Free How To Bring Your Love Life Back From The Dead by Wendy Sparrow

Ana
would casually bring up the missing pages.
    Lara’s smile widened. “Isn’t it
fascinating to trace one’s roots?”
    Ana tried to manufacture a look of
fascination. “Err. Yes.” Her family had always stepped on the less
fortunate to get to where they were, and they showed around their
bank statements more than pictures of their kids,
but…sure.
    “Well, your family may have some of
their own books. I seem to remember your great, great grandfather’s
journals were withheld from the collection.”
    His journals? Those would probably
have missed this censorship wave that seemed to have wiped out all
records of Shane. She would definitely check into that.
    “Has this collection received any
newer additions—in regards to historical records?” Ana
asked.
    Lara’s calling was clearly meant to
be that of a librarian. She looked nearly giddy at the question. “I
think we did have something come in from an estate.” Analise
followed her to the local history section where Lara pulled out a
book. “It might be slightly salacious. It’s more about the town’s
dabbling in witchcraft and the occult—along with a few crimes
of…passion that were related to that.”
    Salacious. Lara was a woman after
her own heart. Salacious had been the word of the day about two
weeks ago. Salacious—indecent; sexually suggestive;
sensational.
    The title of the book was “ A
History of Dark Deeds in Seaside .” With a name like that, Lara
might be right. It also might be worth showing Jenny even if it
said nothing about Shane Blythe. Jenny liked salacious. Well—as
long as Ana didn’t use the word “salacious.”
    “Was there a lot of belief in
witchcraft back then?” Ana asked.
    “You’d be surprised how
superstitious people can be. There were a number of accounts of
hexes and séances if I remember right. Some of the other librarians
fought having it included in the history section, but even a town’s
history with the occult—its emotional history—is history in my
opinion.”
    She left Analise there with the book
which Ana took to a chair to peruse. There were distant thuds as
doors were shut to the outside world. Lara wasn’t wrong about the
book’s scandalous tales. It appeared the city’s founding fathers
had been an extremely superstitious lot.
    Lara’s voice startled her. “If you’d
like, I can make an exception for you and allow you to check out
that book, since you’re Charles Franklin’s great, great
grandchild.”
    Ana bit her lip. She was planning on
taking the book with her, for sure. “I’d still like to stay for a
bit. I might need to cross reference with other books.” It was as
good a ploy as they came for staying here after everyone left. Ana
needed to stay to see Shane. Her temperature was rising every
second. She hadn’t been this excited for Christmas when she was a
child. It was only through a supreme effort she wasn’t checking the
clock or staring out the window willing night to fall and the moon
to rise. Minutes had been hours since she’d arrived.
    Lara shrugged, but nodded. “You’ll
remember to make sure the latch catches on the
backdoor?”
    “Yes. Thank you.”
    With a wave, she left, and Ana was
alone again in the room—the room where a ghost would soon appear.
She glanced up at the window and sighed. It might be a while. She
turned another page and buried her nose in a story about someone
hexing someone else’s cow.
     

She was still here. His exultant
feeling only grew as he gained form. Ana was back again in the
library. Normally, he eased into being slowly, and he only
materialized so he could gain access to the books to try to
discover what had happened to him. Tonight, Shane slammed into the
physical plane so quickly, he stumbled in front of his painting
where he always gained form at night.
    Maybe it was egotistical that this
was where he appeared—in front of that giant display of himself.
That painting—the painting that he loathed and wished Charles