I wasn't supposed to end up dead. But here I am.
It all started the day that I met him. I was drawn in by his good looks and mysterious ways. And sex. Yes, sex. He was hot and I admit, my carnal nature took over and I went with the ride. His ride. He was scary too. If I had a second chance, I'd pay more attention to that.
I don't suppose I get a second chance?” I asked no one in particular. So far, I had not experienced or seen anyone since … you know … dead.
I must be, because I can't move my hands, feet or even see my body. There is just this cloud that seems to surround me. I keep waving my hand, the hand I can't see or feel, hoping to clear it away but so far, it is a wasted effort.
I figure I am no longer breathing or living because you know, I'm not. Crazy, huh? I wish I could undo it. The last thing I remember was being stuffed in the trunk, after being knifed.
He was not a nice guy and in hindsight I wish I had not been drawn in by his good looks…or the other thing…that hold he seemed to have put over me, like unseen puppet strings controlled by the puppet master.
I missed the red flags that were blatantly waving in my face– blindness caused by my hunger to feed my carnal appetite, until it was too late. The knowledge he offered had me begging for more, electrifying every nerve in my body. I have no idea where that might be now since I have no sense of a body. But I already told you that.
So yes, I gave into temptation and silenced the blaring warning signals, until it was too late.
Silly me. I can see my grandfather’s look of disapproval. It would probably be more a look of horror at the trouble I’d gotten myself into. And Luke…I am so sorry. I hope that one day, you’ll be able to forgive me.
If I had it to do all over again … well, I guess repeating myself wouldn’t change a damn thing. And just for the record, being knifed, is not fun. Seeing my blood spill to the ground, painting it red, then covering the bottom of a trunk, nope definitely not a good thing.
And to think … I’d just found the treasure and understood what it meant, along with the responsibility of protecting it from those whose only desire was to covet it.
Like the one who put me here.
Catherine was obsessed with finding the letter, which would lead her to finding the treasure. She was sure that it would take care of all their financial woes and save the farm that had been in her family for generations. What she didn't know, was that there was someone else out there who was looking possess the treasure. The kind of person you would not want to meet, even in the light of day. The kind those who love you, warn you to stay clear of. Yet there was something that drew her to him. Would she risk losing the man who did love her, for the devil himself?
Another Catherine, who had walked the same path, watched over her, determined to do whatever she could to protect her beloved namesake. If only she could figure out how to get past the whole ghost thing.
About the Author
Kathy Almeida is a creative artist. She lives in Belleview, Florida on a small farm with her husband, family and animals (1 dog, 3 cats, 7 cows, 1 donkey, and 1 very bossy goat). She's writes, paints, and crafts-inspired by her love of life. 'Catherine's Story' is her 5th novel and 6th book. kathysunnysstory.com is her website.