Harvest Web
A Moonshadow Bay Novel, Book 4
Yasmine Galenorn
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published by Yasmine Galenorn
PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037
HARVEST WEB
A Moonshadow Bay Novel
Copyright © 2021 by Yasmine Galenorn
First Electronic Printing: 2021 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
First Print Edition: 2021 Nightqueen Enterprises
Cover Art & Design: Ravven
Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn
Editor: Elizabeth Flynn
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published in the United States of America
Contents
Acknowledgments
Welcome to Harvest Web
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Playlist
Biography
Acknowledgments
Welcome back to January Jaxson’s world—the world of Moonshadow Bay.
Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband, Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great, and thank you to everyone. To Kate Danley in particular, for running our author sprints that have helped me regain my focus in this current pandemic. To my wonderful cover artist, Ravven, for the beautiful work she’s done.
Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. My most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. My love and reverence to Herne, and Cernunnos, and to the Fae, who still rule the wild places of this world. And a nod to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.
You can find me through my website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases! You can find my advice on writing, discussions about the books, and general ramblings on my blog. If you liked this book, I’d be grateful if you’d leave a review—it helps more than you can think.
Brightest Blessings,
~The Painted Panther~
~Yasmine Galenorn~
Welcome to Harvest Web
Summer has been kind to January—work has involved a lot of quiet research, she’s helped Ari revamp her wedding plans, and settled into a comfortable routine with Killian. That all comes to a screeching halt when autumn crashes in like a bull in a china shop.
January finds herself plagued with a frightening ghost when renovations literally uncover a skeleton in a hidden room. She must discover who the dead man was and why his skeleton is in her house before she can exorcise the spirit—not an easy task in itself. On top of that, at work an even more serious issue arises when Conjure Ink’s new client is killed by the Whatcom Devil—an urban legend come to life. And now, it’s stalking January. Can Conjure Ink manage to find and destroy the creature before it manages to claim January as its next victim?
Reading Order for the Moonshadow Bay Series:
Book 1: Starlight Web
Book 2: Midnight Web
Book 3: Conjure Web
Book 4: Harvest Web
Book 5: Shadow Web
Chapter One
I brushed a stray leaf out of my hair and stood up to stretch. I had been bent over for the past half hour and my lower back was burning.
“That’s what you get for deciding to grow a vegetable garden,” I muttered.
I was harvesting the last of the tomatoes and the final crop of cucumbers from my first attempt at a garden. A row of lettuce was wilting under the autumn rains that had finally come in, but I considered just turning it under. It wasn’t that I didn’t like lettuce, but I had been eating salad every day during the summer, I was tired of it, and I didn’t feel the least bit healthier. Not to mention, the rains that had come early had practically pounded it into the ground. I was lucky the tomatoes and cucumbers were still in good shape. But this would be the last crop.
I paused, pivoting my gaze to the Mystic Wood. The trees felt volatile today—I could sense their reluctance toward sharing their space with humans. I wasn’t sure where the sudden anger had flared from, but for some reason, the forest that abutted the back of my yard had been grizzled lately. That was the best way I could put it.
The woodland was filled with magical creatures, not all of whom were friendly. In fact, very few of those I had met so far seemed to care for humankind—or witchblood, for that matter. The forest itself was a hive mind, forming an entity stronger and bigger than the mere flora and fauna that made up its body. There was some sort of design behind the watchful sentinels—the massive cedars and firs that made up most of the Mystic Wood. And the past week or so, whatever intelligence lurking within the wood hadn’t been happy.
As I stretched my arms wide and yawned, I caught sight of an owl sitting in one of the trees near my garden. It gazed at me for a moment and I stared back at it. Then, with a soft hoot, it took wing and flew off. As it left, a rush of feeling exposed and vulnerable washed over me. Knowing better than to just brush it off, I picked up my basket of produce and headed for the gate leading to Killian’s house, hoping that whatever was wrong would pass.
I set the basket of tomatoes and cucumbers on the counter, and glanced at the clock. One p.m. I flipped on the espresso machine and made myself a mocha as I ticked off the box next to “Pick veggies” on my to-do list. I had taken the week off from work so I could have plenty of time to move back into my house.
Xi landed on the counter and rubbed against me, letting out a purp that was so loud that she snorted, surprising herself. The tortie blinked, looking around, before she jumped down and leisurely crossed the kitchen to nosh on some kibble. Klaus, her gorgeous gray brother, was asleep in the living room, curled up in Killian’s leather recliner. By now, the kittens were ten months old. While Xi was still relatively lithe, Klaus was beefing up to be a big boy.
I carried my mocha into the living room and curled up on the sofa. Killian’s house was comfortable, in some ways more than mine, but it wasn’t my home, and I felt disconcerted staying here while he was gone. We had been together for nine months and we were in a comfortable place, but I had gotten used to living on my own again and I wasn’t ready to share my space with anybody else—not on an everyday basis.
As I set my mug down, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID—it was the contractor.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Jaxson?” Even though he knew my voice, Jim Lark always asked if it was me.
“Yes, Jim, this is January. What’s up? How are things going at my house?” I purposely kept away from the house because when I hovered, the workers slowed down. I had forced myself to stay away the entire past two weeks.
“We’re done. If you’d like to come over for a walk-through, I can show you around and see if there’s anything we missed. The city inspector has bee
n in, and approved all the new plumbing and wiring, so I have those documents here for you to look at.”
My heart skipped a beat and a smile spread across my face. “Jim, those are wonderful words to hear. I’ll be over in ten minutes. Give me a moment to change. I was out in the garden and I’m a little grubby.” Before he could sputter out an apology—the man was a chronic apologizer, and even if you paid him a compliment he found a way to turn it into a complaint—I hung up and scooped up Xi in my arms.
“We can go home today! Jim’s crew is done, Xi! I’m going to have the en suite of my dreams, and the kitchen will be new, and the house will feel a lot more open!” Ignoring the knots in my back, I jumped up and danced her around the room.
Xi gave me a haughty look, then playfully swatted at my nose. I kissed her on the forehead and carried her into the bedroom with me, setting her on the bed. I poked through the closet for a clean pair of jeans and a V-neck sweater. As I dressed, it occurred to me that I needed to buy some new clothes. I had been on the edge of a size fourteen when I first moved back to Moonshadow Bay, but leaving Ellison had freed me to actually eat something and not burn it off through nervous stress. I was starting to push close to a size sixteen now. I didn’t really care too much, as long as I put the brakes on somewhere, but I hated wearing clothes that were too tight for me, and the jeans I changed into were close to not zipping. The last thing I needed or wanted was a camel toe.
I glanced out the window. It was raining steadily again, but since I just had to run next door, I ignored my coat and grabbed my purse and checkbook. Making sure I had my keys, I dashed out the door and down the walkway toward the fence that led to my backyard. Another glance at the Mystic Wood told me I hadn’t been imagining things—there were some agitated spirits hanging out in the forest. I could feel them all the way up here. Turning my attention to my house, I pulled out my keys and raced up the steps to the porch, feeling like a little kid who just found out they were bound for Disneyland.
Jim was waiting in my kitchen. He was a short man, but he had a huge spirit, and he beamed as I peeked in the door.
“Welcome home, January.”
I took a deep breath and slid through the door, looking around. It was hard to know what to look at first. The counters gleamed. I’d decided to leave the white quartz counters and the deep espresso–stained cabinets, but Jim had spruced them up. The biggest change, though, was in the elimination of the wall that had originally separated the kitchen from the hall closet. The hall closet was gone and the kitchen extended into an open dining area, which merged into the living room.
Jim had also changed the position of the front door, moving it to the left side of the living room instead of far right. It meant walking a few more feet from the driveway to enter the house, but new side steps up to the front porch eliminated walking through the rain and mud. The front sidewalk now curved left, leading to the new entrance.
I had also asked Jim to remove the door to the office—which was on the left—and replace it with a wide archway, which opened the flow of the house even more. Given we’d had to work within the house’s original footprint, there really wasn’t more space, but it was utilized so well that it felt much bigger. The walls were smooth and freshly painted in the colors of my choice. Everything looked and felt so surreal.
“I can’t believe what you managed to do with the house,” I said, looking around. I opened the door to the powder room to see he’d updated the fixtures and paint.
“Let’s head upstairs,” he said.
I followed him up the stairs and eagerly opened the door to my new en suite. It was perfect. He had stolen some unused storage space behind my bedroom to enlarge the closet into a full walk-in. The bathroom had been refreshed, with new fixtures. The walk-in shower was larger, and now tiled with pale marble to match the countertop. He had installed new flooring and painted the walls, as well.
“I love the new closet, and the bathroom looks good,” I said. “You did a great job. I love all the changes. Thank you. Are we good to go? Can I move my furniture back in?”
Jim nodded. “Yes, it’s all done. But I found something while I was working on the gas fireplace in the library. You’d better come look.”
He led me back downstairs to the library, which had been left alone except for the new fireplace. “When we broke through the wall to install the fireplace, I found this.” He led me to one side of the new fireplace, where a section of the wall was missing. In its place was a door.
I stared at it for a moment. Had there been a door there when I lived at home? I strained my memory, trying to recall. Then, something clicked and I snapped my fingers.
“I remember now! My mother told me this was a storage closet but she never let me go in it. I think they always kept it locked. I had totally forgotten about it, so I never noticed the door was missing.”
He shook his head. “Well, for some reason your parents walled it up. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”
“It’s been a long time since I lived here, and mostly, I’ve just been trying to sort out my new life,” I said, reaching for the door handle.
“Don’t bother. It’s locked and I don’t have a key. I didn’t want to try to bust it open without your permission.” One thing about Jim, he was as trustworthy as they came. Which was why I was comfortable with him in my house when I wasn’t here.
“I probably have the key—I have both my mother’s and father’s key rings. The key has to be on one of them.” I glanced at the door again, frowning. I couldn’t believe that I had forgotten the storage closet. Which brought up thoughts of the attic. “I forgot to ask. What about the attic?”
“We replaced the flooring and rewired the room so that you have internet access up there, and also so that you have better lighting. I beefed up the insulation to help during winter. I’m sorry that I can’t give you a permanent staircase—you’d have to lose most of your hallway space and that would be against code, but I made it easier for you to pull the ladder down.”
We headed back upstairs where he showed me how to use the new retractable ladder leading up to the attic. All I had to do was press a button and the ceiling panel retracted automatically. With the simple grabber extension, I only had to lightly tug on the ladder and it unfolded, clicking into place.
“That’s so much easier,” I said, clapping. “No more standing on a chair, trying to push open that panel. Then I just press the button again when I’m done?”
“First flip the switch on the back of the stairs and then stand back,” he said.
I found the switch and flipped it. The stairs folded inward and rose back up by themselves. Once they locked into place, I pressed the button and the now-retractable panel on the ceiling closed.
“This is perfect,” I said. “Jim, you’re a genius.” I nodded toward the stairs. “Shall we go down and I’ll write you a check for the balance?”
“Sure. In this economy, I’m just grateful for the work.” He stood back, letting me go first, and then followed me down to the kitchen, where I hopped up to sit on the counter while I wrote out his check for the balance of the work. The remodeling had eaten up a good chunk of my savings, but the house was perfect now, and I couldn’t wait to show Killian and Ari.
After Jim left, I walked around the kitchen, running my hands over the counters and marveling at the way the new footprint made everything feel so much larger. Then, eager to move my things back over, I put in a call to Killian to tell him I was ready to move back home.
So, I’m January Jaxson and I live in Moonshadow Bay, Washington. It’s a quirky little town that doesn’t care much for outsiders, unless it decides you belong to it. At that point, Moonshadow Bay beckons you in, and once it has you, it doesn’t let go. The town isn’t far from Bellingham, a university town that overlooks the Salish Sea and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. A lot of peculiar folk live here, and a lot of the non-living make this their home as well.
I work for Conjure Ink, a paranormal investiga
tions agency and website. We look into hauntings, urban legends, and all those eerie, bump-in-the-night events that are designed to scare the living and make them think twice about picnics in the graveyard and investigating old houses that have been left to rot and ruin.
Right before I turned forty-one years old back in January (yes, my parents named me for the month I was born in), I moved back to Moonshadow Bay after an acrimonious divorce from my sleazeball of an ex. He stole the business that I helped to build, he made my life hell, cheated on me, and then burned down the building our arts magazine was in.
Unfortunately, he was now living in Bellingham, not ten miles away, with his parents. Apparently, bad behavior and inadvertent arson gets you a bad rap in the elite arts community. Trouble was, he took me down with him, doing his best to destroy my reputation among our mutual friends.
Ellison couldn’t stand the fact that I was a witch—born to the magic as much as I was born to write—and even though he had known full well about my powers before we married, he had shredded my self-confidence and self-assurance. I was in the process of rebuilding my life, but I’d never forgive him.
My parents died a little over a year ago. So, though the wounds were still fresh, I had moved back to take up life in the home that had housed my childhood. My best friend Ari and I had reunited, and I had branched out and met new people. Now I had a job I loved, a house that was freshly remodeled, and a boyfriend I hadn’t expected—but whom I was grateful for. I even had two cats, and my life seemed picture-perfect in so many ways. Unfortunately, pictures only show a moment, frozen in time.
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