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A Ghost of a Chance

Page 27

by Cherie Claire


  “Can you see me?” she mouths and I’m so startled this may be a ghost standing before me that I say nothing, merely nod.

  “Vi?” comes the voice again and I turn to find my ex-husband, staring at me as the girl had done, only this time with a love-sick gaze.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  TB grins that goofy smile that has always driven me crazy, one that reminds me of our uneven relationship and fills me with guilt.

  “Portia told me about the festival. And guess what? You were the first person I saw tonight.”

  I glance at Portia who’s laughing her ass off.

  Just then my mom arrives, announcing to Portia, “We have to go.”

  It’s rare to see my mother not in control but something has happened and I feel a buzz deep in my soul akin to when a ghost arrives. I glance back at the girl by the bayou’s edge but she has vanished. I look around the crowd but find her nowhere.

  “Let’s go Portia,” my mother says sternly and that chill turns into a full-fledge shiver that rocks me up to my chin.

  Mom kisses me on the cheek, places two twenties in my hand, offers a polite but brief greeting to TB, and the two head off to the parking lot.

  “What on earth is that about?” I whisper to Portia as she walks past.

  Portia pauses, stalling as if she’s unsure of what to reveal. Finally, she whispers, “I’ll explain later.”

  And in that instant, all chills disappear, replaced by a foreboding that stills my heart and fires up my temple. I stand there by the bayou’s edge with enough funds to buy food for the week but still in dire straits, TB is gushing love into my ear like a high school freshman, and the girl appears once more, shaking her head as if she’s heard the entire conversation.

  Author Notes

  When Hurricane Katrina slammed into New Orleans and the Mississippi Gulf Coast, my heart shattered into a million pieces. I knew I had to do something to help my hometown, so I quit my newspaper job and became a volunteer coordinator for a Unitarian Universalist recovery program and started freelance writing on the side. There are blessings from Katrina, as Viola says in the beginning, for my travel writing took off, a job I had wanted my entire career although being a newspaper editor provided a steady income and benefits.

  Both experiences inspired me to write this book, the first in my new Viola Valentine paranormal mystery series.

  Most of the places spotlighted in the book are real, gleaned from actual press trips I took to Eureka Springs, plus time spent at the city’s Writer’s Colony at Dairy Hollow.

  However, many aspects of the novel were born from the dark insides of my brain.

  The historic Monteleone Hotel in the heart of the French Quarter is a true New Orleans gem, with its gorgeous lobby, Carousel Bar and unique literary heritage. There are many spirits refusing to check out of the Monteleone, including former employees, jilted lovers and children. Viola hears kids running up and down the halls and enjoys a visit from a red-headed man in the café. There are tales of children who have died at the Monteleone, and guests have related invisible kids playing in the hallway on the fourteenth floor. “Red,” a former hotel engineer who worked in the boiler room below the restaurant, has been known to show up as well, although offering guests coffee is my own exaggeration.

  All spirits at the Hotel Monteleone are friendly, more mischievous than scary.

  There are so many ghosts haunting the 1886 Crescent Hotel & Spa that it’s known as “America’s Most Haunted Hotel.” Its origins in 1886 were as a retreat for the upper class. During the colder months of the year The Crescent College & Conservatory for Young Women occupied the five-story building from 1908 to 1934.

  The cloud of mist that people sometime see around ten-thirty at night is believed to be a Conservatory student who somehow fell to her death from the east side upper terrace. Ghost tour guides claim it may not have been an accident, but her name and details of her death are never given, much to my frustration. Imagination fills in the gaps where facts are lacking, so I invented Lauralie Annabelle Thorne and the reason how she died and when. All people related to this fictional ghost are imaginary, including James Cabellero Leatherwood, Gene Tanner and the murdered orphans.

  Other ghosts that appear to linger within the Crescent Hotel are a nurse roaming the halls, pushing a gurney (you can hear the wheels turning) who is left over from the Baker Hospital days and Theodora in Room 419, who doesn’t appreciate rude visitors in her room. Michael remains my favorite, an Irish stonemason who apparently fell to his death while building the hotel. He prefers Room 218, but I gave him a job as masseuse in the spa.

  When the journalists are spooked in the book while visiting the hotel’s “morgue,” I based that scene on one of my press trips. My group of journalists were in high spirits — pun intended — as we made our way throughout the hotel and learned of the many ghosts lingering about. We even enjoyed the creepy stories in the dark, dank morgue until something spooked us all at the same time. We asked to leave at that point and didn’t breathe easier until we hit the stairs.

  Ghosts refuse to check out of the Basin Park Hotel as well. The cowboy Carmine refers to in the book is one of them.

  Sycamore Cave does not exist but War Eagle Cavern does, the largest cave in northwest Arkansas. As far as I know, it’s not haunted by murdered school girls. War Eagle hugs Beaver Lake and includes signs of past visitors such as Civil War soldiers in addition to its fascinating rock outcrops. It’s perfectly safe for visitors.

  DeSoto Caverns near Birmingham, Alabama, where Vi first hears the voices of the dead, does exist but it’s not haunted either, unless you count their Halloween attractions. However, I did find a tale online that involved a ghostly mist within the caves.

  Since the book is set in 2006, Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas, was in its construction phase. The museum now sits on 120 wooded acres and contains American paintings and sculptures from the colonial period to the modern era, culled by Alice Walton of the Walmart clan. The buildings and extensive grounds are as gorgeous as the artwork and, because it received a grant from the Walton Family Foundation, entrance fees are waived to the main exhibit space.

  Another person culled from my brain is Cassiopeia aka Merrill Seligman, the owner of Rainbow Waters. I based, in part, Seligman’s store on the actual Crystal Waters of Eureka Springs, a delightful shop that sells beautiful rocks and other treasures from nature, in addition to New Age items.

  Acknowledgements

  I visited Eureka Springs twice gathering research for this book, thanks to the Writer’s Colony at Dairy Hollow, which offers subsidized housing and meals for struggling writers in need of peace, quiet and a place to create. Thanks also to the friendly cat down the street who always said hello on my way to and from the heart of town. She shows up in future books of the series.

  Thanks, too, to my fellow travel writers and public relations professionals, all of whom gave me fodder for novels without knowing it. Most of them are wonderful people, however, including Karen Ott Mayer, now editor of DeSoto magazine, and Sue and Kevin McCarthy, hosts of Travel Planners Radio Show. Thanks also to the Geiger & Associates public relations folks who introduced me to Eureka Springs on one of my very first press trips.

  A special thanks to William E. Ott II of the Crescent Hotel who not only gave me permission to explore the grand Victorian hotel but also shared ghost tales over drinks on the balcony of the Baker Bar.

  There are so many special people who helped with this book: my husband Bruce Coen, my sister Danon Dastugue, sons Joshua and Taylor Coen and mom LilyB Moskal. These family members are the harshest critics I know and they all gave me thumbs up and valuable feedback. I love you all.

  About the Author

  Cherie Claire is a native of New Orleans who, like so many other Gulf Coast residents, was heartbroken after Hurricane Katrina. She works as a travel and food writer and extensively covers the Deep South, including its colorful ghost sto
ries. To learn more about her novels and her non-fiction books, upcoming events and to sign up for her newsletter, visit her website www.CherieClaire.net. Write to Cherie at CajunRomances@Yahoo.com.

  Also by Cherie Claire

  Viola Valentine Mystery Series

  A Ghost of a Chance

  Ghost Town

  Trace of a Ghost

  The Cajun Embassy

  Ticket to Paradise

  Damn Yankees

  Gone Pecan

  The Cajun Series

  Emilie

  Rose

  Gabrielle

  Delphine

  A Cajun Dream

  The Letter

  Carnival Confessions: A Mardi Gras Novella

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