The only bright spot is Ryanne’s blossoming friendship with boarder CJ Richter. Ryanne senses that CJ just might be her soul mate, but the handsome excavator is somewhat of a standoffish loner.
“Rest,” a voice whispered.
Reaching to capture her hands, she slipped away. “Ryanne…”
“Why are you calling me Ryanne?” the velvet voice purred.
“I must be dreaming”.
“You’re in the middle of a cemetery full of hundreds of souls. Why would you be surprised if I was one of them?” the voice asked.
Now he was certain he was dreaming. After so many years of excavating graves, he never once had anything like this happen. Now on his last job, the spirit of one of the bodies he disturbed had awoken from her sleep, and was now in the room with him.
It was ludicrous, he knew. In the morning this would all be just a hazy memory. “Who are you? Tell me so I can find you.”
“No one, no one at all, just a dream.”
“Nah, you’re some kind of angel. I just don’t know if you’re a sweet angel or one who’s come to tear my eyes out.”
He felt her warm breath on his face, followed by her lips pressing against his forehead. He seized the opportunity to fork his hand through her long, soft hair. A consuming feel of arousal swelled within him. Celibacy and illness be damned. “Stay with me tonight.”
In her spare time, Amie enjoys gardening, photography, and old black and white movies where the hero always gets the heroine.