A Ghost of a Chance
an excerpt

“What do you mean, who are we? Who are you?” Nera immediately countered. She didn’t have to get along with the man, after all, not when he was destined for her sister. Why Bianca was going to fall for the man, she had no idea, but if her sister wanted some advice, Nera would suggest running far away as fast as she could.

In reply to her question, the gentleman seemed to puff up with both indignation and pride.

“I am Viscount Aston and I live here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why am I explaining myself to you? Who are are you and what are you doing in here?”

Bianca stepped forward, from where she had been half-hidden behind a stack of books, and gave him a brilliant smile.

“My lord! I have heard so much about you!” She held out a hand and he took it, seemingly dazed by her beauty.

Not surprising, Nera thought. It happened to most men.

“Forgive the lack of formal introduction, my lord,” Bianca continued. “We are Bianca and Nera Morrow, and your grandmother brought us in to speak to your ghost.”

Nera watched closely and saw the man stiffen at the Morrow name. That figured. But he would overcome it, seeing as he was going to fall for her sister.

“There are no such things as ghosts,” he said.

Bianca laughed. “Yes, there are! I’ve counted at least three of them already this morning! But only one resides in here and needs assistance, so I will only deal with the other two if they approach me. None of them will do any harm, I assure you. Not even this one.”

“You call ruining my mother’s upcoming house party not harmful?”

“I do!” Bianca chortled. “No one has been hurt by these books. They are his way of gaining attention.”

“He, who?”

Bianca cocked her golden head to one side, as if listening to someone only she could see, and Nera waited, knowing her sister walked in two different worlds at the same time. It gave her a moment to study the viscount. Not that she hadn’t already, in her mind’s eye, but to do so up close was another thing altogether.

He was tall, that she already knew, and he was handsome, with dark wavy hair and deep, penetrating eyes. What she was now seeing in his features, however, was slightly different than her vision. He still appeared slightly sardonic, but there were few lines of dissipation. She was used to the aristocracy showing more signs of hard living. He was athletic, less soft than their usual clients. It was both refreshing in a way, considering he was going to marry her beloved sister, and also dangerous. Nera could like a man like this one, if he weren’t such an utter prat.