only the sound of Willow’s grandmother snoring in the bed. The sawing noise reminded Willow that she still needed to schedule her grandmother’s sleep study. She didn’t have the two grand out-of-pocket that the sleep center required, though.

      For whatever reason, on that particular day, Willow had felt like trusting those puppy-dog brown eyes of Erika Patel. Hospitals are filled with spirits. They’re the worst places for people to die. Their spirits struggle to figure out how to move on from a place so foreign from their home.

      The best place to die is home? Dr. Patel had asked.

      Yes. Willow answered slowly, surprised by the woman’s ready acceptance of the supernatural.

      The physician had nodded as if she’d suspected as much.

      Willow had continued: Their lingering brings the entire ambience down. Their presence perpetuates depression here.

      Dr. Patel frowned. The elderly already have depression. I hate to think spirits are making it worse.

      They do.

      What can I do? Can anything be done to… help them move on?

      Willow eyed the doctor, who’d given her a disarmingly-friendly smile.

      That night, Willow had returned to the hospital with candles, and incense, and incantations. She’d performed the ritual to help the spirits cross into the ethereal realm—all while a fascinated Dr. Patel had watched. After that night, the women had become friends, and Dr. Patel had become ‘Erika’.

      Willow? Back in the present, Erika’s voice through the speakerphone pulled Willow from her memories. "Each time after you work your magic, my recovery rate increases and my depression rates decrease

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