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Roxanne’s Ghost Saga<\/strong><\/em>, a new mystery series from internationally acclaimed author Maggie Tideswell, is set\u202fagainst the stunningly beautiful backdrop of modern day South Africa. It is a compelling ghost story of identical twin sisters\u2019 love for the same man, and the magical connection the women share.<\/p>\n And the theme? \u202fNothing is what it seems.<\/p>\n Here, we move into the realms of the mists of time that could either reveal or conceal.<\/p>\n Book 1, Goodbye, My Love<\/strong><\/em>, sets the scene. It introduces country vet, Ben, his four-year-old autistic daughter and the would-be nanny, Jessica James. Jess\u2019 interview with Ben for the nanny position takes place on Friday the 13th.\u202fAn attraction between the two is immediate, which by all accounts isn’t entirely normal. His daughter, diagnosed as autistic, only sometimes does she display the symptoms that led to her diagnosis. Autism is not a disease, it’s a condition. A condition with symptoms that can’t be turned on and off at will. So\u2026what is the child really suffering from?<\/p>\n Ben’s wife’s twin sister, Millicent, is accompanied by an overboard caricature of a psychic to Ben’s home in order to help them find Roxanne. Of course, Millicent isn’t happy to find Jess already in Ben’s house\u2014trouble is imminent. But only as far as Ben’s ancient housekeeper, will allow her to. What does the housekeeper know that will keep Millicent’s ruffled feathers under control?<\/p>\n More importantly\u2026<\/p>\n Where is Roxanne?<\/p>\n Does anyone live here?<\/em><\/p>\n The house looked deserted, kind of spooky. Jess couldn\u2019t see any other houses nearby. Sally had not been kidding\u2014this was a rather isolated place.<\/p>\n Dilapidated outbuildings behind the sprawling house looked as unused as the house itself. Some sort of creeper covered most of the buildings except the house\u2014it looked far too fragile to bear the added weight.<\/p>\n There were what looked like turrets on each end of the house, and a domed one in between. That might be a skylight. Jess worried her bottom lip. What century was this place built?<\/p>\n Lightning played over the majestic mountains behind the house, silhouetting it against the darkening sky, but down here in the valley, the late sun cast long shadows over the overgrown garden.<\/p>\n It all fit so well with Friday the thirteenth because this was creepy. What had she been thinking? She should have postponed the interview until Monday. One weekend surely wouldn\u2019t have made that much of a difference.<\/p>\n Jess studied the map on her tablet, which she held propped up against the steering wheel. This could be the right place, but she had thought that about both the previous two places, and neither had turned out to be Weltevreden. Neither had been as eerie as this place, either.<\/p>\n No, this couldn\u2019t be it. Tapping her finger against the edge of the tablet, she studied the house again. This whole thing smacked of a Friday the thirteenth Sally-prank.<\/p>\n Sally, her bestie since high school, ran a very successful employment agency. The professional image notwithstanding, she still loved pranks of any kind\u2014she would never outgrow them.<\/p>\n Her eyes had lit up that morning when Jess sat in front of her desk, mugs of coffee steaming on the polished wood between them. The platter of doughnuts had been for Jess\u2019 benefit. Sally and her perpetual dieting.<\/p>\n \u201cSomething different,\u201d Sally mused, tapping her pen against her front teeth, then pressed a button on her laptop, and reached for the sheet of paper the printer spewed out. \u201cThis might be just the thing. It came in just now.\u201d She\u2019d tossed her platinum curls over her shoulder, grinning at Jess.<\/p>\n Another thing Sally would never outgrow, her Barbie-doll looks. Neither Sally nor Jess had found their Mr. Full Potential yet, although both had been ready for wedded bliss, the kids and the house in the suburbs thing, a long time ago.<\/p>\n \u201cAs a matter of fact it does, but he doesn\u2019t seem to be in the market. It says here that a nanny is required for a four-year-old autistic girl. Dr. Arnold specifically requested that only older women be put forward for the position.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow old-fashioned. Where is this job?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn the Wellington area.\u201d Sally frowned at the monitor.<\/p>\n \u201cThere you go. He won\u2019t find anybody qualified to work that far from Cape Town. It is his child, I presume?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt is, but do you seriously want to give this a go?\u201d Sally looked worried as only she could. It went with the Barbie look. \u201cI\u2019m intrigued. What kind of doctor is he?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA veterinary surgeon. And a widower, it says here. That is all the information I have for you, I\u2019m afraid.\u201d Sally sat back in her chair. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t disregard so specific an instruction, Jess, but just this once, I\u2019ll make an exception. Then it\u2019s up to you to change his mind for him. It\u2019ll be in his own best interest in the end.\u201d She passed an information sheet across the desk. \u201cI\u2019ll tell Dr. Arnold to expect you at four. I\u2019d pack an overnight bag if I were you. Call me, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n Now, sitting in front of the house that might or might not belong to Dr. Ben Arnold, Jess didn\u2019t feel all that confident anymore. And it didn\u2019t really sound like a prank unless Sally had kept some information to herself.<\/p>\n There was only one way to find out, and that was to knock on the door and ask.<\/p>\n If there was anybody in the house to ask.<\/p>\n Switching the engine off, she consulted the rear-view mirror to apply some color to her lips and pat her shoulder-length bob into place. She took a moment to admire the rich auburn color in the late afternoon sunshine and sighed.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know about this. It was a long way from Cape Town. Trying her best to ignore the goose bumps on her forearms, she opened the car door and stepped out. Her heels sank into the gravel, her shadow stretching all the way back to the gate.<\/p>\n Only when she turned toward the house did she see the man sitting on the top step in the shadows, his shoulder against the railing, one knee pulled up with his arm resting on top of it. He wasn\u2019t wearing a shirt, and it looked as if his feet were bare, too.<\/p>\n Was he there a moment ago? Why didn\u2019t I see him?<\/p>\n Smoothing her palms down her red pencil skirt, she started toward the house and the man on the steps. If he wasn\u2019t Dr. Arnold, maybe he could give her directions.<\/p>\n Taking a deep breath, Jess reminded herself that she wasn\u2019t superstitious about this Friday the thirteenth nonsense. People liked to scare themselves with the silliest things. What was supposed to happen on this day? It was a day like any other.<\/p>\n That certainly looked like a real man on the steps. He wasn\u2019t going to bite her. Today being a Friday and the thirteenth meant nothing, but now that she\u2019d thought of it, the idea would stick with her like the taste of garlic.<\/p>\n Leaving the car door open for a quick escape should she need it, she\u2019d gone no more than a few steps when she heard something other than the crunch of her shoes on the gravel. It sounded suspiciously like a dog whining.<\/p>\n She slowly turned her head, curling her fingers into the fabric of her skirt. It couldn\u2019t be a dog. She hadn\u2019t seen any dogs when she drove through the gate.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t do dogs!<\/p>\n Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw them. They were right next to her car, beside the door she\u2019d deliberately left open, a whole pack of them. Their lips curled away from their teeth, their tongues lolling out the sides of their mouths, dripping saliva onto the gravel. Yellowish eyes watched every move she made.<\/p>\n Where did they come from?<\/p>\n How many were there?<\/p>\n They cut her off from the safety of the Fiesta!<\/p>\n Now she had only one way to go\u2014into that house. Why hadn\u2019t that man called them off? Why wasn\u2019t he helping her?<\/p>\n Slowly, making no sudden moves, she took another step toward the porch. The dogs followed her. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Another couple of quick steps toward the house. The dogs did the same. She broke into a trot, her scream shattered the still of the afternoon.<\/p>\n Missing the first step, she stumbled, recovered her balance, and took the rest of the stairs two at a time. The dogs were on her heels, whining and yelping, their breaths hot on the backs of her legs. He lifted his head off the floorboards to glare at her, his hands at her waist, as if he was about to lift her off him. Stubble covered his jaw, his lips pressed into a tight line. A muscle jumped in his cheek. He dragged his eyes out of her gaping blouse to meet her stare.<\/p>\n They had to be the greenest pair of eyes she\u2019d ever seen, and he was clearly not amused.<\/p>\n Then she noticed how much leg was exposed by her skirt bunched around her hips and she quickly scrambled to her feet, pushing her skirt back down her legs.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry,\u201d she muttered, her face on fire. She couldn\u2019t bring herself to look at him, but from the corner of her eye, she saw the stranger slowly unfold himself from the floor. Up and up he went until she felt him looking down at her. Even in her heels, the top of her head barely reached his nose.<\/p>\n With fists on his hips, he glared at her. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she lifted her chin and stared back.<\/p>\n Despite her bravado, she was intimidated and she had no idea if she had reason to be. She didn\u2019t have a clue who he was. For all she knew, he was a vagrant taking advantage of an abandoned house. Jess swallowed with difficulty, forcing her eyes to the garden. Maybe he was the gardener or something.<\/p>\n If he was the gardener, he wasn\u2019t very good at it, judging by the state of the place. The flower beds were overgrown with weeds, and grass seeds reached for the sky. With a bit of care, it could be a rather pleasant garden.<\/p>\n Her attention whipped back to the man when he spoke. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with you, woman? Those are lap dogs.\u201d His voice was deep, the timbre vibrating on her skin. \u201cThey thought you were playing with them.\u201d<\/p>\n She\u2019d forgotten about the dogs. Erections did that to her, they made her forget everything else. She took another look at the animals. There were only four of them, and now that they were at a safe distance and there was a man on hand whom they seemed to obey, they didn\u2019t look all that fierce, or even very big. By panicking, she\u2019d unnecessarily gotten them both in a rather embarrassing situation. \u201cBless you,\u201d the man said, his jaw clenched. \u201cExplain yourself.\u201d Fists planted on his hips, his bare chest rose and fell. Jess\u2019 fingers itched to test the contours more fully before she realized that the man was actually angry.<\/p>\n Who was he? And what was he so angry about? Knocking him over had been an accident, which he could have avoided it if he\u2019d controlled the animals sooner. His annoyance didn\u2019t stop him from giving her a thorough inspection, though.<\/p>\n Barely suppressing the urge to stamp her foot, Jess snapped, \u201cThose animals should be locked up.\u201d The hand she pointed at the dogs was streaked with dust. Dropping it, she rubbed at the smudge with her other hand.<\/p>\n \u201cThey were, until a few minutes ago. When the visitor I expected didn\u2019t show up, I let them out again. Who are you and what do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow rude!\u201d Jess gasped. \u201cDo you welcome all visitors half naked?\u201d His arousal was disturbing her.<\/p>\n \u201cUninvited visitors never come into the yard,\u201d he growled. He knew she knew about his condition. \u201cThat\u2019s what the clinic entrance is for. And I\u2019m not half naked, I\u2019m shirtless because I took it off when my visitor failed to show up for her four o\u2019clock appointment. In case you haven\u2019t noticed, it\u2019s hot. If you\u2019re Jessica James, you\u2019re way too late\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe directions weren\u2019t very clear,\u201d she interrupted. \u201cI got lost.\u201d Hesitating only a moment, she stuck her hand out to him. \u201cYou\u2019re Dr. Arnold?\u201d<\/p>\n He ignored her hand and question, reaching instead for the shirt draped over the railing behind him and shrugged it on. Doctor or not, the man has no manners.<\/p>\n Buttoning the shirt, he leaned in closer. \u201cSo, it\u2019s my fault you can\u2019t follow a set of simple instructions? Look, miss, you might as well go back to wherever you came from. The position has been filled. Good day.\u201d He started to turn away.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat? When? I had an interview for this afternoon!\u201d<\/p>\n He glanced at his wristwatch. \u201cYou missed the appointment. You wouldn\u2019t have gotten the job anyway. Sorry for the inconvenience. It was nice meeting you. Goodbye, Ms. James.\u201d<\/p>\n She noticed his eyes on her lips as he dismissed her. \u201cJust a minute. You\u2019re going to disregard my application because I\u2019m a few minutes late? I have excellent credentials, and the agency\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHad been told that only older women need to apply.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo you\u2019re dismissing my application because of my age, is that it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. And you\u2019re more than a few minutes late. The appointment was for four o\u2019clock sharp, and it\u2019s nearly six now. Take your gripes up with your agent, Ms. James. Your timekeeping actually has very little to do with it. Now, if you\u2019ll excuse me, you\u2019re wasting my time.\u201d<\/p>\n Jess narrowed her eyes. \u201cI pity the person you\u2019ve employed, if that is in fact the truth. You are a very rude man, Dr. Arnold.\u201d<\/p>\n He wasn\u2019t exactly what she\u2019d expected\u2014in his early to mid-thirties and attractive, in a wildly blond caveman kind of way. And hot.<\/p>\n If only he had some manners.<\/p>\n It had sounded quite romantic when Sally first told her about this position, but the reality was far from romantic. She didn\u2019t need this man or his job, and especially not his erection. There had to be other positions available in Cape Town. Sally would find her a good job, with interesting work. She would get into her car and drive away without a backward glance.<\/p>\n Not being given a fair interview had nothing to do with Friday the thirteenth. A damp gust of wind blew her hair into her eyes as she turned toward the stairs. It had everything to do with him being turned on by her.<\/p>\n Jess remembered the dogs when they jumped to their feet, tails wagging.<\/p>\n She froze, clutching her skirt. They might be small, but they were dogs. They had teeth. Damn it, she was going to need his help to get back to her car. Gnawing the corner of her mouth, she glanced at him. Would he help her, or would he cross his arms and enjoy the spectacle from the veranda?<\/p>\n Before she could do anything, the door behind them creaked open and pale, gnarled fingers curled around the edge of the wood. Jess took an involuntary step closer to the doctor, goosebumps covering her entire body, her hand to her throat. Oh, God.<\/p>\n http:\/\/tinyurl.com\/n2ko8u4<\/a><\/p>\n Maggie lives in Johannesburg, South Africa with hubby Gareth. Over the years she\u2019s worked in everything from nursing to catering, and then she started writing love stories. With three kids, a girl and two boys, and eleven cats at that time, life could become quite interesting.<\/p>\n The paranormal, things that happen for which there are no logical explanations and ghosts, are of particular interest to Maggie. What events in a person\u2019s life would prevent that person from \u2018resting\u2019 after death? The \u2018Old Religion\u2019 is another special interest.<\/p>\n And love, of course. Why do people fall in love? What keeps them together for a lifetime when so many relationships fail?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Goodbye, My Love ~ About Roxanne’s Ghost Saga, a new mystery series from internationally acclaimed author Maggie Tideswell, is set\u202fagainst the stunningly beautiful backdrop of modern day South Africa. It is a compelling ghost story of identical twin sisters\u2019 love for the same man, and the magical connection the women share. And the theme? \u202fNothing … Continue reading GOODBYE, MY LOVE ~ Roxanne’s Ghost Saga Book 1 ~ by Maggie Tideswell<\/span>
\nBen’s three oddball sisters-in-law descend on him for the anniversary of his wife Roxanne’s death. They try to convince Ben that Roxanne isn’t dead, more than likely to put an end to whatever might develop between Ben and Jessica. But Ben knows that no one could have survived what led to Roxanne\u2019s death.<\/p>\nGoodbye, My Love ~ Excerpt<\/span><\/h2>\n
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\n\u201cIt has my name on it, then.\u201d Jess leaned her forearms on Sally\u2019s desk. \u201cTell me, tell me, tell me.\u201d She grinned back, barely able to contain her excitement. \u201cDoes it involve a man?\u201d<\/p>\n
\nWhat did people do around here for fun?<\/p>\n
\nJust as a sharp whistle rent the air, but looking at the dogs, she careened into the man before the noise had even died down. Her momentum sent them both crashing to the floorboard. She landed on top of him, but with the dogs all around them, she hid her face in his neck. Another whistle\u2014 right in her ear\u2014made her cringe, but the dogs were gone.<\/p>\n
\nShe quickly looked him up and down, hoping he wouldn\u2019t notice. A vagrant\u2014looking like that? This man looked too strong, too well-fed, and clean, to be homeless. He smelled good too, of soap and sunshine. Wide shoulders tapered to a flat stomach and slim hips in a pair of well-washed denim cutoffs. The button was undone and the zipped half down. And he had a hard-on!<\/p>\n
\nThe veranda was shadowed, despite the lightning dancing over the mountains, yet the peeling paint was clearly visible. She should ask this man for directions so that she could be on her way, but at that moment her nose itched and she sneezed instead. She just barely managed to get her hand across her nose. The dust from the floorboards and she most likely had it all over her face now. She needed to freshen up before she met with Dr. Arnold. Rubbing her hands over her face was probably making matters worse.<\/p>\nBUY LINK<\/span><\/h2>\n
About the Author<\/span><\/h2>\n
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