Midlife Spirits

Looking for a fresh start, I just became the proud owner of a piece of New Orleans history: an Antebellum-era two-story house in the Garden District. It's going to take time and a fat wallet to restore the fixer-upper to its former glory, but after my recent divorce, I could use the distraction. And a stiff drink, but that's another story . . . It's not long before I discover I've moved into the haunted house of the flirtatious and very much dead, Drake Montague. Now I'm receiving kisses from unseen lips and caresses from ghostly hands.

In an attempt to cleanse whatever entity Trina and I let into my house after our bout with a Ouija board, things have only gotten worse. When the entity begins to sap Drake's strength, I realize I have to do something and that something needs to be done now . . . While Drake does definitely drive me crazy with his pretentious airs, his womanizing ways and his jealousy, the idea of coming home to an empty house leaves me feeling . . . well, empty. Yes, it's true—I'm pretty fond of my ghostly Casanova.

After agreeing to let the spirit of Drake Montague inhabit my body (probably not one of my better ideas), I soon discover the twentieth-century French policeman may be dead, but his lothario longings sure aren't. Now I have to find a way to explain to my sweet, sexy, and very alive boyfriend, Ryan Kelly, that a spirit has taken up residence in my head, whispering French words of affection day and night. And, ahem, French is a pretty . . . sexy language.