ABOUT THIS FAB NOVEL
Abigail
Bender lost her only love at Gettysburg in 1863. One hundred and
fifty years later Kaitlyn Novacs, teetering on the edge of a
breakdown after the loss of her one love, encounters Abigail’s
spirit in a quaint Canadian inn. There’s a connection between these
women, Kaitlyn feels it the first moment she sees the ghost but
refuses to admit it. She is forced to accept how closely her fate
mirrors the ghost’s when through Abigail’s window she witnesses
the ghost’s life and death. Still, there’s a secret Abigail
withholds from Kaitlyn. Will discovering that secret come too late to
save Kaitlyn from Abigail’s fate?
WHAT
READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ABIGAILS WINDOW!
May
16, 2019
Format:
Kindle Edition
even in
this digital age there is nothing to compare then picking up a book
like Abigail’s window sitting in a comfortable chair on a rainy day
with a hot beverage by your side and immersing yourself into a story
that grips you from the beginning until the very end. A little
history a little romance a little intrigue everything that you want
to get away from the Monday and world that we are in I’m so glad
that I let Abigail‘s window Take me away for a little while and I
can’t wait for Susan Solomon’s next book to do the same thank you
Susan please keep writing
July
13, 2019
Format:
PaperbackVerified Purchase
Ghosts,
history and the power of love. Something for everyone. Buy it, cry a
little, smile a lot
WANT A
SNEAK PEAK ?
Chapter One
Face
in the Window
As
I stepped from the rental car, I saw the lace curtains pulled aside
in a second floor window. I felt eyes stare down at me. My jaw
dropped. Had it followed me here?
Ronnie Hoffmann
glanced at me over the roof of the car. “What’s wrong now?”
she said.
I stood, blinking.
With a shrug, she
turned to Andrea O’Rourke, who popped the trunk and lifted out our
suitcases.
When I looked again
at the window I saw a woman, but not quite a woman. She appeared to
be… transparent. Shuddering, I turned my back to the house.
“Yeah, I’m cold
too, Katy. Get your suitcase.” Ronnie took off her thick-rimmed
glasses and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. Though only in
her early thirties, her long black hair showed streaks of gray.
I wrapped my heavy
coat tight around my chest but didn’t move. I hadn’t wanted to
come to Niagara-on-the-Lake, hadn’t wanted to leave my apartment.
After what I’d been through, I never wanted to venture out again.
Ronnie had refused to let me become a hermit.
“You waiting for
April when the snow melts?” she called to me.
I lifted my eyes to
the window. The curtains were closed. Feeling as though the woman
continued to watch me, I shrank back against the car door.
“Somebody’s… up there.”
Andrea clicked her
tongue.
“Another ghost?”
Ronnie slammed the car trunk closed. “The Niagara Inn isn’t any
more haunted than your apartment.”
My friend knew what
haunted me. She had helped to pull me through a breakdown seven years
ago. She didn’t believe a ghost caused it then, and didn’t
believe one pushed me toward the edge this time.
I pointed to the
window. “Don’t you see her?”
Ronnie didn’t
bother to look. “Probably another guest.”
The stiff Lake
Ontario wind had turned Andrea’s face almost as red as her hair.
Looking around the empty parking lot, she said, “Can’t be another
guest. No one but us is stupid enough to travel in this weather.”
She hefted her suitcase. “Yap out here if you want. I’m going
inside.”
Shivering, I
examined the bed and breakfast Ronnie had brought me to for a long,
girls-only weekend. Pale behind the falling snow and surrounded by
skeletons of azalea bushes and a row of evergreen hedges, the Niagara
Inn rose two stories above what appeared to be an ancient brick
foundation.
“Come on, come on.
I’m about to turn into an icicle,”
Andrea complained.
“More like a
cherry popsicle,” Ronnie said.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Our redheaded friend turned and stomped off through the snow.
The wind rushed up
to encircle me. In its howl, I heard a familiar laugh. This
disembodied sound had chased me since my teenage years. I looked at
our car, now coated with a thin layer of snow. I had an urgent desire
to get in, drive back across the border to the Buffalo airport and
fly home to Manhattan. Though the laughter also haunted me there, at
least in familiar surroundings I could almost ignore it.
While I thought
about fleeing, the lake wind pushed me toward the house. I held fast.
Ronnie grabbed the
sleeve of my black faux-fur coat. “Come on!”
I pulled away. “I
can’t… the laugh.”
“You’re hearing
it again?”
I nodded.
She took me by the
shoulders. “You’re not being haunted, Katy. What you hear is just
in your head. How many times do I have to tell you that? Now get
inside before we both get sick.”
When I still
resisted, she gave me a tight-lipped stare—her way of saying,
Kaitlyn Novacs, get over yourself.
“Ken and I were
here for our anniversary five years ago,” she said. “This is a
beautiful place, not some crappy dump with cobwebs your warped mind
is turning it into. Now move!”
I gritted my teeth
and took a deep breath. Nothing
in this house could be worse than what I’ve been through,
I thought.
The wind howled
again, louder this time. It might have been telling me, You
think so?
Ronnie’s grin
wrinkled her eyes. “What an expression. You look like an Eskimo
searching for the nearest dogsled. Wanna rub noses?”
I grabbed a handful
of snow from a bush and flung it at her. Then, feeling a rush of
warmth for my best and sometimes only friend, I hugged her.
“Yeah, yeah, I
love you too,” she said. “Now can we get out of this storm?”
With her hand
propelling me forward, I slogged through drifting snow from the
parking lot to the Niagara Inn’s door where Andrea O’Rourke
waited.
WHERE TO
BUY ABIGAILS WINDOW
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