For The Love Of The Writer: Adult

Distracted by the everyday routine of raising children, being a wife, and keeping a home, Lorraine Morrissey let life pass her by. Her wakeup call comes when she realizes that with their children gone, her husband Richard is rarely home, and she’s filling her solitary days with trivial tasks. A crazy idea to save her marriage leads to a summer beach vacation unlike any she’s ever taken; one that involves unknowingly buying a haunted house.

Excerpt -

The fast approaching ground disappeared, replaced by an old, worn, wooden floor. I shook my head to try and clear it of the cobweb fuzziness I felt. Raising my hands in front of me, I didn’t recognize them. They were dark brown, dry, and the skin was cracked in places. They didn’t feel connected to my body either. My words got stuck in my throat when I tried to ask what was going on. Swallowing to clear the blockage, I surveyed the room. Before me burned a dwindling fire inside an old-fashioned stone hearth, and to my right, old shuttered windows were thrown open, letting the cooling night air in.

“Girl!”

The hoarse male voice startled me. I spun around, becoming aware of heavy skirts tangling in my legs.

“Yes, sir.” The voice, thick with a low country accent, wasn’t mine either, but the sound had passed through my lips. What the . . .

“How many sacks of cotton did you pick today?”

A tremor settled into my arms as panic tightened my chest. Tall and wide, the white man advanced on me. I skittered back toward the hearth at the look of hatred on his face.

“None, sir. I’s sorry, but my momma –”

“There are no excuses, Jesse. Rain or shine, y’alls task is at least two sacks a day while the cotton’s a blooming.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did your momma get her two sacks picked?”

Beyond my control, my head shook side to side, and I curled in on myself more while taking another subtle step back. Warning sirens were going off, but it was obvious, I had no say over my faculties, nor did I have any idea what was going on. “She’s got the sick, sir.”

In slow motion, his hand rose, and I took in every detail: thinning, greasy brown hair slicked back from a shiny forehead, a narrow beak of a nose stretched down the length of his long face to a thin pair of pale pursed lips. His green eyes were bloodshot with the drink that wafted from his mouth. The yellowing linen shirt he wore was opened down to his mid-chest, exposing pale, untoned flesh. Proof that he relied on others to get the work done.

“‘She’s got the sick, sir,’” he sing-songed, mocking me. “Not my problem, girl. What is my problem is that you owe me four sacks’ worth of cotton, and have nothing to pay with.”

At his words, an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. I didn’t like where this was going and took another step back, bringing me a little closer to the fire and the iron tools I could see in my peripheral vision.

“But I can think of another way that you can start paying up.”

When he came at me, I spun to grab the poker. Before I could reach the tool, arms enveloped me from behind, yanking me back until I collided with a hard chest.

When I first started reading Haunted Raine, I really didn’t think I would enjoy it. Boy was I wrong.

At first I thought it was going to be a story about a couple who’d lost each other after thirty years of marriage, as is very possible with many couples. You want to hurt for Raine and what she’s feeling, but quickly find out that she is a very smart and strong person.

As the story progresses we learn that Raine and Rick end up buying a house to fix-up and then sell, but this house has secrets. Secrets that help bring Rick and Raine back to themselves. It was an experience that changed so much for Raine.

There is also a supernatural aspect to the story that keeps you on the edge of your seat and wanting more.

Due to it being such a short story, I can’t say more without giving it all away, but if you do get a chance to get it and read it I promise you won’t regret it.

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Anela Alborn’s life is a lie. After growing up without the love of a father, her mother reveals his identity. Tragedy strikes and she sets off on an adventure that leads to more than she could ever imagine. Bumping into Christian Sivers distracts her from the real man of her dreams, her father. Will he live up to her dreams? And does she follow in her mother’s footsteps?

Excerpt—

My brown, wooden, antiquated cottage sat on top of a hill in Sausalito. The shingles were bleached out from exposure to the sun’s rays. A beautiful, naturally-worn deck wound around the small chalet and gave me one of the best views in town. The bold, red peaks of the Golden Gate Bridge were visible through the light haze of fog over the ocean. With the hot sun working overtime to clear the sky, the fog always seemed to linger around the tops of the bridge. To my left, I could look down and see the rocky shore that the tourists often frequented. The slick brown and black seals liked to sunbathe on the boulders at the water’s edge. People would gather to take pictures or have lunch in one of the quaint restaurants that overlooked the choppy, aqua-blue ocean.

I had grown up in Sausalito my entire life. With the exception of when I went to Berkley, I hadn’t adventured into the city much. Sometimes, I'd take the ferry to Angel Island with my mountain bike and take leisurely rides or run the hills. I hadn't done that since I ran out of my mother's house, either.

Now that I had packed up all of her belongings — with the exception a few things I wanted to keep — I was exhausted. As I sat on the deck of my small cottage and stared out into the vast ocean, I felt anxious about the file that sat on my lap. Lennie had given it to me at his office three days before and I had yet to open it. The fear at what I'd find seeped in and turned my stomach.

Focusing my attention, I looked down at the folder and decided the time had come to face whatever was inside. My hands trembled as I lifted the two metal prongs and opened the flap. I tipped the folder upside down to empty the contents, finding the usual white sheets of paper that were full of legal jargon. How I wished I didn't know what they meant. Sifting through it all, I found a copy of the deed to the house, which stated that it had been transferred to my name. Also, there was the pink slip to my mother's car to be filled out and mailed to the Department of Motor Vehicles, and a small envelope with my mother's messy, artsy script on the front. One word had been written on it: Anela.

Being a former military member, this story really touched my heart. I've been to Hawaii many times, and the attention to detail Forbes Arnone brings forward to this story is unbelievable. In a short amount of time you can't help but not only fall in love with Anela and Christian, but to Hawaii itself. And for me, In My Mother's Footsteps allowed me to fall in love with Hawaii all over again.

Following Anela on her discovery of family, love, and life was heart warming and heart breaking all at the same time. You're rooting for her from day one, and annoyed when you see it end. I wanted more, to be honest. LOL! I kept scrolling and wondering 'What the heck! Where's the rest?'.

And if any of you find a Christian out there, please give him my number!

If you're a romance junkie, military junkie, daddy's girl, or just love a great story, this story is for you.