Dear Gentle Readers,
Here is a little peek at a great new book by the wonderful Susanne Matthews, being released today. Sounds fantastic! Can't wait to read it.
Have a great day!
Born Mohawk, raised white, forensic pathologist, Michelle Thomas is trapped between two worlds—this one and the spirit world where the ghosts of those who’ve drowned speak to her. Haunted by crippling nightmares of her own drowning death and erotic dreams of a phantom lover, she strives to make sense of her life. When two suspicious deaths occur at the Lake of the Mountain Resort, she’s sent to investigate. She’ll face the greatest challenge of her career when her past and her present collide. One of these men is her future, but which one—the rich and powerful Mayor Ron Davies, or Tony Steele, the hydrology professor who may be responsible for his students’ deaths? Charged by the spirits of her Mohawk ancestors to atone for her previous sins by protecting Lake of the Gods, can Michelle solve the murders, save the sacred waters, and fulfil her destiny?
***Release Date Today July 11, 2014!***
Purchase Echoes of the Past from SCP.
Check Susanne's Website for other purchase options.
Here is a little Excerpt to whet your appetite:
Michelle turned on the tap, and the image vanished replaced by her own. With trembling hand, she held a glass under the spigot and filled it with water. She opened her cosmetic case and took out two acetaminophen tablets to ease the headache pounding in her skull.
She returned to the bedroom, turned up the heat, sat on the bed, and wrapped herself in the comforter, searching for solace, knowing she’d find none. Ghosts didn’t frighten her, but something about this manifestation unsettled her. Madam Mohawk, as she referred to the spirit, represented her past, an ancestry she denied vigorously. Her birth mother may have been Mohawk, but those people had tossed her away as an infant. She’d been “reborn white” to kind and loving adoptive parents she missed terribly, and by God, she’d stay “white” no matter what.
She’d recently investigated reincarnation, and while skeptical about what she’d read, there were aspects of the haunting which fit the pattern more than she’d like to believe. She’d also taken time to study mental illnesses, which might present the same way. She didn’t have Multiple Personality Disorder, but the ghostly presence and her increased aversion to water disconcerted her. Something was wrong, and she needed to fix it before it drove her crazy.
Michelle stared into the quiet darkness. She hated the silence. It reminded her of the before-time when she’d been normal like everyone else. She’d fallen out of a canoe at summer camp at age twelve. It had taken time to find her in the murky waters of the lake, and even more time to get her to shore. When she’d awakened in the hospital after nine days in a coma, she hadn’t been alone. She’d heard voices no one else heard, saw people who weren’t there, and all of them had something in common—they’d all drowned. She hadn’t understood what had happened to her, but it hadn’t taken her long to realize her little quirk needed to be kept secret, even from those closest to her.
Because of her near-drowning, Michelle disliked water. Although her parents had insisted she learn to swim, she always thought she’d rather undergo root-canal surgery than go swimming in a lake. Helping those who’d died that way find peace and comforting those who grieved, helped control her distress. Unfortunately, her fear of water had escalated into a serious problem lately, one she wasn’t prepared to share with anyone.
Nestled in the blanket in the warm room, she recognized the various sounds emerging in the darkness—crickets, bullfrogs, an owl, and the screech of car tires. Outside, gusts of wind blew against the windows rattling the screen. Inside, the ticking of her alarm clock matched her heartbeat. Who was her mysterious, faceless lover? The things the man could do to her body! Even now, the memory of his rough hands against her skin sent waves of need through her. Tonight, there had been a different aspect to the dream, one that upset her more than usual. What atrocities would she have witnessed if she hadn’t awakened? She didn’t know how much more pain her poor heart could tolerate.
She suspected whatever the ghost needed was tied up with the erotic dreams far more vivid than any real-life experience she’d had. Everything centered on the man. She chuckled, the sound loud in the silent room.
Okay. I’m desperately in love with a man whose face I can’t see, who’s been dead for a couple hundred years. How pathetic is that?
She closed her eyes and imagined his hands moving slowly across her naked flesh, enflaming her. Desire pooled in her stomach. She imagined her hands roaming across his beautiful body, tracing every scar there. She ran her fingers through his long, wavy, honey-brown hair. She felt his full, warm lips on hers, tasted him when his tongue invaded her mouth and tangled with hers.
Who are you? Her heart begged.
She shook her head, blinked, and forced herself out of the fantasy. The last thing I need is to go there again tonight.
Unfortunately, the ghost she saw didn’t speak, so where would she find the two-hundred-year old ghost of the man she loved, the one who obviously needed her help? Most likely in this area since the haunting had started here, but duty called her back to Toronto tomorrow.
“I will come back and find you.” Her voice echoed in the silence of the room. She looked at the clock—two a.m. She had to get up at seven to catch her flight. Feeling a bit calmer, she stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. The vision in the mirror filled her mind, and wept as she always did.