Title: TO CATCH A FETCH
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Word Count: 90,000
Estate photographer Devyn Cartwright doesn't believe in ghosts—or love at first sight—until the night she stumbles into the arms of Ronan Evans, a ghost hunter on a mission to find the remaining fragments of a legendary amulet. Since meeting Ronan, Devyn’s entire world has flipped upside down, and answers are no longer clear…solutions no longer black and white. She wants to believe the man she has fallen in love with is sane, his stories of ghosts and legendary amulets true, but doing so also means she must accept he is right about her…and his belief she has paranormal abilities too.
From the moment he meets her, Ronan knows there is more to Devyn than meets the eye. He senses an aura about her, the kind one feels when near another person with paranormal abilities. If true, it’s his responsibility to recruit her for the Society. He decides more observation is needed, but admits that his decision is not altogether altruistic…after all it’s hard for him to be objective when other parts of him are, well, hard. When Ronan’s interest moves far beyond wanting Devyn for her body or her paranormal talent what follows is the biggest conundrum he has ever faced—how can he convince her to trust what she feels in her heart when she refuses to believe what she see with her eyes?
Smart, sexy, and a little spooky, TO CATCH A FETCH is The Ghost Whisperer meets The Black Dagger Brotherhood and recently placed first in the paranormal category of the RWA Heart of Denver's 2012 Molly Contest.
Devyn Cartwright stood on the porch steps of the abandoned Victorian house and inspected her future. Opportunity hadn't knocked, it had handed her the damn key. Now, as the last fragments of dusk died away, she clutched the home’s antique key in her hand, its engraved edges scraping the sensitive skin of her palm.
The heavy oak door opened on silent hinges that belied their age. Devyn stepped inside and heard the door snick closed behind her. She reached out to feel for a light switch along the foyer wall. Layers of thick shadows cloaked the rooms to her right and left, making it difficult to discern more than the most basic outlines of cloth-draped furnishings.
Lots of cloth-draped furnishings. Her pulse jumped. Some women went crazy for purses or shoes, but Devyn’s obsession was houses, specifically nineteenth-century homes and period furniture. The lure of an abandoned mansion was temptation enough, but the fact it was rumored to be stuffed to its rafters with authentic pieces made the house too good to resist. She had taken one look at the vintage key in her boss’s hand and canceled her last photo shoot of the day.
Maybe I should have asked a few more questions before hauling ass out here—like did the house have working utilities? Her fingers brushed against the rounded edges of a modern light switch and she sighed with relief.
Several futile flicks later she muttered her third favorite curse word.