Rachel has returned to Havenport, for one last glimpse at Havenport Manor. She’s lost something precious, a locket, and as she searches all over the Manor, memories flood her. Just when all is lost, she discovers she must forgive the one person who’s betrayed her.
What reviewers say about The Witching Hour,,,
“Ruth A. Casie tells a story of true love, family, friendship, betrayal and secrets in this sweet novella. Grab the tissues and prepare to take a journey with Rachel Emerson, trust me you won’t be disappointed! I couldn’t put the book down!” – Reviewer at Amazon
“Casie is one of my favorite authors and she has the uncanny ability to suck you into a story with an emotional response. The ending moved me to tears.” – Reviewer at Amazon
The Witching Hour
Lost: One locket filled with timeless memories and a love that should have lasted an eternity.
Rachel Emerson led a charmed life. Steffen Burkett, her greatest love was everything a woman could want, and he was hers. But before the wedding invitations were sent, the wedding was cancelled.
Fast forward thirty years. Rachel returns to her beloved home Havenport Manor on Halloween eve, the day before the house becomes the property of the Historical Society. For years she’s mourned the loss of her locket, her only connection to Steffen. As she searches all over the manor, she is flooded with memories. Going home takes Rachel on a journey of self-discovery and possibly even reconciliation.
An Excerpt from The Witching Hour
The week before Halloween, on her way home from an afternoon of gathering seashells at the town beach, intent on getting her favorite hamburger and fries at Mellie’s Diner, she carefully approached Water Street ready to cross.
Water Street followed the coastline and was a series of serpentine curves that led to a straight-away as it came into Havenport. The last curve, the one everyone called Killer Curve, carried a double punch. A sharp curve and steep rise not only obscured on-coming traffic, but if you didn’t slow down before the drop, well, you could wind up on the beach, if the tide was out.
With nothing in site, Rachel stepped off the curb. Out of nowhere, she found herself in the cross hairs of an oncoming car. Startled, and incapable to make sense of what was happening, she stood frozen in place.
Breaks screeched filling the air with the odor of burnt rubber. Finally, Rachel came to her senses and jumped back toward the curb, but landed badly, her ankle on an odd angle, and fell to the ground. The car skidded to a stop inches away from her.
The door swung open, the engine still running, and from her position on the asphalt, she stared at a pair of muscular legs. Rachel worked to catch her breath. Her sunglasses had gone flying and with the sun glaring into her eyes, she didn’t recognize who stood over her.
“Jeez, I could have—. Don’t move. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” Rachel sat up, groped for her sunglasses. He plucked them out of the street and handed them to her. She put on the twisted frames. Her eyes traveled from his muscular legs, up his bare ripped abdomen and chest to his concerned eyes. Who is he? A tourist? He helped her to her feet.
“See.” Her leg buckled and she got lightheaded.
“Whoa.” He had fast reflexes. He caught her before she hit the ground.
He easily held her as if her hundred and ten pounds were nothing and he didn’t appear eager to put her down. His hazel eyes were striking but his smile…took her breath away.
Rachel sniffed the air. “Skunk?”
“Yeah, you can still smell it? My map flew out the window. When I picked it up, a skunk sprayed me.”
“Don’t tell me. You stopped at Constitution and Manor.” She wanted to kiss that little critter.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“We’re old friends. Did you give the critter the shirt off your back?” He threw back his head and let out a peal of laughter.
“No, I burned it on the side of the road. I didn’t want to smell up my car. I’m Steffen Burkett. My family moved to the old Dyer place. Let me take you home. It’s the least I can do.” He placed her in the passenger seat.
“I’m Rachel Emerson. We’re practically neighbors.” It was a toss-up. She couldn’t decide whether it was almost becoming another Killer Curve statistic or the handsome Steffen Burkett that caused her to be lightheaded.
Yeah, she shamelessly played it up to keep his attention.
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