After her life crumbles all around her, young widow Emma Clayton escapes Atlanta to an estate gifted to her by her deceased husband’s mother. There, she hopes to come to terms with her grief and learn how to pick up the pieces of her reality. But her new home is filled with history and secrets.
One
“If you were fortunate, you might meet a few important people who were right for you at that moment. Not because the timing was perfect or the other person was perfect, but because together everything made sense. While it may or may not last forever, the ephemeral nature of life just made it imperative that you cherish every second you had with that person.”
Two
My heart danced inside of my ribcage. I couldn’t recall the last time I felt so free and so damn alive. Every one of my senses was heightened. The sun bathed the area in a golden light. The air was fresh and full of life and warmth. Standing below the wavering trees, the heat of the sidewalk radiating through the thin soles of my boots, I felt the new beginning I’d been searching for since Andrew had died. “
Are you going to paint me? Like this?” I scooped up one of the pink flowers on the ground and tucked it behind my ear.
“Now, you look perfect,” he muttered.
Everything around me blurred, taking on a slightly muddled quality, yet not fading entirely. On the periphery of my consciousness, I knew I wasn’t quite in my world or Elizabeth’s, but that awareness wasn’t enough to pull me out of the moment.
Three
The sounds of tree frogs and chirping crickets mixed with the masculine laughter trickling from the windows lining the parlor. A warm, almost dream-like breeze swayed the limbs of the magnolia trees overhead, rustling their thick, waxen leaves and
filling the air with a sweet, lemony scent.
When I angled my head to look at Henry, he was peering up at the sky. His forgotten cigar rested on a patch of dirt next to the blanket. A trail of smoke curled upward, twirling above us, then evaporated into the darkness. The soft, rosy glow of the moonlit night highlighted the sharp angles of Henry’s handsome face. I adored everything about this man, from his thick dark hair to the proud jut of his chin and jaw. Most of all, I loved how he always indulged me even when I was doing ridiculous things. After a while, he turned his face toward mine. His golden eyes were so achingly familiar, they jolted my heart. There was something possessive and raw in his countenance as he lay there looking at me.
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Within a year of self-publishing her first book, Jill Ramsower quit her job as an attorney and dedicated her days to churning out romantic adventures. She likes to think of her books as contemporary romance with a touch of fantasy—at its core, her writing is about the connection between two people. Sometimes that connection involves a little magic…
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