Autumn, 1867
Willow Pinch lives life on a razor’s edge in world of deception and disguise. By day she hides in plain sight as Will, a servant boy. Nights are spent as a table knocker, aiding so-called spiritualists in duping townsfolk into believing loved ones speak from the grave. That is until the ghosts of Last Light Point unmask her before the only man she’s ever cared for. Dare she trust Morgan Blackwell with her secrets?
Morgan invests every hard-earned penny in The Crowe’s Nest. He doesn’t trust strangers. Yet the last thing he expects are charlatans hell-bent on destroying his reputation with so-called séances. Not to mention there are ghosts in his tavern now! Be damned, must he turn his back on the infuriating woman he longs to protect?
Will the dead of Last Light Point guide Willow and Morgan to lasting love? Or will the dark forces they’ve unleashed lead to ruin?
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“Good morning, indeed, Mr. Blackwell. A fine day, it promises to be. Thank you for such lovely accommodations. Your cook is quite good, considering we’re in a small town such as Last Light Point.”
Morgan hmphed his annoyance, finding it impossible to even fake niceties for the annoying woman. “It’s true. Widow Marsh does a fine job. I’m grateful for her help. Although…she’s not typically so generous with her portions.”
The overly plump pigeon of a woman dabbed at pursed lips before setting a linen napkin aside. “Betsy told me you are planning improvements to The Crowe’s Nest. Renovating the upper rooms to create a real inn. Offering an expanded menu here in the taproom. Although I cannot see why,” she said haughtily. “You should stick to what you do best. Serve ale to brash men.”
“Is that so?” Morgan struggled not to engage with her. “And Betsy, is it?” He cocked a brow, scowling at the linens on the table. “I see she’s given you our very finest. Things purchased to be used once the renovations are completed. Not before.”
“Did you now?” Morgan gave a humorless laugh as suspicion coiled in his gut.
Roland Thornsby arrived with the lad just then, wrestling a large, flat crate inside. “Put your back into it, boy,” he barked at Will.
Morgan watched as a flicker of hatred crossed the skinny boy’s face right before he dropped the heavy thing on the older man’s foot.
“Ouch, me bloody foot,” he cried out in pain. “I think you crushed my blasted toes, you little turd.” Roland reached for the lad. “I’m going to make you bleed for this.”
“Hey, none of that in my place,” Morgan bellowed. He positioned himself between Will and the angry man. “Accidents happen. Perhaps you should be asking a man to help you with such a heavy load. Not some half-starved kid with barely a muscle.”
Gertrude was out of her seat in an instant, and she twined her arms around her husband, as if to protect him. “No harm done, Roland, my darling. I can assure you, Mr. Blackwell, Will is not starving. We feed the boy well. He’s just in that awkward growing stage. Nothing sticks to his bones. He’ll probably shoot up like a weed tomorrow.”
She laughed, the irritating, high-pitched sound grating on Morgan’s last nerve. His gaze flipped from her to the crate on his floor. “What’s in that thing, anyway?”
Gertrude left Roland and sidled up to him instead. She tugged Morgan down by the collar of his shirt to whisper in his ear. “A mirror. A very special mirror. One I’m quite proud of. But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. I’m going to use it tonight and surprise my sitters. Then everyone will know. People will talk. They won’t be able to contain themselves.”
KATHRYN HILLS - The rich history and many mysteries of New England are the perfect backdrop for many of Kathryn’s books. Winding roads lined by old stone walls, forgotten cemeteries, grand homes with shadowy pasts...all sparks for her imagination. Whether it’s a quaint seaside town or the vibrant city of Boston, it’s easy for this “hauntingly romantic” author to envision the past mingling with the present. No surprise, some of Kathryn’s favorite stories include ghosts! Sprinkle in some magic, and you’re off on a great adventure.
When not writing, this best-selling author is reading, researching, gardening, or cooking up something special in her chaotic kitchen. She shares her colonial home in the north woods with those she loves most – her wonderful husband, daughter, and three crazy dogs.
Find links to Kathryn's books, social media, and much, much more at kathrynhills.com.
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Nancy
