New Release by L. A. Kelley
Enchanted clothing has a mind of its own.
Charlotte Becker had a restless spirit. Unable to settle
down, she moved from place to place searching for an elusive something. A
sudden invitation from her sister sends her across country to Sentinel Landing,
North Carolina. Anchors abound by the sea, but surely nothing would keep her
rooted in place in a pokey resort town during the off-season.
Drawn into a consignment shop named One Enchanted Evening,
Charlotte is confronted by a mysterious article of clothing requesting her help
to stop a man in a wolf mask from killing women. To protect the citizens of
Sentinel Landing, she must find the hunter before an innocent is slain.
Luke Maddox’s hunting days are over. Wounded in action, he
left the Marines to return to Sentinel Landing and start a quiet life. Then he
meets a singular young woman wearing an unusual cloak. She tells an incredible
story of a wolf that walks on two legs.
Excerpt
Annabel stopped short and stared at a weathered bungalow set
back from the path and surrounded by vegetation. A hand-lettered sign in bright
colors over the front door read One Enchanted Evening.
“That’s strange,” she said. “I don’t remember this here
before. It’s not the best location. The front doors of other shops face
Periwinkle, but this faces the path. The owner needs to do heavy landscaping.
Why, a potential customer can barely see the building thru the trees and
shrubbery. With foot traffic nearly nonexistent, tourists will only discover it
accidentally, and that’s where places like this make most of their money.”
“If it’s new, maybe the owner hasn’t gotten around to
clearing the brush yet,” said Charlotte.
Annabel’s eyes lit up with the same feral gleam of a lion
stalking a clueless antelope grazing on the savannah. “It might be an antiques
store. Let’s go inside and check it out.”
Charlotte regarded the drawn curtains in the windows with
doubt. “I don’t think it’s open yet.”
“I see a sign on the door,” said Annabel. “Maybe it posts
the hours.”
Charlotte followed her to the porch. “By appointment only,”
she read aloud. Without hesitation, Annabel lifted her hand to knock.
“You’re awfully nervy for a pregnant woman,” sputtered
Charlotte. “Need I say, neither one of us has an appointment.”
“Oh, zip it. I’ll simply ask for one when they open the
door. Meanwhile you and I will sneak a peek inside. I’m always searching for
new places with unusual stuff to keep me one jump ahead of the competition.”
She jabbed her in the shoulder. “Where’s that baby sister of mine who used to
have the monopoly on gumption in the family?”
“Sorry,” said Charlotte with a tinge of regret. “I’m fresh
out.”
Annabel knocked. From inside came a faint shuffling sound
and then the click of a key turning in a lock. The door swung open. Charlotte
gaped at the elderly woman on the threshold. Small and plump with a wizened
face, she wore a brightly printed muslin skirt and peasant blouse. Her wrinkled
face resembled the old-timey dried apple dolls found at craft fairs. The purple
bandana on her head was rimmed with burnished gold coins that jingled when she
moved. The only light inside appeared to come from the open door. Behind her,
barely visible in the dim interior, were several large armoires and bureaus. Annabel
squinted. Charlotte practically heard the whirling gears in her sister’s mind
calculating the wholesale price of each piece.
Annabel dug into her purse and offered a business card.
“Hello. I’m Annabel Fisher of Fisher Designs. Welcome to Sentinel Landing. My
husband, Sean, and I run a local interior design and renovation company and I’m
always in the market for new items.” She peered over the woman’s shoulder at a
piece of furniture standing by the door and gasped. “Is that a rosewood
armoire? I swear it’s 1880s French, but I’ve never seen one in such exceptional
condition.”
“I’m very sorry,” said the woman pleasantly, ignoring the
card. “This store deals in used clothing by appointment only. The furniture is
for storage.”
“I’ll offer a very good price.”
“No, thank you.”
The woman’s gaze raked across Charlotte. Sharp brown eyes,
bright as a ferret’s, caught her in an unblinking stare.
“Um, hi,” said Charlotte, suddenly feeling as if she had
walked out of her apartment without pants. Unconsciously, she ran her hand down
her sides, relieved to touch denim.
“Oh? A consignment shop?” chirped Annabel. “May we poke
around? My sister and I love vintage wear,” she added with her winning smile.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. Annabel never gave up easily.
She’d have that woman arm-wrestling over a price for that armoire before she
spit out, “interior designer discount.”
“Your life is complete, Mrs. Fisher,” said the shop owner
pleasantly. “Nothing in here will fit.”
Amused, Charlotte noted for once Annabel was at a complete
loss for words. The coins on the woman’s scarf jangled as her head swung toward
her. Charlotte swallowed hard as the pants-less feeling crept up her legs
again.
“You, however, have definite possibilities,” the woman said.
“The path traveled can be diverted. Come back when you’re ready to accept the
consequences. I warn you, though; the steps to fulfilling one’s destiny can be
unexpected and dangerous. Good day.” She shut the door in their faces.
Annabel stared in disbelief. “Heck of a way to run a
business. She’s not going to last long in Sentinel Landing with that attitude.”
She took Charlotte’s arm. “Come on, I know a fabulous little boutique around
the corner that sells dynamite shoes. It’s right on the way.”
As Charlotte allowed herself to be led down the street, she
glanced over her shoulder at One Enchanted Evening. The curtains remain closed.
It appeared as vacant as before. But an eerie suspicion crept through Charlotte
that on the other side of those obscured windows a mysterious old woman in a
jangly kerchief peered intently in her direction.
