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Available in E Book and Print

Mike and Liz Keeny are newlyweds, new parents, and the proprietors of the Barrett Inn, an 1875 Victorian on Cape Cod, which just happens to be haunted. By their own ghosts. The Inn had become an annex of Purgatory, putting Mike, Liz, and their infant son in danger. Selling the historic seaside bed and breakfast was the only answer, one that Liz and her own tortured specter refused to consider. Were they doomed to follow the same path that led to disaster in their previous lives? Was getting out, getting away, enough?

Look, for now, we’ll just stay where we are–together. If Liz and Mike are united, then Jared and Elisabeth aren’t going to be able to get in between us.” He brushed the tears off her cheeks.

She stared at him intently, fear, maybe desperation in her eyes. “We can only talk to each other about this. Others might use any information against us.”

“Who would do that, Liz?’

Her demeanor hardened. She sat up, raised her chin. “My son. Your daughter. Sandra.”

“You’re paranoid. The kids have no inkling about ghosts. All Sandra has are theories. She doesn’t know about your incident–or my illness. And I’m not going to tell her.” Guilt twanged in his gut. Sandra had come up with all the ghostly interpretations on her own, right?

Liz jumped up. “She knows about my injury. Maybe not how it happened, but when Mae went in there to get my things, she figured out it was for me. She reads minds, or manipulates people into blabbing what they know.”

Mike lowered his voice to a whisper. “It doesn’t take much for Mae to spill information. I think you’re giving Sandra too much credit.” Yet, she did ask him about the ghosts as soon as he sat down.

“You can joke all you want, Mike, but this is serious. We can’t let anyone else in.”

“I won’t say a word about anything ghostly to anyone. As long as things stay under control.”

Liz studied him.

Mike squirmed. “I think I’m going to take a nap.” He settled back on the sofa.

She tucked the blanket around him and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll go help Mae with dinner.”

She didn’t believe him. He didn’t trust her. This was never going to work.

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Breakwater Beach

Coming Spring 2016

Liz Levine is convinced her recently deceased husband is engineering the sequence of events that propels her into a new life. But it’s sea captain Edward Barrett, the husband that died over a century ago, who has returned to complete their unfinished business. Edward’s lingering presence complicates all her plans and jeopardizes a new relationship that reawakens her passion for life and love. What are Captain Barrett’s plans for his wife, and for the man who is the new object of her affections?

Liz opened the lid of a large trunk affixed with shipping labels dated from 1865 to 1875. Inside, neatly folded, were women’s clothes, hats, and shoes. She examined a night chemise that resembled a long slip with lace trim. “This is English linen, Irish lace though."

Mae didn’t answer. Liz peeled away layers of yellowed paper. Silk and velvet dresses with coordinating hats and high button shoes were stored in their original boxes. Undergarments, corsets, garters, and hosiery were wrapped in linen bags. The aroma of lavender lingered in a sachet tucked in the corner.

"You won’t be findin’ this clothin’ in the Sea Captain’s Thrift Shop,” Mae hung the dresses in the closet.

They arranged the intimate garments in the antique dresser. Liz left the shoes and hats in the trunk and pushed it against the wall.

“How could no one have noticed these for so many years?” said Liz. “It’s too damp up here to leave them out. I'll donate them to the Brewster Historical Society and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.”

“Keep this nightgown, Miss Lizzy.” Mae hung it on a hanger over the closet door. “The sachet kept it fresh and the wrinkles will come out in time. A real lady lived here. The best of everything.”

Liz watched the girls fluffing pillows and turning down covers on the four-poster bed. Another moment of déjà vu diffused through the room.

I'm thrilled to feature the cover reveal for the third book Terri Bruce's compelling paranormal series. Be sure to scroll down to participate in the giveaway!

The Afterlife Series by Terri Bruce
Hereafter (Volume 1)
Thereafter (Volume 2)

Stuck on an island encircled by fire and hunted by shadows bent on trapping them there forever, Irene and Andras struggle to hold onto the last vestiges of their physical selves, without which they can never return to the land of the living. But it’s not just external forces they’ll have to fight as the pair grow to realize they have different goals. Irene still clings to the hope that she can somehow return to her old life—the one she had before she died—while Andras would be only too glad to embrace oblivion.

Meanwhile, Jonah desperately searches for a way to cross over to the other side, even if doing so means his death. His crossing over, however, is the one thing that could destroy Irene’s chances of returning home.

Too many obstacles, too many people to save, and the thing Irene most desperately wants—to return to her old life—seems farther away than ever. Only one thing is clear: moving on will require making a terrible sacrifice.

EXCERPT

Andras grunted, the sound filled with suspicion. Irene bent down to tie her shoelace, as much to avoid eye contact as anything. When she straightened up, something in the distance caught her eye, shimmering like a mirage. She squinted, not sure she was really seeing what she thought she saw.

“You know, now might be a good time for you to tell me what it was like to live in a castle,” she said.

Andras shook his head, sadly, as if Irene had disappointed him. “You cling too much to the past. Forget the trappings of life. Free your mind from these longings, and so, free your soul. Only then will we be able to escape these shackles and enter Heaven to rest at the side of God.”

Why did he always have to argue about everything? “For God’s sake,” she said, exasperated, “just answer the question!”

“Wherefore?”

Irene pointed to the hulking structure in the distance. “Because,” she said as Andras whirled around to see what she was pointing at, “correct me if I’m wrong, but that looks like a castle.”

“Wow!” Irene said, her eyes roving over the dark, crenellated structure hulking in the far distance. It gleamed dully, the color of burnt blood in a fading afternoon sun. “What the hell do you think that is?”

Andras grunted. “As you said—Hell.”

Irene frowned at him, but her lips quirked in amusement. “Why do you have to be so negative? It could just as easily be Heaven. God is supposed to live in a palace, right—the whole ‘my father’s house has many rooms’ thing? A castle is just a type of palace.”

Andras gave her a dry look. “Does that look like Heaven?”

Irene was on the verge of agreeing that the castle did not in any way look how she imagined Heaven when it shimmered, as if the fading sunlight had been redirected by mirrors. Light rippled across the castle’s surface and the dull, dark, burnt-blood color transformed into gleaming, bright, silver-white. Crisp white pennants flapped from the corners as if whipped by wind. Irene thought she could hear them snapping crisply.

Irene looked at Andras, and he looked at her. His expression made it clear that he had seen the same transformation she had. It was as if the building was trying to trick them into coming closer.

About the Author

Terri Bruce has been making up adventure stories for as long as she can remember and won her first writing award when she was twelve. Like Anne Shirley, she prefers to make people cry rather than laugh, but is happy if she can do either. She produces fantasy and adventure stories from a haunted house in New England where she lives with her husband and three cats.

Contact Terri

Website/Blog: www.terribruce.net

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/TerriBruce