For years Cottonwood Hill has loomed above the town of Oak Grove, abandoned but not forgotten, sleeping silently while keeping its secrets well hidden from prying eyes. Of course, nothing can sleep forever unless dead and Cottonwood Hill is far from dying. It lies dormant, waiting to awaken. Its time has come…
 

It’s a stroke of luck when Kelli Masters inherits the bulk of the Cottonwood Hill estate from a great aunt that she never knew existed. Determined not to look back, she and her daughter arrive at the house on the hill and vow to stay—no matter what. It doesn’t take long before their resolve to stay is shaken. Buried bones, ghostly images, and haunted closets are just the tip of the iceberg. Will Kelli and Sheriff Glen Westfall, the man she is determined not to be attracted to, be able to solve the mystery of the ancient estate or will they become part of it? Just who is stronger—the people who inhabit the estate or Cottonwood Hill itself?

Excerpt:

     She jumped, then turned toward the voice. Her heart skipped a beat. He was tall, blond and had a smile that would blind you. He was also wearing a police uniform. "Is there something wrong with being from the city?" she asked. She didn't know why but his comment had felt like an insult. Plus, ever since Brian's death, she had an aversion to police uniforms.

      The deputy placed three cans of soup and a loaf of bread on the counter. "I didn't say there was anything wrong with it. I was just making an observation." He looked her straight in the eye.

      She felt as if she were being challenged. If this good ol' boy thought he could intimidate her, standing there in his starched, clean uniform with a sparkle in his eye—eyes that were such a crisp, clear blue that you could drown in them—well, he had another think coming.

      Little had moved behind the counter and started ringing up the man's purchase. "That be all for you, Glen?"

      "Yep," he said, still daring Kelly with his eyes. To Kelly, he said, "I'm sorry if you took offense at my comment, Ms. Masters, but I have found that most people who come from the city are a little suspicious."

      "Suspicious? I'm not suspicious." Her ire rose. "It's not every day that people take the time to do something nice for someone they don't even know."

      "That's my point—you can't take it for what it is. Someone doing something nice. Most city people think if someone does something nice for them, they either have to pay for it or there are other strings attached."

      Kelly put a hand on her hip. "I can too take it for what it is."

      "Can not."

      "Can too." Heat crept into her face. This is ridiculous.

      Glen grinned widely. "Truce?" He stuck out a large hand. "I'm Glen Westfall."

      She shook his hand by reflex. His handshake was warm, firm, and engulfed her own hand. Her palm tingled at his touch. Thankfully, the handshake didn't last too long. Her face was probably red enough already. "Kelly Masters."

      "Nice to meet you." He released her hand.

      "You know," Kelly said, "being neighborly is one thing, imposing is another. Especially when your neighbors have never met you."

      He lifted his sack of groceries from the counter. "It may take some time, but I think you'll get used to the neighborly way we live around here. It's definitely not like living in the city. People do things for each other in this neck of the woods. No strings attached." He nodded at Little, and headed out the door before Kelly could snap back at him.

      Her nerves jangled, already on edge from the drive and now from the slight confrontation with a cop. What kind of person did Deputy Westfall think she was? She just felt a bit taken aback by the Joneses keeping the store open for her, that's all. Things like that didn't happen where she came from. She would like to give Glen Westfall a piece of her mind. She wiped a hand across her face, feeling the stress of the move creep up her back and into her shoulders.