Hot Encounters Book 2
The sins of the past will come back to haunt you.
Past catastrophic events have stripped Amy Drew of her psychic powers. Hoping to heal, she has moved to a quiet Southern town to help her brother restore a decaying plantation house. Belle Ruisseau is eerily familiar, awakening visions of a time long past, and memories that are not Amy’s own. Local legend has it the house is haunted, and when human remains are discovered in the cellar, Amy senses danger—and much more.
From her very first encounter with the ghost of William Red Feather, Amy sizzles with desire for the beguiling spirit. But shadowy past-life secrets separate them, and as more evidence becomes known to her, she soon realizes mysterious deaths at the plantation—both past and present—all point to her phantom lover. For William has his own connection to the plantation. A connection that threatens to unearth a dangerous secret that just might result in Amy’s death—all over again.
*This book is a revised version based on Shadowkeeper, previously published by Ellora's Cave, Inc.
The Hot Encounters Series
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Read An Excerpt from summon me
“William Red Feather,” she called, the tremor in her voice betraying her anxiety.
A pigeon fluttered somewhere upstairs. The big old house creaked. She paced through the central hallway, scanning the worn walls, the eroded ceiling, the dusty stairs and the yawning empty rooms. The four-poster bed loomed in the room to the right, drawing Amy magnetically.
Holding the sage high to disperse the pungent smoke, she followed her instincts and moved into the bedroom. “William?” This time her voice was but a whisper. “Are you here?”
She turned to smudge the doorway, continuing to breathe in the protective smoke.
The temperature in the room plummeted and then a bone-rattling chill shook her to the core. A presence slithered up behind her and she stiffened. This wasn’t William’s energy.
She whirled as a scarlet-tinged effervescent shadow began to sparkle near the bed. Amy froze. The apparition took shape, glittering and growing until she could make out the transparent form of her spirit lover in the murky darkness of the room.
Adrenaline thrummed through her veins. Her knees were shaking so violently, she groped for the support of the doorjamb. She was blindsided even though she’d expected this.
Then he materialized into a very solid, very real, very dangerous-looking man.
Amy’s mouth went cotton dry. She opened her lips to speak but no sound would come out. Instead, she gaped at William, surprised once again by his strikingly overt masculinity.
He looked to be in his thirties although from his slightly faded appearance, she couldn’t be certain. He was tall. So much taller than she would have guessed when he was in her bed. His shoulder-length, midnight hair was drawn back loosely with a leather tie. Two scarlet feathers hung over his shoulder in brilliant contrast to his voluminous white shirt.
He looked every bit the Native American with the exception of his distinctly Caucasian-looking nineteenth-century clothing. His posture was cautious, accentuating the hard, flat planes of his chest and abdomen visible through the open shirt. His black trousers creased and pulled in all the right places. Amy found him devastatingly attractive.
Something hot and liquid unfurled inside her. This absolutely gorgeous, powerful man had made love to her. Mesmerized, she could only stare. A hint of stubble shadowed his strong jaw. Thick black lashes framed his even blacker eyes.
A tightly reined sense of power and control lurked under the polished veneer of a man perfectly suited to his era. She knew there was more to him than met the eye. So much more.
She couldn’t stop thinking, This is the man made love to me last night.
A hot blush crept up her neck and stole into her cheeks.
And then the thought slammed her that he’d all but admitted to killing Sarah Winston. Amy sucked in a breath.
Had he also killed Eddie?
And attacked Charity Clanton?
Her intuition warred with the evidence.
William stepped toward her. “Sarah…” His tone was feathersoft. “I told you not to come back here.”
With a sharp gasp, she backed away. “My name isn’t Sarah. It’s Amy.” She was shaking.
His brooding black eyebrows sank even lower. His gaze swept her from head to toe. Amy felt exposed. Naked. “Your appearance, your clothes are different.” He gestured toward her jeans. His smoldering, black eyes were unsettling in their intensity. “But your kisses are as passionate as I remember.”
God, he was sexy. Amy wished the floor would swallow her up. A ripple of heat traveled up her spine, threatening to make her swoon. She’d come here to call him out, to demand an explanation, but instead all she could think about was crawling into that dusty old bed with him.
He took another step toward her.
Her intuition railed at her that he was a man who could be trusted. The hungry look in his eyes told her something altogether different.
Coming to her senses, Amy pointed the sage smudge stick at him as if it were a weapon. “Stop.”
He ignored it and stalked her. His warm gaze dropped to where the crotch of her jeans outlined her body, leaving little to the imagination. A leering but devastatingly seductive smile curled at one corner of his sensuous mouth and then he lifted his unmistakably seductive eyes to hers.
Amy was breathless. Her back found the other side of the doorjamb. She felt trapped. “Did…did you kill Eddie?”
He continued toward her. He was so much bigger than she’d thought. So tall. So broad.
“Sarah, you know me.” He seemed hurt and confused. His stare cooled. He studied her, his features hard and set.
“I told you, I’m not Sarah.” Her heart hammered.
He took the final step, closing the distance between them and wresting the burnt out smudge stick from her hand. He was so close she could feel the savage energy emanating from his spirit. So close…
He no longer looked like a ghost. He looked like a man. A real, flesh and blood breathing man, solid and unyielding and incomparably capable of doing anything he wanted with her. He certainly felt like a real live man.
Amy desperately searched his eyes. How could she have been so foolish? The crystal and the sage were useless against him. Had she really been stupid enough to think she had the power to prevent him from doing whatever he willed? She felt as if she were shrinking in his presence.
She gasped as one big arm encircled her waist. The fingers of his other hand threaded through her tumult of honey blonde curls in a caress as soft as spun silk. Her knees went weak as he lifted a lock of it to his face and breathed in the scent of it. “Your fragrance is not the same.” His voice was slightly raspy, masculine and very, very seductive. “But it is pleasing just the same.”
Amy resisted the urge to melt into his arms. She wanted nothing more than to succumb to his blatant sexual advances again but she fought to remain focused. She forced an image of Charity Clanton cowering behind the staircase to rise in her thoughts. “What happened to Charity?” she demanded, finally wringing herself free of his potent spell. “Did you do that?”
One of his eyebrows arched angrily. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he pinned her with a murderous stare.
“She said a ghost attacked her.”
“Why did you not heed my warning?” His calloused hand cupped her face and tilted it up to his.
Amy’s pulse stampeded through her veins. “I have to know what happened to Eddie and Charity.” She trembled. “I have to know you didn’t do anything to either of them.”
“All I know is that I’ve waited for you,” he purred. “I thought you were dead and now I’ve found you again.” His warm breath feathered her cheeks. “And this time, my dear Sarah, I will never let you go.”