Pages and premonitions, p.1
Pages and Premonitions, page 1
PAGES AND PREMONITIONS
A SPELLBOUND BOOKSHOP PARANORMAL COZY MYSTERY
BOOK 1
J. A. WHITING
Copyright 2024 J.A. Whiting and Whitemark Publishing
Cover copyright 2024 Signifer Book Design
Formatting by Signifer Book Design
Proofreading by Donna Rich (donnarich@me.com) and Riann Kohrs (www.riannkohrs.com)
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Thank you for reading!
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1
The scent of freshly baked blueberry muffins wafted through the apartment above the cozy bookshop as Shelby Price hurried to get ready for the start of her workday. As the owner and proprietor of Spellbound Books in the charming New England town of Hamlet, Massachusetts, Shelby always liked to have warm treats waiting for her customers when she unlocked the front door at 8:00 am. She hummed to herself as she got dressed and brushed her long, brown hair, pausing to give her cat Harper an affectionate scratch behind the ears before heading downstairs with the tray of muffins.
The striped gray and white Maine Coon lazily stretched and followed the young woman down the staircase and into the shop, knowing that customers would be arriving soon and many of them would shower the cat with attention. Shelby smiled. Harper was as popular as some of the new bestsellers on display.
She tidied up the already neat and welcoming store, plumping pillows on the overstuffed chairs by the fireplace, arranging the muffins on the counter, and starting pots of coffee.
Spellbound Books occupied a prime location on Hamlet's picturesque Main Street surrounded by other local businesses like Bread and Roses Bakery, The Quilted Heart Fabric Shop, and Maggie's Candle Company. Shelby had dreamed of owning her own bookstore in her hometown since she was a little girl. After graduating from Boston University with a degree in literature and business, she had scrimped and saved every penny to make her dream a reality, and two years ago, at the age of twenty-five, she had done just that.
Owning a bookshop in the age of eBooks and online retail was a risky venture, but Shelby loved the tactile joy of print books and the serendipity of discoveries found browsing packed shelves. She focused on stocking a wide variety of titles from current fiction to cookbooks to children's stories and hosted interesting author events and book clubs. Her gamble paid off - Spellbound Books now enjoyed a loyal, local customer base in addition to a steady stream of tourists attracted by the town's old-fashioned charm.
Originally called Salem's Sister City, Hamlet was founded in the late 1600s by Puritan settlers seeking religious freedom and fertile farmland. The town sat near the rocky New England coastline not far from the better-known tourist destination of Salem. Hamlet had its own rich history with spooky legends of ghosts, witches, and unexplained occurrences dating back centuries. The fascinating tales only added to the area's mystique and appeal to sightseers.
Shelby loved telling visitors about the most notorious Hamlet legend which involved the ghost of a tormented young woman named Prudence Harris. Prudence was born in Salem in 1676 and was nearly tried as a witch during the Witch Trials when she was only seventeen years old. She narrowly escaped the hangman's noose thanks to the efforts of her merchant father who arranged her secret exile to relatives living in the Virginia colony. Prudence fled south but never made it to Virginia, disappearing somewhere along the way.
According to local lore, Prudence's restless spirit haunted the sprawling Harris Estate on the outskirts of town where her family had moved after leaving Salem, hopelessly searching for her lost home and relatives.
Shelby occasionally joined the crowds on nights when the historical society offered candlelight tours of the supposedly haunted grounds. She hadn't spotted any ghostly apparitions herself, but hearing the tragic tale of Prudence Harris always gave her a satisfying spook.
Shelby enjoyed the glances both backward and forward that living in Hamlet provided. Surrounded by the reminders of the past and its mysteries, she looked ahead to the promises the future held. She saw herself spending happy days living in the apartment over the bookshop, enjoying little pleasures like cooking with ingredients from the local farmer's market or curling up with a new book on a rainy evening.
As the clock struck eight, Shelby went to unlock the front door and flip over the "Closed" sign. Harper twined happily around the young woman’s ankles, eager to assume her customary morning post greeting the customers.
"Ready for another day, Harper?" Shelby asked affectionately, and a loud meow came in response.
The cat took up her position by the checkout desk while Shelby busied herself straightening a display of the newest releases. She paused when she came across an advance copy of the latest thriller from one of her favorite authors. Tucking the novel under her arm to read later, Shelby glanced around the shop with a feeling of contentment. She loved seeing people browse the overflowing bookshelves searching for stories to get lost in, or to find new information to absorb. Owning Spellbound Books was Shelby's long-held dream. She couldn't imagine a better life.
The cheerful jangling of the bell over the door as the first customers arrived interrupted Shelby's thoughts. She straightened up with a welcoming smile on her face.
Harper hopped down and trotted over to investigate the new arrivals.
"Good morning. Let me know if I can help you find anything," Shelby called out. With a little sigh, she turned back to the new releases display. She always felt a little uneasy when approaching someone she didn’t know, but over the past two years, she’d made good progress in becoming more comfortable chatting with new customers at the shop. She supposed her gentle shyness was an odd personality quirk for someone who owned a retail store.
Shelby went into the backroom and came out with a step ladder she set up in front of the fireplace. It was already the weekend after Thanksgiving and she still hadn’t finished putting up Christmas decorations. After the Thanksgiving meal, Shelby and her relatives had made wreaths in the big red barn behind her parents’ house, and hers was a huge evergreen wreath with red ribbons, shiny ornaments, and tiny white lights. Carrying it as she stepped up the ladder, she reached for the hammer she’d placed on the mantelpiece. Suddenly, the weight of the wreath caused her balance to shift and her foot slipped off the step.
With a cry of surprise, Shelby felt herself falling backwards. Tumbling off the ladder, she fell into a heap as her head cracked sharply on the floor. After losing consciousness for several seconds, her eyes popped open to find herself lying stunned on the hardwood floor.
The cat’s face leaned over her, staring down at the young woman. “You hit your head, but you’re fine,” the cat told her. “You’ll have a doozy of a headache though.”
Shelby’s face paled as she looked at Harper. Are you talking to me?!
“Yes, I am. Finally, you can hear me.” Harper flicked her tail. “But don’t worry, no one else can … only you.”
"Oh, my goodness! Are you all right?" An anxious female voice filtered through the daze clouding Shelby's brain. She felt gentle hands assisting her as she slowly sat up, gingerly touching the growing lump on the back of her head.
"I think so," Shelby said shakily. "What happened?"
The woman who had helped Shelby to her feet was tall and elegantly dressed, wearing an old-fashioned traveling coat and a hat with a spotted veil. She shook her head, blue eyes crinkling with concern under the hat's brim.
"You must have slipped," the woman said, her voice refined and vaguely British. "One second, you were up on the ladder, and the next, you were flat on the floor."
Shelby climbed unsteadily to her feet, the kind stranger assisting with a grip on her elbow. The throbbing ache in her head made it hard to focus, but Shelby didn't think she had a concussion or anything dire wrong with her. She glanced at Harper, giving the cat an odd look.
"I appreciate your help," she told the woman gratefully. "I'll have to be more careful from now on when I’m hanging decorations."
The elegant woman nodded sympathetically.
"No lasti
Staring after her for a long moment, something niggled at the back of her mind. Shaking her head regretfully - and then wincing when the motion made the pain pound more fiercely - she headed for the employee break room and an ice pack.
Ten minutes later, the painful lump on the back of Shelby's head had changed to a dull throb. She figured she was lucky not to have more serious injuries from her slip and fall.
Shelby gave Harper a reassuring cuddle to calm her feline anxiety after witnessing the accident. “I thought you spoke to me right after I hit the floor. How crazy is that?”
Harper remained silent.
The regular morning crowd had picked up, and Shelby needed to get busy. Her friend and employee Rachel would arrive just before lunch to help out for the rest of the day.
Soon she was busy helping customers find books and making cheerful small talk. The normal, busy work routine pushed uneasy thoughts about falling off the ladder and hearing her cat speak out of Shelby's mind. When Rachel burst through the front door right on time at 11:30 am in her perpetually rushed state, Shelby had nearly forgotten about her tumble.
"You look really nice today," Shelby said in greeting, noting the extra care Rachel had taken with styling her long, dark curls. "Big date tonight?" she kidded.
Rachel's pale cheeks turned crimson as she shifted the impressive stack of books she lugged in her arms. At twenty-seven, the same age as Shelby, Rachel still hadn't outgrown the tendency to blush at the slightest provocation. Shelby hid a smile, deciding not to tease her easily flustered friend any further.
"Just drinks after work with Chad from the coffee shop," Rachel mumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on the books she was unpacking. "No big deal."
Shelby had suspected for a while that Rachel's constant trips to Bread and Roses Bakery next door had more to do with chatting with the cute barista than a desire for muffins or scones. She hoped caffeine wouldn't be the only thing brewing between her friend and Chad. They would make such a cute couple.
Harper sauntered over to inspect the new shipment of cat-themed notebooks Rachel was stocking on a shelf. After giving them an approving sniff, she wandered back to the front windowsill where she sat surveying the foot traffic outside.
Shelby smiled knowing the capricious cat's loyalty could be bought with the right treats or chin scratches.
The rest of the morning passed quickly between assisting customers and keeping up with restocking inventory. Shelby spent her lunch break in the back room devouring one of the new thriller novels, too caught up in the twists and turns of the mystery plot to return to the front of the store until Rachel poked her head in and asked if she was coming back out onto the floor.
“Oh, sorry. Time got away from me.” Shelby reluctantly tucked the thriller under the counter to grab again on her way upstairs when the work day was over. Reading was usually how she relaxed after work, often staying up far too late to find out what happened next in whatever book had captured her imagination.
A few minutes after flipping the sign to "Closed" at 6:00 pm, Shelby ushered the last customer out with a cheery goodbye. Rachel hurried to start the closing tasks of restocking shelves and tidying displays, clearly in a rush to leave for her date.
Shelby didn't mind doing the inventory and counting the till on her own. “Why don’t you head out? You and Chad have fun." Shelby didn’t have to tell Rachel twice to finish her shift. The young woman whirled out the front door in a flutter of silky scarves and flowy skirt.
Shaking her head in amusement, Shelby headed to the backroom to finish up the end-of-day routine. She promised herself plenty of time that night to sit and read her new book, ignoring the tiny pinch of loneliness she sometimes felt at having no exciting evening plans with a boyfriend of her own.
An unexpected noise coming from the front of the store interrupted Shelby's closing work. She crept toward the doorway connecting the back area to the main bookshop, grabbing a hefty hardcover murder mystery as an improvised weapon ... just in case.
Maybe Rachel forgot something after leaving? she wondered.
"Hello? We're closed," Shelby announced as she stepped back onto the sales floor.
There was no response. Feeling uneasy, she looked all around but saw no signs of an intruder, and then scolded herself for letting her imagination run wild. Working in a building rumored to be haunted sometimes made her a little jumpy. With a wry chuckle, Shelby replaced the weighty hardcover on a display table. Time to finish closing up and head upstairs.
A soft thump sounded again from the direction of the front counter, making Shelby yelp in fright. This was no product of her overactive imagination - something had just knocked a book off a shelf just out of her sight. For a split-second, Shelby considered making a run for the exit but shook off the foolish feeling. She grabbed the heavy book again for self-defense and inched forward.
"I'm calling the police if someone is messing around in here," Shelby threatened, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice. She inched closer to the front area, prepared to confront either a confused customer who had accidentally been left behind or a brazen shoplifter.
Shelby halted in shock when she reached the checkout counter. A book was levitating in mid-air, its pages fluttering as if an invisible person were browsing through them. She watched open-mouthed as the novel settled back on the countertop, only to have another float up right after it. Shelby stared, unable to process what she was witnessing.
Before she could recover her wits enough to run for help, Shelby felt a cold tingling sensation envelop her body. Her muscles tensed against the chilling pressure surrounding her. Panic flooded her veins as darkness seeped into the edges of Shelby's vision and the room began to fade away. Fighting against the blackness, she struggled to stay conscious.
In desperation, she clutched the back of a chair, not wanting to fall down again, and took slow, deep breaths. As Shelby forced herself to focus every ounce of energy into remaining calm, she lifted one hand to her throat where the rose quartz pendant she always wore lay against her frigid skin.
Trying to slow down her racing heart, the biting cold left as quickly as it had arrived. She stumbled forward and grabbed onto the solid wood of the checkout counter desk, anchoring herself against it. She stood there for endless minutes, waiting for her tingling numbness to fade and rational thought to return.
What she had just seen wasn’t a natural occurrence. She wasn't prone to flights of fancy, but living in Hamlet she did believe in the paranormal – although nothing like that had ever happened to her before.
The only explanation her logical mind could accept was that a ghost or spirit of some sort had been in her bookstore. Shelby reached for her pendant.
Raising a still-shaky hand to the tender lump on her head, Shelby wondered if getting knocked out earlier had jostled something loose in her brain.
She shook herself. She must have imagined the bizarre incident. Ghostly books lifting off shelves by themselves and hearing her cat speak to her had to be delusions brought on by hitting her head.
Right?
Shelby couldn't accept she had a phantom in her shop reading her books. What would she tell the police - that an invisible assailant had been picking out books? They would cart her straight to the psych ward.
Leaning against the counter for a few long moments trying to calm herself, she tried to decide what course of action to take. She jumped when a soft furry shape brushed against her leg. Looking down into the bemused green eyes of her cat, Shelby exhaled a shaky laugh. She gave the feline a gentle scratch under her chin.
"You wouldn't know what just happened here, would you, sweet one?" she asked the cat.
Harper purred and leaned harder into the young woman’s hand, unbothered by supernatural manifestations.
“Just keep scratching.” Shelby heard the cat’s words in her head.
“What?” Shelby stepped back from her fluffy cat. “Did you say something?”
“Yes, Shelby, I did.”
“Maybe I should call the doctor.” With a deep breath, Shelby rubbed her head trying to pull herself together. She had to get out of there - she could figure out an explanation for what she’d experienced later. Right then, all she wanted was to be safely locked in her cozy apartment with all the lights blazing.
