Charmed Spirits

Charmed Spirits Blurb

Jordan Cross has returned to
Holiday, Montana after eleven long years to clear out her late aunt’s house,
put it on the market, and figure out what she wants to do with the rest of her
life. Soon, she finds herself facing the town that turned its back on her
because she was different. Because being labeled a witch in a small town didn’t
earn her many friends...especially when it wasn't a lie.

Matt Cooper has lived in Holiday
his whole life. He's perfectly content being a bachelor alongside his four
single brothers in a very small town. After all, the only woman he'd ever loved
ran out on him without a goodbye. But now Jordan’s back and just as bewitching
as ever. Can they rekindle their romance with a town set against them?

Warning: Contains an intelligent,
sexy witch with an attitude and drop-dead gorgeous man who likes to work with
his hands, holds a secret that might scare someone, and really,
really
,
likes table tops for certain activities. Enough said.

Dedication

To
Kelly Mueller. Thank you for being my Pack Beta. You rock chica.

Acknowledgments

This
is a new series for me so I always need to talk it out with my crit partner and
best friend, Lia Davis. Thanks for loving Jordan. She’s the first heroine we
had that we both went, ‘wow’, for. So thank you for being by my side for all of
this. Devin, Donna, and Tamara, thanks for reading through and helping Charmed
Spirits find a home. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks Scott, again,
for a wonderful cover. And thank you Hubby for supporting me when I said, “Hey,
I want to write a romance about a witch. Okay?”

As
always, a thank you to my readers. You guys are the reason I get to do this. So
thank you. I love hearing from you and really, your letters always perk me up.

Chapter 1

“The
road to salvation is found through cleansing your heart and finding the right
path. Turn your back on those with wicked ways.”

Jordan
Cross switched off the radio in her ’68 Mustang.

“Really?
They’re still preaching that garbage? It’s 2012 for freak’s sake,” she mumbled to
herself, and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

She
came up to a sign and rolled her eyes at the message.

“Yeah,
sure.
Welcome to Holiday, Montana
. Right. Like that would ever happen.
And, Jordan, you really need to quit talking to yourself or they’ll think
you’re crazier than they already do.”

On
second thought, maybe adding new quirks to her repertoire would enhance her
wickedness. She smiled and took a sip of her Coke, her gaze on the empty road
ahead of her. She practiced her cackle and looked out on the barren hills and
plains of Holiday, Montana.

Okay,
so it wasn’t barren. She just hated it so much she wanted it to be barren so it
would reflect that. Trees reached to the sky, their fall colors reminiscent of
a harvest sunset. Deep greens, burnt oranges, and crisp apple reds dotted the tree
line. Mountains carved through the skyline, towering over the valleys beneath
them. Rivers and streams cut through the rolling meadows and beautiful
clearings creating a freaking stunning landscape. Any second now Bambi would
frolic through.

She
knew she needed to stop the bitter attitude. After all, her life’s work—well,
the one she hid from peering eyes—depended on nature and all its bounty. Still,
that didn’t mean she had to like the fact she’d returned to Holiday.

“I’m
back.”

She
rolled her eyes and squinted until she saw the first building. Ah, downtown
Holiday. Still as adventurous as ever. With the ten buildings on Main Street,
it was a regular old metropolis. She already missed take-out and late-night
movies. No matter, she’d only be here for a few weeks. Two months tops. Then
she’d drive off like a bat out of hell—again.

Jordan
let out a sigh and forced herself not to turn around and step on the gas and
run. No, not race away exactly; just strategically not be anywhere near the
place that had stolen so much of her life. She’d lived in Holiday for eighteen
years, five with her folks before they’d crashed their plane into the side of a
mountain, the rest with her grandmother who doted on her with sharp-as-glass type
of love.

A
pang shocked her heart, and she bit her lip. She couldn’t think about that now
or the fact that the only reason she was even here was because her grandmother
was gone. She’d been overseas at an event for her old employer and hadn’t even
known her grandmother was sick. In fact, she hadn’t spoken with her in years.
Not since the last fight that had torn them apart. Jordan hadn’t wanted to
return to find her legacy, but her grandmother had wanted her by her side. It
was only because of a lost phone message that Jordan had even heard that her
grandmother had passed away. She’d missed the funeral and all the arrangements.
Thankfully, her grandmother’s friends, the Coopers, had taken care of
everything.

Now
Jordan was left to clean an old, abandoned house and sell it in a small town where
all the citizens hated her. She blinked back the tears she refused to shed and
pulled into a parking spot in front of the general store—not a Walmart in
sight. The town looked as though it had a modern tilt meshed with an early
twentieth century flair—with the small-town attitude that came with it.

Jordan
turned off the car, the dull hum of her engine quieting. People milled past, casting
curious looks her way.

They
all gave her a look that reflected the same thing: ‘Who is that stranger?’ A
look of recognition soon followed, and a look of contempt replaced curiosity.

Hmph.
If they looked beneath the surface, they’d see the girl they’d kicked and poked
until she ran. They’d see the girl who’d tried to stand tall but hid behind the
brown-haired boy who loved her.

She
cursed and got out of the car. Already, the memories of why she’d left assaulted
her. How was she supposed to make it through a couple months? She grabbed her
purse, slammed the car door, and walked into the General Store.

Old
Mr. Clancy stood behind the counter, a smile on his face and a story on his
lips. God, some things never changed. When she was young, and when Matt hadn’t
been around, he’d sneak her bubble gum or Tootsie Pops when the other kids had
teased her.

Matt.

She
closed her eyes and fought to breathe. He couldn’t be on her thoughts; she
wouldn’t let him. Yes, he still lived here, but for all she knew, he was
happily married with his three point five babies and a puppy. He, above all others,
deserved that.

Jordan
took a deep breath and grabbed a pack of gum and a Coke. She really didn’t need
anything, but if there was one way to announce her presence, it was to show up
at town central and wait for the busybodies to do their jobs—whispering through
the grapevine to announce her presence. She could have shown up with a bang,
maybe on a broomstick or something, just to live up to her name. But witches
didn’t fly… Well, at least not in her case.

Jordan
Cross might be a witch, but she wasn’t a pointy-hat-wearing, card-carrying
member of the green-skinned race. Nope, she was just a normal woman with a few extraordinary
talents.

Those
talents had scared the hell out of the bigoted townsfolk and caused her to run
like a frightened little girl. Energy pooled within her, and she inhaled again,
calming herself. The last thing she needed was to welcome her townsfolk with a
display of magic.

At
least not yet.

She’d
keep that up her sleeve, just in case.

Jordan
perused the aisles, waiting for someone to notice her and, if she were honest
with herself, procrastinating about going home—no, her grandmother’s home. If
just going down Main Street had made the memories so fresh they were like
gaping wounds, she couldn’t imagine seeing the two-story cabin. People strolled
in and out of the store, not paying attention to her.

“Did
you hear about last night?” A woman in her mid-fifties who Jordan didn’t recognize
was talking to Mr. Clancy.

The
shop owner nodded, his eyes bright under bushy white eyebrows.  “Another
sighting.”

Jordan’s
interest perked up, and she dragged her fingers over a bag of M&M’s, trying
to look nonchalant. A spy she would never be, but she could try.

“This
time it was by Betty across the street. She swore she heard chains!”

Mr.
Clancy let out a bellow of a laugh. “Really? So, this is Jacob Marley, now?”

The
lady sniffed but smiled. “Who knows what Betty saw? But I think something
should be done about the old Marlow place. Kids are forever trying to break in
and damage things. I know we don’t want to tear or burn it down because it’s been
deemed historical, but it’s dilapidated and a menace to this town.”

“Ah,
now, Mrs. Jacobs, don’t think that. That place has history. It just happens to
have a ghost.”

“But
really, we would be much better off without that eyesore, we should just burn
the thing down. We have enough historical things around town as it is.”

The
old man shook his head. “You really need to stop thinking that way. We can’t do
it.”

Jordan
started and almost dropped her gum. Had she heard right? A ghost in Holiday?
Oh, that was rich. The town that had kicked her out for being a witch wanted to
burn down a house because they thought it held a ghost in it.

She
shook her head and walked toward Mr. Clancy to check out. She’d seen a few
ghosts in her time, but they’d been harmless, just pale shells of their former
selves who couldn’t let go. Not a reason to tear down a building. Maybe she’d
check out the old Marlow place while she was here. It would give her something
to do other than bury herself in memories and avoid Matt.

“Jordan?”

Jordan
dropped her gum and unopened Coke, the can rolling to the booted foot of the
man with the voice that haunted her dreams.

She
raised her head, unable to speak, as he picked up the can. He had the same
brown hair with honeyed streaks. It was longer now in the front than it had
been when they were younger. Perfect for her fingers—no, she couldn’t think
that. His blue eyes looked even sexier with his aged face, not old, but not an
eighteen-year old boy either. No, this was a thirty-year-old man with the hard
body to prove it.

She straightened
her shoulders and met his dumbfounded gaze head-on. “Matt.”

“You’re
back.”

She
gave a wry smile, pushing down the urge to throw herself into his arms or run
from the crowd that had gathered around them.

“Looks
like it.”

He
held out his hand, and she grabbed her Coke, careful not to let their skin
touch. Even after all these years, she didn’t think she’d be able to handle
that.

“I
was sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Matt said, his sympathy reflected in
his eyes.