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Spirit Board: The Marafaes, #1
Spirit Board: The Marafaes, #1
Spirit Board: The Marafaes, #1
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Spirit Board: The Marafaes, #1

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Preschool teacher Sara Jane Marafae is a descendant of Oberon the fairy king and a witch. As a result of her bloodline, Sara can see and communicate with spirits. In order to capture the head of a drug ring, hunky undercover agent Luke McGraw is sent to a party at Sara’s house. Trouble erupts when Sara’s ex-roommate gets her hands on the Marafae’s heirloom Spirit Board.

A Short Paranormal Romance.
“Short and sweet, fun plot, intriguing and sexy without being over the top. This is a short story with a fully developed storyline and characters you can root for. I look forward to reading more from this author.” (A Five Star review from an Amazon Reader.)
 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 5, 2013
ISBN9781501465505
Spirit Board: The Marafaes, #1

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    Spirit Board - Liberty Blake

    Spirit Board

    copyright © 2012 Liberty Blake

    Cover Art: http://stanzalonedesign.weebly.com

    All Rights Reserved

    Please Note:

    License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to a legitimate venue and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    ––––––––

    All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the express permission of the author.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    This is dedicated to Amanda Torrey. You brought sunshine into my life with your very first smile. You are one of the hardest working people I know, and you still remain optimistic. It’s not easy having two writers living under the same roof and going to the same meetings and conferences, but you make it work. I am so proud of you and your new book. Keep up the good work. Always remember, you are my favorite red headed daughter. I love you.

    Spirit Board

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    Make them leave, Witch Woman. A cold hand touched Sara Jane Marafae’s leg as she turned the corner onto her street. A quick glance at the ancient Pemigewasset battle field showed her the shades of native warriors moving through the trees. Abby, the specter floating in the passenger seat of Sara’s cute little Fit, passed her spectral hand through her disheveled blonde locks; her blood streaked face glowed with the power infused into her spirit on this night.

    Abby, you know they come twice every year to avenge their brother. They can’t rest until the Blackstone family has made amends. Sara glanced at the other corner of the road which held the town’s old cemetery. Angry spirits floated in the curls of clammy fog which always filled the grave yard. Some townies had tried to blame Sara Jane for the fog, claiming she brought in dry ice or a fog machine, but the older locals knew the fog preceded Sara’s arrival in the neighborhood, which is why Sara was able to buy her house and land so cheap. It was too eerie for anyone else to appreciate.

    The savages must go, too, Witch Woman, but I mean all those who gather beyond, in your dwelling. They stir the temper of those who can find no rest. Abby paused to take a breath she did not need. There will be bloodshed tonight.

    The tingle of electricity raised the hairs on Sara’s arms and the back of her neck as the dramatic Abigail Blackstone dissolved into the night.

    Abby’s prediction worried her, but Sara didn’t have time to track down the talkative ghost. It was Samhain and she had to grab her robes and get to the upper river to meet her family at the bend where the white water crested. The confluence of wind, water, fire, and the spirits of the night were the perfect way to welcome the New Year, but not if she didn’t get there on time. One parent had been over an hour late picking his child up from her after-school care center, and then he had the nerve to give her attitude because the kid was crying.

    She wove around a couple of cars parked on both sides of the dirt road as she pulled into her driveway. One of her neighbors must be having a party. Or had Abby meant there was going to be a party in the woods around her house? Sara really hoped the party was in someone’s house. She didn’t want a bunch of drunks in her woods on Halloween. They’d probably start a forest fire and she didn’t want to lose her lovely trees, especially the oaks.

    After pulling the car into her driveway, Sara stood in the middle of her yard with arms spread. Hestia, Goddess of hearth and fire, protect the woodlands and my home from a dangerous pyre. Under the light of the Moon I beseech thee to protect all that I see. So mote it be. After a bow to each quadrant of her yard she headed for the door.

    He shin collided with a solid animal body. Sara looked down with a gasp. Clarabelle, what are you doing out here? I thought you were sleeping on my bed when I left this morning. She bent down to pick up the white cat whose glare sent a lightning bolt of guilt through Sara’s body.

    When she was closer to her door a red glow fused with the fog. Clammy tendrils of fog moved and covered the red glow. Sara’s chest squeezed with panic, as she wondered what had caused the glimmer. When she reached the steps a large plastic spider flashed his golf-ball sized red eyes at her. In spite of her heritage, Sara hated spiders. They gave her the creeps. A large cobweb plastered on her beautiful oak door made Sara gasp. The cotton monstrosity hadn’t been there when she’d left for work that morning.

    Must be the Ames kids getting their tricks in early, she stanchly told Clarabelle.

    The blood froze in her veins when she pulled the cotton gauze away and saw the sign underneath it. A wart faced crone bent over a

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