“Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He was taller than her, but no more than six feet or so in boots. Worn jeans were topped by a black T-shirt. He had good hands, she noted, and surprisingly long hair. Far too long for your average cop.
“It does to me. Look, I appreciate you saving my life, but I’m fine, now, and I really don’t have time to play games.”
He drew her closer until his mouth moved against her temple. “You need to go back to New York. No questions, no detours, just get on the highway and drive.”
He used the fingers of his other hand to capture her chin. “Do it, Isabella. Now. While you can.” Then he drew her closer still, set his mouth next to her ear and added a soft, “If you want to live, you need to get as far away from this house as possible.”
Darkwood Manor
Jenna Ryan
MILLS & BOON
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In Memory of Sheena
You were a strong, brave girl all through your life.
Now Heaven has a beautiful new angel.
Fly fast and free, sweet Little Pea.
We’ll always be with you.
We’ll always love you…
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenna started making up stories before she could read or write. Growing up, romance always had a strong appeal, but romantic suspense was the perfect fit. She tried out a number of different careers, including modeling, interior design and travel, but writing has always been her one true love. That and her longtime partner, Rod.
Inspired from book to book by her sister Kathy, she lives in a rural setting fifteen minutes from the city of Victoria, British Columbia. It’s taken a lot of years, but she’s finally slowed the frantic pace and adopted a West Coast mindset. Stay active, stay healthy, keep it simple. Enjoy the ride, enjoy the read. All of that works for her, but what she continues to enjoy most is writing stories she loves. She also loves reader feedback. Email her at [email protected] or visit Jenna Ryan on Facebook.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Isabella Ross—Her ex-boyfriend left her a haunted mansion in Maine.
Donovan Black—He is a descendant of Darkwood Manor’s malevolent original owner.
Katie Lynn Ross—Isabella’s cousin disappears from the manor soon after their arrival.
Darlene Calvert—Donovan’s cousin is desperate to get out of town.
George Calvert—Donovan’s aunt feels like a prisoner of her own father’s will.
Orry Lucas—The acting Sheriff has aspirations and more than a few secrets.
Gordie Tallahassee—The local Realtor sees a gold mine in the shadowy manor.
Robert Drake—The developer is hungry to purchase Darkwood Manor.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Prologue
The road that wound northward along the rocky Maine coast felt slick beneath the tires of David Morris Gimbel’s vintage Corvette.
He grinned as the car jumped forward. You couldn’t do speeds like this in the city, and a vehicle needed to stretch its legs every now and then. Plus the text message he’d received that afternoon had sounded urgent. He was considering the implications when his cell phone interrupted.
He glanced at the screen. “I’m twenty miles away, Haden. More problems?”
“Lights winking off and on,” the man on the other end responded. “I’ve been hearing moans and thumps, too. Then, not five minutes ago, a wail that made every hair on my body stand up. Saw a shadow on the cliff, but it disappeared when the wail started.”
David navigated a hard corner one-handed, squinted into the misty night. “Shadows are made by people. So are noises and light switches. Wail could’ve been a dog hunting for a mate.”
“I’ve had three dogs in my time, Gimbel. None of ’em ever made a sound like that.”
“Nineteen miles.” David scoped the road before him. Unless his mental GPS had been thrown off by the moonless September night, he was two wide turns away from Cemetery Point. He gunned it through number one and strove for patience.
“Lock your doors, draw your shades and pour a couple fingers of whiskey. The next sound you hear will be me screeching to a halt in front of your cottage.”
“I can hear you
