by Lia Davis
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Violet had done up her hair in a partial French twist with a waterfall of curls cascading down. The longest curl brushed the nape of her neck, and Noah decided it was perfect for fidgeting with. His hand had yet to stop touching a part of her, and she reveled in it. As they crossed the threshold of Cassie’s house and entered the foyer, there was an immediate difference in tone and mood from what she recalled since Halloween. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but if she hazarded a guess, the space felt welcoming and loving because Cassie herself had changed.
“They’re here, everyone! They’re here!” Cassie flitted over to the pair and grabbed their hands. “Oh, Noah, Violet, I’m so glad you’ve come. Happy Thanksgivin’! I tell everyone, there’s nothin’ like Thanksgivin’ in Savannah. Well, there’s nothin’ like livin’ in Savannah, period. But anyhow, listen to me blatherin’ on. Come now, I want to introduce you.” She led them to the grand staircase and up a few stairs, where she turned to greet her guests. “Everyone! May I have your attention, please?”
People came from all over the house and crowded around. “My dear family and friends, I’d like to say how thrilled I am that you all are here together this evenin’, givin’ thanks and sharin’ love for one another. I am also thrilled that God has seen fit to bless me with a miracle. You know how fiercely I love my family and its history. Today, I invite you to welcome into your hearts, as I do, Noah Blackman, our distant cousin from New York.”
Excited gasps and hoots accompanied by thunderous applause, assaulted Violet’s ears, but it was music to her soul. Cassie allowed it to continue for a few moments, then hushed the crowd.
“Noah has been on a fascinatin’ journey to complete his family tree. It led him to my doorstep by way of none other than my dear ancestor, Miss Annabelle Hawkins and her son, Henry. We are related through Henry’s father, Benjamin Blackman. I will set up another gatherin’ where we can all sit down and listen to our family’s story. For now, enjoy each other and the food and drink!”
The next half hour was spent watching people shake Noah’s hand, pat him on the back, offer him a drink and food, and share in the wonder of the discovery. It swelled her heart to see the open nature of these people. So different from what she’d expected given their past history. Cassie wasn’t lying when she said how happy the shift inside her would make her children. It seemed she was the only one hanging on to old beliefs and paradigms. She was the dinosaur of the family. But no more!
Noah and Violet ate a ton of food and enjoyed getting to know Cassie’s family and friends. They had plenty of stories to tell, and no small amount of jokes. All the while, Noah made sure Violet’s every need was cared for, and she did the same for him.
She whispered in his ear. “You know, this being in love thing works for me.”
“Works for me, too,” he whispered back and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Oh, hey, Cassie’s alone. Go nab her.”
“On it!” She excused herself from the group. “Hey, Cassie!”
Fixing a drink at the wet bar, she peered over her shoulder at Violet. “Hi there. Enjoying yourselves?”
“Yes, very much. You have a hilarious family.”
“Thank you. They keep me in stitches whenever we’re together.”
“I was wondering if you could answer a question for me.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do you happen to know which room was Annabelle’s? I think Noah would love to see it.”
“I do. Come on. I’ll show you.” Cassie guided her over to Noah and grabbed his arm. “Come on. Violet and I are going to show you Annabelle’s room. Excuse us, everyone. We’ll be right back.”
“The last time I took you to a room upstairs, it didn’t go well at all. I hope this erases that unfortunate misstep of mine.” She brought them up the stairs and down the hall to the last room on the right. She opened the door and turned on the light. “Here it is. Annabelle’s room. Except for the electricity, I’ve recreated her room to period. Henry’s was right next door. His has been redone, as well. I’ll just leave you two to take it all in. See you downstairs.” She smiled and gave Noah’s arm a squeeze.
Violet checked to see that Cassie had gone down the stairs. Her skin prickled as she re-entered the bedroom. The walls were awash in a pale-yellow hue; the wooden floors adorned with a Persian rug. A four-poster bed, laden with floral quilts commanded the space. “Wow, this room is amazing! I feel like we just stepped back in time. Oh, Benjamin, I wonder if you’ve ever been in here. I hope you can hear me. If you can, please come.”
Noah stepped up behind her and squeezed her shoulders. “Maybe we should say something to invite Annabelle’s ghost out to play.”
“Probably. Cassie would’ve shared on the local evening news if a ghostly ancestor made an appearance. Maybe Annabelle’s hiding, knowing the truth about her son and afraid of Cassie’s racist nature.”
“Or waiting for Benjamin to save her. I’d like to see Henry’s room. Wouldn’t it be cool if his ghost showed up, too?”
“Oh, my gosh, that would be beyond amazing. Why don’t you go in there now while I’m in here? Then we can invite them both at the same time.” She offered him a quick kiss and sent him out. “Okay, here goes nothing. Annabelle Hawkins, if you can hear me, please come out. Annabelle, I’m a friend, and my boyfriend, Noah, is a relative of Benjamin Blackman’s. You remember Benjamin, don’t you? He would love to see you again. I hope you’re able to come out this evening.” Nothing stirred. Not the smallest inkling that a presence other than hers existed in that room. “Well, goodbye for now.”
She walked out into the hallway hoping the mention of Benjamin’s name brought her out. Noah emerged from the boy’s room. “How’d it go in there for you?”
“Fine, I guess. Nothing strange happened, so we’ll see. You?”
“Nothing strange in there, either. Why don’t you and I head outside? The guy playing on the guitar is great and I have a couple of songs to request.”
“I love that idea.” She grasped his hand and frowned. “You okay? You seem a little tense. Has the tumult and everything finally caught up with you?”
“No. No. I’m fine. Really. Come on.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Thanks for asking, though.”
* * *
The night air had cooled slightly. Frogs croaked and birds chirped their evening songs. The giant harvest moon glowed a soothing yellow orange, signaling autumn was upon them.
“Lord, but it’s gorgeous out!” Violet hooked her arm with Noah’s as they stepped out onto the back lawn.
“It sure is. And so are you. This dress, your hair, your... everything. You’re stunning, Violet.” He smiled sweetly and pressed his lips against hers. She sighed as she sunk into his embrace. Pulling away, he gazed into her eyes as though he might lose himself forever in them. She knew she’d lost herself in his.
“You say all the right things at exactly the right time. Something’s up with you. I must investigate! Maybe you’re actually an alien from another planet. Or maybe you’ve read my romance novels sitting in my library. Whatever it is, I’m on to you, Mr. Blackman.”
He held up his hands, eyes wide, face cherubic. “I’m innocent. I promise.”
“Right.” She smirked with slanted eyes. “Go make your music request. I’ll wait for you here.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She watched as he looked through the guy’s playlist and wrote something down on a piece of paper. When he returned, he guided her to the wooden dance floor. Cassie sure knew how to throw a party. The guitarist strummed the last notes of the song he’d been playing, people clapped politely, and then he went straight into the next song.
“Dance with me, babe.” He pulled her into his arms and swayed as the song began.
She peered up at him and smiled. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“I hope a whole hell of a lot.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “Do you know this song? Listen.”
&nbs
p; She nodded. The guy was playing If, by Bread. “I hear this all the time on the Retro satellite radio station I’ve set in my car.” She hummed along to its message of eternal love, and rested her head against his chest as he moved them across the dance floor.
The song hadn’t yet finished, but Noah stopped abruptly and set her apart from him.
“What’s the matter? What are you doing?” Noah knelt down before her and grabbed her hand in his. Confusion tickled and teased the wishes and dreams she’d held close to her heart.
“Violet, from the first time we spoke, I knew there was a strong connection between us. After months of talking and sharing and being there for each other even though we were miles apart, I couldn’t wait to see you in person. Halloween changed my life forever, and I hope it did the same for you.” He paused a moment and sniffled. “Violet, I can’t go back to New York on Sunday without knowing I can come back here and make your home mine, as well. Cabinets can be built anywhere, when you think about it, but your talent is best suited here, where there is history, old and new, to be reconciled. Your family saved mine in that house of yours. I want to make my family grow with you there, for years to come. What I’m saying is, I want you to be my wife and partner in life. Will you marry me?”
Stunned, elated, and overwhelmed, Violet didn’t immediately notice the ring he held in the other hand. All her focus was on a nervous and passionate Noah, speaking loving words she’d prayed to hear someday. “Noah, I can’t imagine my life, my home without you in it now and for always. So, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!” Tears cascaded down her cheeks as he put the sparkling diamond on her ring finger and lifted her in the air to swing her around. Cheers erupted from those who had gathered to watch. The song had ended and a new one begun. “Oh, I know this one, too, Noah. What a Wonderful World, by Louis Armstrong. God, I love you so much.” On tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“I love you, Violet Adams, soon-to-be Blackman. How does a Halloween wedding sound to you?”
“Perfect. It sounds perfect.” Resting her head against his chest, she knew that when she next said she’d never marry again, it would be because she’d already found her eternal bliss.
He resumed their dance, but she was convinced they floated across the floor. In her happy delirium, she gazed out toward the shadowy tree line and gasped.
“Noah!” She tapped his arm and pointed. “Noah, look!”
Two misty figures danced together amongst the trees, while holding a third, smaller figure in their arms. The trio stopped for a moment and waved before fading away. “It truly is a wonderful world, Violet.”
About the Author
Deena spends her time playing in the Garden of Good and Evil as she writes paranormal romance and suspense. She’s been known to have downed a few beers with her angels, and even put Satan in his place a time or two. She’s fascinated with the concept of immortality and all its implications. Gilbert, Arizona, near her beloved Superstition Mountains, is where she and her family call home.
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Ghost in a Bottle
Lia Davis & Kerry Adrienne
Introduction
Some family secrets are best left buried.
Ophelia Hunt is spending her vacation in Savannah, Georgia, helping her dying grandmother settle her affairs. Upon arriving she stops in an antique store. She doesn’t know why, but she’s drawn to the store and an old glass jar. Unable to shake the feeling she’s meant to have the jar, she buys it.
The closer to Hollows Eve the more eerie the house becomes. Objects move on their own, doors open and close, and a man’s whispers are only a few things Opehlia experiences. Suddenly the old stories of curses and ghosts Grams use to tell her don’t seem fiction anymore.
Anatoli La Croix has spent the last century cursed to live as a ghost, locked inside a glass jar. When the beautiful and magickal, Ophelia, purchases the jar and brings it and him home with her, he is able to leave the confines of the glass. Hope is restored within him. Could she be the one to break his curse?
Chapter 1
Ophelia Hunt tugged her leather jacket tighter as the fall wind off the Savannah River sent a chill through her. She walked a little faster, boot heels clicking on the bricked sidewalk. Savannah usually wasn’t cold. Summers had always been hot when growing up and she’d come close to not even bringing a jacket on her trip home this time.
Good thing she’d decided to toss it in her luggage. It was nearly the end of October and she didn’t know how long she’d be in Savannah and fall would soon turn to brisk days and cool nights.
Her gramma’s idea to take a day’s break from sorting through stuff at the house had been a good one, but Ophelia was tired of walking and sight-seeing. The quaint shops along the river were always fun to poke around in, but she hadn’t bought anything and she was ready to head home. To Gramma’s house, the old farmhouse filled with family memories.
She paused at the sidewalk’s railing and watched the river roll by, the wind sweeping her long hair up and over her head in a tangle. She tugged her locks into place and stared into the water. The current a muddy brown, sometimes deep green, she’d always imagined it hid secrets of the past beneath its swirling surface. A tributary ran by her family’s home farther inland but the Savannah River was wide near the port and she’d always loved being on the river walk.
In the harbor section of the river, cargo ships chugged by the promenade where she’d spent many days watching the vessels go by when she was younger. They sailed in from ports of call around the world and brought every type of goods from cars to food.
She used to daydream about what the port looked like over a hundred years ago when ocean shipping was the main way things came into the country. Bananas from South America and silk from China arriving on triple-masted schooners with billowing sails that seemed to reach the clouds. What an amazing sight it must have been to see such treasures float into America on wind power alone. Now, items were locked away in rusty shipping containers on big metal boats motoring under powerful engines.
Still, a sight to behold.
She’d spent her high school summers ship watching instead of dating, which had suited her grandmother just fine. Ophelia tucked fly-away hair behind her ear.
She’d left for college and not really looked back. She’d become a big-city girl and forgotten about her roots. At least, that’s what it felt like. A pang of guilt stabbed her heart. Her gramma had never said a word about it, but Ophelia knew.
“One more stop then I need to get back to Gramma’s.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and turned to the row of storefronts that filled a weathered warehouse facing the river. “She’ll be wanting supper.” And I need to spend more time with her while I can.
She scanned the shops. A candy store, stationery boutique, toy store, and an antiques thrift shop. Any would be interesting.
Benjamin’s Antiques and Oddities. Perfect. His quaint showroom had been in the same location since she was a child, and even before that. She set off toward the building, autumn leaves swirling at her feet. Ben knew her grandmother and would likely ask how things were. It’d be good to talk to someone about the situation.
Coming home to take care of her grandmother’s things before she died was not exactly a fun task, though she got to spend time with her favorite person. With her parents having died in a car crash when she was little, her grandmother had been both parents and grandparents, paying for college and becoming both mentor and confidant.
They’d only had each other.
Ophelia smiled. So many happy memories. She really should have come home more often. After she left for college, she’d been so busy, especially once she’d gotten her job.
She tugged at the heavy door to the shop and it opened, sending the bell on the doorframe ringing. She stepped up the two worn oak steps and let the door close behind her. Dusty age hit her nose and she held her breath a moment to keep from sneezing.
“Welcome to Benjamin’s!” The voice crackled from somewhere deeper in the store. “If we ain’t got it, you don’t need it.”
“Hi, Ben.” Ophelia lowered her hand from her nose and made her way around the tall piles of stuff at the front of the store so she could see Ben. She waved.
“Well, I’ll be…” His face lit up as recognition set in. “Oooophelia Hunt. I haven’t seen you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper.”
She laughed. “I don’t think it’s been that long. But hello. It’s good to see you.”
He’d certainly changed, though she couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t old. He’d always had white hair. Now he had less of it. And he was shorter than he used to be, or maybe more stooped over. More wrinkles but still a sweet face. And his eyes were the kindest blue she’d ever seen.
Yes, Ben was a nice man—maybe a bit dramatic, but always charming. It’d only been maybe four or five years since she’d seen him on a rare visit home over the holidays.
“How’s Betty doin’? I haven’t seen her down here on the promenade in a long time.” He leaned on the counter. His voice had grown serious, like he knew what he was about to hear.
She studied her fingertips then met his gaze. “She’s dying, Ben.”
“We’re all dying.”
“You know what I mean. She doesn’t have long. I’m here to help set her estate in order.” She held back her tears. It was a hard job. She had thought it would help to tell someone else—maybe she’d been wrong.