Table of Contents
Excerpt
Kudos for Sandy Wolters
Troubled Spirits
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
A word from the author…
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
“Excuse me. What did you say?”
The familiar reaction had Jody’s heart sinking. She had to admit she did feel the tiniest bit bad for him. He’d had no clue the direction this discussion would take. Forcing a smile on her face, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he ran in the other direction. He’d end up bailing on her just like everyone else she’d been interested in had done.
She could pinpoint the exact moment his mind turned suspicious. His gaze penetrated as he visually examined every inch of her. When his expression softened and the warmth returned to his demeanor, she knew he’d probably devised some logical explanation for what she’d just said. At least that had been the pattern in the past with the men she’d been interested in. Maybe he attributed her comment to exhaustion. Maybe he just thought he’d misunderstood her. She’d have to speak concisely so her words wouldn’t be misinterpreted.
“I woke up last night to find a distraught four-year-old girl in bed with me.” No sugarcoating. She’d be straight up about her abilities, and he’d walk out. She hadn’t had time to get attached to him yet, so nothing gained. But for some reason, her heart sure felt like something had been lost.
“I don’t know when she died, but she’s determined to find her parents and talk to them.”
The color drained from Jared’s face.
Kudos for Sandy Wolters
A rough draft of the first scene in Troubled Spirits won a WIP contest sponsored by the PRG (Paranormal Romance Guild) Book Club in May 2015.
Troubled Spirits
by
Sandy Wolters
Spirit Voices, Book One
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Troubled Spirits
COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Sandy Wolters
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by RJ Morris
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Fantasy Rose Edition, 2017
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1448-8
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1449-5
Spirit Voices, Book One
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my husband, Michael,
for all the love and support you’ve given me
throughout the years.
Your encouragement has kept me going
through thick and thin.
You are my heart.
Chapter One
Startled from a deep sleep, Jody opened her eyes to find a young child’s misty form sitting on the bed—tears streaming down her face. As it often happened with kids that cry for any length of time, the poor little girl’s sobs were punctuated with hiccups.
Groggy from sleep, her first instinct had her reaching out to embrace the small girl and offer whatever solace she could. Tendrils of unease spiraled through Jody’s body when her fingers unexpectedly encountered cold air instead of warm flesh. Her mind roused instantly. She knew at once this child was dead. Spirits had none of the warmth of the living—though they possessed all the same passions.
As she rose to a sitting position, her heart couldn’t help but break for the tiny, cherubic girl who somehow had found a way onto her bed. The heavy weight of the child’s despair settled squarely on Jody’s shoulders. As the realization of the spirit visitation hit home, she found herself in the unenviable position of having no clue how to appease the little girl. She’d just have to stay the course and watch as the child exhausted her pain-laden tears enough to calm herself and speak her mind. Maybe that was all the little angel wanted from her.
Waiting through the weeping and hiccups proved to be agonizing. Several tense minutes passed until finally this beautiful little girl with auburn hair raised her cobalt blue eyes to gaze into Jody’s soul. “I’m Fiona. I want to talk to my mommy and daddy.”
Stricken by the sad message, Jody’s breath caught in her throat. Her hand instinctively covered her heart, trying unsuccessfully to repel the grief radiating from this tiny apparition. The emotional turmoil Fiona expelled dampened Jody’s soul and weighed heavily on her. Anxiety rolled off the child’s spirit in waves and crashed into her body. Each new surge of emotion left Jody feeling battered as if being caught between an angry ocean and steep rock cliffs with no means of escape.
Warning bells blared in Jody’s head. Her empathic abilities were on high alert. Under these conditions, she’d never be able to distance herself from the onslaught of the little ghost girl’s crippling emotions. Unable to separate herself from the child’s grief made coming up with the appropriate response to soothe Fiona impossible.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry you’re hurting.” Her heart broke for this child as well as the mother and father who had lost her. She couldn’t imagine how parents found the strength to cope with the loss of one so young and sweet.
“I sit with my mommy all the time, but she can’t see me. She can’t hear me. When I try to touch her, she doesn’t feel me. I’ve tried to talk to my daddy too, but he’s so worried about mommy that he…he…” The poor little girl couldn’t continue.
Fiona’s bottom lip started to quiver as she fought valiantly to control her tears. Witnessing the sheer determination in that small gesture made Jody’s pulse race. The ghost girl caught her lip between her teeth to quell the tremors. The show of absolute strength in that gesture was duly noted. The young child trying her best to suppress her emotions alerted Jody to the importance of this visitation. It saddened her to see one so young digging that deep to gain the power needed to stabilize such debilitating emotions. The fortitude required for such a feat was impressive.
With no other option available, she’d wait patiently for Fiona to calm herself. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be long before she could continue her story. But in the end, it didn’t matter. She’d give this tiny slip of a girl all the time she needed to gather herself.
With a show of grit that Jody admired, Fiona resolutely brushed the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. Taking what only appeared to be a deep breath, the child gazed into Jody’s e
yes as if she were her last hope. “I’m scared for my mommy. My daddy’s scared for my mommy too. She’s so sad and cries all the time. I need to talk to my mommy right now!”
As Fiona begged for help, Jody felt the crushing weight of the spirit child’s words. Steeped with feelings of inadequacy, she had no idea what could be done to help this poor, downtrodden soul. “Oh, Fiona, I don’t know what to say or do to make this better for you. I’m so sorry.”
Caught up in the youngster’s company, Jody realized the longer the child stayed, the more corporeal her spirit became. With each passing moment, this angelic little girl’s resolve to get her message across became more emboldened—which apparently served to energize and strengthen the spirit sitting in front of her.
Her first glimpse of Fiona had been little more than a light mist. Now, however, she appeared as substantial as any living kid. Transfixed, she couldn’t have torn her gaze from the child sitting next to her if she wanted to. Orange freckles dotting the tiny tyke’s nose and cheeks caught her attention as the image of Fiona continued to be more robust. The smattering of freckles prompted a vision of this little girl with her fair complexion playing out in the sun too long. What in the world happened to this child? She looks so cared for and so healthy.
Considering the tremendous effort Fiona exerted, she understood how important this message must be to the sweet, baby girl sitting in front of her. No matter how emotionally and spiritually draining for Jody, she was determined to let the child have her say. Hopefully in doing so, Fiona would find peace.
The little girl scooted closer and held her small hand out. Touching a spirit was new territory for Jody. Never before had the dead demanded physical contact. Surprised by the action, and not having a clue what to expect, she tentatively reached out to the offered hand. The sensation of Fiona’s touch closely resembled that of a living child. Now she wished the contact hadn’t been allowed. The gesture only served to compound her stress level and intensified the grief she felt for little Fiona. The spirit’s heartbreaking caress felt like a toddler who had been at play in the snow for far too long without gloves—solid but frigidly cold.
Jody gently stroked the back of the girl’s hand with her thumb. The tender display had been a desperate attempt to not only ease the pain in the little one’s soul but her own heartache as well.
Fiona slowly lifted Jody’s hand, placing the open palm against her deathly cold cheek. Mesmerized by this new experience and watching with unabashed curiosity, the child closed her eyes. Jody realized almost instantly she’d made a horrible mistake. A mysterious force, the likes of which she’d never known, whisked her away to some unknown destination. Realizing there was no control to be had over her body, her insides became paralyzed with fear. Feeling as though she’d been tossed down a long dark tunnel, she blindly tumbled through a darker than black void. Her arms and legs flailed out of control. Instinctively, her eyes slammed shut. Her breathing hitched as panic rose and wrenched a terrified scream from deep within her throat.
The freefall ended just as suddenly as it began. Too afraid to open her tightly clenched eyes, she childishly hoped the fact they were sealed shut protected her in some way. Jody allowed her other senses to open and gather information. Her skin prickled with the realization that nothing but stillness surrounded her. Having no clue as to where she’d landed, she instinctively understood this was the quiet before the storm. The sudden calm left Jody with a dreadful feeling of foreboding. Something terribly big and extremely ominous was about to happen. Everything within her braced for all hell to break loose. To protect herself, her body went rigid as she waited for whatever might come next.
While gathering the courage needed to see this through, her sense of smell started picking up on the unique scent only found in a hospital room. The distinctive odor of disinfectants flooded her senses shooting even bigger sparks of anxiety throughout her body.
Afraid but compelled to open her eyes, Jody scanned the small room in which she now found herself. The unbearable emotional pain had her flinching as the suffering of all those who had previously died in this room ambushed her senses. She glimpsed a nurse standing off to the side, her head slightly bowed, her shoulders hunched in mourning.
From the corner, Jody discreetly watched a woman wracked by sorrow. The grief-stricken lady haphazardly sprawled herself on the bed and cradled a small child in her arms. Jody’s vantage point had the unknown woman’s back to her, but the top of the child’s unmoving head was clearly visible. Grasping the kid in her tight embrace, the grieving woman rocked back and forth as she cried into the child’s neck. Jody felt physically ill when she recognized the beautiful auburn hair. Even without seeing her face, she knew right away that the little girl in the deathbed was Fiona.
As the scene started to unfold around her, it became apparent what she’d been drawn into. Fear, bigger and bolder than she’d ever felt before impaled her. Cold, stark panic encircled her, tightening around her body like a vice and labored her breathing. Fiona had taken Jody back to the moment of her death. Now an active participant in the tragic scene that played itself out in front of her, Jody had a front-row seat to the intolerable pain of a mother losing her child—that one earth-shattering, dreadfully private moment in time.
As if caught in some ghastly nightmare, her anxiety level increased so quickly she found herself wildly turning in circles and pounding on walls. Oh God! Oh God! I can’t stay here! There had to be some way to liberate herself and find a hasty retreat out of Fiona’s distressing vision. Eventually, the grieving woman’s misery overwhelmed her and proved to be too much. Dread, dark and cumbersome, clamped its icy fingers on her as the realization sank in that there were no windows or doors to flee through. There would be no escape from the nightmare which held her captive.
The shrill scream from the woman on the hospital bed startled Jody and had her attention immediately focused back onto Fiona’s fate. Horrified by the anguished cry, she covered her ears, but nothing would keep the woman’s frantic plea out of her head.
“Don’t leave me, Fiona! I can’t go on without you. Baby, please, don’t leave me. Fight, baby! Fight for Mommy.”
Too much for Jody’s senses to bear, the mother’s heartbreaking sob broke the vision.
Jody’s agonized scream reverberated through the room. She struggled to tamp down the sorrow by controlling her breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeating the mantra over and over, she hoped this small action would put her squarely back in her bed and release the tragedy of what she’d just witnessed. She focused solely on the words running through her mind until distance could be gained from the uninvited torment.
When Jody finally built up enough courage to open her eyes, she found herself back in her bedroom. Emotionally and physically spent, she had given all she could to the little girl. There wasn’t anything left to offer.
Glancing up she noticed Fiona stood in the center of her bedroom doorway. “I have to go and sit with my mommy now, but I’ll be back.” The small girl disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving Jody in an emotional tailspin. Being sensitive to spirits had always proved difficult, but when children were involved, her psychic abilities became almost too painful to abide.
Physically and emotionally drained from the visitation, Jody collapsed on her bed. In an effort to tamp down her anger at the Universe, she forced her fists against her eyelids and passionately called out to anyone who would listen, “I’m doing everything I can to help people with this gift you’ve given me.”
Anger grew with each spoken word, allowing years of angst to flow out of her. “It’s hard enough going to the grocery store or the park or anywhere else, only to find myself surrounded by people both alive and dead. I set myself up for ridicule every time I approach the living out of the blue to give them messages from people they’ve lost.”
Visions of being slapped and cursed at by strangers ran rampant through her mind. People had even gone so far as to accuse her of w
anting some sort of monetary benefit from them. “Is it too much to ask to be left alone in my own home? In my own bed?”
She followed the outburst with a deep, cleansing breath, trying to relax and release the tormented emotions she’d just witnessed. Not a moment too soon, a peaceful, warm sensation started at the crown of her head and shot rapidly through her body. A bright white light encompassed and touched every aspect of her being. The illumination, loving and warm, facilitated the complete release of the powerful, debilitating emotions Fiona had introduced. Embraced from deep within the depths of her soul, her audible sigh reflected the much-needed relief. Granted with the special gift of a powerful spiritual cleansing, a potent offering from a higher power, Jody couldn’t be more grateful for the tranquility it produced.
Thankful for the peaceful intervention, she relaxed for the first time since Fiona’s appearance. Even though this gift of conversing with spirits tended to be a strain on her emotions, she recognized the benefits it had given to many people over the course of her life.
“Okay. I admit it,” speaking to her personal spirit guides who were always around offering guidance and support. “There are those special times when the living gives me the chance to speak for those that have passed. When that happens, I do see and feel the inspiration their deceased loved one’s words have for them.” Continuing to speak out loud, her convictions for helping others in her own unique way strengthened. “It’s been my experience that messages from those long gone seem to transform the debilitating grief of the living into a sense of peace.”
She couldn’t let it go at that, though, and felt duty bound to voice her displeasure over the events that had just occurred. “Still, to send me this child in the middle of the night is cruel for both of us.
“There’s nothing I can do to help her or her family at this moment. I have no idea who she is or who her people are. I beg of you, please don’t put me through this family’s grief for any longer than necessary. When I’m out in public, if I see Fiona standing next to her mother or father, I’ll approach them, just as I’ve done for every other spirit. You have my word.”
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