To save her ghost-hunting career, psychic Kayde Foster must confront an evil and darkly attractive entity that has taken up residence in her uncle's business.
***
Kayde prides herself on being fearless. Ghosts? Crumbling buildings? Scary legends? No...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Wow! Kayde! It's—"
"Beautiful," I breathed, pressing my nose against the passenger window. My eyes trailed over the neat, checkered brick that was the driveway, to the trimmed and tightly packed bushes hugging the wide staircase that led to the front doors. In the breeze, they tossed left and right, making it look like a sea of colors.
Holy. Shit.
The place was massive. Rustic. I had only seen it online in a few photos, but seeing it real and up close was a unique thing entirely. The photos did not do it justice... at all.
Sitting three stories tall and like a summer dream, Tales Untold overlooked a sloping hill and a vast forest, appearing inviting and warm.
It likely didn't reflect what was within.
The mansion's two chimneys rose like horns on either side, framing the grand structure. On the east side of the property, a bubbling brook snaked through the trees, lined with reeds that rustled. The lawn held neatly spaced adolescent pecan trees. A small bridge cut across the water in the brook, a trail leading back behind the mansion.
Maybe a garden?
"How much do you think this place is worth?" Darby wondered, pulling in front of the large entrance. My breath whooshed out of my lungs as I took in the intricate architecture. The building was a masterpiece, with every stone carefully carved and placed. Hot damn.
A massive sign hung between marble pillars with the words "Tales Untold" scrawled in bold—the only indication of the location.
My uncle certainly had taste. Not with his wardrobe...
"Maybe twenty million?" I pressed my face harder against the glass, trying to recognize the flowers in the flower beds. Hydrangea. Rose Moss. Wild mint? I rolled down my window, inhaling. Yeah, that's mint.
The crisp aroma made my chest ache for my childhood. It reminded me of summers spent running amuck with Darby in my trailer park as we looked for decent trees to climb. We were always in trouble. The good old days. Things were much simpler then, when we didn't have to worry about bills or credit scores.
As the sun set lower, the shadows in the forest grew longer. More dense. An invisible string, like a lasso, pulled me closer to the mansion. Calling to me.
I got out of the vehicle, unnerved by the sudden tranquility. "Something feels off," I mumbled when Darby got out to stand beside me. I let my eyes flicker across the windows, trying to catch any spirits. There was no movement. Nothing. "It's oddly quiet. Oddly... peaceful. But there's—"
"Look!"Darby pointed to the side of the garage, where a cluster of metallic trinkets hung from a gutter. "Witch Bells."
