Excerpt from "The Haunting of Amelia Pritchart" by Sandra Sookoo

Blurb:
Amelia Pritchart's life is a mess. Her house is crumbling down around her, she's got a bad case of writer's block, and divorce papers await her signature. The trouble is, she still loves her husband.

And if that's not bad enough, she comes face to face with a ghost--who has problems of her own. The restless spirit demands Amelia help her tormented soul so she can finally rest in peace. Intrigued, Amelia sets out to grant the wish, but soon finds there's much more to the ghost than just being dead.

When her estranged husband shows up on her doorstep on Halloween, Amelia must face two pasts, both full of pain. Can she help the ghost without becoming eternally haunted? And can she face her own fears and insecurities about her marriage in order to grasp the second chance at happiness her husband offers?

Excerpt:
“Tomorrow is All Hallow’s Eve. At the stroke of midnight, ghosts that have been unable to pass from the mortal world are allowed to assume their human body for 24 hours. In that time period, we are instructed to make peace with those issues that are preventing us from moving forward.”

“What does that have to do with me?” She frowned when Elizabeth’s form began to fade.

“It’s becoming difficult for me to see you.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I find that allowing myself to be seen by human eyes takes a good amount of energy on my part. I need to rest. Before I go, I would like you to find a descendant of Samuel’s. I need to confess my secret. Please help me.”

“I’ll try.” Amelia scrambled for the small notepad and pencil on her bedside table. “What’s Samuel’s full name? I won’t be able to hunt down his family without that information.” She set aside the incredible fact she was conversing with a ghost.

“Samuel Pritchart Carmichael. Please do your best, Amelia. My hope is resting on you.”

Amelia blinked, and her shiver this time had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. “Pritchart? But that’s impossible.” Her stomach threatened to revolt at the familiar name. Before she could question the specter further, the ghost evaporated into the darkness with a soft sigh. “Elizabeth?”

Leaving the safe harbor of her bed, Amelia padded across the creaky hardwood floor. As she inspected the chair for signs that the ghost really had visited, she passed a hand through the air before her. The ghost left no evidence of her visit.

How could she possibly help a woman who died 90 years ago?