Author Guest Post - Joyce Humphrey Cares
About the Author:
Joyce Humphrey Cares lives in Central Florida with her three dogs. A voracious reader since childhood, she finally decided to take a stab at writing. She combines her love of history and the places she has traveled when she weaves her stories.
When she is not writing, Joyce builds and decorates dollhouses, plays golf, and plans her next trip to a place where she can return home and write a romantic suspense or a time travel novel.
Book title: BEYOND THE MIST
Genre: time travel/romantic suspense/ historical
Book blurb: The woman in the long black cape appeared at night the way visions usually do. Alexandra Perrot, FBI agent, traveled to a historical chateau in the French countryside. She’s chosen by the chateau’s resident ghost to return to the gruesome time of 1789—the French Revolution—when blood ran down the streets of Paris. She is determined to piece together the long held secrets and mysteries surrounding her family. To help link the past and the present, Alexandra joins forces with French attorney, Jean Paul Morneau, who has been hired to defend the present day chateau owner on murder charges. Two sets of footprints are led by the ghost on a romantic journey, into a time of treachery and betrayal, to rescue one of the aristocracy from Madam Guillotine and to help another who is no longer alive, but has not crossed over, find peace.
Author Contact Links:
Sweet Cravings Publishing
Alexandra Perrot twisted her ring as she stood up. She heard the rustling sound of satin material come from the doorway of the dining room. When she turned, a woman in a high-necked gown stood there staring at her. Alexandra closed her eyes tightly. As soon as she opened them, the woman was gone.
“Is something wrong?” Jean Paul Morneau asked. “All of a sudden you paled.”
“Oh no. It’s nothing,”she said. “Just jet lag. I didn’t sleep most of the night on the plane. I enjoyed our lunch—our very long lunch. It’s five o’clock—almost midnight for me. Perhaps I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“I hope so,” Jean Paul said as he stretched his legs and pushed his chair away from the table. “Until tomorrow, I look forward to see you for the Bastille Day celebration.” He grasped her hand and laid it against his cheek. “There are parades, special events and special foods to celebrate the day the French Revolution began.”
“Au’voir.” She felt her breath catch in her throat. She could feel his eyes swoop from her head to her toes as she walked away.
Jean Paul motioned to the waiter. “A cognac please.” He watched the sun begin to slide behind the mountain. The purple of encroaching night soften the hedges and woods.
He picked up his glass and took a sip. I never dreamt when I heard an American tourist with a French name would be visiting the chateau, she would be sexy and beautiful with long, auburn hair and beautiful green eyes, and I enjoyed every minute of lunch.
As soon as Alexandra’s head hit the pillow, she fell asleep.
She woke up with a start. Her eyes popped open.
“Don’t be afraid,” the voice uttered.
Alexandra lay still for a moment.
“What? Who is it?” She sat straight up in bed. She struggled to focus her eyes and saw a woman stepping out of her mirror.
The light from the moon spilled into her room. It was bright enough for her to see a jewel encrusted and nobly dressed eighteen century woman standing at the foot of her bed.
“You must come with me,” she pleaded. Her hands stretched toward Alexandra. “I’m Claudette.”
“Wait.” Alexandra took a deep breath then exhaled. “Wait I’m coming with you.” She dressed quickly.
“Hurry.” Claudette said. She pulled Alexandra toward the mirror. It seemed to open like a sliding door. “Follow me,” she yelled.
Alexandra felt the cold stone walls as she moved through a tunnel filled with mist.
Within minutes, she was able to examine the property around her. The mist cleared. A carriage and four horses waited. She stood on a gravel path. It didn’t look it had when she arrived. There were no beautiful gardens or paved roads. She had a feeling of dread as she followed Claudette into the carriage.
Alexandra heard the coachman crack his whip and the horses’ harnesses snap has the carriage jolted forward. She felt the coach bounce and lurch as they left the chateau grounds.
She gave Claudette a sidelong glance. “What do you want from me? Where are we going? Alexandra shouted over the noise of the horses and the carriage.
“We’re going to Paris. I need your help to free my brother-in-law from the Bastille. Alexandra, you have to help me get him out of prison before he gets killed.”
The Bastille? It isn’t there anymore. It hasn’t been there for over two hundred years. “The Bastille in Paris?” Alexandra asked.
“That’s what I said,” Claudette screemed.
“What year is it? What’s the date?”
“Why are you asking me what year it is?” Claudette looked out of the corner of her eyes. She drew her brows together.
“Just answer my question.” Alexandra leaned forward. Her nose almost touched Claudette’s nose. A chill ran along her spine.
“It’s Tuesday, July 14, 1789.” Claudette inched her body back on the seat and huddled in the corner. “Shut your curtains. We don’t want anyone to recognize us at the gates of Paris. We’re just going to break through the guards.”Alexandra pulled the curtains closed—held them tightly together—and prayed.
Author Contact Links:
Sweet Cravings Publishing