The Hidden Door, Book 1
Secrets of Thornbury Woods
What deadly secrets still lurk beneath Hawthorne Hall? The mysterious estate stood empty for a decade, adding to its haunted mystique. Only a few know the true, tragic story from its hidden depths. Knox Pearson and his close band of friends bonded over that tragedy. Now they have a vision for re-opening Hawthorne Prep School: help at-risk teens. It’s a path to redemption for the sins of their past. But he isn’t sure he will ever escape the crushing guilt from that fateful night long ago. Sara Rutherford has battled to build her renovation business despite being a town outcast. Her natural talent and uncanny ability to “read” inanimate objects helped her make headway and defy the powers-that-be who try to subvert her success. Now her Uncle Lou, who was working at Hawthorne Hall, has gone missing. Sara’s not the woman to stop searching…and she suspects the secret passage in the estate’s library holds the key to her questions. Knox isn’t about to let her loose unsupervised on his property, so they team up to explore the underground tunnels together. When they discover the hidden sanctuary of a long forgotten secret society, Knox’s secrets can no longer hide in the shadows. But this time, it just might cost Sara her life. Discover a new gothic southern romance series, inspired by the romantic mystery stories of Phyllis A Whitney and Mary Stewart.
SNEAK PEEK
Running through the misty black night. Heart hammering. Sucking hard for breath. Barely able to make out the shape of the trees as she sped by. Unable to hear her pursuers over her gasps for air and pounding footsteps in the crunchy leaves. Just the memory of that night, Sara’s only night on the grounds of what was now Hawthorne Preparatory School, had the power to jumpstart a racing heart. She wasn’t sure why. She’d long ago convinced herself that what she’d seen and heard had all been in her pre-teen imagination. The hands grabbing at her. The struggle to get away. The sounds of someone chasing her. Her cousins had tried to scare her in retaliation for having to drag her along, she was sure. They’d vehemently denied it all these years. But standing here now, facing the ornate entry in the heavy morning mist, she told herself that it had to have been a joke played on her younger self. Why it would even faze her as a full-grown, capable adult with the weight of the world on her shoulders, she didn’t know. Sara was far too practical for that…now. Still, that residual adrenaline mixed with her present-day fear for her family, clouding her judgment of the murky surroundings and looming mansion before her. She’d like to think she wasn’t intimidated by much anymore. She’d been in hairier situations while bailing out her uncle and a plethora of aunts and cousins from their bad choices, but her instincts were screaming that whatever was beyond the massive front door was more than all that drama combined. Oddly enough, Hawthorne Prep had also been the building that made Sara’s hands itch and her heart beat a little bit harder…usually with excitement. Once known as the Ashley estate, there were over fifty rooms, multiple outbuildings, and land that stretched farther than the eye could see. Her daddy and uncle would tell her about the unusual additions to the mansion, including an indoor pool long before that was a thing and the hand-built church in the now-abandoned village. Even when she’d been a child working in the woodshop, learning woodworking first-hand at her daddy’s knee, her dad would talk about the time he’d helped build the glass dome in the winter garden conservatory or the legendary spiral staircase in the two-story library. Sara would get all fidgety thinking about the history and the grandeur, the many craftsmen who had labored over the creations here—just like she would someday. Only she hadn’t imagined her first official visit to be under these circumstances. In the early Tennessee spring morning, she stood in a thick gray mist, staring up at the imposing stone facade. The impulse to find a side door—one just for the worker bees—rose inside of her. Two weeks from now, when she joined her uncle on the library renovation job they had landed, she would have done just that. Joyfully fulfilling the dreams of her childhood. But today…today she had to march through that impressive front door despite her worn jeans and work boots. Today she wanted answers—fuck the job. She needed to know what had happened last night. Uncle Lou was in trouble. Clenching her teeth, she straightened her shoulders and marched up the short stone steps, ignoring the swirl of the fog around her boots and the eerie silence, so unnatural for a massive estate that had been turned into its second iteration of a preparatory school. This one for at-risk teen boys. Nothing spooky here. Time to put aside scary childhood memories. Despite the heavy reluctance weighing down her limbs, Sara grasped the ornate metal knocker and slammed it down three times. Why they would still adhere to this old-fashioned method instead of a modern doorbell or even a camera, she didn’t understand. Especially since she’d heard they were already hosting their first class of test students before the grand re-opening but she had to admit it added to the ambience. It made her grateful for the softly worn leather gloves she wore. Goodness only knew how many people had touched this very knocker. She had enough emotions rolling through her without taking on any others. The door emitted a deep creak as it eased open a few inches, sending unnecessary shivers racing over her skin. Sara found herself facing Cassius, the long-time caretaker of the estate. Seemed like he’d been here a hundred years—though she knew that wasn’t true—but he sure looked it. Guess the knocker wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. “Yes,” he said. His stern tone turned the simple word into a command rather than the expected question. Sara shouldn’t be surprised. Cassius had always been the epitome of grouchy, scary custodian, reminiscent of another era where shooting at people to get them off your lawn was completely acceptable here in the South. Well, that might still work for some people. Not exactly the image the new estate owners should be going for, but the fact that they’d kept him employed after over forty years of service was a credit to them. “Cassius, it’s Sara. Sara Rutherford.” The sour expression on his craggy face didn’t change. He simply stared through her as if he didn’t recognize her—or didn’t want to. “Sara of Rutherford Restorations?” she pushed. “I’m here to check on Uncle Lou.” His milky gaze finally connected with hers before flicking down her front. “You don’t have an employee badge.” What did that have to do with anything? Impatience mixed with her fears, causing her to shift closer. Still, she tried to mitigate her clipped tone. Yes, he was old, but she knew he could be a little set in his ways. “I know. I don’t start here until next week. But I need to see my uncle. He started renovating the library, remember?” Cassius narrowed the gap in the doorway as if afraid she would push her way inside. So he did remember her, but she only became pushy when pushed. She’d stay professional…for now. The extreme pull between her fears and the desire to keep this renovation job warred within her. She’d dreamed of working on that spiral staircase in the library since the first time her daddy had described it to her. It was one of her life goals. But she needed inside now. Not next week. If she could just see the library, touch Lou’s tools, then she would know. She crowded closer, her boots bumping against the threshold of the door. “Is Lou here?” The door swung a few inches closer. His aged, lined face seemed to grow even deeper crags as his watery gaze flicked over her. His wrinkly lips drew up in a knot. “Only employees are allowed inside. Mr. Knox’s orders.” “I realize that, Cassius,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to control herself by a thin thread. “But I’m here to see Lou. I need to know if he came to work today. I’m his boss, remember?” “Sorry,” he snapped from between thin lips. “Employees only.” Was Cassius just being his usual difficult self? Or was there another reason he didn’t want her to see her uncle? She narrowed her gaze on him as he moved to swing the door shut. Sara slammed her work boot into the disappearing gap. Luckily the steel toes protected her foot from the impact. Patience was now gone. “Look, I don’t care who you need to talk to, but I am not leaving until I see my uncle. Got it?” So much for professionalism. His eyes widened but she no longer cared. Family came first. Even if she lost the job, Lou was all that mattered. He’d been her rock since he’d sobered up four years ago, and she couldn’t lose him now. Fear and anger mingled below her skin. “Now let me in.” For once she could live up to her undeserved rep as a hard-assed bitch in this town. She had a fraction of a second to register the surprise dawning on Cassius’s face before something heavy slammed into her from behind and drove her shoulder into the solid side of the centuries-old door-frame. Pain reverberated through Sara’s shoulder on her way through the door, then exploded in her head as it also slammed into the frame. The pressure from behind kept her moving forward, her legs stumbling to keep up. She was several feet through the door when strong hands jerked her to stop.💙 Start the series today with Book 1, The Hidden Door! 💙
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Blurb:
She knew something incredible waited in the shadows of the abandoned mental institution, but she never imagined it would lead to love.
Jamie Dixon and her fellow video game developers set out to document the layout of the famed Harrington Institute for the Mentally Ill. Then an accident leaves her to explore the decaying buildings with only Ian, the one guy she’s crushed on since high school. Too bad he never seemed to notice she was a nerd of the girly variety.
But Ian Jameson has a secret agenda for coming to Harrington. As they uncover the ramblings of an abusive doctor, evidence of a secret prisoner and an obsession over an ancestral line, Jamie and Ian discover a passion that transcends their former workplace camaraderie.
Are ghosts leading them to the truth of Harrington’s haunted history…or to the promise of a future beyond friendship?
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CHAPTER ONE
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Jamie Dixon braced herself as the pickup truck turned off the main highway onto the road leading to Harrington Institute for the Mentally Ill. The big vehicle shifted back and forth as the ruts in the little-used road grew unavoidable. She kept as stiff as possible, trying not to bump against Ian Jameson despite the lack of space.
The temptation to lean a little closer, to let her body brush his, had been a struggle the entire ride up from Covington. She told herself she was trying to maintain her self-sufficient façade, but the truth was the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was deliberately invading his space. Even if there wasn’t much she could do about it in the truck cab. But Ian had never shown any indication of noticing her as a girl—even after seven years none of the guys in their close-knit group had—and she had no desire to push herself on him.
Even if he did smell really good at the moment.
That might not be true after a weekend spent mapping out the abandoned institute with no showers or running water. Not that she should be focused on that part of being here.
Since their first video game had gone viral, three of their group of five were here to record the interiors of the institute in preparation for building their next big thing. She’d been excited about the trip for months. The surely haunted, spooky building was right up her alley.
The fact that they even got permission from the owner was a miracle. The institute was rumored to be haunted, but the owners had never allowed investigators in before now. Maybe she’d see a ghost along with the deteriorating walls and floors.
The truck jerked as one of the tires dipped into a deep hole in the cracked asphalt. Caught unawares, Olivia’s body pitched to the side, smacking her forehead against the window with a loud thud. Instantly pain exploded, causing her eyes to water, her vision blurring for a moment.
“Easy, Becker,” Ian said.
“Sorry, man. I’m just trying to get us there before the rain hits.”
Jamie understood his urgency. They had a huge amount of equipment in the back of the vehicle, which would’ve been safer in a van, but none of them had one. With just the three of them taking the trip, it made sense to use Becker’s truck. Only the last thing they wanted was to have rain pouring down on it, and the clouds had grown thicker and lower the farther north they’d driven into the mountains.
And that would ruin every last plan Jamie had meticulously laid out before coming here.
She was distracted from thoughts of her To Do list when Ian turned toward her, twisting as best he could in a tight space. “Are you okay?”
She looked up at him, blinking her eyes a little. “Yes,” she assured him even though her temple throbbed. Because that’s what she did. As the only girl in their group of gamers, she was not about to appear weak in front of any of them. Especially Ian. The rest of the guys were like brothers to her, but she’d never been able to see Ian that way.
Probably never would.
Instead of accepting her assurance that she was fine, Ian lifted his hand to brush his thumb over the sore spot on her temple. “It’s awfully red,” he said. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
The truck shook again, and Ian cupped the side of her head as if to keep it steady. Jamie tried to tell herself it was his usual responsible self watching over her.
Under normal circumstances, Ian would have pulled back immediately. For that matter, he never would’ve touched her in the first place. Never had. But the diminishing warmth of the sun and the tingle from his skin against hers had her eyes widening, her gaze arrowing straight for his.
An almost confused expression crossed his handsome face. As if he wasn’t sure what he was feeling but his hand didn’t move. In fact, his fingers curled a little bit as if to burrow into her hair.
Jamie felt a sudden tightness around her lungs, making it hard to draw breath. She was familiar with her attraction to him. Something she’d always kept hidden from him, from the group, so she didn’t risk upsetting what they all had together. Only her close circle of girlfriends from Covington Corner knew.
But did his current expression mean…could he possibly be feeling it too? After all these years?
Slowly he pulled back, his hand curling in on itself. As he shifted back into place, what little light there was glinted off the diamond stud in his ear. Jamie blinked away a sheen of moisture from her eyes. Ian had started wearing the stud the year before. It was his mother’s, who had died in a car accident. Though it added an edge to his blue-eyed, blond boy-next-door look, every time she saw it she was reminded of his overwhelming grief when the only parent he’d ever known had been taken from him.
For a moment, she thought he might speak to her. Instead he muttered in Becker’s direction, “Just be careful. We don’t want everything wet, but it doesn’t need to be broken either.”
And there was the Ian she knew. Always watching out for them. Always worried about safety. Between the two of them, they’d been dubbed the “parents” of the group. Always taking care of the business stuff and keeping everyone on track.
Even ten years after high school, the rest of the guys were still carefree and fun-loving. Though they were able to step up when necessary. Until this last year, they’d all held stable IT jobs that put food on the table.
They needed this to work to make those resignation letters a thing of the past.
She released a low, slow breath as they continued to navigate the obviously neglected drive. That had been a close call. Knowing her tendency to relive and worry over every interaction with Ian, she forced herself to think about something else.
Instead she studied the road. The concrete had cracked like a web through the original pavement, leaving it bumpy and full of holes. Better watch closely. She didn’t need to hit her head on the window again. Then her weekend would be over really quick.
That was the last thing she wanted—that any of them wanted. The chance to explore Harrington Institute had come after a long process of repeated requests and extensive paperwork, but they were determined to represent the building as authentically as possible to set their next video game apart.
They’d built their first one right out of high school, the five members of the video game club no one in the school had ever acknowledged. They’d met in the basement, talked over things no one else cared about or understood, and unknowingly built their futures. They’d released the game indie and thought nothing of it besides a few updates to keep their skills sharp. There were no illusions that it was going anywhere—they’d just been kids, after all.
But they continued to meet on a regular basis to play with computers and coding and their love of geek lore. They’d had the idea for a sequel for years but never really moved forward on it.
Then last year, a Big Name gaming influencer had plucked their game from the obscurity of the Internet and loved it. His raves over live play had pushed their game into the spotlight, and the orders had rolled in.
They were all making a fortune in a way they’d never dreamed possible—doing what they loved. Now was the time to release a huge game number two—before the spotlight disappeared.
And Harrington Institute for the Mentally Ill was just the place to set it. Jamie had spent many, many hours researching the history of one of the most famous mental institutions of the time period in the southern United States…and every page sent shivers down her spine. Current pictures had been hard to come by, but she had no doubt it wouldn’t disappoint.
The place had been vacant for almost twenty years. Before that it had housed hundreds of people seeking treatment for everything from mild depression to psychotic tendencies. A few murders had taken place. Even more suicides.
There had to be a mystery or two left inside.
The truck broke free of the trees that had crowded against the drive. Jamie sucked in a breath as the huge building came into view.
Patterned after the Kirkbride building tradition used during that time period in the United States, three stories of brick manor stared at them with empty eyes. Jamie almost expected to see a figure appear behind one of the cracked windows. The immediate area around the buildings still had a trim sloping lawn, but what she could see of the woods from behind seemed to creep ever closer. Another shiver shot down Jamie’s spine.
“The perfect Halloween attraction, right, Jamie?” Becker asked.
The other love all of them shared—haunted houses. The thrill of the scare had led to the building of their first horror action game. The ultimate haunted house adventure—escape if you can.
“You know it!” Jamie loved all things about the creepy season. Scary movies. Haunted houses. Spooky settings and decorating for Halloween. Though she’d let that go this year knowing she’d be gone on this trip.
They all had their hands full right now.
“You’ve got brass balls, girl,” Becker said.
Not really, Jamie thought as she stared up at the broken windows, wondering if the shifting shadows were just her imagination, the movement of the truck, or something...otherworldly. She did enjoy the adrenaline rush of a good scare, but Harrington Institute was a whole other ball game. There was no telling what they might run into inside, and Jamie was a firm believer that untethered souls still lived on in some version or another after they died. She’d had plenty of time to think about it when each of her girlfriends had lost family members over the last several years.
But she wasn’t about to let the guys see how unsettled she was.
“Dude,” Becker said, the way he drew out the word telling her she wasn’t the only one impressed.
Ian remained completely silent and still as the truck wound around the circular drive in front of the colossal, creepy building, coming to a stop before the main entry steps. Jamie stared up at the vine-covered brick walls, her excitement growing, but underneath a touch of trepidation lingered that had her heart beating a little harder in her throat.
Movement in the doorway caught her attention.
“Someone’s there,” she said.
“That should be the caretaker, Vincent,” Becker said.
“Time for the adventure to start,” Ian said from right over her shoulder. She glanced back at him, only to see his gaze shift from her to the building beyond.
She wanted to say something, to return to the intimacy of earlier, but couldn’t take the risk. Instead she opened the door and slid off the high seat to land both feet on the ground.
She moved forward with Becker to meet the caretaker at the bottom of the wide stairs, even as she was conscious of Ian behind her.
“Vincent, I presume,” Becker said, holding out his hand to shake.
The caretaker looked at his hand, then over at the truck, then spit to the side. Jamie noticed that he shifted a wad of what was probably tobacco behind his lip. It ruined the almost Santa-like appearance he had going on with his gray beard and overalls. He nodded toward the tarped bed of the pickup. “That’s a lot of equipment,” he said, his tone gruff and belligerent.
Becker cocked his head to the side, obviously picking up on the same vibe as Jamie. “Well, it takes a lot to do the job we’re here for. Cameras, lighting, plus safety equipment.” He nodded towards the house. “Don’t wanna take any chances out here, this far from town.”
Vincent seemed to calm a little at Becker’s professional approach. “At least it’s not the rocks and spray paint we found from other visitors.”
Ian stepped a little closer. “Do you get a lot of vandalism out this way?”
Vincent shook his head, relaxing a little more. “Not a huge amount, especially since they hired me on full-time as a caretaker about ten years ago. I worked as an orderly the better part of thirty years when the Institute was open for business. But trespassers aren’t common. We’re too far from town for that. Just teenagers on a dare, for the most part. We keep a close eye on everything, so that helps.” He looked back at Becker. “I’m still surprised the boss is letting you in. You’re lucky he agreed at all. I guess everything being torn down is making him soft. Bring the contract?”
Becker pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. “Here’s the signed copy. And there was an electronic copy sent to the lawyer. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.”
Vincent shook his head. “I don’t understand why anyone would wanna roam around here for three days.”
Becker laughed. “We’re going to make it famous, dude,” he said, resorting to his overly laid-back manner.
“That’s all we need,” Vincent said, spitting again.
Jamie got the feeling he was expressing a feeling rather than a true need. Vincent seemed to be getting himself worked up. He started waving his hands as he spoke. “People running around, ruining things.” He turned to walk back up the steps, his voice carrying through the silence of the valley. “Raving about stuff they don’t understand. Disturbing things that shouldn’t be messed with—”
His rant cut off as he walked through the front doors of Harington. Jamie exchanged a knowing look with the guys.
“Stuff they don’t understand?” Becker asked, keeping his voice quiet. “Guess this place is as haunted as it looks…”
They all grabbed a piece of equipment out of the back of the truck, then headed up the stairs themselves.
“There should be an open foyer in the very front of the house where we can set everything up,” Jamie said.
“Are you going to be a know-it-all this whole time, James?” Becker asked.
Jamie clenched her teeth. He knew she hated it when he called her that, and she wasn’t about to let him ruin this for her. But she couldn’t resist a little dig of her own. “At least somebody did some research, Becky. We needed to prepare somehow.”
Becker smirked back at her over his shoulder. “You know I prefer to wing it.”
Ian threw in his two cents. “Don’t you mean that you prefer to waste our time wandering around aimlessly? Because we’re only getting three days. Remember that.”
“And well you should.” Vincent’s voice echoed off the high ceiling of the spacious entryway. Jamie jumped even though she knew she shouldn’t. The last thing she wanted to show was fear.
“That contract says three days. So when I come back on Monday afternoon, you’d better be packed and ready to go. Mr. Harrington may have let you come out here, but I’m gonna make you stick to the letter of the law.”
Jamie tried to distract herself from Vincent’s unwelcoming demands by taking in the incredible view of the entryway itself. The very front of the building was anchored with a long, rectangular central square from which the wings fanned out along the back sides. Stepping through the front doors led to an entry the size of a ballroom. At least two stories tall with a huge crystal chandelier that made Jamie nervous despite the metal chain anchoring it. The side walls were lined with a series of stained-glass windows leading to a grand staircase at the far end. Though the light outside was weak with the incoming storm, it still created incredible patterns in the dust on the floor.
“Beautiful,” she breathed.
That seemed to soften Vincent up a bit. He glanced at one of the windows himself. “It is beautiful. Dr. Harrington was all about showing off to anyone who visited, but he also felt like a lot of patients came in here with fear. The patterns in the windows were meant to distract them, give them something to focus on other than the turmoil in their own brains.” He shrugged. “Don’t know if it worked or not, but this is one of the few serene spots in the entire building.”
Ian set down his box. “Then it’s definitely a good place to sleep.”
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Vincent said, turning toward the back of the room. “I’ll let myself out and see y’all on Monday. Watch your step around here.” He paused to throw out, “That storm brings a lot of rain, it may wash over the road. You won’t want to be driving anywhere tomorrow.”
They watched as he disappeared into the shadows on one side of the impressive staircase facing them. Then came the sound of a door closing in the distance. Becker glanced back at them. “Isn’t he a bowl of jolly?”
They shared a laugh, then headed back out to the truck to get the equipment. Luckily set-up was fairly quick as Ian assembled some cots and a base camp, while Becker and Jamie sorted the various sets of cameras and flashlights and computers needed to map out rooms for realistic rendering.
“The generator can run some lights tonight and charging stations. We just need to reserve it so we don’t run out of gas,” Ian said.
“There’s plenty, dude,” Becker insisted.
“Maybe, but you never know when you might need it for an emergency,”
Jamie said, backing Ian up. Then again, she usually did. Ian was the sensible one in the group. It was if he’d spent a lifetime with responsibilities, unlike most unmarried 28-year-olds. He’d always been the voice of reason when the other guys were being stupid over something. Plus they didn’t fuss as much when the orders came from a fellow man, so she could usually trust Ian to take care of any unsafe nonsense that was gonna break a bone or knock a noggin.
“You know what that means, Jamie,” Becker said.
She didn’t trust the mischievous note in his voice in the least little bit.
“No lights on to keep the bogey-man away!”
She pretended to shiver, though the atmosphere here did leave her a little shaken. “Oh, Becker, I’m scared!” Then she scoffed, “What do you think I am, ten?”
“You are a girl. Aren’t they all scaredy-cats?”
“Maybe,” Ian conceded before looking Jamie’s way with a wink. “But I have a feeling this one would whoop your ass before admitting to it.”
“Touché. You know me well, my friend,” she said, glowing a little inside at his acknowledgment.
“That I do.”
The look he threw her way made her breath catch in her throat. Jamie had better be careful or she’d be seeing stuff that wasn’t there… literally!
In less than an hour, they were loading up their packs to start exploring. Jamie stared down at the map spread out on their war table.
“Okay, everyone has a copy of the map on their phones,” Ian said. “Today we will orient ourselves with this center portion.”
He indicated the central body of the building with a long finger. “This should have some of the main administrative rooms, nurses’ stations, the cafeteria, and kitchens. Then we will split up to map out each floor in B wing. Those should all be the same, mirroring each other and C wing in the other side. Except for a few key spots, like the chapel in C wing. And the basement corridors.”
“What’s down there?” Becker asked.
Jamie answered. “Medical rooms. Some doctors’ offices. And the morgue.”
“Ooh! Don’t get scared now, Becker,” Ian joked.
They all laughed as Becker flipped Ian off.
As they stood in the center of the foyer, Jamie shifted her pack to a little more comfortable position. It was heavier than she’d thought. She’d probably be hurting each night. Good thing she’d brought ibuprofen.
Each room would be measured, videoed, and photographed so that they didn’t lose any details. Plus they all had body cams to record some of the sights while walking through the building. Jamie started with the close-up pictures for details, while Becker videoed and Ian measured. Later they would split up and do all the steps on their own.
“These windows will make a killer atmospheric entrance,” Jamie said as she snapped picture after picture. Each window had a different layout. Even though they all used the same color scheme, the colors resided in different places. Their pointed arch shape reminded her of church sanctuary windows.
“We can really do a lot with those,” Becker agreed.
Jamie also took close-ups of the floor tile patterns, wall textures, and what furniture remained, all while taking notes in her travel journal for reference when she downloaded everything.
“Let’s move then,” Ian said after a final look around.
They met at the base of the staircase. “Up or down?” he asked as they took in the dilapidated majesty of what had once been sparkling marble.
“This doesn’t look like the most practical choice for a hospital,” Becker pointed out as he rested his boot on the first step.
“No,” Jamie agreed, “but from what I read, Dr. Harrington was wealthy and wanted people to be impressed. He had regular visitors from the political realm to support his work and research, along with notable scientists. I have a feeling this was as much a showpiece as anything.”
The once-white marble with gray veins rose to a first-floor landing, flanked on both sides by dust-coated, intricate iron railings. Whatever color the wide runner had once been was now darkened with age and dirt, leaving it to look like a threadbare rust stain.
“Makes sense. But one good fall and you’d crack your skull on this thing,” Becker joked. “Voila. New patients.”
“There’s actually another stairwell behind it for nurses and patients at the back of A wing,” Jamie said. “This one only goes from here to the second-floor waiting area, which is probably as opulent as the décor down here. Then you have to use the other staircases to move up and down...or the antiquated elevator system that was installed in each wing.”
“Hell, no,” Becker said with a sharp shake of his head. “I am not about getting stuck in no antique elevator.”
“For once I agree,” Ian said. “Let’s head up here, map that room, then move to the other stair system.”
Their steps echoed into empty space as they climbed.
“The second-floor waiting area was for visitors and for families of first-time admits,” Jamie explained.
For a moment they stood at the top of the stairs to take in the tattered surroundings. “Here they waited on plush sofas and were served tea while they filled out their paperwork to set them at ease. It was obviously a different environment from what their family members would be enduring.”
Thick curtains that must have reeked of affluence fifty years ago now hung in shreds from the tall windows. Only a couple of settees remained and not in any condition Jamie would have sat on. A few broken chairs and small tables were scattered around. But she could feel the echo of the elegance that had once been used to made families feel better about leaving their loved ones in this place.
Ian huffed. “He definitely knew how to make an impression, which feels strange considering these people were probably incarcerating a family member that would never be able to leave this place.”
Becker waved his hand at the room. “But wouldn’t you rather leave your family member here than in a hospital ward? He knew exactly what he was doing.”
Though it unsettled her, Jamie knew he was right. All the literature that she’d read on Dr. Harrington had been a mix of brilliant science and the ego of a man who’d always had everything go his way. But seeing it here, the difference between this room and what she knew probably lay on each side, made her feel for the people who made up the human element of this scenario.
They mapped this room quickly too, and were able to find the entry to the other stairwell. “Let’s do the upstairs rooms while there’s still light,” Jamie said.
The atmosphere in this stairwell felt really close even though it was probably twice as wide as a residential one. More space to get more people through. But the lack of windows and years of dust left it feeling claustrophobic.
They reached the next landing, which was cluttered with stacks of chairs to one side. Jamie went first, as there was only enough room for single file. Then Becker stepped in behind her, only to catch his foot somehow and fall forward. She turned back toward him when she heard him cry out, but as his body slammed down, the floor gave out beneath them.
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New Release: Haunted Heritage
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Haunted Heritage, A Secrets of Covington Corner Novella
She’d prepared to be flooded in during the storm, alone…she didn’t plan on being stranded in a haunted house with him.
With an antebellum home to protect, Olivia doesn’t waste any time in her preparations. She’d promised her employer she would take care of the place while she was in the hospital. No power and no exit route is par for the course this far from town.
But her plans didn’t include a sexy PI who seems intent on digging into her employer’s every secret. Isolated by rising flood waters, Olivia can’t get away from his questions or the heated attraction he evokes. Still she can’t shake the feeling he’s hiding something.
Will the old trunk in the attic reveal a new kind of storm? Will his investigation into a long lost heir destroy the very love they’ve both been longing for?
Chapter One
Everything’s ready.
Olivia Lanford glanced around the empty room, cataloguing her efforts.
Flashlights—check.
Lanterns—two.
Generator—gassed up.
Firewood—in the boxes to dry out.
Miss Della had taught her to be self-sufficient and prepared. Olivia wouldn’t let her down, even if her employer couldn’t be here right now. Thunder boomed outside, shaking the hundred-year-old house around her. Olivia breathed deep. Everything would be fine. She’d stayed in Miss Della’s house plenty of times during storms. The fact that this was her first time doing it alone shouldn’t make any difference.
The lights blinked; then the room went dark.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked aloud.
It was as if the house itself heard her thoughts and was determined to prove her wrong. Or maybe it had been Mr. Mason—Miss Della’s long-dead husband. The elderly woman was convinced her husband still inhabited the house, stroking her hair as she went to sleep most nights. The idea kind of freaked Olivia out, but she’d only had to deal with some unexplained slamming doors herself. That she could handle.
She reached out in the dark to turn on one of the lanterns. No sooner did the eerie white-gray light ignite, than the phone on the counter rang. The jangling noise made Olivia jump. As her heart beat in the base of her throat, she gave a little laugh. At least there was no one to witness her jitters.
“Hello?” she said after clearing her throat.
“Hey, girl!” It was her friend, Piper. “I wanted to check on you.”
“I should have known you’d be the one to call.” In truth, Olivia relaxed a little at hearing her friend’s voice. Anyone would be rattled in this big old house, alone in a thunderstorm. Right?
“It’s my day,” Piper said with a laugh. “We didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
Olivia smiled, though her friend couldn’t see it. Her close group of girlfriends had been “checking on her” since Miss Della had gone to the hospital and she’d been staying here. “I appreciate it, though.”
“Well, we all know what it’s like to be alone.”
Olivia swallowed back a surprising surge of emotion. They did. All of them but Cara had lost their families. They’d supported each other through the losses and continued to watch out for each other, including an in-person coffee every Saturday at Covington Corner. The oldest corner to grace the downtown square had seen many changes, but now housed a cute coffee shop and outdoor seating area with a fountain. Perfect for them!
“I know the phone can go out at any minute,” Piper said, “so I’ll keep it short. Since you probably don’t have reception right now, the weatherman is saying the worst of the storm will be overnight and tomorrow early, then steady rain for several days. Watch that bridge. If the phone goes, you could be flooded in without contact for several days. Check in when you can, okay?”
“I will—”
Before Olivia could finish her sentence, the line went dead.
She stared at the receiver for a moment before putting it back on the old rotary base. That was probably her last conversation for days, as it would take a while after the storm was over for repair crews to make it this far from town. The silence settled around her for a short moment before the sounds of the storm crowded in.
Instead of letting her earlier nerves press forward, Olivia went to light the fire in the sitting room and secure the house for the night. The sound of the rain beating against the sides of the antebellum house and tin roof reverberated in her ears even though she was on the ground floor. The lantern created moving shadows on the walls as she went from room to room, never quite reaching the corners.
Olivia had loaded the woodbox earlier, here near the fireplace and on the back porch. Because she’d prepped starter in the fireplace, all she had to do was set a match to it. The days weren’t too cool this far into spring, but the nights could be, especially with the old heating system cut off. Besides, a fire would help her feel warmer…less alone…more settled, maybe?
Twenty minutes later she had a growing fire, warm pajamas, no bra, and her own comfy nest on the sofa. The flickering flames created points of light that shimmered off the fireplace bricks, golden picture frames on the walls, and the edges of the antique furniture. Olivia smiled over her fluffy blanket, hot chocolate, romance novel…everything inside of her relaxed.
She’d only read a couple of paragraphs, just enough to commiserate with the heroine’s bad first impression of the hero when an odd noise caught her attention.
Olivia cocked her head to the side. Was that more thunder? A tree falling?
No.
The repetitiveness of the thud negated her previous thoughts. What was that? She stood, staring back into the darkness of the house, the heat from the fire kissing her neck.
But she wasn’t soothed. All her senses jumped to high alert.
The next recurrence had her grabbing the flashlight from the side table. Her very special flashlight. Because that was a knock—at the front door.
Who in the world would be out here at this time of night? In this kind of storm?
For just a moment, a brief hope surged that maybe one of her brothers had taken it on himself to check on her. Maybe they cared enough— She quickly pushed it away. They wouldn’t even know where to look for her if they were even so inclined.
Which they wouldn’t be.
She edged toward the door with caution. Checking her cell was useless. It wouldn’t work in the house. But she doubted her girlfriends could reach her if she needed them, anyway. Another knock had her jumping. Then the knock turned to pounding.
“I hear you…” she murmured.
Finally she stepped into the foyer and let the beam from the flashlight hit the glass insert on the front door. A shadow shifted on the other side. A tall shadow. What the hell?
She gripped the little flashlight tight in her hand and made her way to the door. The glass insert was beveled, leaving it wavy with no clear picture of who was on the other side. Her breath sped up, sounding loud in her ears.
Olivia forced herself to think quick. Moving forward, she attached the rarely used safety chain across the door. Only then did she release the lock and pull the door open—but just a couple of inches.
“Yes?” she said to the dark figure on the other side, hating her need to clear the tightness from her throat. “May I help you?”
A man stepped into the beam of light. His dark, encompassing hoodie and faded jeans and boots that looked like he’d been wading through the mud gave a criminal first impression. Olivia couldn’t see many details of his face, except for a blondish-brown beard and abundant drops of water dripping from his clothes to the ground.
Behind him, rain washed through the air in heavy sheets that did not bode well for anyone stepping off this porch.
Not that she’d be giving him any other choice.
Fact was, she was a young woman here alone. She didn’t know this man, but she had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to be here. She kept a firm grip on the flashlight despite the door chain.
“Yes?” she asked again.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Mason.” The voice was deep, confirming he was male, and not someone she recognized.
Her stomach tightened. “She can’t come to the door right now.”
Olivia resorted to the standard southern reply. She didn’t want him knowing she was here alone. Let him make of it what he would.
“I was told this is where Mrs. Della Mason lived,” he said again. “It’s urgent that I see her.”
“Well, she can’t see you. And the power is out, so now’s not a good time. You’ll have to come back.”
“Look, it’s important.” He stepped closer to the door, blocking out sight of the rain with his broad shoulders. “It’s about her family.”
His urgency made her uneasy enough to shift on her feet. “Well, it can wait until morning. Good night.”
As she tried to shut the door, he stuck a muddy boot inside. “Look, lady. I will see her now.”
Excuse me?
Olivia's heart raced. She gripped the handle, wondering if she’d actually have to defend herself. She kept her tone firm. “You’ll do no such thing. Get back in your car and go home.”
“I haven’t come all this way just to come back tomorrow.”
Wow. This guy’s aggressiveness had all her alarm bells going off at once. Even this close, she could barely make out long lashes, a straight nose, and full lips. Surprisingly sexy lips. Every nerve ending stood on end as she glanced down at his boot, trying to determine her options.
“You don’t have any choice,” she said, not sure how she would back that up.
“Why?”
His persistence pushed her from uneasy to angry. “Go away!” she yelled as she stepped back, glancing around for something to defend herself.
Suddenly the door jerked from her hand. His grunt made her think he’d pulled it away, but then the door slammed hard against his foot. He stumbled back with a cry. Eyes wide, Olivia watched in shock as the door then banged shut…and the deadbolt clicked.
It took her a minute. She stared, trying to comprehend. Then she murmured, “Thank you, Mr. Mason.”
Serves you right, asshole…
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New Release: Shadow Manor
Secrets of Covington Corner Novella
LIVE TODAY! Read Chapter One below!
She’d watched him from afar for years…now he’s up close and personal.
Shy librarian Cara spent her life overshadowed by her three older brothers, while secretly crushing on their best friend. After a family tragedy, he cut himself out of their lives, but she still watches his house on the hill from the darkness of her bedroom every night.
Then she gets a second chance to reveal the man behind the mask. A night of revelry leads to passion and high hopes, until her tortured hero’s troubled past rises from the shadows.
Will he retreat into the darkness once more or let obsession lead him to her love?
CHAPTER ONE
Cara Gatlin strode down the hillside path in the dark, intimately familiar with every twist, turn, and buried root that might trip her up.
Despite her mother’s many admonishments to not walk on the land that was no longer theirs, Cara couldn’t keep herself away. It called to her on long nights when her restlessness grew until she couldn’t sit still. Tonight that restlessness mixed with an overwhelming anxiety that came with the bombshells from work this week.
Besides, walking here was also her quiet form of rebellion against its new owner…under the guise of giving her parent’s new puppy a good workout before bed. Bernard might still be a baby, but his long legs and gangly body didn’t understand that.
Tonight, of all nights, Cara needed to be out in the crisp autumn air—moving, breathing, living in more than just the history books she worked with every day.
The well-worn path across the wooded hill bordering her parents’ Tennessee farm provided just enough incline to challenge her, just enough familiarity to comfort her. And hopefully the puppy would sleep all the better for running around her on the trails.
As if on cue, she found herself standing in a tiny clearing about three quarters of the way up the hill. The mature trees closed around her, providing protection. But years had taught her that standing in just the right spot gave her a clear view straight to the top… and the tall antebellum-era mansion that had stood like a monument there for so long. She could hear Bernard rustling in fallen leaves, then give a sharp bark before running off into the woods.
The two-story, boxy structure gave it a looming appearance from this angle, where the intricate wrought-iron work on the balconies blended with the darkness. Now that only one person lived there, the upper floor often remained still and inky-black. Cara was ashamed to acknowledge that she often tracked its inhabitant’s presence through the lights on the lower floor.
“What are you doing here?”
Startled, Cara spun around.
His voice was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Not the boy’s voice that she remembered as scraggly and newly deepened. No, this was the man’s voice, deep and smooth as fine bourbon, with the same amount of burn. The voice she’d heard on the news throughout the years speaking about responsibility to community and his goals of helping their fellow citizens through providing good jobs in his family’s factories.
A voice that she woke in the night thinking about, dreaming about.
Though he lived within sight of her apartment above her parents’ garage, she hadn’t actually seen him in person or spoken to him since the funeral when he had been eighteen. Ten years ago now.
Realizing that several moments of silence had passed, she pushed away her quick flash of embarrassment and answered, “I’m walking…I could ask you the same.”
“I’m not a woman in the woods, alone in the dark. That doesn’t seem to be the most prudent of decisions.” He stood several feet away, in the deepest of the darkness surrounding them. But she’d know him anywhere. The fact that he was actually present, not too far from her, sent an illicit thrill down her spine.
She tried to immerse herself in anger instead. “I’ve walked these woods all my life. I’m perfectly safe.”
“And trespassing.”
She didn’t have a justified stand against his accusation, but the quick flare in her internal fire was welcome. “I’m not hurting anything by walking here.” The strict rule-following part of her personality said her excuse was weak, but it was true, nonetheless. Just like with her brothers, she felt the sudden need to defend her choices. “I can assure you, I know how to protect myself,” she insisted.
Silence fell. Her anger faded into a sense of uneasiness that made her shift, crunching brush beneath her boots. In all the years she’d walked the trail up the hill, she’d never run into another soul. What was he doing here?
The successful businessman who lived in the house at the top of the hill. Cara’s mortal enemy.
Jacob Montgomery was a man she should never let occupy a single thought in her brain. After all, he’d walked away from her and her family despite all they’d done for him. Oh, they hadn’t had the riches or influence his family had flaunted, but when he was a child, they’d given him love and acceptance and a welcoming home away from his parents’ indifference.
As much as Cara resented it, resented him, Jacob was never far from her thoughts. An obsession she hoped her family never found out about. They would surely see it as a betrayal.
Jacob took a few steps closer, giving her a glimpse of the boyhood half smile she remembered—and never saw on TV—before the moon moved behind a bank of clouds.
Those appearances on the news only showed the super serious side of him. Never smiling or laughing. Always with a deeply contemplative expression, as if everything in life were to be pondered and picked apart. Which made her wonder just how hard his parents’ deaths had been on him.
As if on cue, she heard a rustling to her left, a low growl, then a dark shape sprang from the bushes to crowd the space between her and Jacob.
The lanky gray pup wouldn’t harm a fly, she knew, but he talked a good game with his whiny teenage growl. One day his ferocity would grow into his body and become truly intimidating. But just like her brothers, his personality was all protector with no aggressor.
She stepped forward to lay her palm on the puppy’s head, his height giving her the gift of not having to bend over. Bernard instantly sat back on his haunches and waited, but she could feel an alert tension beneath her fingers as she pet his neck.
“I guess I wasn’t alone after all,” she boasted.
Jacob braced his legs, his all-masculine stance enhanced by the arms folded over his chest. Had his shoulders really gotten that wide or was it a trick of the full moon that had her heart beating fast for all the wrong reasons?
“So that’s where all those soulful howls are coming from at night?”
She guessed the sound probably traveled up the hill to his place, if he was ever there to hear it…
“My parents got him recently. He sleeps better at night after a little walk.” Which wasn’t the only reason she was out here tonight, but it was the only one she was willing to share with him.
Her long-lost friend. Fantasy lover. Voted most out of reach for a lowly librarian.
“You didn’t say what you were doing out here.” She didn’t want to know, shouldn’t want to know, but she pressed for an answer anyway. Though he’d bought the land when her parents had been forced to sell it to pay for her brother’s medical bills, Jacob’s presence was highly unusual after all these years.
“Walking off the demons.”
Too honest. Too raw. Cara’s body went on alert, as did Bernard’s, rising to his feet as if in preparation to defend or run, she wasn’t sure which.
“I apologize for questioning you, Cara,” Jacob said, though his tone didn’t indicate any such thing. “I forgot I was dealing with a grown woman.” He moved a few steps closer, not intimidated by the big animal between them. “One old enough, and smart enough, to receive the state wide smarty pants commendation. Or should I say, the Jenkins Memorial Librarian Excellence Award?”
A jolt of surprise shot through her. Yes, the announcement from earlier in the week that she’d been chosen for a state wide award for preserving the special collections in the district library had made the news, but not the front page, like he usually did. Why would he have paid attention to that?
Only a moment later did she register the smarty pants remark, which was a phrase he and her brothers had teased her with many a time growing up. The reference was disconcerting, as was him bringing up the very thing that had left her anxious tonight.
For just a single hour, Cara wished for someone to hold her, encourage her, and tell her how the hell to get through the special event she now had to attend to represent her district at the state capital in a few weeks.
Didn’t the Powers That Be realize librarians preferred books to people?
Desperate to focus on something besides herself, she blurted out, “Special collections is nothing compared to running a company that keeps half the county employed.”
Why, oh why, did she say that? The last thing she wanted was for him to think she’d been keeping tabs on him. Even if she was…
He cocked his head to the side in a move she’d seen so many times when he was younger. But the night was too dark for her to read his expression this time. She stroked Bernard, anxious for his comforting warmth in this awkward situation.
“Well, considering your most recent collection is on my family and my father’s art, in particular, I’m grateful to know it’s in good hands.”
His words did not match his tone. Instead irritation seemed to ooze from beneath the surface of his words. Cara had forgotten that little tidbit…and the many times her requests to his lawyer for additional information and materials had been met with utter silence.
Before she could gather her courage to ask about that, he said, “Well, grown-up Cara, I believe I’ll let you get back to the house.”
The tension in her dropped a degree as he turned away, only to rebound as he paused to look back at her over his broad shoulder. “But I believe I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
Breath suspended in her lungs as he disappeared beyond the tree line. His final words circled in her mind.
“Why?” she called out, confused by the encounter after ten years of silence. Ten years of only seeing him on the screen. Knowing him only through her research on his family.
Her only answer was the whine of Bernard beside her, and the rustle of crisp autumn leaves in the night breeze.
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It's Party Time!
ENTANGLED WITH THE HEIRESS is out in the wild! I'm so proud of this book, which came to me during a dry spell in my creativity. The heroine, Trinity, struggles so hard to do what's right and finds herself judged at every turn. I loved seeing her finally receive the happy-ever-after she deserved.
I hope you'll check it out (links below). Also, join me on the Harlequin Desire Author's Facebook page on Tuesday, January 7th, for an all day party with my fellow release authors for this month. We're going to have games, book stuff, and some giveaways in celebration of our releases.
ENTANGLED WITH THE HEIRESS, Louisiana Legacies
While gaining the heiress’s trust, will he lose all self-control?
Hired to go undercover and discredit the widow of a millionaire philanthropist, investigator Rhett Brannon is torn. With her vulnerability and dedication to her late husband’s legacy, Trinity Hyatt doesn’t fit his preconceptions of a gold digger. Even so, Rhett is determined to get to the truth behind her intentions. But will his growing attraction to Trinity destroy everything they’re both fighting for?
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I’m offering a few select readers the chance to read these books early! I have my very own Advanced Review Team, and I’d love for you to be a part. That means you’d get the chance to read my upcoming books BEFORE RELEASE DAY! All I ask is that you leave an honest review of the book on Amazon (and any other review sites you frequent) on the actual release day.
Does the thought of free books pique your interest?
Well, here’s what you do:
- Sign up for my newsletter (if you haven’t already).
Only newsletter members are eligible for this special opportunity. I assume if you’re interested in my books, you’re interested in information on upcoming releases and events. Newsletter members only receive an email every 4 to 6 weeks, so no spamming. (P.S. Joining my newsletter means getting a FREE novella too—SNOW BOUND, part of my Small Town Secrets series.)
- Then send an email to readdaniwade (at) gmail.com with the subject: Advance Reading Team.
- I will send out an email when a new release is scheduled.
- I’ll send an ARC of the book approximately 2-3 weeks before the release day.
- You get to read it! Yay!
- I’ll send you a final email the day before the book releases. This is a reminder e-mail to let you know your review should be posted to Amazon and any other e-book retailers or sites you feel comfortable posting to (Goodreads, B&N, etc.), on one of the following 5 days. You can even write it ahead of time and have it ready to copy and paste on release day.
- ART members may also get exclusive access to some content or special surprises. You’ll have to join to see…
But there are a few series I’m still hooked too. I try to watch them on Netflix when I can fit them into other things. I’m in love with Criminal Minds, with that smart team and sexy heroes. I’ve also been roped into Supernatural, thanks to Book Worm. The thing I love about series is the recurring characters—it gives me a chance to know more and more about them.
I love the same thing about book series. I’ve written 2 Indie series now, which still have books in the works. I started my first with Harlequin last August, the Mill Town Millionaires. The second will release in a few short weeks. THE BLACKSTONE HEIR is the story of Jacob Blackstone, and the son he didn’t know he had with the woman he thought was all wrong for him. Boy, does he learn differently!  I’m also working with my editor on Jacob’s twin, Lucas Blackstone’s book. Can’t wait!
Do you have a favorite book or tv series you’re obsessing over right now? Share (I could always use a new obsession!).
Dani
THE BLACKSTONE HEIR, Mill Town Millionaires Book 3
Available for Pre-order Now.
"I WANT MY SON."
When Jacob Blackstone sees his former flame holding a baby with the Blackstone blond curls, the Southern millionaire knows the child is his. But why would down-on-her-luck bartender KC Gatlin keep Jacob's heir a secret? Now the bachelor who wanted a family on his own terms must rush to convince the fiercely protective beauty he's daddy material.
KC must tell Jacob the truth about why she kept his son from him or risk losing her beloved baby. When the gorgeous mill owner suggests a trial run at domesticity, she can't resist. But is true love part of this baby deal? 
Yes, BENEATH THE SURFACE is live on Amazon! I'm working on the other sites as we speak. It's on sale for a week only at 99 cents! Get this start to my new series before the price goes up.
Enjoy!
Dani