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Excerpt for The Secret, Book 1 in Haunted Depot: The Ghost Curse by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

The Secret
Book 1 in Haunted Depot: The Ghost Curse



Kristy K. James
(originally as J.J. Belding)





Copyright © 2017 Kristy K. James (aka J.J. Belding)

All rights reserved.





I would like to dedicate this book to Kathie who, once again, has spent countless hours helping me to make yet another story the best it can be.





Dear Friend,

Consider this your welcome to Hemisphere. You might think your presence here is an accident. Maybe you believe you just stumbled onto our website, liked what you saw, and decided to check us out. Or that you simply found yourself here while on a leisurely drive.

Well, you'd be wrong.

It was fate.

Yes, you're here because fate led you here. Because you are meant to be here. Why? That remains to be seen. Maybe you'll wind up calling Hemisphere your home. Maybe we're just a stop in the road on your way to somewhere else. Maybe you'll remember your time with us. Most do not.

One thing is for sure though, you’ll never find another place like Hemisphere. It's one-of-a-kind.

Hemisphere is a unique location, steeped in mysticism. All are welcome within our boundaries. We'd like to tell you there's a simple explanation for the things you may see or experience during your stay. A little theatrical drama, if you will. But it wouldn't be true. Here in Hemisphere, the things that go bump in the night are very real.

If you decide to stay past sundown, we encourage you to read the Visitors Orientation Packet. The warning about "calamity or death by misadventure?" It's not a joke.

It would behoove you to follow the advice inside. We also suggest traveling in groups, or hiring a local “guide” to show you around our beautiful town.

Common sense should tell you to use caution when hiking in any unfamiliar area. The forests and cliffs surrounding Hemisphere are beautiful. They are also home to a variety of wild creatures found nowhere else on earth. Don’t be caught unaware. It should go without saying – stay out of the woods and off the cliffs after dark.

Again, welcome to Hemisphere. Fate has led you to our area. What happens next is up to you. Choose wisely.











Part 1


"I wish there was an easier way to tell you this-"

The deep voice on the line was filled with reluctance and Kate Proctor knew she didn't want to know the reason for his call. She was tempted to hang up before the horrible, life changing words could be uttered but her hand seemed to be frozen to the phone which, in turn, seemed to be glued to her ear.

"Your grandfather was murdered this morning."

She heard a buzzing in her ears as she gripped the phone tighter. Her skin prickled and her stomach roiled as she tried to take in the news she'd just heard. News she hadn't expected. News she'd known would hurt beyond anything she'd ever known.

But she hadn't expected it to be this. Not murdered. Not him.

There were more words – no witnesses, no clues, still searching – but they just jumbled together in her head. The only ones that had been said, the only ones that mattered, had just stolen the last bit of security in her life, leaving her heart and her world shattered.

She didn't feel the tears sting her eyes before they were rolling down her cheeks and dripping silently onto the front of the white blouse she'd put on that morning.

Her mind was too busy trying to deny what she'd just heard to be aware of anything else. It was a lie. Or some kind of sick joke. It had to be. He couldn't be dead. She needed him. He was all she really had so it couldn't true.

But the question wouldn't be stopped. It came rolling out of her mouth as if propelled. As if she believed the horrible news. A single word, whispered and shaking, refused to be stopped.

"How?" An uncomfortable silence followed before she heard the voice again.

"He was at the old train station. Someone hit him on the back of the head with a brick."

The words were gentle as though he hadn't wanted to tell her. She hadn't wanted to know either but it needed to be said. To get the worst over all at once so she could begin to process everything. To figure out what needed to be done next.

"Did he-"

"Did he suffer? No. The coroner said it would have been instant. He wouldn't have felt a thing."

She hoped so. Oh, God, she hoped so. The thought of him feeling that kind of pain, knowing what happened, lying in the gravel and weeds on the old, overgrown parking lot, bleeding to death and unable to call for help… Alone… Kate couldn't bear the thought.

"He'll be moved to Belton's Funeral Home in the morning. Is there anything I can tell them for you? Anything you'd like them to know before they start – preparing his body?"

"No. No. I'll be there by the time they open. I'll take care of it." Blessed numbness began to set in then and she hoped it wouldn't desert her anytime soon.

"Miss Proctor?"

"Yes?"

"I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

She wasn't sure why she thanked him. It wasn’t like he'd called to tell her anything good. But it wasn't his fault. Someone had to make the call and he'd probably drawn the short straw at the station. Besides, decorum dictated she show appreciation for his kindness.

For several long moments, she just stood at her kitchen counter, her fingers wrapped around the phone so tight her fingers ached.

She stared at the takeout container she'd brought home from work. Tender slices of beef with roasted potatoes and carrots and a made-from-scratch roll with real butter. The aroma had filled her small car and all the way home, her stomach grumbled in anticipation of the feast she'd soon enjoy. Now, she knew if she took even one bite, she'd throw up. Feeling only the tiniest twinge of regret, she dumped it all down the disposal.

A quick search on her phone showed Belton's opened at nine, nearly fourteen hours away. That left her with six hours to kill before she needed to leave. Six hours to stay busy enough so she couldn't think too much.

First on the agenda would be to let her boss know she needed a few days, and then to pack a couple of suitcases. Then, maybe, she'd put some music on and try to get a couple hours' rest. Sleep would be impossible but just closing her eyes might help. It had to because the only way to avoid arriving in Hemisphere before sunrise would be to leave at one in the morning and drive through the night.


~~~~~


"Come on, Katie, get a move on," Merle Proctor called from the bottom of the stairs in the foyer of the old house he and Cora bought immediately after their honeymoon back in '69. Hard to believe it had been more than a quarter of a century ago. "We're wasting daylight, girl."

He waited patiently for his six year old granddaughter to finish getting ready for their morning's adventure. Cora was probably braiding her hair. Much as his wife loved to ramble around the old depot with him, she wasn't quite as fond of having a little girl playing around in the dirt and cobwebs. So keeping the long dark blonde hair in a single tight braid was high on her list of priorities. He wasn't sure why because the braid could hold its fair share of dirt and creepy crawlies – and they both knew this from experience.

"I'm ready, Grampa! Let's go!" Katie exclaimed, coming to a breathless stop at the top of the stairs.

In less time than it took him to blink, she was bounding down them and leaping into his arms. Merle spun her around a few times before he set her on the floor, holding on long enough to make sure she wasn't dizzy. Calling up to his wife, he told her, "We'll be back in time for lunch. Love you!"

"Love you, Gramma!"

"I love both of you too," Cora said, leaning over the railing to look down at them. A gentle smile curved her lips. "Be good, stay out of trouble, and don't be late. I'm making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup."

"Oh yum!" Katie said, tugging Merle's hand. "Let's go so we're not late! I love grilled cheese." Technically, she loved anything with cheese.

He laughed as she pulled him toward the front door, glancing up at him with an expression both excited and impatient. Clad in navy corduroy overalls and a white turtleneck sweater, his heart felt like the Grinch's when it grew three sizes. Of course, his heart grew a hundred sizes every time he looked at her. By now, he figured, it should cover two thirds of the earth. How it managed to stay contained in his chest was just one of life's mysteries.

It wasn't long before they were heading down the sidewalk for the seven block walk. He had one hand wrapped around her tiny one and the other around the handles of a picnic basket. Cora always allowed for a snack midway between breakfast and lunch. She always packed a thermos of homemade lemonade to go with it too. Today, thanks to the cupcakes her grandmother whipped up at the crack of dawn, that particular beverage was going pack some serious pucker power.

Katie didn't know it yet but this was a special day. The basket was filled with cakes because, most of them were for his friends. She'd only be meeting one of them though.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too many years before she understood the significance of what she was about to learn. That one day, the depot – and everything and everyone in it – would be her responsibility. For now, his hope was that she'd just think he was sharing a fun secret.

He was going to tell her about the ghosts who haunted the depot. The ghosts he'd befriended twenty-eight years before.




Part 2


"Gramma makes the best cupcakes," Katie said, the reverence for Cora's baking skills in her tone making Merle smile. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side.

"Yes she does. But let's wait a few minutes before we have them, okay?" She nodded slowly, trying to hide her disappointment. He wouldn't make her wait too long but since she'd given him as good an opening as he was ever going to get, he might as well take advantage of it. "You know who else likes Grandma's cupcakes? And her cookies, pies, and everything else she makes? Well, everything except her liver and lima beans." Katie giggled, shaking her head because she didn't like liver and lima beans either.

"You?" she asked and he chuckled.

"Yes, ma'am, I do. But there's someone else."

"Who, Grampa?" She looked up at him, her blue eyes trusting and patient as she waited for his answer.

"My best friend."

"You have a friend, Grampa?" He laughed again at the surprise in her voice.

"Don't sound so shocked, sweetheart. I'm pretty nice, you know."

"Who is your friend?"

"His name is Ezra and he's a pretty cool guy."

"Why?"

"Well, partly because when I was twenty-one, he saved me from some bad men." He and Ezra always figured it was some of George's descendants looking for the gold.

"There were bad men who didn't like you?" she demanded with all of the righteous anger a kindergarten graduate could work up.

"Nope. They didn't like me even a little bit. And one day, when I was looking around the depot, they showed up and they started slugging me. They'd only gotten a couple of licks in when Ezra showed up and scared them off." Boy had he! He'd almost scared Merle off too.

"I like Ezra," she said simply, prepared to accept anyone who protected her beloved 'grampa.' "How did he scare them? With a stick?"

"Nope. Better than that. And I'm going to tell you a secret. You can keep a secret better than anyone, can't you?" Katie nodded her head vigorously. "Ezra is a hundred and twenty-one years old." Now it was her turn to laugh and Merle hugged her closer as he gazed at the delighted expression on her face. She thought he was telling a story. Well, he was. This one just happened to be true.

"Nobody's that old, Grampa!"

"Nobody like us, that's for sure. But I told you, he's special, right?"

"Yup."

"There's another reason and this one is what makes him really, really special," he said, his voice low as he leaned down near her ear.

"What?" she whispered, leaning closer to him too, her blue eyes wide in anticipation.

"Ezra is a ghost." For a moment, she looked like she might be getting scared and he said quickly, "He's the nicest ghost I've ever known."

"A nice ghost?" Her little nose wrinkled up and it was clear she was a skeptic. He couldn't blame her. Merle hadn't believed it at first either.

"He sure is. Only a nice ghost would save a human and then look out for him for the rest of his life. And Ezra has looked out for me ever since that day. He looks out for you and Grandma too. He helps keep you safe because I love you both so much."

"Oh my goodness," Katie breathed, her eyes wide as saucers now. "He can see us?"

"Yes, he can."

She mulled over everything he'd told her so far then asked, "How'd he get to be a ghost?"

"I was curious about that too. He just appeared out of nowhere when Kevin and his friends showed up. We were right over there." He pointed to the middle of the parking lot. "There were no trees or buildings for anyone to hide behind but suddenly, there he was. So I asked him how he'd gotten he'd to me so fast. Much to my surprise, he blurted right out that he was a ghost. And then he told me the wildest story…"


~~~~~


Ezra Hutchinson could feel the sun beating down on his back as he hunched close over the neck of his horse. The wind whipped his hair, his shirt, and the kerchief he wore over the lower half of his face.

Behind him, he could hear gunfire and almost laughed. He was too far ahead of them now for any of the bullets to hit their mark – him – but it didn't stop them from trying. From wasting their ammunition. So he just kept riding Storm hard, hoping the surprise posse would give up and turn back once he reached the forest.

If they didn't, there was a small river about a mile in. He could travel upstream a good piece, come back out on the same side and make tracks for Hemisphere. The town's reputation kept a lot of folks away and if he was lucky, maybe these men would turn back when they realized where he was going. If not, he'd send Storm on his way when they reached the city limits and he'd walk in on foot.

The horse had an uncanny knack for finding his way home – and for disappearing when he didn't want to be found so he'd be safe enough. Ezra would lie low at the rundown hotel near the depot until George caught up with him. When he did, there was going to be hell to pay.

The deal had always been no shooting people. Not even if they had guns, and most of them did. Robbery was one thing, murder was another entirely and something he wanted to steer clear of. But he'd bet all of the gold in his saddlebags that the guard was dead, thanks to his partner's itchy trigger finger. If they were caught, no judge in the territory was going to care who put the bullet in his chest. They'd both robbed the stagecoach and they'd both be swinging from a rope for both crimes.

Ezra wasn't going to hang. Not for George. After today, they were parting ways. In fact, he was done with the robbing too. And he wasn't giving up any of the gold either. As soon as he got to town, he knew the perfect place to hide it. George welched on their agreement so he figured he could too.

Three hours later, holed up in a dingy little room at the Hemisphere Hotel, Ezra waited, trying to relax on the too soft mattress. Part of him hoped the other half of the posse had gotten close enough to George to kill him. It would be fair retribution for what he'd done to the guard. It would also put a swift and stress free end to their partnership.

He could grab the gold in the morning, buy a ticket for the first train out of town, and go anywhere he pleased. His sister and her husband would look after Storm so he didn't have to worry about that.

But of course, it couldn't be that easy. George showed up just before supper and the argument that ensued might have gone down in history books. Fortunately, they'd learned long ago to fight quietly.

"I want my half now,” George demanded, grabbing a handful of Ezra's shirt and pulling him nose to nose.

"No. I'm going to need every cent to make a new life for myself because I'm not going to be hunted down for murder. You killed the guard, George. Not me."

"I want it now."

This time, the words were spoken in a low, normal tone of voice as George put the cold barrel of his gun against Ezra's temple. Ezra swallowed hard. He hadn't expected this reaction though it didn't really surprise him.

"No. I hid it. And you'll never find it if you kill me." He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. Under the present circumstances, confidence was a little hard to come by.

"Oh, you'll tell me. First, I'll shoot both your knees. Then I'll go for your shoulders. And if you're still too stupid to give in, I'll start shooting your fingers off. So what's it going to be, Ezra? Tell me now or tell me later."

"Fine. It's in the well. But I want my half. I earned it."

"You earned this, partner."

George shoved him away a split second before he aimed the gun at the center of Ezra's chest. Ezra heard the blast and felt the force of the impact knock him back against the wall. As his ears registered footsteps pounding down the hall, he slid down to the floor. Sitting there, leaning against the dresser, he finally felt the burning pain.

He'd always known there was a chance he might die when they pulled a job. But they were good at what they did and so he'd never worried about it. He hadn't worried about it this morning either. Now he wished he had. Maybe if he'd nurtured a sense of self-preservation, he might not be watching as the blood spurting from the wound spreading in an ever growing stain in the fabric of his shirt.

His strength was fading fast. With what little was left, he laughed, then choked on the thick liquid bubbling up in his throat. He felt its warmth as it oozed out of the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin.

Hemisphere was a thriving town. Someday, this building would be torn down to make way for progress and someone was going to find a pair of saddlebags – bulging with gold pieces – under the seventh stair leading to the attic.

In more desperate times, he'd done some repairs here. Anticipating a life of crime, he'd taken that one small precaution.

As he breathed what he knew was his final breath, Ezra smiled, grateful that one brief instance of foresight would ensure George didn't get a cent of this haul.




Part 3


Merle didn't go into the gruesome details, just explained to Katie how Ezra was a reformed thief – and a cowboy. She was far more impressed with the fact that her grandfather's friend had ridden horses than she was appalled that he'd robbed stagecoaches. And that was good. He didn't want her to be afraid of him.

"He's been here a long time. Why doesn't he leave?" she asked after taking a long drink of the cold lemonade he'd poured into her favorite cartoon character cup.

"As near as we can tell, there's some sort of spell on the depot, the buildings, and land around it. If someone is killed here, they can only be like real people if they stay on the property. If they leave, they're invisible."

"So only you can see Ezra?"

"Well, no. You can too. Would you like to?"

He watched as Katie weighed her options. Should she believe the grandfather she trusted, take him up on his offer and meet a real live – or dead – ghost, or chicken out and tell him no. After nearly a minute, she came to a decision, nodding her head slowly. Merle bit back a smile because she was still on the fence about it. He knew she would rather he take back his question but she'd always been a curious girl and her need to know had gotten the best of her this morning.

"All right then. Want to hold my hand?"

"Yes, please." Instead of putting her hand in his though, she climbed up into his lap and pulled his arms around her, holding them tightly in place.

"It's okay. I promise," he whispered, then said in a normal tone, "Ezra, my granddaughter would like to make your acquaintance."

When he appeared, he was sitting cross-legged in front of them. Katie gasped in surprise, pressing closer against Merle's chest.

"Hello, Katie. I'm very pleased to meet you," Ezra said softly, holding out his hand for her to shake. Or not.

He was a gentle soul and Merle knew he wouldn't do anything to make her uncomfortable. For long, silent moments, they sat there, Katie staring in awe, and probably a little fear, at the ghost who looked much like any living human she'd ever seen. After another internal battle, she held out a trembling hand. Ezra took it, shaking it firmly.

"Thank you for your trust, Miss Proctor. I'll never let you down. You have my word.

They spent the next hour talking about the other ghosts. All but Hannah. Hannah was Plan B, in case this one turned out to be a bust. Merle hoped he wasn't playing a manipulation game with the child he loved like his own. He just knew if she gave them a chance, the ghosts would enrich her life as much as they had his parents, his grandparents, and his and Cora's lives.

And so they talked about many things. About how Cora kept them supplied with meals and snacks, and how Merle had introduced them to handheld video games. Katie giggled when Ezra confided that most of them had developed an instant addiction.

They told her about the way they could be visible on the depot property but when they left, they were invisible.

"You wouldn't believe how many movies we sneak into," Ezra told her, his tone conspiratorial.

"What if you get caught?" she whispered, eyes wide.

"They can't see us," he reminded her.

"But- But you can't have popcorn." She sounded so sad about that, Merle hugged her a little closer.

"Grandma and I make sure to bring them popcorn every week."

"You really can eat?" Obviously, she hadn't believed Merle when he said they loved Cora's cooking and both he and Ezra chuckled at her astonishment. To prove he could, indeed, eat, Ezra pulled a cupcake from the basket, peeled the paper off, and took a big bite of it, closing his eyes in ecstasy.

"Your grandma is the best baker in the world."

"Better than Mary Perkins?" she asked, quoting the brand name of a nationally known cake mix line. They laughed again.

"Even better than Mary Perkins," Ezra assured her, reaching out to ruffle her hair. Merle took it as a good sign when Katie didn't shrink away from him.

As they enjoyed the cupcakes, they told her about the other ghosts, mostly William Archer and Oscar Blake. Oscar killed William over a poker game and then a few months later, William killed Oscar. Now they were both stuck haunting the depot. Understandably, William didn't like Oscar at all. They described fights as pranks that had Katie laughing until tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Well, Cora's going to have my hide if I don't get this one home for lunch," Merle said with a sigh, finally calling a halt to the reminiscing.

"And I should get going," Ezra said, looking at him as if asking for a legitimate reason to go. Merle just shrugged because he couldn't come up with a pressing reason for a ghost to leave. It wasn't like Ezra had a job or an appointment or anything.

"Thanks for coming out to introduce yourself to my granddaughter."

"It was a pleasure." Ezra looked at the girl and smiled. "I've looked forward to meeting you for a long time, Katie. I'll see you again one day."

And with that, Ezra was gone, just as quickly as he'd come. Merle said he was going to finish his lemonade if Katie wanted to find some pretty stones to take home to her grandmother. With a grin, she nodded and jumped to her feet, running toward the best spot to find the stones she loved. The stones the ghosts made sure to hide in plain sight for her.

"I've planted the seed," he said softly, holding the cup in front of his mouth in case Katie looked back. He didn't want her to see him talking to himself. "We'll see how she handles this but at least she knows about you now. Make sure she's not afraid when the time comes and the property is hers."




Part 4


Katie didn't say much on the way home. He didn't either, just let what she'd learned sink in. One day, it would be important and hopefully, she'd carry on the family tradition of taking a bunch of ghosts under her wing. But that day wasn't today.

Part of him worried it might have been too much information too soon. That she was too young to really understand. But he also knew that the earlier a child came to accept something as normal, the better.

She was a smart girl, older than her age. Of course, she'd had no choice but to mature quicker than other kids. Just thinking about his idiot son and daughter-in-law was enough to make him see red. All they cared about was the next drunk or high. Their sweet, precious daughter didn't even rate on their sick list of priorities. All she was to them was their ticket for state aid.

That was the only reason they didn't let him and Cora have her for good. As long as they kept her in school, they qualified for welfare. That's all the value she was to them. Food stamps, rent, and utilities, most of which was blown on alcohol or drugs.

The first couple of years after Katie was born, they never stayed in one place long. Six months, if they were lucky, before one landlord or another kicked them out. If Merle hadn't threatened to turn them in to Children's Services for neglect, he shuddered to think of how little his granddaughter would have fared. Not that life had been good for her – with them – even then. She was so starved for love she thrived under his and Cora's care. And then they had to send her home.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, he thought sadly, as they rounded the last corner and headed for the house. If he'd just turned them in four years ago, the odds were better than good they wouldn't have to send Katie home after each vacation. But family courts didn't always do the right thing and grandparents sometimes lost the children they loved to the system. It was a risk he and Cora hadn't been willing to take.

Still, they had her for every school vacation, even if it was just a brief three or four day one. For the shorter ones, they would rent a hotel room instead of wasting sixteen precious hours on the road to get her to Hemisphere and back. For the longer ones, Christmas, Easter, and summer vacations though, they brought her home. All told, she was only with them about four months a year. It wasn't enough. And it wasn't fair. Not when they loved her more than her parents ever would.

"What's this?" Cora exclaimed, looking at a small pile of rocks in the palm of her hand. "Aren't these just the prettiest little gems I've ever seen? Thank you very much, Miss Katie."

Merle was so lost in thought he hadn't realized they'd arrived home, or that Katie had led him through the house and into the kitchen. When Cora glanced at him, her smile was still in place but there was a question in her eyes. Had he told her? He nodded once and watched her sigh. Like him, his wife had worried she might be too young. They both hoped she wasn't.

Those hopes were dashed that night.

Katie awoke screaming, thrashing around in her bed, hair plastered to her head from sweat. She was being chased by ghosts, she'd sobbed when she finally awoke, throwing herself into her grandmother's arms. They were watching her all of the time. They wanted to kill her.

For the first time in his life, Merle did something he'd never done before. He'd withheld the full truth from time to time, especially when it came to the ghosts, but he never lied outright. He did now.

It had all been a dream, he told her, stroking her hair as her small body convulsed from the violent sobs. There was no such thing as ghosts. Maybe it was something she'd watched on television. The kiddie cartoon with the cute ghost. Or maybe one of the posters around town for October's Fortnight of Fear Festival had frightened her. But it was okay. She was safe.

Cora finally had to lie down with her and eventually, Katie fell asleep in her arms. They decided it would be best if she just slept with her for the rest of the night – in case nightmares woke her again.

Merle headed back to their room, alone. Hindsight being what it was, he'd give almost anything to have a do-over. To change his mind and wait to tell her for another year or two. Now it would be up to Hannah because he was never going to risk scaring his granddaughter like this again.


~~~~~


Kate loaded two hastily packed bags in the backseat then made a quick trip back up to her apartment. There, she watered her plants and grabbed the thermos of strong coffee waiting on the counter. When she stopped to fill the gas tank, she'd pick up a couple of energy drinks, something she normally avoided. Tonight, though, she'd need plenty of caffeine to keep her buzzed for the eight hour trip.

As long as the numbness kept her in its safe cocoon, she should be fine to make the drive, even though she'd hadn't slept. Mostly she'd just closed her eyes, trying not to think because when she allowed the memories in, tears burned her eyes and she wasn't going to give in to the grief. Not yet. She couldn't. Not until she was back in Hemisphere. Not until she'd seen him. Not until she'd seen for herself that he was really gone.

That thought caused a lump to lodge in her throat and she swallowed hard to get rid of it.

Determined no more thoughts that could send her to pieces would be set free, Kate reached out, slid a CD into the stereo, and pressed play. Soon, the silence made way for Tim McGraw's Indian Outlaw. She cranked the volume up, her only goal for the night to lose herself in good country music and driving.

It wasn't long before she left the lights of the city behind her and she was steering onto the freeway and headed for the only place she'd ever really called home. The only place she'd ever found the love her parents had always denied her.

Hemisphere.






Thanks so much for reading The Secret, Book 1 in Haunted Depot: The Ghost Curse. I hope you enjoyed this sort of prequel to the series. And that you'll leave a review letting others know. Word of mouth not only helps readers who might love the story find it, but it also helps those who might not to pass it by.

And don't forget to sign up for the Hemisphere Orientation and New Resident's Packet (link on next page) to find out more insider secrets about our unique little town.

Keep reading for a free offer and news about new releases.

Thanks again,

Kristy



If you enjoyed this story set in the unique little town of Hemisphere, look for more by Kristy, along with her partners in crime fellow Hemisphere cohorts, Billy Baltimore, G Oldman, and Kit Nash.

Hang out with us on the following social media sites and find out about our current books, upcoming releases, and other news:
https://www.facebook.com/TheHemisphereUnderground/



You can find me – Kristy – here:

https://www.facebook.com/kristykjames
http://kristykjames.net/
https://twitter.com/KristyKJames






Other Works by Kristy K. James


Coach's Boys Series

The Daddy Pact, Book 1

A Hero for Holly, Book 2

A Harry Situation, Book 3

Her Best Friend Jon, Book 4

Code Red Christmas, Book 5

Darby's Dilemma, Book 6

The Detective's Second Chance, Book 7

Back to the Beginning, Book 8

Holding Out For Love, Coach's Boys Companion Story (should be read between books 6 & 7)

Cooking With the Coach's Boys


The Casteloria Royals Trilogy

A Prince on the Run, Book 1

The Physician to the King, Book 2

The Princess and the Bodyguard, Book 3


The Haunted Depot Series

The Secret, Book 1

The Depot, Book 2

A Merry Depot Christmas, Book 3


Men From the Double M Series

Josh, Book 1


Special Wishes Time Travel Romance

His Only Love

Her Long Road Home


Enza Series

Enza, Book 1


Other Fiction:

The Secret Admirer

Erin's Christmas Wish

A Fine Mess

The Ripple

Reluctant Guardian

Storytime Shorts, the First Collection





Stories by my Hemisphere cohorts:


Works by Billy Baltimore


Sasquatch: A Hemisphere Story (Emma Spaulding Paranormal Detective Book 1)
Djinn: A Hemisphere Story (Emma Spaulding Paranormal Detective

Book 2)

Works by G Oldman


The Rise of the Watchman: A Hemisphere Story
Peril in the Park: A Hemisphere Story: Book 2

Hessian House Brewery: A Hemisphere Story (A Hemisphere Story: Book 3)

Works by Kit Nash
Some Assembly Required: A Hemisphere Story (RECTIFIER Book 1)


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