Haunt Me

By Heather Long

Haunt Me by Heather Long

Recently divorced author MacKenzie Dillon has lost her writing mojo. When she inherits her great aunt's haunted house in Virginia, she is determined to make a new start. The creepy old house provides inspiration but at what cost?

Successful architect and paranormal skeptic Justin Kent returns to Penny Hollow to fulfill his father's dying wish of revitalizing their small town. To do that, he needs the allegedly haunted estate at Summerfield. Mac, the new owner, may be gorgeous and spunky, but she refuses to sell.

These two have a dangerous history that spans the ages, but will they discover the truth in time to save their lives?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jan 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781622664467

Heather Long

Heather Long is a USA TODAY bestselling author who likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, and Marines. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romances as hot as her native Texas summertime.

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Haunt-Me-500.jpg

Haunt Me

Heather Long

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Heather Long. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Edited by Rochelle French, Kate Fall

Cover design by Curtis Svehlak

Ebook 978-1-62266-459-7

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition January 2014

Table of Contents

Haunt Me

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Covet more...

To Mini. You saved my sanity while I worked on this book, literally and figuratively.

Chapter One

Justin Kent’s tombstone would read Dead from Terminal Boredom if the meeting of Penny Hollow’s first families didn’t wrap up soon. The Founder’s Council meetings used to be once per quarter and involved a lot of gin—both the drink and the card game—but not anymore. For the last year, ever since the death of Justin’s father had forced him back to town, the council had met over a dozen times, and always to cover the same ground.

How to save Penny Hollow.

No one wanted to just let the sleepy little Virginia town die. During the last year, the entire council had devised their cockamamie scheme to become known as the most haunted town in Virginia. And the council had determined that the Summerfield estate would be the capstone, which was the focus of their current discussion.

Old Katherine Summerfield’s place harkened back to shadowy, dark era of Penny Hollow’s past. It was perfect—from the facade to the columned porch to the elegance of the imposing wall and wrought iron gates. After Justin had moved in next door to Katherine a year ago, he’d cultivated a friendship with the elderly woman, the town fixture with a spine of steel. He’d check on her after every bad weather event, or if he hadn’t spotted the local senior van picking her up for a doctor’s appointment in a while. It was Katherine who’d promised to leave instructions for the deed to be sold to Justin upon her passing.

His request to buy the property had been due to his father’s will, which stipulated the Kent children reinvigorate the dying town or forfeit their inheritance to the town entirely. Not only would Summerfield satisfy the need for a house with a spooky history to cap off Penny Hollow’s haunted tour, it would also conclude the last of the requirements he needed in order to fulfill to honor his father’s willed requests. He’d get to fix up Summerfield, the town would have their pet project on the fast track, his siblings would get their inheritance, and he’d be on his way back to a life outside his small hometown.

Win-win, all the way around.

Although truthfully, his interest in the historic place went a lot deeper. He’d liked the house—lusted for it, really—for most of his life. The shivery sensation he’d experienced the first time he passed through the gates couldn’t be explained.

Next to him, his friend and lawyer—and member of the council—Clinton Pope held up his phone, interrupting the meeting. Bad news, folks, he announced to the group. I just got a text. Katherine Summerfield passed away a couple of hours ago.

Dammit. Justin swore internally and fought to keep his struggle off his face. He’d liked the grumpy old lady—her spunk, her fire, her odd sense of humor. And he’d liked what her property meant for his father’s plan.

Gasps and murmurs of sorrow burst around the room, and the brief lull of shock quickly gave way to demands as the town families argued over what to do next. He overheard an argument breaking out in the corner between two of Penny Hollow’s founding families descendants. The words duke, burial, and the lost bride, were thrown out like exploding grenades. He hated that story—a bunch of pseudo-tragic romantic myths cobbled together about a stolen bride and her true love. True love didn’t exist, and it certainly didn’t in a story where the couple were torn apart.

Clint lightly punched his shoulder. Look at it this way; if we get Summerfield and you rehab it, you’re done and out of here, just the way you want.

When, Justin said. "When we get Summerfield." He couldn’t allow it to be an if. Guilt shafted through him. He shouldn’t feel grateful that old lady Summerfield had passed on, even if it meant he got what he wanted.

Although, he realized, he had no guarantee Katherine had actually left him the estate. All the town’s plans could blow up in their faces if he didn’t get the deed.

…

Two days later, Justin’s anger solved his guilt problem. He’d had to read the e-mail three times before picking up his cell and calling Clint. Who the hell is MacKenzie Dillon?

As far as I can tell, she’s Katherine Summerfield’s great-niece. Clint went straight to the facts. She wasn’t born in Penny Hollow, and I’m not entirely certain she’s ever stepped foot in the town.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Justin stared across the room. He’d drawn up designs over the weekend based on historical records and styles, and the blueprints and designs now decorated the board on the far wall of his office. He’d been sketching an idea for a gazebo for Summerfield—an image that kept recurring in his mind. Could there have once been such a structure on the property? If Clint couldn’t figure out who held the deed, he may never know.

Maybe she won’t be interested in our little town…

That’s possible. Google says she’s an author, Clint continued. Appears she wrote a lot of chick books. And according to her fan page, she just came off an ugly divorce.

The last thing they needed was a stranger holding the deed to the key of the town’s plans. The council would go ballistic if they couldn’t secure the historic property. Justin glanced back down at the sketching. Crumpling the paper into a tight ball, he sighed.

Justin? Clint’s raised voice jerked him out of his thoughts. What do you want me to do?

Kill me?

Okay, but that means jail time and I think my sister would be a little put out if I missed her wedding. What else do you want me to do?

A laugh burst from him, then he considered the question. Make a preemptive offer. If she turns down the first one, double it.

Are you insane?

Quite possibly. I mean, what’s the worst thing that can happen? Katherine Summerfield’s niece had to say yes. He was too close to getting his life back. He shot the crumpled sketching of the gazebo at trashcan, but could only stare as it bounced off the rim.

Apparently, this wasn’t his lucky day.

…

In the kitchen of her great-aunt’s home she’d inherited a week before, MacKenzie Dillon leaned against the counter and stared at a chocolate bar. She knew she’d left it on the counter by the door. But now it sat next to the sink. Nudging it back to where it belonged, she blinked hard as it began the slow slide back. Either the house was tilted or her grandmother’s ghost stories were more real than she remembered. Either way, she wanted that darned chocolate to stop playing games with her.

She grabbed the bar, unwrapped it, then broke off two full rectangles, popped them in her mouth, and sighed as the chocolate melted on her tongue. Heaven, after living on a diet of freeze-dried noodles and tap water for weeks, courtesy of her ex-douche. Although if I had actually paid attention to the finances instead of trusting him, I would’ve known what he was up to.

Closing her eyes, she did a mental count to ten, twice. Just thinking about her ex caused her an instant headache, but her life would be okay. After dealing with a silent muse for months, she’d been overwhelmed with the desire to start writing the minute she’d stepped foot on Summerfield. She could do this—write a great book and kick-start the next chapter of her own life.

Getting a divorce? Four thousand dollars. Moving to Virginia? A couple hundred dollars. Hiding away in a haunted house and finishing a book? Priceless.

Her cell phone rang in her back pocket. She pulled it out, only to glare at Kevin’s number and face that appeared on the caller ID, then declined the call from her ex-husband. Her life now was all about the future. Bigger and better things.

And right now, the only obstacle to getting her better and brighter future was unpacking the U-Haul.

Ready to get back to work, she headed out the open door. In the U-Haul, she grabbed a box, only to have the lid pop open. She stared at the number of unfamiliar books inside. They were old, some plain and well-worn. She flipped open the top book and read the first page. A diary?

Now she remembered. She’d received the box along with the notice from an attorney that she’d inherited Summerfield. As tempting as it was to start reading the books now, she made herself put the diary back and closed the lid. She could read them later, she promised herself. After she’d unpacked, settled in, and started in on her new book.

It’s all going to work out, she told the box as she folded the lid shut. Everything happens for a reason.

Does it? A purely masculine voice echoed behind her.

MacKenzie screamed and jumped. The box fell, hitting her foot, and she had to steady herself with a hand on the wall of the trailer. She stared at the blond Adonis blocking her exit. Six feet of pure, masculine sex appeal stood before her, wearing well-worn jeans and a plaid button-down and attractive enough to eat. Broad-shouldered and thick-chested, this was a man who worked hard rather than worked out.

Down, girl.

He grimaced and held up both hands. Sorry. I thought you heard me pull up.

Clearly not. No way she would have missed him if she had. May I help you?

Justin Kent. He took a step forward and picked up the box. Your neighbor.

She knew that name. Had heard from his lawyer several times since she’d inherited Summerfield. So this is the guy who wants to buy my house… He wasn’t exactly a welcome sight. She reached out and took custody of her box. MacKenzie Dillon. Not selling.

At first she didn’t think he would let it go, but then he relented and turned sideways to let her exit the U-Haul. She made it two steps when she realized he’d grabbed another box and was following her.

Seriously, Mr. Kent. Not interested in your offer. Told your attorney three times, in fact. I think I was pretty clear. Although, two people could definitely off-load the truck faster—and he was so not hard on the eyes. But she didn’t want to accept help from someone who wanted something from her. She’d had enough of that.

She took a closer look. He’d seemed so solid, dwarfing the interior of the little trailer, but outside of it? Tanned skin crowned by wheat-blond hair and those blue, blue eyes were the icing on top of a very attractive beefcake package. Not interested, she reminded herself. Moving to Summerfield was supposed to be a new beginning for her. Lusting after her neighbor—who, in turn, was lusting after her property—was the last thing she needed. Hell, she hadn’t even fully moved in and already a ghost was making its presence known.

Haunted house for the win.

Helping you unload is about being neighborly, he said. I don’t mind, especially since it seems like you’re on your own. Besides, it’s a guy thing.

Alone doesn’t mean helpless. Defensiveness edged her tone, but she didn’t care. Sure, it would be nice to have help, but she couldn’t afford any more bites taken out of her pride. I’m fine. As you can see, I’m almost done.

Uh-huh. Well, just point me where you want this to go and I’ll help you finish.

Nothing personal, but I just met you, and I would really rather you didn’t come in my house. She slid the box she carried onto the counter and turned to catch the one he had, effectively blocking him from entering at the same time. The shirt did little to hide the flex of his muscles and she tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

Surprise filtered through his expression, and his mouth tightened. My apologies, Ms. Dillon. I was just trying to be neighborly.

"Really? Were you just being neighborly when you doubled your offer to buy my house? Or was it more neighborly to let me know about all your plans and how I was getting in the way of what my great-aunt really wanted for the town?" Guilt stabbed her at the less than hospitable reaction, but dammit, she held her ground.

All right, then.

The nonanswer didn’t do much for her, but the corners of his eyes crinkled. Her heart did a little back flip at his easy smile, but she reminded herself no one looked that good and turned out to be. Her ex had been a damned attractive man, too.

Once burned, lesson learned.

But he didn’t leave. He pivoted and walked back into the trailer, retrieved another box, and returned to the door before she could slam it shut. He held the box out, being obvious about not crossing over the threshold. The corners of his mouth curved upward when she grabbed it from him. Then he turned and left her to gape at him as he strode back to the trailer. His jeans stretched taut over his rear, and she snapped her mouth shut before she started drooling.

She gave up. He could help if he wanted to.

Twenty more minutes later, between them they’d off-loaded all but the furniture. A fort of cardboard, stacked two-deep in front of the kitchen cupboards, surrounded the two of them. Sweat soaked her shirt and her throat had gone dry. She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge—one for her and one for her irritating yet hunky neighbor.

Water? She held out her peace offering.

Justin accepted it with a smile. Thank you. He twisted the cap off and took a long drink. Sweat darkened his gray T-shirt, which clung to the damp skin beneath. That bed frame in the U-Haul is pretty heavy. He cast a sidelong glance at her.

I’m a lot stronger than I look. I can handle it.

Or I could help you. He pointed out the obvious, all reasonable-like.

Amusement bubbled up, surprising her, and she wrinkled her nose. She shouldn’t laugh, because it might encourage him to stay. You don’t seem to take no for an answer.

I didn’t step a foot inside your house, per your request. He gestured at her with the water bottle. But it’s hot out here. And you’re on your own…

Again, he sounded perfectly reasonable, but that didn’t change the fact she didn’t know him, and if she were honest with herself, she didn’t want to know him. This move was about finding who she was without a man in her life, without all the shadows, doubts, and insecurities that came from her past. Thank God for Aunt Katherine and the out-of-nowhere inheritance.

I’m sorry. You’re trying to be nice…

But? He raised his eyebrows, not bothering to disguise his amusement at her predicament.

But I’m not comfortable asking anyone for help—especially the person who wanted to buy my house.

Instead of answering, he tipped the bottle of water up and drained it. After recapping it, he handed her the bottle. Then he stripped off his shirt.

All the moisture fled her mouth at the ripple of muscle. He tossed his shirt on the counter, headed back to the U-Haul, where he lifted the heavy footboard with a flex of those same muscles.

You… she sputtered.

No worries. He exhaled the words on a hard breath. You didn’t ask for help. He carried it right on inside, leaving her no choice but to follow.

It took Justin less than ten minutes to unload what few pieces of furniture she’d brought with her. When the U-Haul was completely empty, he dusted his hands on his jeans and strode outside. On the porch, he paused and turned back to face her. By the way, welcome to Penny Hollow, he said. And I’m right across the street if you need anything.

Right across the street must mean the positively gorgeous Southern plantation house up the half-mile-long gravel driveway, across the two-lane road, and down a bit. If that was his house, he hadn’t been exaggerating about being her neighbor.

Puffing a loose strand of hair away from her damp forehead on an exhale, she nodded to him. Thank you for your help. When he grinned slowly, her stomach did a little flip.

You’re welcome. Not that you asked for any help. With a wink, he was off. Electricity sizzled over her. Damn if he doesn’t look as good walking away as he did arriving.

…

A few hours later, after returning the U-Haul and splurging on fast food for dinner, Mac headed home, pushing thoughts of her sexy new neighbor out of her mind. After parking her ten-year-old Ford Explorer under the carport, she glanced around the little plot of land.

Mine.

Sitting squarely atop a hill in the middle of twenty acres, behind a stone wall and overgrown hedges, was the single-story saltbox house with an added-on wraparound porch and a swing. Mac swung her gaze around the property, taking in the overgrown vegetation. She’d have to either grow some muscles and learn how to landscape or write another bestseller and hire someone.

The stagnant heat of the day had given way to a cooler evening. The buzz of cicadas filled the air, punctured by the occasional hooting of an owl.

Reviews for Haunt Me

[tldegray-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

2.5/5 stars. A predict romantic novel about ghosts, past lives, and secrets.

TRIGGER WARNING: SPOUSAL ABUSE.

(Provided by publisher)

[thehistorychic · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Read for Review (NetGalley)Overall Rating: 4.25Story Rating: 4.00Character Rating: 4.50First Thought when Finished: Haunt Me was a little bit of everything that I enjoy in a(paranormalish)contemporary read: mystery, romance, humor, small town, ghosts, and great characters.Note: I think even if you aren't a fan of paranormal reads that you will like Haunt Me because it reads like a contemporary romance. Yes the supernatural does play a part but the overall elements remind me of the things I want when I pick up a good contemporary read.Story Thoughts: I am going to admit I had no idea what to expect when I picked Haunt Me up. I couldn't tell if it was paranormal, contemporary, or something else entirely. Turns out it was a little bit of all 3! Haunt Me is one of those stories that you start to guess where it is going and then something happens to make you think maybe not. The story is well plotted, beautifully written, and laid down with a nice foundation of good character interaction that keeps you glued to the pages. This is one of those stories that I don't want to give anything away so I will be vague. I will say this: How come there are no hunky Mr Fix It's living next door to me!Character Thoughts: Characters are what made Haunt Me shine! MacKenzie is one of those leading gals that I think all of us can identify with in one way or another. She is a bit of a workaholic, at loose ends in her personal life, and in the midst of a huge change when we meet her. Through the story she grows, struggles, and sometimes does things that make you shake your head. Yet, through it all you want too root for her. Justin is hot! Oh I could just stop there but he is also stubborn, loyal, and super handy. He isn't a saint and yes I wanted to slap him for not being more upfront with MacKenzie. Men! Sometimes they are just that way. Together they are a great couple!Final Thoughts: I really liked Haunt Me and hope there are more in this series. Justin has some family I would love to read about!

[evampire-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is an intriguing stand alone paranormal story full of suspense and ghosts.Author MacKenzie Dillion has recently divorced and has lost her writing mojo, so when she inherits her great aunt’s haunted house in Virginia, she’s determined to make a new start. Successful architect Justin Kent had plans to use the Summerfield house for revitalizing the town of Penny Hollow, only Mac refuses to sell and he finds himself quite taken with the spunky but vulnerable MacKenzie. He’s a paranormal skeptic, but he certainly notices when something strange starts happening to Mac and they realize that they have a dangerous history that spans the ages, one that could very cost them their lives.This steady paced plot has lots of tension building suspense that keeps the reader on their toes. The author grabs the attention with vivid images and strong bewitching characters that are easily related to. The reader shivers in delicious anticipation as the author brings the ghosts to life with great details that capture the imagination.The attraction between MacKenzie and Justin can be felt from every page, but the relationship is fraught with emotional turmoil and ghostly interference. The reader can empathize with Mac and understand her emotions regarding relationships, while also understanding Justin’s side of things. Both characters grab a hold of the reader and keep them reading until the very end.The author has created a very charming and intriguing little town in Virginia and along with the inhabitants of Penny Hollow inspires the imagination and leaves the reader wanting to know more. I really enjoyed this spine tingling and thrilling ghostly tale and while I was unable to determine if Heather Long intends to write more stories in the haunted town of Penny Hollow, I certainly hope so. I would love to know how the town achieves it goals, but also I was quite taken with the rest of the Kent family and would like to know their stories as well.