Blurb:
For Laura, house-sitting at an old Victorian mansion seems the perfect job. However, little does she know that the house holds an abundance of secrets, including a mysterious book that’s much more than it seems. When the owners’ cat goes missing, Laura accepts help from an unlikely source to find the feline. But in doing so, has she crossed the line between fantasy and reality?
Excerpt:
Laura gulped and stood rooted to the spot. A pair of large, glowing eyes stared at her through the leafless trees. Their orange pupils matched the flaming sunset blanketing the spring sky. She internally berated herself for not remembering what her grandpa had taught her about wild animal encounters. Was she supposed to run, or hide?
It was a moot point, seeing as how her feet refused to move. She shoved her trembling hand inside her purse and rummaged for her new glasses: bifocals the optometrist insisted she needed for her over-the-hill eyes. Though she’d recently turned forty, Laura denied her age. Rather than face reality, she declared herself to be twenty-nine-and-holding to anyone who broached the subject of her birthday.
Her shaky fingers fumbled over a soft leather eyeglass case. Seconds later, she donned the bifocals and adjusted the lenses up and down until she pinpointed the correct angle. Whew! A wave of relief washed over her. The eerie eyes were only eyelid windows illuminated by lamps.
She blew out a breath. None of this would have happened if she’d arrived earlier. Out here, each dirt road looked identical to all the others. Of course, it didn’t help that the residents of the small rural community offered directions via landmarks instead of street names. Somehow, Laura had found the abandoned schoolhouse with a busted bell, Mr. Jensen’s blue barn, Mrs. Marley’s red rooster mailbox, and finally, the Digbys’ Victorian mansion.
Wispy shadows loomed over the center turret, which divided the house in half. Dense climbing ivy grew wild across the mansion’s exterior, making it appear as though it could benefit from a good shave. The row of broken bricks on the crumbling front porch steps resembled chipped teeth. Taking in the myriad facial features, she mutely questioned if the house was alive.
Laura shuddered at the notion and took several cautious steps forward. Gravel crunched beneath her feet, echoing in the silent night. She proceeded down the path and hastened her pace past a long hedge of tall evergreen bushes. Rustling and growling in the branches sent shivers throughout her body.
“Mrrowr!”
Laura whirled around, her chest heaving from fear and her lungs wheezing for air. She squinted at the ground.
“Meow!” A brown tabby cat dashed out of the bushes and raced toward the house.
“What’s your hurry?” Laura pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose, not expecting the feline to fire an answer back, and kept walking. Gravel gnashed on the path behind her and a forceful pressure on her shoulder stopped Laura cold in her tracks. She gasped and peeked at the masculine, mud-smeared hand glommed onto her shoulder. “W-Who are you?”
