Raven's Influence

Book 1: Cleo's Second Act - Paranormal Women's Fiction

by Lynn Morrison

Genres: Paranormal; Romantic Fantasy; Women's Fiction; Witches; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

Ancient gods, magical powers, and a hunk living above our garage. Who says nothing ever happens in Raven?

**A paranormal women's fiction about midlife women, mythical gods, and the magic that happens when life forces you to change.**

Cleo Harwell swore she'd never move back to Raven, Georgia. Footloose and 43, she was looking forward to finding out what Atlanta could offer a single, empty nester.
Of course, that's when her mama calls to say she needs a hip replacement. Despite Cleo's vow to stay away, she does what any dutiful daughter would: she puts her business on hold, packs her suitcase, and heads back to the one-horse town where she grew up.
Raven isn't exactly how Cleo remembers it, starting with the scorching-hot stranger living in the apartment above Mama’s garage. Yet, other things are exactly the same — including Mama’s best friend, who hasn't aged a day in 30 years.
When a mysterious door appears in the middle of her mama's hallway, Cleo suspects she's losing her mind.
That's when she finds out dementia doesn't run in her family tree. Magical powers do.
The ancient Roman gods live in Raven, and the only thing standing between them and all hell breaking loose is Cleo… if she can lay claim to the Earth witch powers that are her legacy.
Some say Cleo's too old to take on mythical gods and magical powers. She's looking forward to proving them wrong.
She might be midlife, but sugar, she's just getting started.

Release date: May 30, 2021

Publisher: Marketing Chair Press

Print pages: 264

Sample

“Maybe you should come back home to Raven.”

It was well past sundown after a long day at work. I was sprawled on my couch, using what little energy I had left to flip through a gossip magazine. My thick, brown hair, hung limp around my face, suffering from the late summer humidity as much as the rest of me. I debated whether a bubble bath would offer stress relief or was more likely to trigger a hot flash.

When my phone rang, I was totally unprepared for a serious conversation with my mama.

I could imagine Mama settled in her favorite chair in her sitting room, her cordless phone cradled in her hand. Her chestnut hair shot through with silver, still perfect after her weekly wash and set. Not a single strand would dare to disobey her.

Mama cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I've been thinking… Catherine’s off at college now, Cleo. Wyatt sure ain’t coming back into your life, not that you’d let him, anyway."

"Thank goodness for that," I muttered.

She ignored my remark. "Why not come here for a stay? Plenty of your clients have been begging you to decorate their vacation homes here in the mountains. I don’t know why you insist on telling them no. And you’ve been talking about downsizing the house.”

“To Raven? Why on Earth would I come back to Raven?” I scoffed as I set the magazine aside. This conversation needed my undivided attention. “The only entertainment in town is seeing what kind of get up crazy ole Mrs. Burch wears to church on Sunday. Besides, I’ve got my eye on a new condo near downtown. And with Cat gone to college, I can finally sit on the couch in an old t-shirt and panties and eat Ben & Jerry’s without anybody judging me.”

Mama shushed me, but her snort let me know I’d managed to amuse her.

She quickly stifled her amusement. “Cleo,” she drawled, stretching my name out, “you can run your business just as easily from here as in Atlanta. As nice as ice cream in your panties sounds, there’s no point in both of us rattling around empty homes when we could be eating supper together.”

Her insistence raised my worst fears. “What’s going on, Mama? Are you dying?”

“I’m not dying, Cleo,” she huffed, affronted that I would dare to even ask the question. “It’s my hip," she admitted, the words dragging out of her. "It hurts like the dickens. I've been putting it off for as long as I can, but the doctor insists I go in for a replacement.”

I mouthed a silent prayer, glad she had called me instead of using FaceTime. I wouldn't have wanted her to see how much she'd alarmed me. She’d always seemed invincible, and I had to admit that this sign of weakness had me worried.

Of course, I’d go home. For a little while, anyway. That’s what we Harwell women did. When we needed one another, we showed up.

“I guess I could come and stay for a few weeks…” I offered, mentally shelving my plans to go look at the condo.

Gods above, I had no idea what I was getting myself into…