April's Ghosts: Haunted Halls: Rosebud Academy, #0

By Juliet Vane

Some jobs are just a little too scary…

 

Home from college and heartbroken, nineteen-year-old April Oliphant is roped into cleaning the old Rosebud Academy for Girls with her two best friends, James and Logan. While she struggles to contain her growing attraction to James, she also must manage a spooky basement, haunted hallways, and a mirror that seems to want something from her. She didn't think she could trust her instincts after her ex's betrayal, but it's her instincts she must trust now, in order to save her life…and her heart.

 

April's Ghosts is a prequel to the Rosebud Academy trilogy. Although it takes place before the events of the trilogy, it can be read alone and at any point in the series. If you love ghosts, new love, and haunted halls, one-click this sweet, spooky romance today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Juliet Vane
• Release date: Dec 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386621492

Book preview

April’s Ghosts

A Rosebud Academy Prequel

Juliet Vane

Contents

1. Heartbreak and Spring Storms

2. The Job and the Basement

3. Sweet Dreams and Cowbells

4. Echoes and Footsteps

5. Feelings and Ghost Dreams

6. Old Clothes and High School Romances

7. Truths and Reflections

8. The Chill and the Race

9. Doors and Windows

10. Wounds and Kisses

11. Spirits and Kisses

12. A Goal and an Opponent

Epilogue

Chapter One of June’s Blood

Also by Juliet Vane

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Copyright © 2017 Juliet Vane. All Rights Reserved.

Cover Design by Keira Blackwood.

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Heartbreak and Spring Storms

My car, Grizabella, was a freaking mess. She looked exactly like the old glamour cat from the musical Cats —torn, dirty, old, and knocking on death’s door. But she was a Honda Civic and other than the trash littering the passenger’s seat, I’d taken good care of her. She had plenty of years left, and on the first morning of spring break, I’d decided to help her look the part.

My parents’ driveway was on a hill, angling up toward the road. I went out through the garage, opening the wide door to the warm Colorado morning. Our little road was shady, with large pine trees hugging it on either side, separating us from the rest of the town of Switchback.

I dug the shop vac from the far reaches of my parents’ garage. A cobweb clung to my bare arm below my t-shirt sleeve, and I brushed it away, trying not to shriek. I was fine with beetles, roly polies, butterflies, and all kinds of insects. Even cockroaches didn’t scare me that bad. But spiders? Evil buttholes, every last one of them. Something about those two extra legs, or the classification of arachnid, did me in every time. And no matter how often my ex-boyfriend had told me, They’re more afraid of you than you are of them, I remained convinced that every spider I happened across had the willful intent to do me harm.

Once I had the shop vac situated next to Grizabella, I realized that I couldn’t actually vacuum anything because there was too much garbage in the way. This was what came of practically living out of my car for the past eight weeks. I’d made the stupid, stupid, stupid decision to move off campus with my boyfriend, Ian. I’d told my parents during winter break, and my dad had been absolutely certain it wouldn’t last and I’d end up on my butt in the street by spring break.

Dad had been wrong—I was out on my butt by Groundhog Day.

I leaned into Grizabella, grabbing as many food wrappers and crumpled papers as I could find.

Now that it was spring break, I had to pretend everything was fine and no, of course I wasn’t living out of Grizabella and hoping for couch space in friends’ apartments each night. I couldn’t afford anything else because I was still paying my share of rent for the place I’d gotten with Ian, while he brought home a different girl whenever the whim struck him.

April?

The low voice startled me, and I dropped a nasty fast-food bag on the ground. It rolled a couple of feet and stopped at the toes of a nice pair of Nikes. My gaze went up from the Nikes, traveling over a guy’s hairy, well-defined legs, a pair of basketball shorts, and abs. I stopped at the abs. These were the kind of abs that went on romance novel covers.

You okay? the owner of the abs asked.

I forced my gaze up the rest of the way, making a brief stop at the pecs and the light dusting of hair that covered them, and to the concerned face of my friend James.

James! I said, and felt my mouth twist in a genuine smile, probably the first real smile I’d worn since Groundhog Day.

Normally I would have launched myself at him and given him a hug, but my brain was still stuck on abs and pecs and why the hell was he outside without a shirt on? So instead, my hand went to the blue and green friendship bracelet that I wore on my left wrist. James had made it for me for Christmas in eleventh grade.

You still have that? he asked, pointing to it.

Oh, yeah. Well, you tied it on pretty strong.

His blue eyes danced as he said, Didn’t want you to forget about me.

Never, I said, my voice serious. So, how are you?

I’m good, just going for a run. I’m home for a while. You?

An involuntary smile spread across my face. Being around James had this effect on me. Same, on spring break like you. Obviously, I didn’t have anything better to do. No wild college trips to Cancun.

Living the dream, he said, offering me a fist bump.

I took it, and he took the opportunity to grab me in a half hug.

Sorry I’m all sweaty, he said, but dang, it’s good to see you, April. You look great.

Thanks. Inwardly, I congratulated myself on at least keeping to my daily gym schedule. It helped because at the gym I could shower without having to inconvenience my friends.

How’s the semester going? I asked. Do you still like Michigan?

Yeah, but Michigan’s a lonely place. I’ve missed you. He gave me one of those heart-stopping grins that he always used to send my way