Afraid of the Dark: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Midlife Spirits Series Book 1) Read online

  AFRAID OF THE DARK

  Midlife Spirits Series #1

  by

  H.P. Mallory

  Other Books by H.P. Mallory

  Paranormal Series: (Writing as H.P. Mallory)

  Chasing Demons Series

  Poppy’s Potions Series

  Wanda’s Witchery Series

  Lucy Westenra Series

  Dungeon Raider Series

  Lily Harper Series

  Dulcie O’Neil Series (over 1 million downloads of the series!)

  Underworld Series (New York Times bestselling series!)

  NuLife Series

  Midlife Spirits Series

  Reverse Harem Series: (Writing as Plum Pascal)

  Happily Never After Series

  Sacred Oath Series

  Afraid of the Dark

  Published by Rain Press

  Copyright © 2014 by H.P Mallory

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents:

  Foreword

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Reading Sample: To Kill a Warlock

  About Author

  Foreword

  by J.R. Rain

  Hi there and welcome to the Midlife Spirits Series!

  J.R. Rain here, and I’m so excited to introduce you to the world of Peyton Clark and all her ghostly happenings!

  The Midlife Spirits Series is written by my friend and co-author, H.P. Mallory. If you love paranormal women’s fiction and our series taking place in Haven Hollow (Poppy’s Potions and Wanda’s Witchery with more coming), I know you’ll love this one!

  Get ready for lots of New Orleans history, twists and turns that will keep you guessing, action, adventure, and romance that will stay with you long after you’ve put the books down.

  I’m so thrilled for you to start this series and lose yourself in the world H.P.’s created for Peyton and the gang.

  Happy Reading!

  —J.R.

  Afraid of the Dark

  Chapter One

  When Ryan and I found ourselves back at my house after our incredible dinner at Antoine’s, I couldn’t help wishing we were still at dinner. It was just so easy to enjoy Ryan’s company. We talked, joked, and laughed as if we’d known each other all our lives.

  The drive to my house was a fairly informative one with Ryan pointing out various homes he’d renovated, along with the homes of the rich and famous. We parked alongside the crumbling curb and Ryan was quick on his feet to open my door for me, ever the gentleman. He held my arm as we walked up the pathway, and I couldn’t deny how good it felt to have him so attentive, not to mention so close to me.

  As soon as I unlocked my front door, the contrast in ambiance between the ethereal airiness of Antoine’s restaurant and the darkness of my house wasn’t lost on me. The brightness, soft chit-chat of guests, and coziness of the restaurant starkly accentuated the empty, gloomy foyer that loomed before us. I wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of my mind, but it seemed like there was also a shadowy, ominous feeling to the walls and the broad expanse of aged, walnut floors.

  “So, do you know what we’re supposed to do for this cleansing?” Ryan asked as he closed the door behind us. Trina, Ryan’s sister, and I had used a Ouija board recently to contact the ghost who was haunting my house, Drake Montague, but something else had come across. As such, I needed to ‘cleanse’ the house.

  Glancing at Ryan over my shoulder, I frowned. “Nope, but the girl at the store said the directions were in the bag.”

  “Why doesn’t that leave me with much confidence?” Ryan grumbled as I nodded with a small, nervous laugh. Crossing the threshold into my house, my nerves went on high alert. Even though there wasn’t any proof that anything malevolent, or anything at all, really, had contacted Trina and me during the Ouija board experiment, the air felt heavy. And I also couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched—and not just by the nosy Drake. No, this was a feeling that left me frightened. It just seemed as though the house was hiding its own secrets. The more I thought about it, the more it freaked me out.

  “You good, Peyton?” Ryan asked, visible concern in his warm eyes.

  I nodded immediately, trying to prevent him from getting a whiff of my overactive imagination, which was definitely running away from me. I reached inside my purse and produced the small, black ritual bag, which was about the size of my palm. Untying the black satin ribbon, I took a seat on the floor, tucking my legs to the side so as not to appear unladylike in my dress.

  “This house is so dusty, you’re going to ruin your dress,” Ryan pointed out as he sat alongside me. I waved away his concern, and emptied the contents of the bag on the dark wood floors. There were three sacks of flower petals and herbs, another sack filled with what looked like bath salts, another with three stones or gems, a bag with a crystal in it, and finally, a plastic Ziploc bag with what appeared to be sage inside. There were two more empty velvet sacks, along with a black candle that was maybe the length and width of my middle finger.

  “Directions, directions,” I mumbled absentmindedly as I fumbled with the wrinkled piece of paper. The print was so tiny, it was nearly illegible. As I brought the inscrutable instructions to my eyes, the sound of the door opening on its own caused Ryan and me to turn around immediately. I wasn’t sure about Ryan, but the creaking sound caused my heart to leap into my throat. I even dropped the instructions as I brought my hand to my chest in an attempt to quiet my suddenly pounding heart.

  “Sorry I’m late!” Trina called out, closing the door behind her and hurrying toward us. She had a red backpack over one of her shoulders and an apologetic smile on her pretty face.

  “Trina?” Ryan and I asked at the same time, both of us clearly at a loss as to why she was here, although I had to admit that seeing her was a huge relief. I was worried that our visitor might have been someone or something less welcomed.

  Trina nodded, a stray lock of golden hair falling into her face. She secured it back into her ponytail and walked closer to us. “I tried to get here as quickly as I could to help banish the spirit, since you both clearly have no idea what’s going on.” She speared both of us with a poignant expression before dropping her backpack beside Ryan and taking a seat between us. Ryan cleared his throat as if to say he’d prefer her take a seat elsewhere, but Trina didn’t seem to notice. She methodically unzipped her backpack and began rummaging through it.

  “First we must clear the space with a prayer to Saint Joseph,” she announced matter-of-factly. She pulled out a few Ziploc bags, which were stuffed to splitting with what looked like dried flower petals and rosemary. “This prayer is for protection,” she added, focusing her attention on me. Opening her mouth, she was about to deliver her protection prayer to Saint Joseph when Ryan interrupted her.

  “Trina, what are you doing here?” he asked, his eyebrows bunched together in obvious puzzlement. “Peyton and I were on a date, you know?”

  “Yes, I’m aware you were on a date,” she started, fixing him with an exact replica of the frown he was giving her. “Which is why I didn’t show up at Antoine’s. But now your date is over, and we need to deal with more important things.�
�

  I couldn’t stifle a slight giggle as I watched Ryan continue to frown at her. She, meanwhile, elbowed him playfully. “Come on, big brother, you’re neighbors ... there’ll be plenty of time to steal sweet kisses later.” Then, eyeing me, she winked. “Just call me your friendly chaperone.”

  I laughed again and Ryan shook his head, but there was a definite smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, so get the show on the road,” he mumbled.

  She frowned at him. “An’ y’all are welcome, by the way.”

  “For what?” Ryan demanded.

  “For my showin’ up here tonight! I mean, hello, it’s more than a little obvious that neither one of you has any idea how to rid Peyton’s house of ghostly energy. I figured it was my responsibility as a voodoo practitioner to render my skills.”

  Ryan chuckled and shook his head again. “A voodoo practitioner, Trina? Since when?”

  “Since a couple of months ago, nosy,” she replied before skewering him with a big frown and clearing her throat.

  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be a repeat of the Ouija board incident, which was to blame if anything malevolent really had crossed over.

  “Gracious Saint Joseph,” Trina said out loud before giving us a narrowed eye expression that inferred we should be grateful she’d arrived to help us. “Protect me and my family from evil as you did the holy family. Keep us ever united in the love of Christ, ever fervent in the imitation of the virtue of our Blessed Lady, your sinless spouse, and faithful in devotion to you. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Ryan repeated. Assuming I was supposed to participate, I responded in kind.

  Apparently satisfied, Trina reached into her backpack again and produced what looked like two bricks of charcoal. She placed them in front of her while eyeing the sage from my Dark Moon ritual bag, and pointing to it. I handed it to her and watched as she opened the bag and placed the sage on top of the two charcoal briquettes. She then pulled a lighter from her backpack and lit the sage.

  “The sage purifies the air,” Trina explained. “It’s used for protection, cleansing, and blessing.”

  Reaching inside her backpack yet again, she produced a white candle. She held it in one hand while she dug inside the small pocket on the front of her backpack. She produced a tiny vial with what looked like yellow oil inside of it. Pulling off the top of the vial, she placed a few drops of the oil on her palm and also coated her fingertips. Then she gripped the candle and started anointing it upwards, from its middle, while she closed her eyes and chanted something. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, placed a few more drops of oil in her palm and started working the candle from the middle downward. When she was finished rubbing oil all over the candle, she opened her eyes again and inspected what remained of my Dark Moon ritual bag. She spread it out on the floor, and pointed to the bag of herbs and flower petals closest to me. I handed them to her and watched as she unwrapped the satin ribbon from each gossamer bag. She examined the contents with little interest before turning up her nose and reaching for the Ziploc bags that she’d brought with her. I could only guess what they were filled with.

  Rummaging through her backpack again, she pulled out a mortar and pestle, placing them at her feet. Then she turned her attention to the bags before her, opening three of them and extracting a pinchful from each. She placed each pinchful into the mortar, and using the pestle, ground the contents into a fine powder. She then sifted about a tablespoon of the powder into her palm and picked up the candle. She rolled the candle in the fine dust, being careful to ensure that it was thoroughly covered.

  “I just dressed the candle with Curse Reversal oil,” she announced to the room. “Then I rolled it in a mix of cedar, bay, and eucalyptus leaves; garlic powder; lilac petals; and mint leaves. All aid in protection as well as releasin’ negative energy and bad spirits.” She pulled the two charcoal bricks apart and wedged the white candle between them so it would stand up, before reaching back inside her backpack and producing a black candle. Just then, she spotted mine and waved at it. “I need that.”

  I said nothing, but dutifully retrieved it for her. I watched her pop it in place next to the white one. Then she lit both and looked up at me. “The white candle is for purity and cleansin’. The black candle is for removin’ evil and for protection.”

  She eyed my bag of tricks again and motioned for the small, sheer bag that held three stones or gems. I handed her the bag and she removed the stones, studying each one before closing her eyes. Chanting something only known to her, she then deposited each gem beside the candles. “Amethyst, petrified wood, and quartz crystal—all for protection.” She reached inside her backpack and produced a piece of jade, which she lined up next to the other three. “And jade, since the House of Voodoo is too cheap to include it.”

  Ryan and I laughed before she gave us a discouraging look which made us immediately go silent. Reaching inside her backpack again, she took out what looked a pair of the swamp man’s feet.

  “Good Lord, Trina, what in the hell are those?” Ryan roared as he stared at his sister with a mixture of interest and offense.

  “Alligator feet,” she answered noncommittally. “For good luck and protection.”

  “Gross,” I muttered. Ryan continued frowning at the ugly, webbed, and shriveled up things, but Trina ignored us, placing the alligator feet alongside her other odds and ends.

  Then she started reciting Psalm 23, after first informing us that it would serve as a blessing for my home. “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothin’.”

  After she finished, she checked the candles to make sure they were still burning, and continued. “Now for the hefty stuff ... the demon-purgin’ and exorcism of evil spirits,” she continued. All we were missing was a drum roll to aid in the unveiling. She started reading Psalm 29, followed by Psalm 10, then 19. When I thought she was going to take a breather, she burst into Psalm 40.

  Neither Ryan nor I said a word. We just sat there and listened to Trina as she repeated the Bible passages. She only stopped after both of the candles burned out. Pulling out a brown paper bag from her backpack, she placed the remains of the burnt candles into it. She folded the paper bag, put it in her backpack, faced both of us again with a big smile, and clapped her hands together.

  “Voila! Your house is cleansed!”

  “That’s it?” I asked, frowning skeptically as I glanced over at Ryan in question. He simply shrugged.

  “Well, I’ve gotta deposit those candle remains at a crossroads, but other than that ... Yeah, that’s it,” Trina said with another big smile as she started to collect her things, and put them all into her backpack. She eyed the remains of my Dark Moon ritual bag and faced me with a sweet smile. “Are you goin’ to keep that stuff? Or could I have it?”

  “Take it,” I answered quickly, figuring there wasn’t anything more I could do with it.

  ***

  The day finally came that I moved back into my house, or more specifically, the guest bedroom and bathroom on the first floor; but it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies. . Yes, I was very excited to be out of the Omni hotel and back into my own personal space, but I was also apprehensive. How could I be sure that all that negative spiritual energy was properly purified from my house? I had to admit I wasn’t entirely convinced about the efficacy where Trina’s voodoo skills were concerned ...

  Four days had passed since Trina, Ryan, and I performed the cleansing ceremony in the living room, and as far as I could tell, the house seemed unoccupied by anything paranormal. ’Course I hadn’t yet spent the night, which meant I could’ve been completely wrong. Tonight marked my first sleepover in my house since all the spirit stuff went down. To say I was nervous was an abject understatement.

  “Are you happy with how everything looks?” Ryan asked while examining his handiwork before turning back to face me. We were standing in the guest bedroom and I happily agreed he’d done a miraculous job in restoring it.


  The walls were painted buttercream with white crown molding around every window, as well as around the door and in the corners where the walls met the floors and ceiling. The floors had been sanded, stained, and sealed, now closely resembling the walnut floors I saw in my dreams when I visited Drake.

  As to the furniture, I’d ordered the entire Sofia bedroom collection from Pottery Barn, which evoked the style of Swedish furniture. It didn’t so much speak Swedish to me—but I was pretty happy that it matched the room so well. The queen-size mahogany headboard was painted white and the coved corners and posts matched perfectly with the ornate molding in the room. I’d also ordered the matching bedside table, dresser, and armoire, which only aided the airy, bright space. Completing the look was a light blue, wool rug and paisley bed linens, of the same hue.

  “You really did a beautiful job, Ryan,” I said with a big smile as I hung up another of my sweaters in the undersized closet. I’d managed to hang up about half the contents of my closet so far, with Ryan’s help.

  Picking up a lemon-yellow chiffon blouse, Ryan studied it for a second before reaching for a hanger on the bed. “This is see-through,” he said.

  “Yep, it is,” I answered with a nod, adding without a pause, “that’s the blouse I wear on all my second dates.”

  Eyeing me with what looked like surprise on his face, he chuckled once he realized I was pulling his leg. He shook his head and hung the blouse in the proper section. “I’m really happy you approve of everything so far,” he answered as he faced the bathroom. “I have to admit, I wasn’t convinced about the navy blue, but now I like it.”

  He was referring to the navy-blue paint I’d chosen for the walls in the bathroom. Even though the paint was pretty dark, when juxtaposed with the white wainscoting, it neither confined nor overwhelmed the small bathroom. The cabinets were a crisp white as well, with black pulls. The bathtub also served as a shower with only a sheet of glass to keep the water inside the tub. Everything had a clean, modern feel to it.