The Candlewood Wraith

Description

The Candlewood Wraith – Mychael Black

Two hundred years ago, Noah Cunningham watched in horror as his secret lover’s new wife dripped blood on his door step and cursed him for eternity. When Sam Locke stumbles onto a rain-soaked Border Collie, he takes the dog home. She is the catalyst that leads him to the one place he didn’t know still existed… and the one person he never thought he’d see again.

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EXCERPT:

1810

Candlewood, Tennessee

My dearest Noah,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you. Father has chosen my bride, but you will not be pleased. We are to be married soon. You will always own my heart, though we can never meet again, nor speak of our love.

Yours forever,

Samuel

Noah Cunningham crumpled the month-old battered paper in his fist and stared into the hearth fire. He no longer knew how many times he had read the letter, and Samuel’s words echoed in his mind a week after the marriage. Noah had known this time would come. They both had. Yet he had not prepared himself for it.

His beloved Samuel.

Noah tossed the missive into the flames and watched it burn. It had been one week since the wedding, but it felt like a lifetime.

Our love.

The words tasted like ash in Noah’s mouth. Had Samuel married a decent woman, perhaps the pain would have been bearable. There had been two possibilities for a bride, however, and Samuel’s letter had confirmed Noah’s fears. The new Mrs. Samuel Locke was a shrew who despised Noah’s very existence. Noah bore no love for her either.

Thunder shook the timber-and-stone house to its foundation. Noah did his best to ignore the storm raging outside his home. The weather seemed fitting for his current. Wind battered the windows, and rain pelted the roof. When the front door blew open, his dog, Elsa, whined. Noah reached down to pet her and stood. He started to turn but froze when he heard scratching, like claws on wood. His heart in his throat, he faced the front of the house. Apprehension crawled up his spine as he approached the entry hall, cautious.

A robed, hooded figure rose from where it had been crouched before Noah’s door. Wind whipped the cloak on the figure’s back, but the hood did not move. Rain drenched the poor sod, but the person did not seem to care.

“Who are you?” Noah shouted over the tempest raging outside.

Lightning flash, illuminating a woman’s face. Noah stared into Mary Bishop’s crazed eyes. The woman seemed to look right through him.

“Mary?”

“You stole him from me.”