How To Bring Your Love Life Back From The Dead by Wendy Sparrow Read Free Book Online Page A

light to see by, but not enough to dispel
the shadows that seemed to move in her periphery, and it cast an
eerie blue tint on everything.
    She and Jenny had discussed
researching the spooky history of old buildings in the area. Jenny
was hoping for ghosts. Hah! Like Seaside had any ghosts. It had
been much funnier before Ana stepped inside one of the oldest
buildings in the city.
    It was not haunted.
    She didn’t believe in
ghosts.
    At all.
    She refocused on the book in front
of her. This was the best time for research. The very best time.
Concentrate. She rolled her eyes. She’d read the same sentence in
the book five times. Five times. She was in her twenties—not teens.
And she most definitely didn’t believe in ghosts. Putting her
finger under the small print, she wedged it into her memory this
time. She was going to remember that one statistic from the Civil
War if it killed her.
    The floorboard in the book stacks
creaked again. She ignored it. This was how rumors started after
all. Someone heard a noise in an old building, which had a backroom
that few visited, and it had to be a ghost. There was no logical
explanation after all. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shook
her head. She could do this. Being the great, great granddaughter
of one of the original patrons was only good for so many nights
after-hours. She couldn’t jump at shadows.
    She needed to get the information
and get back to writing the dialogue for Jenny’s Haunted History
tour. Jenny wanted “juicy” stories for it. As Ana was a co-owner in
“Living History Tours” and much better at research, not to mention
she had the Franklin family connections, she was the logical choice
to be here.
    Logical—as in a decision not based
on emotions or fear…or a creaking floorboard that had just creaked
again.
    Pushing to her feet, she strode
through the small room to the stacks where the noise was coming
from. “Ana, you’re being ridiculous. This is stupid and silly and
irrational.” And she turned the corner in time to see a vapory form
of a man look up from a book he was reading and regard her with one
raised eyebrow. Was it just her—or was everything all warm and
tight and black?
    Ana fell in a faint that the ghost
of Shane Blythe dove to catch.
    *****
    Well, that was unlucky. It had been
decades since someone could see Shane unless he wished it, and the
library closed long before he stretched out his ghostly legs to
tour the room. He’d grown careless about his late night wandering
in the deserted library’s back room. All the creaking of the
floorboards must have been from her, not the settling of the
building as he’d supposed. Damn.
    She was quite a fetching little
thing. Maybe he wasn’t so unlucky after all. He caught her in his
arms, managing enough corporeal strength pushed out for the ten
seconds it took to catch her and lay her down. Most nights, he only
used his energy to look through books, not catch beautiful,
fainting redheads who appeared out of nowhere.
    If he vanished, she’d assume that
she’d just mistaken her eyes. She’d go on with her life…grow old,
die, go on to the place most spirits went. So, sitting down—as he
was—really made less than no sense at all. Using his dwindling
energy to brush his thumb across her lower lip was ridiculous.
Leaning down to kiss her mouth was ungentlemanly in the extreme. On
the other hand, Shane Alexander Blythe had never been a gentleman
in his entire thirty years of life, so why start in his
death?
    *****
    A cold frost brushed her mouth,
tickling it. Ana licked her lips, savoring the feel of soft, cold
snowflakes on her mouth. She was lying on the ground and snow was
only falling on her. The cold tasted tart like apple cider, and she
opened her mouth to taste more. More snow brushed her lips and
caressed her tongue. Mmm. Never had the cold felt so warm and
stroked her insides with fire. Desire twisted and curled and made
her squirm.
    “Mmm,” she moaned. It felt like
kissing