My Favorite Ghost

By Susanne Marie Knight

New Contemporary Romance With A Twist Of Paranormal!

Is it possible to make love to a ghost?

HIS DREAM COME TRUE
Billionaire Timothy Bolland Carter is having a very interesting day... and night. First he finds out that he has a previously unknown great grandmother, Emaline, who is not only turning one hundred years old, but who also practices Appalachian Granny Magic. Then, he receives a wake-up call--literally. A very friendly... and passionate ghost visits his bed in the dark of the night. He doesn't know the woman and she doesn't let herself be seen. When morning arrives, not only is she gone but there's absolutely no way she could have entered or departed from his penthouse apartment. She says she's a ghost, but is she really? How can Carter find her again?

HER WORST NIGHTMARE
Doctor Gabrielle (Gabby) Rossi has her life on track. So what if she's twenty-nine, single, with no special man on the horizon? When billionaire Timothy Bolland Carter arrives at her medical office to handle a cyber attack, she ignores him as if he had the plague. This man was responsible for "knocking up" and abandoning her best friend. But even though she gives him the cold shoulder, she can't help but fantasize about indulging in some late night aerobics... in the privacy of her mind, of course. A couple of intense dreams later, and then... Wait a minute! How did she get pregnant?

Praise For MY FAVORITE GHOST

5 Stars!! A great way to start the New Year! Carter is a billionaire with a problem in bed. No, it doesn't have to do with women... then again, maybe it does. After he visits with his long-lost great grandmother--who tells him she practices Appalachian Granny Magic--his sleep problems get worse... or better, depending on how you look at it. Carter is a wonderfully appealing character who treats everyone with respect. He is interested in his nighttime ghost, but also feels a connection with a Doctor Gabby, who won't give him the time of day. Getting these two together was fun to read. Their delightful banter made me keep turning the pages. I had no idea how this unusual situation would resolve itself. Ms. Knight delivers once again!--Just Imagine Fanzine

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susanne Marie Knight
• Release date: Jan 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215797051

Susanne Marie Knight

Award-winning author and seven time EPPIE / EPIC eBook Award Finalist Susanne Marie Knight specializes in Romance Writing with a Twist! She is multi-published with books, short stories, and articles in such diverse genres as Regency, science fiction, mystery, paranormal, suspense, time-travel, fantasy, and contemporary romance. Originally from New York, Susanne lives in the Pacific Northwest, by way of Okinawa, Montana, Alabama, and Florida. Along with her husband and the spirit of her feisty Siamese cat, she enjoys the area's beautiful ponderosa pine trees and wide, open spaces--a perfect environment for writing. For more information about Susanne, visit her website at www.susanneknight.com.

Book preview

Chapter One

October 27

Damn.

Sitting up in bed, Carter ran his hand through his thick mop of hair. A glance at the digital clock on his bedstand revealed the time to be the indecent hour of 2:32 in the morning. Indecent, only if he was trying to sleep.

Which he was... trying, but unfortunately, it happened again.

Blast. How many nights in a row had this happened? Twelve? More? Just as he fell asleep, shaking off the cares and concerns of the day, then hell, something cold touched him. Something damn icy caressed him. Something yanked him right out of his much required sleep.

Who the hell needed this? It was almost as if he was haunted, stroked by something from beyond the grave.

A shudder ran through him. What in God’s good name was wrong with him?

Throwing off the covers, Carter walked barefoot, in fact bare assed, over to his computer console in his living room. He flipped on the switch to draw the heavy drapes closed on the two walls of windows, thereby shutting out the magical sight of Denver’s skyline and the majestic range of mountains in the distance.

He might as well start the workday early--real early. It was a sure bet he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

The chill in the air alerted him of the need for a robe. Plus there was the unpleasant thought that someone, or something, essentially intangible, had actually touched him.

Impossible, really, however he couldn’t help shivering as he slipped into his Turkish robe. Hell, this sleep depravation was really messing with his mind.

Two mugs of coffee later, along with a pair of bleary eyes, he’d finished skimming his company’s emails on its own encrypted network. Obviously top-of-the-line secure. After all, his business, CBP Enterprises, International’s motto was cyber security that never sleeps.

Carter yawned. He was beginning to think he was taking the slogan literally.

Next he checked his upcoming schedule. Today--Friday--was rather light, especially now that he’d already been working for two hours. In the morning he had to review three new clients’ network security systems to ensure cyber safety. In the afternoon there were two routine meetings: one, to discuss current status with CBP Enterprises’ department heads, and two, to thrash out the pros and cons of whether to bid on an international project based in the South Pacific.

The biggest thing on his agenda was an emergency trip to a financial institution located in Nashville, Tennessee. The emergency meeting was scheduled to start first thing Monday morning at nine.

Carter brushed back his unkempt bed hair. This investment bank had suffered a major breach in data security, costing at least seven million dollars, to date.

Truthfully, he couldn’t sympathize. Last year, the institution had turned down CBP’s bid. The board of directors had then settled on an inferior cyber security company. So, this was the unfortunate result.

His flight had been already set up to leave Denver at eight, Sunday night. Travel time to Nashville was two and a half hours, but Central Time, so local time would be eleven thirty when he landed. Then, transport and settling in at the hotel would probably take another hour or so.

He massaged the bridge of his nose. Hell, the way he felt right now, he could’ve slept twenty-four hours straight--or more. But that was not to be.

So, sure, he could wake up for that nine a.m. meeting; after all he was getting by without much sleep, anyway. Besides, he was what the business world called a classic genius, a foremost expert in his field--the establishment’s opinion, not his own. But it was safe to say he’d review the client’s system to uncover any vulnerabilities, backdoor entrances into the security system, unauthorized users, malicious malware, cyberstalking, whatever. And, to that end, CBP Enterprises would manage and eliminate any future incidents.

He’d allot Monday and Tuesday to the financial institution, but then he’d be returning to Denver on Wednesday, Wednesday November first.

Carter yawned. Perhaps after this trip, he should schedule a mini-vacation somewhere. Someplace he could just relax... and sleep.

Yawning again, he eyed the bedroom. Or, maybe he should just return to his bed.

About to put his computer to sleep... Oh hell, there was that word again... he clicked on his personal messages.

Wrong move. There, on an unencrypted webmail interface, sat four emails from his mother, basically sent one after the other. Tabitha Bolland Carter never used the encrypted connection he’d set up for her.

Timothy!, was the subject of the first one.

Timothy I need to talk to you, was the second one.

This is important, Timothy, read the third.

And the last: Timothy Bolland Carter! Get back to me!

All were urgent sounding, but of course, with Tabitha, urgent was her middle name.

He took her emergency with a grain of salt. After all, if whatever she was messaging him about was that important, she would’ve phoned or texted him. He knew her well enough to know how she worked: rather than taking responsibilities for certain situations, she threw it all back on him.

To be contrary, he got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. Inhaling the strong chicory root aroma, he then took a sip. Now prepared, he opened the first email.

Timothy, this is Mother.

He shook his head in disgust. Obviously.

I have to talk to you about something extremely important, Timothy.

End of message. Well, that was enlightening, wasn’t it? The only thing he got out of her words was that she started with his name, and ended with it, as well.

And that, perhaps, was why he preferred to be called Carter. More impersonal.

He clicked on message two.

Timothy, why haven’t you gotten back to me? Anyway, Timothy, your assistant Valerie--nice girl, good family--told me you’ll be in Nashville, Tennessee on Monday and Tuesday. I have something I need to talk to you about. Get back to me, Timothy.

He massaged the bridge of his nose, again. Tabitha was in top form, although why she asked his assistant about his schedule was unknown. Unusual.

Sighing, he tried message number three.

Timothy, I’m waiting. So, since you’ll be in Nashville, you need to take a side trip, about a two and a half hour drive. Three hours, at most. Still in Tennessee, but this place is in the mountains. In the backwoods. You can be back in time for your return trip on Wednesday.

Well, this was peculiar. He could admit to being intrigued. First, Tabitha only used his name once. But never mind that, why on God’s good Earth did she want him to drive to someplace outside the city of Nashville? What possible purpose did his blue-blooded mother have for sending him on a trip to the Appalachian Mountains?

Message number four had his complete attention.

Timothy, I know you have questions. I also know that I’ve never spoken to you about Emaline Jones. Timothy, she’s your great grandmother. She’s turning one hundred on Tuesday, Halloween.

What?

He had a living great grandmother? Someone he knew nothing about? Carter had to leave the computer screen to pace out his intense emotions.

He sank down on the couch and rubbed at his forehead. How could this have happened? Tabitha was all about family. At least that was her party line. That was why his middle name was Bolland--her birth name. That was why CBP in the name of the company he founded, CBP Enterprises, was comprised of Carter, Bolland, and Paines. Paines was for Carter’s paternal grandmother’s birth name.

All his grandparents and great grandparents were gone, along with his father, Randolph Carter. The only relative he had left was his mother. But now Tabitha was telling him that all this time he had a great grandmother in Tennessee, about to celebrate her one-hundredth birthday?

Any vestiges of sleep were now completely replaced with outrage. Outrage at Tabitha.

Wait. He had to finish the email. There was a chance that perhaps she hadn’t known about Emaline Jones.

He returned to the computer screen.

Now, Timothy, before you get all upset...

Too late. He couldn’t help fuming.

... you’ve got to realize, Timothy, that your great grandmother, Emaline, is one of those mountain folks. Redneck hillbillies, you know, not one of us. Goodness, she even, well, it’s said she practices magic and witchcraft.

Hmmn. Magic and witchcraft? Maybe his mother took after Emaline. Tabitha certainly could be a witch... or bitch on occasion.

Back to the message: You’re probably wondering how Emaline is related to us. Alfred and Emaline Jones were my grandparents, and their daughter Lily, was, of course, my mother. Your grandmother. Lily rose above her humble beginnings, and quite frankly, I, as a Bolland, did as well.

Well, that was a matter of opinion.

So, continuing. Timothy, Emaline doesn’t have a phone. Nor internet access, of course. Honestly, there is no way she could contact me, except... well, to be truthful, I had a dreadful dream. A witch’s brew type of dream. In it, the witch said you, Timothy, needed to visit your great grandmother Emaline for her birthday. Her one-hundredth birthday.

Then I woke up to a bird, a crow, crashing into my bedroom window. Timothy, my mother, Lily, always told me about certain superstitions common to mountain folk. One of them is that if a bird hits a bedroom window while you’re dreaming, it’s a sure sign that if you don’t follow the dictates of the dream, someone will die.

Carter was, in a word, speechless. His mother actually wrote this email? This was what she actually believed?

Timothy, I’m sure you see the importance of taking this little detour to the mountains. After all, you don’t want to die, and neither do I. I’m texting you the directions to Emaline’s log cabin. Be sure to get back to me on this, Timothy. I wish you good luck, in advance. Love, Mother.

In disbelief, Carter pulled away from the computer console and then headed for the shower stall. The schedule for Friday was no longer light. In addition to his regular duties and meetings, he now had to research the best route to travel to the Appalachian Mountains. And he had to, or rather his assistant Valerie had to, change the car rental to an SUV with four-wheel drive.

As warm water cascaded down his back, Carter whistled. Yeah, he whistled a happy tune. Emaline Jones, his great grandmother. This was the best news he’d ever received. Even better than when the company he’d founded, CBP Enterprises, went public on the stock exchange.

Much, much better. He grinned.

What was this, no doubt, independent and feisty mountain woman like? What would she think of him? He couldn’t arrive at her log cabin empty-handed, without bearing gifts. Perhaps the most difficult thing he’d have to do was think of a perfect birthday gift or gifts suited for a centenarian who happened to be his previously unknown great grandmother.

Carter smiled. Yeah, this was turning out to be a pretty good day, indeed!

* * * *

Hey. CBP Enterprises’ Chief Legal Counselor Jake Parsons entered Carter’s office with a perfunctory knock. I brought you a doppio espresso. Y’know, it’s a double shot. After our three o’clock meeting, you look like you need a wake up.

Carter waved his friend in. Yeah, I appreciate the coffee run, Jake. Talking about the South Pacific deal made me wish I was back there, sunning on the pristine sands of a deserted beach instead of being here, in Denver, with the threat of an early snow.

As usual, Jake settled in the comfortable tufted chair across from the golden oak desk. He and Carter went back quite a ways. They’d met in college, roomed together, shared food, disappointments, and even girlfriends on occasion. Jake had gone for his law degree while Carter focused on information systems. As Chief Legal Counselor with CBP Enterprises, Jake had found a perfect fit for his left-brained, detailed-oriented mind. Tall, slender, and buff, he was the epitome of a carefree, wealthy bachelor, complete with wild, spiked up brown hair.

Carter, was also rather devil-may-care. He could admit that. His sun-streaked wavy hair curled this way and that, while his piercing blue eyes were bracketed by crows feet at the very early age of thirty-three. At least, he felt that thirty-three was too young to be hampered by wrinkles.

Ah well. He shrugged.

Jake nodded. Yeah, I could tell you were off your game at the meeting. He raised his eyebrows, creating a few grooves in his forehead. Do you still have sleep issues?

Carter leaned back in his executive chair. He glanced out his window at the heavily populated skyline of big business high-rises. CBP Enterprises was located among these giants of industry. This view gave him validation for all his hard work over the years.

He turned back to his friend. Yeah. I do, unfortunately. Got up at two thirty this morning.

Have you tried sleeping pills?

And wake up groggy? No, in this business, I’ve got to be working on all cylinders.

What about using a blue light shade at night for your computer? Or better yet, Carter, avoid all electronic devices after, say, eight o’clock.

Carter scrunched his lips. Yeah, yeah, what do you think I am, a novice? Of course I know exposure to blue light at night can suppress the production of melatonin, which then makes it harder to fall asleep. But, no, that’s not it. I fall asleep just fine. It’s the middle of the night--or early morning syndrome that gets me.

He hadn’t told anyone, not even Jake, about the icy fingers... or well, something that settled on his skin and deprived him of sleep. If he did mention that, Jake would’ve thought he was certifiable.

Jake scratched his long nose. What about sex then? A tangle between the sheets with Scintillating Samantha should knock you out for the entire night. Or have you moved on?

Carter finished the heavily caffeinated coffee and set the mug on his desktop. Samantha had been fun, but there was something missing. Instead of Scintillating Samantha, he’d call her Shallow Samantha.

I’m seeing her tomorrow night. But, well, you know how it goes. I’m going to tell her it’s over.

Jake blew out a blast of air. Ho! As your legal counsel, if I may advise, make up something to let her down gently. That woman has claws; I’ve seen her in action.

So have I. Carter shrugged. I’ll give her the it’s not you, it’s me scenario. Which, actually is true. I don’t have the time nor the energy for a high maintenance woman.

So you’re saying what you’re looking for is a low maintenance woman?

Turning toward the ledge on his oversized window, Carter admired his large pots of Lilium lancifolium, lining the window. Or, in other words, his tiger lilies. Standing, he walked over to the ledge and pinched off dead leaves on the plants. Then he sprayed a mist of water onto the curved and speckled orange petals. His maternal grandmother, Lily, had always loved these flowers. When she passed away twenty years ago, he was only thirteen, but he took over the care of her collection. And now he loved tiger lilies, too.

He then rested against the edge of the shelf. "What I’m looking for, Jake, as odd as it