Blood Moon Rising (A Ravynne Sisters Paranormal Thriller Book 11)

By Merabeth James

Another contest. Another lucky win or does Fate have other plans for the Ravynne sisters? Is she pulling their plug or pulling their strings in a macabre dance of death? Tick Tock. The blood moon is rising and neither sister is aware that their time may be running out as they head to Lighthouse Pointe Resort in sunny California for Meg’s all expense paid vacation. It is to be the grand re-opening of the 1920s sprawling Art Deco resort steeped in darkness and so very haunted. It was there five women were brutally murdered back in the 30s and the place shut down for more than 80 years. Determined to enjoy herself despite what she’s learned about its history, Meg soon becomes aware that the dead still linger in the abandoned lighthouse, and that the dark, aloof and mysterious guests are far more than what they seem.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Merabeth James
• Release date: Aug 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005425470

Merabeth James

There are six things important to me...well, most important to me: To love unconditionally, to always keep a sense of 'wonder', to always be kind, to find joy in simple things, to never take myself too seriously, and to make sure I don't leave this earth with a list of "if only I hads".I've taken many 'leaps of faith' in my time and, so far, have landed on my feet or, in one case, on a dilapitated houseboat with my dog, and a lot of enthusiasm. I named her 'Sanctuary Annie' and hoped for the best. I knew nothing about boats, couldn't swim and wondered how long she would stay afloat. In the middle of the night, when my dog jumped up to join me on the antique Victorian bed I had moved on board, I would check to see if he was wet, knowing, if so, we were both in big trouble. But Sanctuary Annie hung in there, even surviving a hurricane, when others around her were not so fortunate.Living in the small marina, with the sea as my back yard, I found a profound sense of peace..and the love of my life....my Jim, captain of 'Wings', a beautiful racing sloop that flies across the water, when the wind fills her sails.I often think how much I would have missed out on, if I hadn't taken that leap of faith and followed my heart. Life is meant to be lived and I intend to keep on doing just that.

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This book is entirely a work of fiction. All characters are entirely fictitious and do not represent any persons living or dead. Product, business, location names used remain the property of any all trademark holders and do not represent an endorsement or association of any kind, either expressed or implied.

(copyright 2015 elizabeth repka all rights reserved)

BLOOD MOON RISING

by

Merabeth James

PROLOGUE

(Two years earlier)

Ah, there you be, Miss Feathers, with your fine, fluffy tail wavin’ in the breeze. Tis a fine day all round when I see the lot of you coming to keep an auld lady company while we share a wee bit of breakfast, Morie Grady told the cats that seemed to come from everywhere as soon as the screen door banged open. In every color and size, they leapt on the porch and milled about her feet rubbing her ankles with their heads and sleek bodies, meowing in chorus, or leaping for the tray she carried to the small table that had seen better days.

Not so fast there, me Angus. There’ll be none of your shenanigans this day, she told the huge striped tom that had jumped up next to the tray rattling the stack of mismatched bowls and tipping over the bag of cat chow. Setting him down with the others that were weaving in and out in front of her, she arranged the bowls in a long line then filled each with kibbles.

There’ll be no pushin’ and shovin’ like wee pigs to the trough. There be plenty for everyone, she told them then silently did a head count while they were gathered around their bowls. Ten. One missing. It was white Emma with the tattered ear. It was only lately she had joined them at breakfast instead of watching and waiting from the bushes till the porch was clear before she took a turn at eating.

Ah, there was always one or two of her ferals that worried her the most, she thought as she went back inside and returned with a large, steaming coffee mug. Taking a seat in the wicker chair she had rescued from somewhere and painted a soft lilac, she leaned back with a sigh and looked out over the sea. The wind was gusty and cool churning up white caps on the cobalt blue water as far as she could see. Along the horizon, dark clouds were building, and she knew there would be a weather change before the day was through. Hopefully, it would bring nothing more than rain to worry her.

Turning her face to the sky, she watched the sea gulls circling as they eyed the rocks below the cliff for any gift of food the sea might offer...emitting their raucous calls as the rising sun glinted off their white wings. It was peaceful. A bit of heaven and she sighed again. She was truly blessed to have found a place so close to the sea though a very different sea than the one she had known so long ago. Her eyes grew distant...haunted...as memories overtook her unexpectedly.

She had been so very young when an American who’d been camping out on the headland with his friends had found her walking along the beach one night. He had been exotic and strange...different from anyone she had ever known in all her years. Dazzled by him, she let him take her there lying on the sand at the water’s edge as the waves lapped over their bare feet. He had come to her again and again promising his undying love, and she had been fool enough to believe him. Fool enough to believe that their love would overcome all obstacles...all their differences.

After he’d made sure she couldn’t stay on her island, he’d bought her a forged passport and brought her back to the States. The captain had married them on the return voyage. Four months later, she lost the baby they had conceived shortly after moving in with his mother in the old farmhouse by the river where she’d been nothing more than a servant.

She had learned to cook, and clean, and tend to all that needed doing around the dilapidated old place including nursing his mother through her final days. He was often drunk and gone most nights. Soon, she came to be grateful for that. More than grateful. In the shade of the willow that overhung the river close to the tiny piece of her heart she’d buried there, she often wept out the regrets she had harvested from her walk in the moonlight with a man she never really knew till it was way too late....wept out the loneliness that gnawed at her...the intense longing for her home that she would never see again.

Then one day she had found a cat in the old empty barn whose roof had caved in during a past winter snow. A feral calico with lovely yellow eyes that eased her loneliness. She named her Elspeth and tamed her bit by bit until he had come home unexpectedly one morning and found them together. What happened next was something she had tried to forget for nearly forty-five years. Tried to keep the memory of it from taking root in her thoughts where it would bloom its blood red blossoms.

She shook her head to clear it and took a long sip from the cooling mug she cradled in both hands. Tis but a page written what can’t be changed, and I won’t be thinkin’ on it! she told herself sternly but it was easier said than done. Memories crowded her again.

The very day she tried so hard to forget had brought her freedom and a new life. It had been hard work and often scary being on her own in a foreign country taking what jobs she could find...learning the skills she needed to survive. Moving from place to place...state to state, she always stayed close to the sea where she could look out over the water and lose herself in its vastness...dream of another time and place. Oh, how she had missed it all those landlocked years when she had been with him...missed its infiniteness...the sound and smell of it...the feel of its cool water closing around her young body with a desperation she had never dared voice.

She shook her head. Now why am I remembering all that on this fine day when I should be havin’ better thoughts? she asked the few cats that remained after they had eaten their fill. Ah, now I ken the why of it. Today be the very day I come here twenty years ago. A story I’d be tellin’ the lot of you if you had a mind to listen.

Her own mind slipped back to the day she had walked into the agency she’d been working with since she came to the tiny coastal town nestled in the hills above the blue Pacific. Her current employer had just died after a long illness, and she needed another live-in position as soon as possible, so that she wouldn’t be forced to dip into her meager savings. Martha Browne was a friend of sorts and had always found something for her to do until that morning. She remembered their conversation almost word for word. One that had changed her life forever.

There’s nothing open at the moment except for an impossible position hardly suitable for a woman, she had told her with a wry grimace. Had a call not thirty minutes before you arrived. Another caretaker at Lighthouse Pointe Resort has just walked off the job. Claims it’s haunted, which is what they all say. Of course, there were those guests hideously murdered back in the thirties....

She had cut in hurriedly. It’s not the dead I be fearin’ as much as the livin’. I can do the job and do it proper. There’ll be no complaints, she had told her with as much bravado as she could summon.

Martha had gone on to tell her that the pay would be ‘adequate’ and it came with a small cottage overlooking the sea. Her duties would be twofold: She was to report any necessary emergency repairs and supervise the workers till they were completed. That and ward off any vandals, squatters, or the occasional curiosity seeker who wanted to see the place connected to the murder of five women.

It could be dangerous for a woman on her own, Martha had gone on to warn her. The place has been neglected...empty since the mid 30s and is very isolated. There’s no one to help if you get into trouble. Are you sure about this? Perhaps something more in your line will come in tomorrow.

But she’d been sure. Eager to take it. A cottage of her own next to the sea had sounded like heaven, and now here she was sitting on her own tiny porch with her cats all about her. All the company she had needed for a very long time. It were twenty years ago today that I first set me eyes on the place all mournful lookin’ and filled with its ghosts, she told her remaining feline audience. "Live and let be I had told myself then and now. They niver come here a pesterin’ me, and I niver set foot in the places they haunt though I hear ‘em stirrin’ about and see lights and faces abobbin’ at the windows. Of course, there’s Ben. Ghost though he be, he’s bin a friend...him and his dog. Still fussin’, he is, with the lighthouse that’s been dark for many a year except for those that roam there at night. This be my home for two decades now, and here we’ll be stayin’ till I draw me last breath."

Her faded blue eyes swept the water again. A sailboat was making her way out to sea...white sails against the dark blue water. Below she could hear the waves breaking against the cliff face slowly carving out the sea caves that dotted the entire coastline. Come, me wee darlin’s. Time for our mornin’ walk about to see if all is in tip top shape and nobody pokin’ about where they ought not be. Then a dip in the sea down by the lighthouse beach where......

Suddenly, she heard the crunch of footsteps on the shell path that skirted the side of her cottage. Her heart seemed to stop. She brushed two cats off her lap and was struggling to rise when a deep male voice called out, No need for concern, Mrs. Grady. I mean you no harm. He rounded the corner then and made his way to the bottom of the steps where he stood for a long moment studying her intently. Please don’t get up. I’m Neal North and the owner of this place. Pardon me if I stared. I was just putting a face to all the correspondence the agency passed on to me. The place is still standing from what I could see when I drove up, and I’m sure I have you to thank for it.

She looked at the newcomer. He was quite tall with silver hair and dark brows above warm brown eyes. His smile seemed genuine and her initial unease lessened. Bin here twenty years today, she told him. Have done me best to see that what needs doin’ gets done.

I’m sure of that. As I said, your correspondence with the agency both written and verbal were passed on to me, and I saw that the repairs were hired out in a timely fashion. It was a good arrangement all around. One that kept you at your post when the agency thought they’d found a more suitable replacement. Something I wouldn’t permit. But despite our dual attempts to ward off the effects of time and the elements, the place is sadly in need of refurbishing to say the very least.

And just what would you be expectin’? she told him more sharply than she had intended. You didn’t seem interested in doin’ more than keeping it barely upright and standin’. What are you doin’ here now after all this time if I may be askin’?

Since there was only one chair, he took a seat on the porch rail then told her, If you aren’t too busy, I’d like you to take me around, so I can see it all again. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back here. Of late, to my very great surprise, I found myself missing what was little more than a distant memory. Missing it enough to do something that would have most doubting my sanity. Despite the exorbitant expense, I want to reopen the resort. Bring it back to life. Have the very man in mind to do it, and we need your help even though it will mean a great deal of disruption when you seem to be enjoying your quiet solitude.

Her blue eyes narrowed. I have me cats and find them better company than most that walk on two legs...especially those of the male persuasion.

He laughed. So it would seem. What if I told you I would deed this cottage over to you if you do as I ask? It would be all yours, and I’ll make sure you have your privacy...you and your cats...even when the place is full.

She sighed heavily. You don’t know what yer askin’ of me, but me answer is ‘yes’ though there be others to consider. There be those inside that place who will take a dim view of all that. The ghosties will not be puttin’ up with all of that commotion.

He smiled a most beguiling smile. I’m very much afraid they will have to. Shall we go?

CHAPTER ONE

Charlie swore softly as the condenser screw slipped through her fingers and fell into the engine compartment where it disappeared from view. That’s just great! she exclaimed as she rubbed her itchy nose with the back of her hand adding yet another smudge to the one already there. Hunkering down next to her old Ford pickup, she looked under it for the runaway screw hoping it had fallen all the way through and not lodged someplace inaccessible. Luck was with her. It was visible but just out of reach. She was about to go for her magnet stick when Meg appeared in the doorway.

Whenever I go past the stairs to her apartment, I can still picture Annie standing there, which creeps me out more than a little, Meg told her as she took in the scene before her. How’s it going or do I dare ask judging from that scowl? When are you going to quit nursing that poor tired old thing and send it to the truck equivalent of the elephant burial ground?

Charlie’s scowl deepened. "It’s called sentiment, Meg. And she’s not an it. This old girl and I go back a lot of miles, and if you’re going to be standing around make yourself useful. Hand me that long stick behind you on my workbench. The one with the magnet on the end."

Meg looked around blankly at the tool bench and shelves. What is it I’m supposed to be looking for? she asked as she headed that way picking her way through the bits and pieces that had been stored in the old garage.

It’s right in front of your nose! she replied with a touch of impatience. The stick with the black point. That’s it. Now bring it here while you tell me why you’re out here bothering me for the fourth time since I started all this.

Meg handed her the stick and added a sniff before she said, As you know, it’s Agnes’ day off and Constance is visiting her sister, so it’s just us for dinner, and I ordered pizza which should be here in about ten minutes or less since neither one of us wants to cook tonight.

Fine by me. Extra mushrooms, right? she asked as she swept the magnet under the truck and retrieved the wayward screw.

As though I’d forget. By the way....

She hesitated and Charlie looked up in surprise. What is that smile for that makes me very suspicious you might be up to something I don’t really want to know about?

It might be a good thing, Meg pointed out.

"Then again it might not depending on what you’re asking me to do....or not do. By the way, don’t go anywhere. I’m going to need your help in just a bit. Since I can’t be in two places at once, you’re going to ‘click’ the engine for me while I set the points."

Meg sighed. "All of which means squat to me. What if I break something while I’m doing this clicking thing?"

Charlie laughed. There’s not much required, and I’ll talk you through it.

Like I’m some mechanical idiot?

Exactly. Now back to what you’re doing here beyond announcing an incoming pizza delivery.

Meg smiled brightly. Remember the flyer that came in the mail? The one I told you about a few weeks ago?

No.

Sure you do! she prodded with a touch of exasperation. It was for a grand re-opening at a major resort in California where it’s nice and warm these days as opposed to here where it’s not...at least at the moment.

And this concerns us how?

There was a contest and just for fun I entered it never thinking there was much of a chance, but then we never dreamt we’d win this place either, yet here we are at our very own haunted Hensley Hall... pardon my excessive alliteration.

Charlie narrowed her silver gray eyes as she looked at her younger sibling. And why do I already know I don’t want to hear any more?

Meg groaned then grinned. Stop being whatever you’re being, Charlie! I’ve been beside myself ever since the registered letter came an hour ago trying to decide how to ease you into the whole idea when you’re not so prickly like you are now when things aren’t going well, or when you’re working on your book and in a funk, or in the morning any time before coffee which covers a whole lot of territory come to think of it, but wrong time or not I can’t wait one moment longer. We won! Can you even imagine? An all expense paid vacation to Lighthouse Pointe Resort for two...namely you and me. Isn’t that way beyond fabulous?

Charlie rolled her eyes and sighed. What’s the catch?

Meg frowned and planted both hands on her hips. Can’t it just be what it is? A chance to have some fun in the sun at a beautiful seaside resort...you saw the photos even if you don’t remember...and play for awhile where there’s no ghosts, or vampires, or werewolves, or Darklings, or any of the horde of other total undesirables that seem to follow us around like a big black cloud?

Seeing the increasingly obstinate tilt to Meg’s plump chin, Charlie had to smile. Sorry if I tend to look a gift horse in the mouth and count every back molar. I really wish you had talked with me before you did all this. I’m not exactly the resort type and neither are you.

Maybe I could be...just for a week. I can picture me lying in a deck chair by the pool while a bronzed male attendant with gorgeous eyes rubs sun tan lotion over my entire body. Of course, that means finding a bathing suit that makes me look twenty...or so... pounds lighter, but you’ll look great. Men will be all over you...normal men and not of the inhuman variety. Wouldn’t that be nice for a change? Imagine sun bleached blonde surfer boys and tiki bars with tiny umbrellas in frosty cold drinks. Moonlit beaches and blue water as far as you can see. Things might even get interesting in the romance department for both of us, so don’t even think of wet blanketing this.

You do know this isn’t spring break and we’re not two teenagers in some classic beach party movie you overdosed on as a kid, don’t you?

Meg yanked her silver blonde ponytail hard enough to produce a satisfying ‘ouch’. I just told you, Charlie, no wet blankets not even the sandy kind. I want to do this. It will be good for both of us even without a Frankie what’s his name in the picture.

It was Avalon and okay. We’ll do it, but I’m bringing my laptop for when I’ve had my fill of watching dewy eyed lovers strolling the beach, and oldsters sitting around the pool playing cards, and teenagers doing whatever they want to do.

No laptops! You could take up surfing. Go kayaking. There’s even sea caves to explore though I think we’ve both had our fill of anything under good old terra firma by now.

You do know you’re becoming a pain in the ass, don’t you?

Only because you happen to mention it about a zillion times. The delivery pizza guy just pulled up, so I’ll go pay him and come back. We can eat out here while we make plans. You know the hard part is leaving Freddie again. He probably thinks he’s Agnes’ dog by now.

Charlie watched Meg head out the door and up the drive to the battered station wagon with the pizza delivery sign fastened to the roof. Meg really wanted this, she thought with a sigh, and maybe she was right. Maybe a little bit of doing nothing would be good for both of them. It was a resort with all the normal, natural things that went with it. Not a place of darkness and evil, which is