Deceptive Inheritance Jennifer Anne Davis (Remnants of the Lost, #1) Publication date: June 9th 2026 Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Laney Lake transfers to Stonemore University with a plan: two years of freedom before real life drags her back home. After a lifetime of overprotective parents and careful rules, she’s determined to finally live by making friends, saying yes more often, and experiencing the things she’s always been told to avoid.
Then Rowan Ward notices her.
To the rest of campus, he’s the rugby captain. He’s charming, confident, and impossible to miss. To himself, he’s a werewolf barely maintaining control. Rowan is the next alpha, bound to a future already chosen for him. His girlfriend is perfect on paper. She’s from a powerful bloodline, unquestioned loyalty, and the one his father expects him to marry. It should be enough.
It isn’t.
Laney pulls at him in a way nothing ever has, stripping control down to instinct and want. He knows he should stay away. Instead, he watches her. Circles her. Fights urges that feel older than reason.
Laney doesn’t know what he’s hiding. She only knows that when he’s near, her body wakes up and she’s warm, restless, and painfully aware of how badly she wants him to touch her. As Laney leans into her stolen freedom and Rowan teeters on the edge of breaking every rule he’s sworn to follow, old laws begin to strain. Because Laney isn’t ordinary. And if Rowan’s world discovers why she matters, choosing her could cost him everything.
She wanted two years of fun.
He was never supposed to want her.
But some instincts don’t care about rules.
And some sparks are born to burn.
I opened the door, got out, walked around the front of the car, and stood there staring at the empty field before me.
Then I fell to my knees and screamed. It seemed as if something were clawing inside me, begging to be set free. That only frightened me even more.
“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, coming to my side and wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “You’re scaring me.”
Tears streamed down my face. It took me a minute before I could answer. “That makes two of us. I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know what I am. My own parents are lying to me.” I’d never been so afraid in all my life.
“What are we going to do?” Sarah asked.
I loved that there was a we in this. It made me feel less alone. “Right now, we’re not going to do anything. We’re still investigating because we don’t have enough information to know how to move forward.”
“Are you going to talk to your mom?”
“Eventually. But not yet. I don’t want either of my parents to know I suspect something.”
“Okay.” Sarah stood and pulled me to my feet.
And then I remembered what Adan had asked about whether my parents were my biological parents. “First, I need to see who I’m living with.”
“This is seriously like something out of a movie,” Sarah said. “Like this is insane.”
I happened to agree with her. It all seemed so surreal, that I was having trouble believing any of it myself. “I’m going to need you to be quiet about it.” We got back in the car. “Don’t talk to anyone about this. Promise me.”
“I promise I won’t say anything.”
I pulled back onto the street and started driving toward my house, wondering who and what I was.
Author Bio:
Jennifer Anne Davis is the bestselling, award-winning author of YA fantasy and NA paranormal romance. She graduated from the University of San Diego with a degree in English and a teaching credential. She lives in the San Diego area with her high school sweetheart-turned-husband and their rambunctious, spoiled GSP.
Her three adult children are in college and graduate school. When she’s not writing, Jennifer can be found reading, crocheting, or baking sourdough bread.
Jennifer has always loved writing stories where the stakes are high and the tension is even higher.
Awards:
Cage of Deceit: Winner 2018 Kindle Book Awards
The Key: Finalist 2014 USA Book Awards
The Voice: Finalist 2014 Next Generation Indie Book Awards
The Voice: Winner 2013 San Diego Book Awards
Blindsided by the sudden death of his mother, 21-year-old Will Lockhart can no longer afford the rent or bear the haunting memories of their shared Massachusetts apartment. While packing up his mother's belongings, he discovers his long-dead father's deed to a house in upstate New York. With nowhere else to go, he settles there, intent on making a fresh start. But odd things happen as soon as Will moves in. He's unnerved by evidence of fire damage in the cottage, and alarmed by the seizure his elderly next-door neighbor suffers upon meeting him. Most shocking of all are the rumors of a long-ago murder in his house. Now, trapped in a town full of strangers, unsure of whether local murmurings are true or simply small-town gossip, he's determined to discover what really happened all those years ago, and how he's connected to the chaos. The truth will set him free. Or get him killed.
Book Details:
Genre: Psychological Suspense, Domestic Suspense Published by: Creative James Media Publication Date: September 22, 2026 Number of Pages: 344 ISBN: 9781965648919 (ISBN10: 1965648916) Book Links:Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads
Author Bio:
Jennifer Sadera first worked in the publishing industry as a junior copywriter for NAL/Penguin. She has written and edited for newspapers and magazines as a freelancer and on the staffs of major women's publications, Woman's World and Redbook.
In this chilling romantic suspense, U.S. Marshals investigator Heather York stumbles into danger at a Maine lakeside lodge, with Jordan Kyndall’s protective instincts as her only hope.
A woman hunted by corruption.
Heather York thought her life was ordinary—until a sudden threat pulls her into a deadly game. In Shadow of Betrayal, she’s forced to question whether she’s a target—or collateral damage.
A man who won’t walk away.
Jordan Kyndall planned a weekend celebrating his college roommate’s wedding. Instead, he finds a grisly scene in the woods—a woman’s lifeless body—and a surge of protective instinct binds him to Heather in ways he never expected.
A danger that could destroy them both.
As threats multiply and secrets surface, Heather and Jordan must navigate corruption, desire, and deadly stakes—trusting each other may be the only way to survive.
THE DRIVE TO the dingy bar outside of the city had been rough when the directions led him down a series of dirt roads before reaching what managed to loosely be called civilization. The bell above the door chimed a dull sound, barely registering his presence. He shook his rain-soaked umbrella, drawing a few curious glances his way before the three men at the bar decided their cold beer and stale peanuts were more interesting than him.
The bartender, a man in his late fifties with a marine tattoo on a bicep, asked him if he wanted anything. Though kind, if the bartender had offered him a bottle of the Alps’ finest water, he wouldn’t accept—not in a place like this—but he was trying to blend in.
“Whatever is on tap,” he said, and found a table in a back corner.
Although he had no intention of staying longer than necessary, the location offered him anonymity. The front door, with its surprisingly clean window, opened and brought with it a strong wind and his associate. The new arrival scanned the room, nodded at the others, and crossed the dark bar.
“You’re late.”
“I’m here now. You have something for me, Hewitt?”
He’d made a mistake giving the man a name, even if it wouldn’t lead back to him. They’d agreed not to use names, not here, not ever. He removed a black, zippered deposit bag from the inside pocket of his rain slicker and slid it across the table.
The man across from him chuckled and unzipped the bag.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Hewitt asked, his whisper a low hiss. He quieted when the bartender set a beer in front of him.
His associate raised an eyebrow and continued to wear his smile. “You’ve seen too many movies.” He closed the bag and leaned forward. “Do you honestly think anyone here cares who you are or what you’re doing? At least you dressed for the occasion—kind of.”
Hewitt stared at the man across from him, confident that despite his off-balanced behavior at times, he’d get the job done. History had proven he was capable, if not entirely trustworthy, and willing to do anything—for a price.
“You’re forgetting something,” he said.
Hewitt hated this man. “It’s in the bag.”
Another chuckle. “In the bag, I like that.” He pulled the colored photograph from the deposit bag and studied the image. “How’d you find me?”
“Does it matter?”
“I like to know what I’m getting into.”
Hewitt studied him, unsure now of his idea but knowing he had to move forward. “All you need to know is I can make your other . . . inconvenience go away.”
“And what might that be?”
Hewitt pulled a folded sheet of paper from his inside breast pocket and slid it across the table.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“You know who I work for?” Hewitt asked.
“I checked it out.”
“Then you know I can do what I say,” Hewitt said, growing impatient. “Will it be a problem?”
“No, no problem.” Instead of returning the picture to the bag, he slipped it into the pocket of his dark, denim shirt. “You going to drink this?” he asked before he lifted Hewitt’s beer and drank deeply.
From Chapter One
JORDAN EASED THE rented SUV into the graveled parking lot of the lakeside lodge. Nestled in the thick pine forest surrounding Moosehead Lake, the Highlands Lodge reminded him of the fishing camp his family frequented in Alaska.
He stepped out and walked around to the back of the vehicle, breathing in the fresh northern air. Though nothing like his hometown of Stewart Crossing, which was tucked away on a remote Alaskan bay, Moose Creek, Maine, was a pleasant escape from the spring heat of North Carolina, where he operated the main branch of Eagle Wilderness Journeys.
The parking lot was empty, but he heard voices coming from the back of the lodge, laughter carrying through the trees and echoing over the water. Adam, his college roommate and the reason Jordan trekked up north, ambled across the gravel and pulled Jordan into a big hug. Considering Adam stood four inches shorter than Jordan and weighed thirty pounds less, it wasn’t easy.
“Dang, it’s good to see you.”
Jordan returned the amiable smile. “You look happy.”
“Wait till you meet her.” Adam opened the back of the SUV and lifted the duffel out before Jordan objected. “You’re going to love her. I mean, whoever thought I’d ever be monogamous.”
Jordan laughed, closed the back door, and followed Adam to the lodge. “If I recall, you didn’t know the meaning of the word throughout our senior year.”
“Well, yeah, but could you blame me?” Adam led him around the corner of the lodge and stopped. “Wait, there she is.”
Adam had described her perfectly. Girl-next-door pretty and fresh off the cheerleading squad, Grace was only a year younger than his friend. Her pale, blond curls bounced as she walked on long legs across the lawn. “She’s something all right. I wouldn’t have expected—”
It wasn’t often when life’s unexpected moments stunned Jordan into silence or immobilized him, but none stopped his breath quite like his first glimpse of the woman standing next to Adam’s fiancée.
“Who is she?”
“It’s Grace, man, who do you think . . . Ah.” Adam nudged Jordan’s ribs with his elbow and laughed. “That’s Heather, Grace’s maid of honor.”
Jordan didn’t want to use the word “dumbstruck,” but at the moment, he couldn’t formulate another. His sister would have called him “twitterpated” and normally he would put her in a headlock until she cried “mercy” and take it back, but it had been a long time since she’d had cause to tease him about a girl.
“Hey, buddy, close your mouth before you drool.”
Jordan wiped his mouth before he realized Adam was messing with him. “Don’t forget, I can still kick your golf-playing butt from here to next Tuesday.”
“Why don’t I introduce you instead, and then you can owe me one.”
***
Excerpt from Shadow of Betrayal by Blaire Morgan. Copyright 2026 by Blaire Morgan. Reproduced with permission from Blaire Morgan. All rights reserved.
Blaire Morgan, Author Bio:
Blaire Morgan is a pseudonymous American author blending danger, emotion, and high-stakes storytelling into gripping romantic suspense. She lives wherever the next adventure takes her—usually somewhere with a lot of trees, or a place that exists only in her imagination.
Setting - A tavern in Colonial Pennsylvania (1764)
Publisher : Wagonbridge Publishing
Publication date : September 15, 2025
Print length : 272 pages
PaperbackISBN-10 : 1953444202
ISBN-13 : 978-1953444202
DigitalISBN-13 : 978-1953444219
ASIN : B0FLDWVCJW
With Penelope Corbitt in the kitchen, the tavern will never be the same.
Penelope Corbitt can turn a lump of meat and a bit of flour into a mouth-watering pie or make a tasty meal of cabbage and vinegar. But all her skill can’t save her family in the spring of 1763, when she loses everything to pay off her missing husband’s debts. Walking a tightrope between the freedom of poverty and the confines of propriety, she must accept her stingy brother-in-law’s reluctant charity to keep her family fed and her children close. The miserable journey north from Philadelphia is interrupted when the coach crashes in the mud. Penelope and her children are stranded at a run-down tavern. Penelope doesn’t think things can get worse.
Then she finds a dead man.
Recipe:
Mincemeat Pies
Ask a dozen people about
mincemeat and you’ll like get one of two answers. Some will fondly remember how
their mother or grandmother made mincemeat pies. Most of the rest will say,
“Huh? What’s in that anyway? Does it really have meat in it?”
The answer is … complicated.
Modern mincemeat is a spicy mixture of mostly apples and raisins. But if you go
back a ways, mincemeat was indeed a pie made with chopped meat.
Some of the earliest recipes
for mincemeat I have found date from the 14th century. These heavy, elegant
pies were inspired by the Crusaders, bringing home ideas of new, exciting
spices like cinnamon and nutmeg from the Middle East. It was common in the
Middle East to serve meat sweetened with fruits and spices. It became
popular in England to recreate these exotic dishes, especially for elegant
feasts meant to impress the neighbors in the holiday season.
These medieval mincemeat pies
could be made from any type of meat, including mutton, veal, pork or venison.
Some recipes even call for fish in a mince pie to serve on fish days when the
church forbade eating meat. The mixture usually called for prunes,
currants, raisins, and/or dates.
Like meatloaf today, mincemeat over the years
has had many variations, in the spices used, the type of fruit, and the crust.
By the 18th century, crusts were flakier and apples and raisins were usually
included in the recipe. It wasn’t until the late 19th and early 20th century
that mincemeat lost the meat. As late as 1941, some mincemeat recipes still
cared for meat (usually beef).
The real change came in 1898 when dried or
canned mincemeat (such as Nonesuch) was developed. This mixture of apples,
raisins and spices was one of America’s first convenience foods. As with many
pre-packaged, prepared foods, people lost track of what exactly was in that jar
or box of mincemeat.
As popular tastes changed, pies were more
commonly relegated to the dessert course. Homemade pies have given way to more
store-bought desserts. Gradually, the taste for mincemeat has declined. Most
people I talk to are leery of a sweet meat and fruit mixture.
But old-fashioned mincemeat is definitely
worth trying. The recipe below is adapted from and 1833 recipe byMrs. Child inThe
American Frugal Housewife. Dedicated to those who are not ashamed of economy.
The modern version I developed makes 4-5 pies, but can be easily cut in half.
And if you still don’t want meat in your pie?
That’s okay. You can omit the meat and make a spicy, apple and raisin pie
–perfect for the Holiday season.
Modern Recipes: Mincemeat for 2 pies
3/4 c. shortening (or suet) 1 1/4lb beef roast (chuck roast is fine) 1 1/2lbs apples (about 4 or 5 medium apples) 1 lb. raisins ( about 2 1/2 cups) 1 ½ c. sugar ¼ c.
brandy 1 T. lemon juice 1T. cinnamon 2 t. cloves 1/2 T. nutmeg 1/4 t. pepper 2 c.apple cider
Freeze the shortening, and dice
while still frozen. Keep cold.
Cover beef with water, bring to
a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes or until the meat tests 170
degrees. (The amount of cooking time will vary with the thickness of the beef.
Let cool, then dice small. Be careful to remove all gristle but leave in any
hard fat (which is like suet.)
Peel, core and dice the apples.
Mix beef, apples, and shortening with the remaining ingredients.
Pie Crust: for 2 pies
4 c. flour (approx. ½ lb.) 1⅓ c. shortening (or butter) 1 t. salt 10 T. cold water
Mix the flour and salt. Rub or
cut the shortening into the flour until it resembles coarse meal. Add water.
Mix lightly. Gather the mixture into a ball and press solid. Cut into 4 pieces
(two for the bottom crusts two for the top crusts.). Roll each out to a circle.
The circles for the bottom crusts should be about an inch larger than your pie
plate. Carefully place one circle in each pan. Add the filling and cover with
the top crust. It helps to wet the edge of the bottom crust before placing the
top crust on the pie. Pince the edge all around to seal the pie.Cut vent slits.
Bake at 375 degrees for 45 to 55 minutes. Serve warm or cold.
About Terri Karsten
Living in the shadow of the Mississippi River bluffs, Terri Karsten has been a writer and educator for many years. She grew up in sunny San Jose, California, playing amid the cherry orchards that soon gave way to houses. In her search for education and adventure, she lived in Iowa and Wisconsin, Mexico and France, before settling into a hundred-year-old house in Winona, Minnesota. She spends most days in her tiny office, surrounded by books, papers, and good memories.
With more ideas than time, Terri writes a bit of everything, ranging from historical fiction novels to picture book folktales to dozens of short stories and articles in magazines, encyclopedias, and newspapers.
When she is not writing, Terri loves poring over old cookbooks and recreating dishes from long ago, especially medieval, Renaissance, and colonial foods. Always ready for the next adventure, she enjoys camping, hiking, and traveling. Her latest goal is to visit National Parks in every state. Only 13 states to go!
An eerie suspense novel, in which a grieving woman takes a job at an isolated mansion only to become wrapped up in the curse that seems to have befallen its eccentric owner.
Emily Grace has endured the worst loss imaginable. But can she survive a remote manor haunted by more than just memories . . .?
Drowning in grief, Emily Grace has lost everything: her home, her friends, her career. Only one lifeline remains—a job working for an eccentric millionaire. Along with his wife, he’s been building a mansion on a secluded island surrounded by a harsh and unforgiving sea. But when she disappears under mysterious circumstances, Emily Grace is hired to finish the project.
Locals believe the house is cursed, but their warnings go unheeded as Emily Grace works to rebuild her life. After what she’s been through, nothing can scare her—except perhaps the attention of a handsome man offering more than friendship. And yet, there’s something strange about this solitary fortress. Accidents. Mishaps. Ghostly whispers through the surrounding forest, footsteps when she’s completely alone . . .
Is there truly a curse or is the ethereal specter in the window an omen of something more sinister?
This spooky standalone from phenomenal crime author Elena Taylor will have readers sleeping with the light on for weeks! With vibes of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, fans of Riley Sager and thrillers with light horror elements will love The Haunting of Emily Grace!
NOW IN PAPERBACK!
Praise for The Haunting of Emily Grace:
"Taylor doesn’t just conjure suspense—she dissects it, peeling back the fragile layers of identity, memory, and trust until nothing feels safe. The Haunting of Emily Grace is deeply unsettling in all the best ways." ~ Carter Wilson, bestselling author of Tell Me What You Did
"Beautifully evocative and atmospheric, The Haunting of Emily Grace is a one-sitting read. I couldn't put it down." ~ Lisa Hall, bestselling author of suspense
"gut-tightening suspense" ~ Edward J Leahy, author of the Dan Brady and Kim Brady mysteries
The Haunting of Emily Grace Trailer:
Book Details:
Genre: Suspense with a touch of light paranormal/horror Published by: Severn House Publication Date: May 21, 2026 Number of Pages: 288 pages ISBN: 9781448318889 (ISBN10: 1448318882), Paperback Book Links:Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Severn House
Read an excerpt:
ONE
Over the Water
Grief is a scab that I can’t stop picking at, no matter how hard I try. It pokes at me now as I sit in my truck on the deserted ferry dock, surrounded by dense morning fog and waiting for the boat to take me across an expanse of dark water to a house rumored to be cursed.
My fingers trace a photograph taped to my dashboard. My hand trembles, likely from an empty stomach or sleeplessness, as both are constant companions. But I outline the beloved face, forever frozen, like a precious object in amber. Lost to me in the real world, calling to me from the next.
The ferry slides into the dock in front of me with a bump against the pilings. A lone figure moves across the empty deck, while an old, grizzled seaman stays inside the tiny wheelhouse. One captain and one first mate.
Tying the ferry off with ropes thicker than my arm, the mate’s actions are practiced and steady. He lowers a ramp and waves me forward. Ever so slowly, I roll across the water, fighting against holding my breath—the superstition I’ve clung to my entire life every time I cross a bridge. The thirty-minute sail to Salish Island, and tiny Monk’s Rock where my new job awaits, won’t allow me the indulgence, so I might as well continue to breathe despite my need to cling to anything, even a silly belief, to keep me safe.
After parking the truck as the mate directs, I wait as he shoves bright orange chock blocks around all four wheels, as if, without a barrier, my vehicle might drive itself into the sea.
I open my door a crack; our eyes meet. “Can I get out?”
“Of course.”
The first mate is rugged, with an air of confidence like he’d be good in a crisis. Smooth skin on his cheeks. Bright, inquisitive eyes. Broad shoulders visible under the bulky uniform of dark green waterproof overalls and a yellow slicker.
He holds out his hand as I step out. “Careful. Parts of the deck can be slippery when it’s this wet.”
Electricity flies between our fingers, and I pull away as if he poses a threat. I don’t want to feel desire. Intimacy is dangerous. But what does it mean that I’m looking at men again?
He gives me an odd look. “We’ll be underway in a few minutes.” He walks back to the ramp, where two men unload a battered white cargo van. The three of them quickly stack boxes to one side, lashing them in place. No doubt provisions for an island that’s home to five hundred hearty souls—and me. At least for the time it takes to complete the finish carpentry in one enormous house.
I’d once been a very good carpenter. Before my life exploded into hospitals and medical visits, overwhelming helplessness and all the endless paperwork connected to dying. Since then, I’ve done a poor job of putting myself back together. The rough pieces of grownup life refusing to fit a new pattern now that I’m alone.
My mentor Bill Thomlinson had started this project less than a week ago but fell and broke his leg in multiple places. After he came through the surgery, metal pins in place, he convinced the homeowner to take a chance on me.
“You need this,” he said to me over the phone, his voice surprisingly strong for someone coming out of anesthesia. “I’m done watching you flail. This job can save you. Don’t let me down.”
Now I stand on the deck of a private ferry while the engines roar out a steady vibration under my feet, and wonder if I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake.
Crossing to the rail, I pin my eyes where the horizon must lie out beyond the mist. Clouds above and waves below. Indistinguishable from each other because of the heavy air, thick like smoke. My stomach lurches at the thought of everything that swims underneath my feet and the unknown depth of the sea.
Breathe in . . . breathe out . . . focus on the future. Focus on the work.
All I know about the job ahead of me is that the original carpenter vanished, forcing the owner, Cameron Lang, to bring in someone else, but then Bill ended up with pins in his leg. Given that I haven’t slept in so long that I shouldn’t be trusted with power tools, I hope that whatever the curse is, it doesn’t come in threes.
When I feel like I’m losing my mind, it helps to ground myself with something physical, so I grip the hard, cold rail in my hands. No matter how much ending my life is a viable choice, some small part of me refuses to let death win again.
The fog brightens, and we cross a physical line in space, plunging into a blue so pure it hurts my eyes. I gasp and grip even tighter as the sky separates from the water, which now spreads out below me in an endless black void.
“Not quite got your sea legs?” The first mate watches me with barely disguised curiosity.
Salt spray traces tears down my cheeks. I must look like I’m crying. “I didn’t expect to come out of the fog so abruptly.”
“It does that sometimes. Now you see it, now you don’t. No matter how often we sail through a bank, it always feels like magic.”
“I can imagine.”
He lingers nearby. Maybe there’s little to do once the ferry is underway. Although small talk is beyond my ability, part of me longs to hear his voice again, even if I say things that sound insane.
The temperature drops as we head further out to sea.
We’re soon dodging between uninhabited land masses. “Some of these islands are so low they disappear in high tide.” He gestures to the slopes of land. Rocky outcroppings just under the surface. Dangerous, like unexploded mines in the sand.
Panic rises. The water below us taunts me—my troubles will be over if I simply fall into a watery grave. The voice becomes louder and more insistent that I should do something I can’t take back. To keep my mind off the words in my head, my eyes search for the defiant piece of US rock thrusting out of Canadian waters. If I can make it back to dry land, I can get through another day.
“That’s what you’re looking for.” The first mate’s breath tickles my ear as he comes closer, speaking over the hum of the engines, the slap of water on the hull, and the cry of seagulls. My gaze follows his arm to the far-off outline of Salish Island, where Monk’s Rock perches off the northern-most end, tethered to each other by the narrowest of bridges.
“Take this.” He presses a business card into my hand. “Just in case.” Under his name is a single word, handyman, and a phone number.
“Adrian Han?” I look up, his eyes capturing mine. “I thought you were the first mate.”
“I’m a lot of things.” His words are casual, but something reflects in his expression, an emotion I can’t put my finger on.
“You might realize at some point there’s a project you need help with. Nothing against your skills. Everyone needs another set of hands once in a while.”
“I have a helper.”
“Chuck, yeah. I’ve worked with him before.” His tone is carefully neutral.
My new boss made the arrangements for Chuck to help me with anything that requires two people. Am I going to regret his choice?
“How do you know why I’m here?”
Adrian’s carefree expression returns. “Emily Grace Turner. Carpenter. Here to finish the End of the World.”
It’s a jolt that he knows anything about me when I’ve worked so hard to become invisible. He reads me again, and his tone turns reassuring. “It’s a small town—people talk.” He gestures toward the wood rack that fits over my camper shell and the bumper sticker: Proud Member of the Carpenter’s Union. “Plus, your name was on your ferry registration.”
I chuckle for thinking his words are sinister until a darker emotion, one that looks like fear, crosses his face. “That house—” His lips purse as if he holds something back. “Just call if you need help. Anytime.”
The island takes clearer shape, and Adrian returns to the wheelhouse, his absence palpable, as if a physical hole remains in the air after he’s gone.
He’s taken his fear with him, except for the small part he’s left behind with me.
***
Excerpt from The Haunting of Emily Grace by Elena Taylor. Copyright 2025 by Elena Taylor. Reproduced with permission from Elena Taylor. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Elena Taylor spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to novels. Her first series, the Eddie Shoes Mysteries, written under Elena Hartwell, introduced a quirky mother/daughter crime fighting duo.
With the Sheriff Bet Rivers Mysteries, Elena returned to her dramatic roots to bring readers more serious and atmospheric novels. Located in her beloved Washington State, Elena uses her connection to the environment to produce tense and suspenseful investigations for a lone sheriff in an isolated community. The third in the series, Kill to Keep, launches summer 2026.
The Haunting of Emily Grace is Elena’s first standalone suspense novel.
Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she lives on south of Spokane, Washington, with her equines, dogs, cats, and hubby.
WOW! I have been reading books like this since I was 8 years old. I am a true horror fan at heart. This book was creepy. I could not read it in the dark. It is a good thing to be that surprised. I am only upset that I do not own every book by this author. I immediately felt bad for Emily because of her loss. Then with all the drama from her boss, I felt even worse. She is a character to root for! The author described the drive up to the house is such a way, that I felt like I was in the car with her. There was such eerie imagery. This is only the beginning. Next, I got into the cast of characters and how they interacted with each other. There is the shady widow, Cameron. Did he kill his wife? Which wife, he has lost two. Adrian, the jealous guy friend? Did he see Katrina last? Chloe, the long lost daughter, that is afraid of heights but has no problem looking out the window? There is also a psychic, towns folk, and other quirky characters. The mystery of who killed Katrina really tied the chapters together and kept me guessing. The chapters are short and that makes for a fast read, just not in the dark! I also was shocked by the end and the twists and turns. I did not see the ending coming. I would love to see this as a movie in a theater. I am giving this book a 5/5. I was given a copy to review, all opinions are my own. This is a must read!
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