I’ll Be Fired #MFRWHooks #holidayromance #paranormalromance

Spirits of Christmas (Wild Witches of Beaver Bay)

by Kate Hill

(Holiday Romance, Paranormal Romance)

Blurb

On Christmas Eve twenty-five years ago, a brutal murder was committed at the house where Christa Wild works as a live-in maid. When the other servants leave for the holiday this year she stays behind, hoping that any spirits dwelling there will help her regain the psychic power she lost. She’s surprised when the intriguing but disturbed owner of the house appears several days before Christmas.

Action star Joel Connor has kept a terrible secret for most of his life. Despite his success as an athlete and actor, he is plagued by flashbacks of a gruesome attack that destroyed his family. This Christmas, Joel returns to the house where it happened to face the ghosts of the past, but finds he is not alone.

Joel and Christa are instantly attracted, but will his psychological state prevent them from finding peace and love?

Excerpt:

There’s something off with him.

Joel climbed the stairs like he was headed to a funeral, and by the look of him, it should be his own. Pale. Sweaty. Tense.

It was either the flu or —

No way. If he was on drugs, Christa couldn’t stay in the house, but drug use was a logical explanation for how he looked. Didn’t a lot of actors use drugs?

Don’t profile. Lots of people in general use drugs.

Maybe it was his diet. The man was almost too thin. The last thing he needed was to cut calories. Apparently lots of actors went on diets to fit certain parts. Christa couldn’t understand that. A person’s body was their temple. Why abuse it?

Drugs. Diet.

Shoot, fame wasn’t worth it.

Christa returned to the kitchen and finished baking her cookies. After cleaning up she decided to go to her room and practice yoga before bed. She had planned on sleeping late, but now that her employer was here, she was back to work.

“Whoa!” Christa said, stepping back from the stairs.

Dressed in a sweat suit, hat, and vest, Joel practically flew down the steps.

“Sorry.” He paused, glancing at her. “I’m going for a run.”

“You just got here, and I thought you had the flu?”

He grinned. “You thought, but I said I’m fine. I’ve been trapped in my car for too long. I need air.”

Air, or his connection? Drugs. He must be on drugs. Who the hell went running at ten o’clock at night during a snowstorm?

“Be back later. Goodnight, Miss Wild.” He opened the door and stepped out.

“Call me Christa.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he winked before closing the door.

Christa hurried to the window and watched him jog down the large, circular driveway. When he disappeared behind the tall bushes lining the sidewalk, she turned and hurried upstairs.

This is so wrong. If he comes back and catches me, I’ll be fired, but I have to check.

He had left his bedroom door ajar. His open suitcase and a large gym bag rested on the bed. A laptop and several paper notebooks and file folders sat on his desk.

With a racing pulse, she carefully searched through his suitcase. Shirts, pants, socks. Normal stuff. Looking at his briefs embarrassed her a little, mostly because she knew she had no business looking through his personal belongings, but if there were drugs in this house, she needed to know. If he caught her, he’d probably think she was doing this just because he was famous, but she’d look through anyone’s stuff if she thought they’d brought drugs into a house she was living in.

There. The suitcase looked exactly like he’d left it. Now for the gym bag.

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