M.S. Kaye has several published books under her black belt. A transplant from Ohio, she resides with her husband Corey in Jacksonville, Florida, where she tries not to melt in the sun. Find suspense and the unusual at her website. www.BooksByMSK.com.
Here's what the story is about.
Ilona discovers what it means to
have a mother who is a modern woman and a father who is a 19th-century
gentleman ghost.
After being hit by a car and taken to the hospital, Ilona
starts to realize she’s different from other people, and that her mother has
hidden the truth from her. She sneaks out of the hospital in order to discover
the truth.
A mysterious boy named Archer guides her through Brooklyn and
introduces her to Hendrick, the man who claims to be her father—though he died
in 1890.
Ilona must discover not only what she
must do to rid the city of Soll, a sadistic and powerful spirit, but also what
it means to be half ghost. She proves what her mother told her—love is stronger
than death.
Sounds interesting. So here's an excerpt.
Another twenty yards and she’d be out of
the darkness of the trees and almost to the sidewalk, within reach of the light
from the streetlamps.
A figure stepped out from behind a large
oak, directly into Ilona’s path.
Ilona stopped and searched for a way
around.
“What are you doing?” a rough voice
growled.
Ilona recognized it immediately, even
before she registered Archer’s face.
“It’s none of your business what I’m
doing,” she said.
He moved closer. “You’re making it goddamned
impossible to protect you.”
“You can’t
protect me.”
His jaw tightened, and he glared. “What in
the hell do you think I’ve been doing?”
“I’m honestly not sure.”
His voice rose. “You’d be lying frozen dead
in a gutter right now if it wasn’t for me. You saw what happened in the
shelter—you’d have been attacked by now if I hadn’t been around.”
Her tone was quiet, calm. “I know how you
scared them away.”
“I told you I have a talent for creating
fear. It comes in useful.”
“But you don’t like it.”
He said nothing.
“And I know you’ve been around,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows as if she was being
slow.
“Before you asked me if I was lost,” she
said. “You were there—when the car hit me.”
His expression sobered.
She waited for a response.
Finally, he said, “I’ve been around.”
“Will you answer one question? And be
honest?”
“I give as much honesty as I can.”
Her lips curved a little. That was perhaps
the most honest response he had yet given.
She moved closer, and he backed away.
“No,” she said.
He stopped.
“When you turned the corner and asked if I
was lost,” she said, “you leaned your shoulder on the wall. How did you do
that?”
His eyebrows pulled together.
“You’re really good at it,” she said. “It
took me awhile to realize you never actually touch anything, that you stay out
of the light, that you don’t get cold, your breath doesn’t come out in puffs in
the cold like everyone else’s, you never let anyone close, near enough to
realize you have no scent, to feel the static when you get too close.”
He took a step back, as if in self-defense.
“Don’t
try to lie anymore,” she said. “I know what you are.”
1 comment:
Thank you for hosting my book release!
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