The Spirit Suitor: A Spectral City Novella

By Leanna Renee Hieber

A ghost and an exorcist make an unlikely pair. But from the moment Maggie Hathorn tumbled into Reverend Coronado, it was love at first possession… 

In 1899 Manhattan, the impending turn of the century has put both the living and the dead on edge. As the spirit of a socialite who has haunted the city streets for longer than she walked them, Maggie now spends her afterlife helping to solve crimes for New York City’s Ghost Precinct. When Coronado gets roped into investigating a murder at a nearby church, Maggie jumps at the opportunity to flex her sleuthing skills and spend more time with the distressingly handsome reverend. But as familiar with death as Maggie is, she is not prepared for the gruesome sight of the crime scene. A beautiful bride lies in a pool of blood beside her beloved, in a scene that reminds Maggie of her own final moments. Maggie can’t even look at the bride’s ghost without being thrust into traumatic memories and losing her grip on the living world. The last thing Maggie wants is to lose this spectral second chance at life that she’s been given. But how can she help this dead bride without endangering her own spirit? Maggie will have to draw on her strongest bonds and connections to keep herself tethered while she confronts her own mortality. It’s a good thing Reverend Coronado is there by her side. No one else has ever made her feel so alive.

Spend more time with some familiar characters from Leanna Renee Hieber’s The Spectral City in this first book in fresh, new series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Aug 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094441931

Leanna Renee Hieber

Raised in rural Ohio and obsessed with the Victorian Era, Leanna’s life goal is to be a ”gateway drug to 19th century literature.” An actress, playwright and award winning author, she lives in New York City and is a devotee of ghost stories and Goth clubs. Visit www.leannareneeheiber.com

Book preview

PROLOGUE

MANHATTAN, 1899, LATE AUTUMN

If I possess someone, the spirit thought, I’ll finally make progress on this damnable case.

This was the logic that propelled Maggie Hathorn’s bold, irrepressible ghost up Fifth Avenue as she peeked into fine mansions and considered her options. Every now and then someone peeked out a window back, starting and recoiling as her luminous greyscale form wafted by. At this, Maggie threw her head back in a delighted laugh. Startling the living never grew tiresome.

Shouldn’t I practice, though, Maggie thought, before diving in? The far steadier voice of her darling employer Eve Whitby – who had given Maggie such purpose in haunting the city – sounded in her mind with a caution; if Maggie was too hasty and something were to go wrong, the case could be ruined. She had to know what she was doing if she was about to manipulate a living body. That was something that needed practicing.

Struck by inspiration, she thought about an old family friend – Reverend Blessing, the exorcist. She headed towards an Upper West Side apartment she knew well. Aunt Evelyn and Blessing were friends from the early days of their paranormal gifts. He would know what to do.

Up and over Central Park she flew, a luminous bird on an updraft of spectral wind.

The brownstone Reverend Blessing called home was equidistant from several Episcopal, Protestant churches where he served as a supply pastor. He additionally covered the whole of Manhattan as one of the most reliable visiting pastors to shut-ins, hospital patients, asylum dwellers and more. She dove down past surrounding spires with care, enjoying the details of rooftops and the scents of dinners in the air.

Wafting through the wooden front door, Maggie sent the reverend’s beloved rescue animals skittering in surprise. No one barked, but three nervous greyhounds stared at her in suspicion, poking their heads out from behind worn wooden furniture.

The reverend, dressed in one of his well-kept black clerical suits and white collar, was sitting by a fire that cast a halo-like glow about him. His brown skin and aging, distinguished features lit warmly, his dark eyes glimmered in the firelight. The late autumn chill as the century neared its close was creeping into the house in subtle drafts. He sat with a cup of spiced cider, humming a gospel hymn. The shift of his eyes towards the corner of the room where Maggie floated was indication that he was aware some spirit was in his midst, but he made no move to greet her further. That he tended to refrain from taking off his clerical uniform until it was time for night dress meant Maggie should still consider him at work.

Looking at his aging body, neatly trimmed white hair and serene face, Maggie did not wish to disturb him. He had been through many troubles already and she feared doing anything that might affect or strain his physical health; he was hardly the spry spiritual warrior he used to be.

Footsteps on the floor above reminded Maggie that Reverend Blessing wasn’t the only exorcist in the house. There was Reverend Coronado, the younger protégé of Blessing. She sent herself up through the wooden floorboards, the smooth oak grazing her senses gently as she passed between floors and found herself in the comfortable, well-loved library of the residence, her face jutting out from corner bookshelves. She stared at a beautiful, black-haired, olive-skinned man in the same ensemble of black suit and white clerical collar. He was much younger and, as had been often noted among the Ghost Precinct staff, distressingly handsome.

Her movement at the bookshelf caught the gentleman’s eye. Maggie was used to this; being seen out of the corner of an eye. Only the truly gifted could stare head on at a spirit and maintain the sight of them for any consistent length of time without their ghostly forms flickering from view. As he turned in her direction, his eyes seemed to latch onto her then lose her, then find and lose her again, as if she were coming in and out of focus. But he saw her well enough to proceed. He was the first to break the silence between them.

Hello, spirit, are you here for some purpose? he asked gently.

Yes, Maggie replied. Can you hear me speak well enough? Not all who see spirits can hear them.

Faintly, he replied. I know you, don’t I? Aren’t you Eve Whitby’s leading Ghost Precinct operative?

Exactly so. Maggie Hathorn at your service, Reverend Coronado.

How may I be of service to you, Miss Hathorn? Why do you come calling upon a man of the cloth at this late hour?

Forgive my untimely intrusion into your private residence, but I am in a significant hurry to make progress on our current case involving the Prenze family. But before I take a bold step I’ve never taken, I need to practice.

The reverend tilted his head in clear curiosity. Maggie bobbed in the air excitedly as she announced: I need to possess someone.

Coronado couldn’t help but sputter a small, surprised laugh. Maggie explained in a torrent, I’ve never done so. It occurred to me the safest thing to do to practice the act of taking over a living body might be to make my first attempt with someone whose duty it is to extricate a spirit. You know, in case something goes wrong.

Unorthodox … but I suppose I see your point.

It would only be for a moment, until I could determine whether or not I could prompt a body to move. I am hoping to free someone from abuse in our current Ghost Precinct case, and I can only do so if I can have an effect on the body.

I see. The reverend thought a moment, as if weighing the risks. Well, you did come to an exorcist, and I suppose we would be remiss to pass up the chance to experience the potential of different entities firsthand. It would be … interesting research. All right … how do we begin?

Maggie smiled sheepishly, floating closer. Goodness, his beauty was a point of absolute distraction. I’m not entirely sure, but I believe I’ll just … move close and …

She didn’t mean to go face-first against him but she did. She shifted her lips against his –a shockingly pleasant sensation that drew a swift intake of breath out of the reverend, a sensual sound – and then Maggie fell forward.

There was a tumble, a tangle, a wrestling sensation that affected every inch of Maggie’s body. It was disconcerting yet invigorating. The reverend’s warm welcome – she didn’t know how else to think of it – was how she’d imagined holding one’s true love might feel. A frisson of exquisite delight overtook her form and the reverend’s body echoed the delighted shudder.

She hoped he didn’t hear or somehow know she was thinking such bold thoughts and feeling quite so intimate. She heard a low, resonant chuckle, but it came to her as if from underwater. Oh no… Was he hearing her thoughts? Did he know how immediately overwhelmed by him she had become?

Yes, Miss Hathorn. You might want to hold your thoughts closer if you don’t want me to hear them, know them or feel them … the reverend said aloud, with distinct amusement.

Maggie sputtered with embarrassment. She felt a rush of panic flood the traces of her body. What echo of skin she still carried grew hot with his body’s warmth against hers. She tried to get her senses to come around but all she saw was darkness. She felt like she had been enveloped in soft winding sheets, a pressure spread over every inch of her. Moving was difficult and there was no light to guide her.

Turn around, he guided aloud. I think you’re facing the back of me.

Are you in pain? she asked meekly. Even moving her mouth felt blocked, like she was speaking under layers of fabric. That it was a body enfolding her and not textiles tried her senses.

Not at all, he said with a soft, delicious intonation. "Though I can’t say I’ve ever experienced anything like

Reviews for The Spirit Suitor

[Shania24 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I’m enjoying the book. I think there’s other, more compelling ways to describe brown/ African skin: ‘a rich charcoal’ doesn’t cut it. I can’t picture that.

Update: I reread the part and it’s a ghost so maybe it’s a phantom/ Shadow type of thing. But it still doesn’t make full sense as his eyes are hazel…

Thanks