Maggie Russell—legal assistant by day, horror writer by night—gets the scare of her life when she wakes up in a strange café without any idea of how she got there. But if she tells anyone about her sleepwalking escapades, she could lose her grandmother’s house, and she’d fought so hard to keep it.

Dean Parker is a private investigator whose office is next door to Maggie’s law firm. He’s been eyeing the pretty brunette ever since she started working there, but getting involved with anyone isn’t in his game plan. When he finds out she’s been having sleeping problems, he suspects her money-grubbing cousin is involved. Instead, he discovers something worse: a ghost is living with Maggie and it appears another may be possessing her.

Dean is determined to help Maggie rid her home of the uninvited guests. He just never figured his attraction to her would be reciprocated. Keeping his distance is no longer an option, though. If he fails, Maggie could very well be possessed forever.

ReViews

 

Chapter 1

Something poked Maggie in her shoulder and she swatted it away. Time to have a serious talk with her cousin about boundaries, and if that didn’t work, she would finally install a lock on her bedroom door.

“Ma’am, wake up. You have to go.”

Ma’am? That didn’t sound like Erica because, well, Erica wasn’t a guy. So what was a guy doing in her bedroom? Maggie bolted upright and blinked as the bright room came into focus. Better question: Where was her bedroom?

Keep calm. Keep calm. You’ve just been sleepwalking. Again.

The mantra did nothing to keep her heart from racing. Probably because every other time it had happened she’d woken up at home. Not at some strange café.

Dirty dishes littered the table before her. God. She was eating in her sleep now? Should she be thankful she wasn’t wearing her pajamas? She apparently had the sleep-sense to put on a sweater and jeans.

The person who’d poked her was actually a waiter, and a young one at that. He couldn’t be more than twenty. “Here’s the check. I have to close up.”

“What day is it?”

“It’s seven. We’re closing.”

She grabbed his arm. “Not time. Day. Day!”

His eyes widened and he shrugged free. “Sunday?”

“Sunday?” No. No-no-no. That couldn’t be. She’d lost two days. Two freakin’ days! Who sleepwalked for two days?

“Are you okay?” he asked, taking several steps backward.

She was far from okay, but spooking the waiter wouldn’t improve her situation. “Sorry, I got confused.” Maggie scooted away from the table and found her purse on the floor. Thank God she had her wallet, and money. She paid the young man and stood on unsteady legs. “Can I use the restroom before I go?”

He nodded while he bused the table. “Just be quick. I want to go home.”

Home. That sounded good. But how far was she? Her eyes scratched with each blink and she practically stumbled to the ladies’ room. Why was she so tired? If she’d been sleepwalking, wouldn’t she be rested? She splashed cold water on her face but instead of shocking her awake, it only made her shiver. Great.

She pulled out her phone. Maybe it would show where in the world she had ended up. She pushed the on button and was faced with a blank screen. She shook it as if it would do any good. Dead. Figured. Now she’d have to make a bigger ass out of herself and ask that waiter where she was. He probably already thought she was high on something.

At least she didn’t look high. Tired, definitely, but not high or drunk. She ran a brush through her hair and headed back to the dining room.

Had she driven over here? If she had, she certainly wasn’t in any condition to drive home, even if she lived close. God, she hadn’t left town, had she?

“What street is that?” she asked the waiter, praying for a familiar name.

“North Dixie?” he answered, as if she should know.

She sighed in relief. Local. Finally, some good news. “May I use your phone? Mine died.”

The request did not sit well with the young man as he rolled his eyes, but he showed her the phone by the register. “Just be—”

“Quick. I know,” she finished. “I will.” She found her cousin’s business card—and it was a good thing she had it; she wasn’t sure she’d remember the number in her current state—when she spotted the number to a cab company written on a piece of paper attached to the register. Erica would want some answers. The cabbie, not so much. Maggie called the cab company. The address to the café was listed on the menu and she gave it to the dispatcher.

After hanging up, she found a five in her wallet and handed it to the waiter. “Sorry for being a bother.”

“No bother.” He shrugged but took the money. “Kind of surprised the guy left you like that anyway.”

Guy? Oh great. Not only was she having strange meals in strange cafés, she was having them with a guy now. Asking for a description was tempting. So…so…tempting. But who didn’t remember their dining mate? Or what day it was?

Clearly, she was suffering from more than sleepwalking. Could dementia hit early? Grandma had been a little whacky at times, but she’d been old. Not twenty-eight.

Maggie stepped outside and was hit with a blast of frigid, February air. Before she had a chance to wonder if she’d brought a jacket, the waiter tapped her shoulder and held out her coat.
“I think you forgot this.”

At least her crazy mind had remembered to dress warmly before leaving the house. “Thanks.”

The young man shut the door and locked her out. Guess he wasn’t too worried about her well-being after all. Not that she was in a horrible part of town. Wasn’t exactly pristine, either.

A couple of motels littered the street. Unknown, unbranded, and certainly nothing she would feel safe in. She leaned up against the brick building and did her best not to slump to the ground.

She pulled out her keys and pressed the panic button on her fob. All was quiet, which meant her car wasn’t parked close by. She looked to the sky. “God, please let it be at home.” She could only imagine what she would tell the police if by some chance it wasn’t.

Twenty minutes later, the cab arrived. So much for speedy pickup. She climbed into the warm vehicle and gave the driver her address. Weariness settled over her, and she leaned her head back.

Her house was a welcome sight. She paid the driver and stumbled to her front door. All she had to do was make it to her bed. If she was lucky, Erica was out on a date and wouldn’t notice Maggie’s arrival until morning.

As she fumbled with the key in the lock, the door swung open.

“Oh my God!” Erica wrapped Maggie up in a bear hug. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

Maggie offered a weak smile. Should have called her cousin and saved the cab fare, since it seemed she was answering questions tonight after all. But not the truth, because the truth was she didn’t know where she’d been, and if she admitted that, Erica would probably whisk her straight to the hospital. And then all the work she’d gone through would be for nothing.

She couldn’t—wouldn’t let that happen.