Hauntings in the Garden, Volume One

by Wild Rose Press Authors

  “I want to try.”

  Lisette imagined the wolf she’d been in Michael’s vision. The magical power swept over her, and she became the wolf as Michael shifted into the panther.

  Merged with Michael’s thoughts, she knew when relief filled her warlock’s heart.

  “The ability’s returned. Our coven can shift.”

  She didn’t risk moving beyond the creek, staying close to Michael. But just as in the vision, the bear emerged from the brush. With Michael blocking her, the dangerous animal chose to attack the panther first.

  The image of Artemis Shade superimposed itself over the bear’s muzzle forcing bile to rise in her throat. Infuriated, she shifted assuming her panther spirit mid-air and leaped to Michael’s defense. While airborne, the bear turned to face her.

  Artemis jeered, “You will be mine.”

  “Ne-v-e-r,” Michael growled and sent a powerful flash of magic at the beast, but the bear disappeared before the strike hit him.

  Michael nuzzled Lisette, encouraging her to shift back. His scent remained on her skin, embedded in her memories and in her heart even after she returned to her human form.

  He ran a thumb across her bottom lip. “You okay?”

  “Yes. Euphoric. Better than okay.” She threw her arms around him. “Instead of fear, the power filled me.”

  “Sorry, I’m late to the party.” Marisa smiled as she landed in the clearing, fluttering bright silver wings behind her.

  “Right. Angel? Not just an expression.” Lisette laughed. “Another unlikely being.”

  “I smell Artemis.” Desmond hovered before settling and inspected the area, his huge bronze wings taking up the better part of the clearing.

  “We lost him,” Lisette confessed.

  “We stopped him,” Michael corrected.

  “Sorry.” Lisette said, “I know I shouldn’t expect retribution for my parents, but I want Shade caught.”

  “So do we,” Desmond assured her. “We’ll find him and send him back to Hell where he belongs.”

  “We’re responsible for capturing Artemis,” Marisa assured her.

  “They’ll find him with help from a higher power, then we’ll free Isaiah, and Desmond will send Artemis back to the underworld.”

  “So you angels have the demons under control?” Lisette asked.

  “We have a lead on his location.” Desmond grinned. “You could say we’re working on it.”

  “Are you two an item?”

  “Marisa says we’re just dating,” Desmond answered.

  “We’ll see where things go,” Marisa added.

  “And Marisa, we’re still besties?”

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  “Then we’ll relax while you’re on duty.”

  Lisette spun in a circle then emerged as an eagle, sending her thoughts deep into Michael’s mind. “Join me. We fly with fallen angels, tonight.”

  Michael shifted, stretched his wide wings, and took flight beside Lisette. With the angels, they circled the swamp for a while.

  “As thrilling as this is, there are a few things I’d prefer doing in our human form.” Sending her vision to Michael, they split off and turned toward home.

  He soared past her. “Race you back.” Michael’s sexy voice touched her mind, and their joined laughter rang through her heart.

  “…now and forever, my love is yours.”

  A word from the author...

  Eliza March, author of contemporary, paranormal, and fantasy romance with an erotic kick.

  After one wickedly dreary winter, I packed up the babies, the furniture, said good-bye to snowsuits and snow shovels, and moved my family to west central Florida where my husband and I continue to live today. We raised five children and several animals over the years, but now that our children are grown, I have time to write the stories running around in my head. Fortunately, my husband is an avid supporter.

  ~*~

  You can follow Eliza March on her website:

  http://www.elizamarch.com

  Caster’s Unfriendly Ghost

  by

  Alicia Dean

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Caster’s Unfriendly Ghost

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Alicia Dean

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Faery Rose Edition, 2014

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-569-2

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To Reba Dearion,

  a beautiful person and wonderful friend.

  The world’s loss is Heaven’s gain.

  Chapter One

  Percy, Oklahoma, October 1st

  Reese Caster blinked twice at the keyhole—make that two keyholes, and they were blurring together—of his high rise apartment door.

  Maybe that fifth scotch and soda was a bad idea.

  “Shit,” he mumbled and made another stab at it. This time, the key slid into the lock. “Ha, ha! Got ya!” He pushed the door open and stumbled through the entrance.

  Chilled air blasted him in the face. “What the…?” He kept the temp down in the apartment—he liked it cool—but this was mother freakin’ freezing.

  He rubbed his hands briskly on his arms and headed down the hallway. Once he was under the blankets, he’d pass out, and it wouldn’t matter. He’d mess with the thermostat tomorrow.

  He pushed his bedroom door open and fell back onto the bed. Now, if he could just manage to actually get under the blankets…

  A replay of Jessica’s tirade surfaced in his mind. He chuckled. Man, was she pissed. He’d been too smashed to close the deal. Oh well, he’d bang her twice next time. If there was a next time. One thing he couldn’t stand was a shrewish, demanding woman. Maybe it was time to move on. After all, they’d had two great weeks together—fun times, good sex. No point in dragging things out.

  The room stopped spinning, and he was just thinking of trying to wrestle under the blankets when a voice penetrated his consciousness. “Caster, hey, Caster.”

  He frowned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. That sounded like Joey, his old pal. But it was impossible…

  “Caster! Are you awake?”

  Caster forced his eyes open. Joey stood over him, snapping his fingers in his face. “Hey, rise and shine, I need to talk to you.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Caster sprang from the bed, and fell to the floor, then jumped to his feet, suddenly and completely sober. “What the hell?”

  “That’s better.” Joey chuckled. “What’sa matter? You act like you’ve seen a ghost.” The chuckle became a rocking belly laugh. He finally regained control of himself and gasped out, “A little cliché, maybe, but still funny as hell.”

  Caster’s gut clenched, and chills raced through his blood. “It can’t be.” He shook his head, trying to clear the alcohol from his brain. “You’re…dead.”

  “Yes, it can be.” Joey crossed his arms and plopped down into the easy chair next to the bed. “See, you’re talking to my ghost. Unfinished business and all that.”

  Caster shook his head and backed out of the room. He was never, ever drinking again. Never.

  Wait…he was dreaming, that was it. He’d come home, gone to bed, and fallen asleep. Why he was dreaming about Joey Tillman, he had no idea. But that’s what was happening. All the same, he’d sleep
on the sofa. He scrubbed his hands over his face, then pulled back to study them.

  Hmmm…that sure felt real…

  Nope, he was dreaming. Had to be. He went into the living room and dropped onto the sofa, put his forearm over his eyes, and tried to make himself fall asleep again. But his heart was pounding out of his chest, making it hard to relax. That had been one hell of a real dream.

  “Damn, Caster, you’re making this harder than it has to be.”

  Caster jerked his arm off his face and shot to his feet. Joey stood in the room—looking the same as he had the last time he’d seen him five years ago, dark, wavy hair, even darker eyes, his usual attire of jeans and a T-shirt—this time a Thunder basketball shirt—that big, shit-eating grin he always wore.

  “You’re not real.” Caster shook his head. “This cannot be happening. I’m wasted. I’m imagining things.” Caster kept a litany of denial going until Joey/not Joey held up a hand.

  “Let me save us some time. I died in a plane crash a year ago; you came to my funeral. You haven’t seen or spoken to my wife since. I, however, have been keeping an eye on her. She’s about to make a huge mistake, and I need your help to keep that from happening. I’m sure you’ll help me because, in spite of the fact that you pushed the two of us together, you care about Emily, and you don’t want to see her hurt.” Joey moved toward him, and Caster stepped back. “Before we proceed, though, I apparently have to make you see that this is real, that I’m here. Pinch yourself.”

  Caster shook his head. “I’m not going to do that. You’re not real.”

  “I would pinch you if I could, but I can’t touch people. Only inanimate objects. Guess I’ll have to prove it another way.”

  Joey held his arms out to his sides and lifted off the ground. Just hovered there, like a…ghost. No way in hell…it couldn’t be.

  “See, I’m really, truly a ghost. Now, are you ready to hear me out?”

  Caster nodded, although he was anything but. He was ready to call the police—or a psych ward.

  “I have been unable to move on since my death. My otherworldly mentor—for lack of a better title—told me it was because I can’t rest until Emily is happy. She took my death hard, and now she’s starting to see some dickwad. He’s planning to ask her to marry him, but he only wants her money.”

  In spite of the impossibility of the situation, Caster could no longer deny it. Joey Tillman’s ghost was here, in his apartment, asking for a favor. He shook his head. Son of a bitch. “How do you know he only wants her money?”

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on him—and her. He’s a greedy bastard. He found out Emily received a large insurance settlement from the insurance company—dying in a plane crash is quite a profitable way to go, FYI—and now he wants to get his hands on that money. He’s had a vasectomy, but he told Emily that he hopes to have children one day. The thing Emily wants most is children. I wasn’t able to give them to her.” He fell silent, cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse when he spoke again. “Like I said, he’s tricking her, using her, and I can’t allow that to happen.” He blinked rapidly and pressed his thumb and forefingers into his eyes. “Emily doesn’t deserve that. She’s the best.”

  Emily was the best, Caster couldn’t argue with that. “So, where do I come in?” Okay, it was official. He was actually convinced Joey’s ghost was here, and that he needed a favor. Wow.

  “I want you to go after her.”

  “Go after her? You want me to kill your wife?” Maybe he wanted Emily to join him on the other side?

  “No, of course not. I meant, go after her romantically. Sweep her off her feet.”

  Caster snorted a laugh. “I thought you didn’t want her with the wrong guy. I’d be worse than the bozo gold digger.”

  Joey was nodding before Caster finished speaking. Hell, he didn’t have to agree so vehemently.

  “Oh yeah, you definitely would. But you see, he’ll marry her and ruin her life. You’ll break her heart, but you won’t marry her. She’ll stay away from men for a period of time, while she’s getting over you, and by then, maybe I will have found someone right for her.”

  “You’re out of your mind.” Caster headed to the kitchen and popped a Keurig pod into the maker. No way in hell he was getting back to sleep tonight.

  Joey followed. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m desperate. I’d have to be to ask you, of all people, to romance my wife.”

  Caster shot him a look over his shoulder. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” The coffee finished, and Caster gulped the scalding liquid, burning his tongue. Nope, he was definitely not dreaming. “Why don’t you just appear to her and tell her the jerk is all wrong for her? Keep me out of this.”

  “I’ve thought of that. But I don’t want to traumatize her. And, even once she accepts that my ghost has appeared to her, she won’t necessarily believe the guy is wrong for her. She might think I’m just jealous.”

  Caster took another drink. “Are you?”

  Joey’s mouth tightened. “Of course it’s hard to see her with another man. But I’ve accepted she has to move on.” His voice dropped. “She deserves someone great in her life. And, yeah, I’m jealous, but that’s not the reason I want to break them up. He’s bad for her.”

  Caster let out a long breath through clenched teeth. What would it be like to rekindle the old flame with Emily? Exciting? Yes. Fulfilling? Yes. Wise? Hell, no. He’d barely gotten away unscathed the first time. “Forget it. Not going to happen. Now get out and let me try to get to sleep. Maybe when I wake up tomorrow, this will all have been a dream.” Caster stumbled back to the bedroom and threw himself on the bed.

  Joey followed him. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

  Caster grunted a laugh. “Oh, what are you going to do, haunt me?”

  Joey grinned. “You’ll wish that was all I’m going to do.”

  Caster growled and closed his eyes. Maybe if he ignored Joey, he’d go away. A few moments ticked by with nothing happening, and Caster relaxed. He was just about to doze off when the sound of shattering glass jerked him awake. “What the hell?”

  Joey stood next to the nightstand, holding a baseball bat over his shoulder. Caster’s expensive, Gherkin etched glass lamp lay in fragments on the carpet.

  “Are you out of your mind? You dug in my closet and found my bat, then destroyed my thousand dollar lamp?”

  Joey shrugged. “Guess that’s what you get for paying a grand for a lamp.” He moved to the dresser and swung the bat into the mirror. Caster ducked when pieces of glass flew around the room. Joey grinned. “I can do this all night.”

  Caster let out a heavy breath. Talk about your proverbial rock and a hard place.

  Chapter Two

  Covington, Oklahoma, October 3rd

  Emily Tillman carried a caramel macchiato and cinnamon scone over to where her best friend, Rachel Ramos, sat in the booth at Java Hut. She slid into the seat across from her and tucked a strand of short, dark hair behind her ear. “Okay, so, I think we just about have everything covered for the haunted forest. The guys are coming over tomorrow to build the plywood walls.” Emily was in charge of the fundraiser for elder care at the hospital where she was an assistant administrator. She’d decided to host a haunted forest on her land. She lived out in the country, and there were plenty of woods surrounding her house.

  Rachel pinched off a piece of scone and popped it into her mouth. “You have all the spooks lined up?”

  Emily grimaced. “Well, I did, but Michael Myers is having a root canal, so I’ll have to find a replacement.”

  “Better make it quick. It opens in a few weeks, and we have to rehearse.”

  Rachel was playing Lizzie Borden, and she was just a little too excited about portraying the murderess.

  “I know. We’ll find someone.”

  “Emily?” A deep voice spoke from behind her. “Emily Tillman?”

  Before Emily could turn, she caught a glimpse of Rachel’s horrified expressio
n. Her hazel eyes shot sparks, and her lips compressed into a thin line.

  Emily looked over her shoulder and suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “Reese Caster?” Her words came out in a faint whisper.

  He looked good. Damn good. He wore a dark gray suit, sans tie, with the first few buttons of his white shirt undone. A hint of a five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw line.

  He approached their booth and reached out a hand. In a daze, she placed her trembling fingers in his. His white teeth flashed in a smile. “How have you been?” Solemnity overtook his expression. “I haven’t seen you since Joey’s funeral.”

  “And that’s not nearly long enough.” Rachel’s words scorched the air.

  Rachel hated Reese because he’d broken Emily’s heart. Emily wanted to hate him too, but couldn’t bring herself to. She’d known he was a playboy when she’d dated him. At the time, he was a surgeon at the same hospital where she worked in admissions, and his prowess was legendary. Although she’d always thought herself strong-willed, she found she was totally helpless when he turned those crystal green eyes on her. It hadn’t seemed to matter he had bedded half the women who worked at the hospital. When he looked at her, she felt like she was the only one in his world.

  Caster shot Rachel a smile. “I see you haven’t softened toward me, even after five years.”

  “You dumped my best friend. On her birthday.”

  Emily’s face heated. “Rachel, that was a long time ago. And things turned out fine. After all, Caster was the reason I met Joey.” Her husband had been a friend of Caster’s. She’d met him just before Reese broke up with her. One thing led to another, and she and Joey started dating, then married within a year. Joey had definitely helped her get over Caster. Sometimes, she wondered if that had been part of the reason she married him.

  No…she loved Joey. That’s why she’d married him. And they’d had a good marriage, until Joey’s death. Anxious to change the subject, Emily said, “What have you been up to? Are you still at Saint Francis?” She knew he was, but didn’t want him to know she knew. He’d left Jarman Memorial and transferred to the hospital in the neighboring town of Percy shortly after their break up. She’d kept tabs on him—through the grapevine—since that time. She hadn’t wanted to, but was unable to resist. She refused to dissect the reason behind that insanity.