Oleander House (A Bay City Paranormal Investigation)

Excerpt:

The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Sam Raintree reached his destination. It was a full day’s drive from his home north of Atlanta to the town of Gautier, Mississippi, and nearly another hour from there to Oleander House. Luckily he’d gotten an early start.

Sam smiled as he turned off the narrow road onto the gravel driveway leading to the house. The largest oleander bushes he’d ever seen lined the long, curving drive. Their bright pink blossoms littered the ground. Beyond the tops of the oleanders Sam could just make out a peaked roof of a red so dark it was nearly black.

His pulse sped up. Oleander House was his first case in his new job as technical assistant for Bay City Paranormal Investigations. He’d been hired after several phone interviews and one face-to-face meeting with Amy Landry, one of the co-owners of the Mobile based business. He hadn’t even had time to move into the apartment he’d rented in Mobile before the job with Oleander House had come along. So he’d packed everything he owned into the covered bed of his pickup and left Marietta for the last time.

When the truck rounded the final curve in the drive and the house came into view Sam stopped and leaned on the steering wheel, staring with wide eyes. The house was huge, squarish, white, with deep porches running the full width of both stories. Pine trees crowded against the outbuildings in back. The upstairs porch jutted out at either end and in the middle, forming wide balconies seething with shadows. Something about it seemed vaguely obscene, as if at any moment an unwholesome presence might reveal itself from around a bend in the humid air.

“Wow,” Sam said out loud to the breathless evening. “What a place.”

He grabbed his duffle bag off the passenger seat, hopped out of the cab, and started toward the house. The setting sun dyed the heat-crisped front lawn a deep red. Sam imagined he was wading through battlefield gore as he walked across the flat expanse, his bag slung over one shoulder. He wondered if the Civil War had splattered this place with blood and ghosts as it had so much of the South.

It took a couple of minutes for the door to open after he rang the bell. A woman with fiery curls and bright blue eyes stood on the other side. Amy Landry, the woman who’d hired him. She smiled and held out her hand. Sam took it and they shook.

“Hi, Sam,” she said. “How was your drive?”

“Hey, Amy. It was fine, no problem.” He stepped into the echoing foyer and set his bag on the polished wood floor. “This place is amazing.”

“Sure is. Wait ‘til you hear its history.” She started toward an arch in the left-hand wall, motioning Sam to follow. “Come get some dinner, and I’ll introduce you to everyone else. You can leave your bag here for now.”

Sam trailed behind her down a long hallway with rich cherry paneling and a floor tiled in crimson-and-cream marble. French doors lined the hall on his left, opening on the front porch. They passed a closed set of carved wooden double doors on his right before they came to a set that stood open. Light and voices drifted from inside.

The dining-room walls were painted a dark claret, offset by a cream-colored ceiling. The other members of the group sat around a large wooden table, eating and talking. Three pairs of eyes turned to Sam and Amy as they entered the room.

“Guys, this is Sam Raintree, our new tech assistant,” Amy announced to the group. “Sam, this is Andre Meloy, Cecile Langlois and David Broom.”

Andre, a tall, muscular man with deep brown skin and a movie-star smile, stood and offered a hand across the table. “Pleased to meet you, Sam. I’m the lead tech specialist, we’ll be working together a lot.”

“Good to meet you too, Andre.” Sam shook Andre’s hand, trying not to wince at the other man’s bone-crushing grip.

“Have a seat,” David said, giving Sam a dimpled grin. “I’m the rest of the tech department, great to have you aboard.” He mopped his balding head with his napkin. “Hot in here, huh? August in Mississippi, we must be nuts. No air conditioning either.”

“At least there’s indoor plumbing.” Amy sat next to Andre and passed Sam a big bowl full of something that smelled hot and spicy. “Have some jambalaya, Sam, you must be hungry after the long drive.”

Sam took the empty seat next to David and started heaping his plate with food. “Yeah, I am, thanks.”

“So, this your first investigation?” Andre asked, forking up a mouthful of jambalaya.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve been on a few amateur hunts, but this is my first professional one. I’m really excited about it. Sure beats the hell out of working in computer tech support.”

“This isn’t a vacation, you know.” Cecile gave him a cool look from under her long chestnut bangs. “It can be dangerous. The spirit world isn’t something to be taken lightly.” Her many bracelets clinked together as she picked up her wineglass.

Sam frowned at her. The wine swirling around the bottom of her glass was the color of blood. For a moment he was sure it was exactly that. She took a sip, grimaced, and set the glass down.

“Cecile is the psychic sent by the home’s owner,” Amy said, as if that explained the woman’s attitude. The way she glared at Cecile was not friendly. “Sam, would you like some wine?”

“No. Thank you.” Sam scooped up a forkful of jambalaya. “Oh, man, this is fantastic,” he declared with his mouth full.

“Thanks. I made it myself.”

Sam looked up to see the owner of the new voice standing in the doorway opposite to the one he and Amy had entered through. Suddenly his heart was in his throat. The man was near his own six-foot-plus height, slim and graceful, with caramel skin and large, soft eyes the color of rich delta soil. Swatches of straight black hair escaped a haphazard braid to fall across the sensual curves of his face.

Sam gulped, trying desperately to keep his immediate attraction from showing. He’d learned the hard way that not everyone took kindly to having a gay man in their midst. Some people still thought it was contagious.

“I’m Dr. Broussard,” the man said, coming toward him with a wide smile and outstretched hand. “Call me Bo.”

So this was the founder and lead investigator for Bay City Paranormal. Sam stood on wobbly legs and shook Bo’s broad, callused hand. He couldn’t help thinking how beautifully Bo’s darkness contrasted with his own fairness. Ignoring the mental picture of his blond hair between Bo’s long, dusky fingers, Sam returned Bo’s smile. “Good to meet you, Bo. I’m Sam Raintree.” He congratulated himself on sounding nicely casual.

“Welcome, Sam. Sorry I never got to be in on any of your interviews, but things just kept coming up.” Bo plopped into the chair next to Sam’s. “You’ve met everyone, I guess?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I did. Amy introduced me.”

“Good.” Bo helped himself to jambalaya. “After dinner I’ll show you to your room, then we’ll all meet back in the library and get started.”

Sam met Bo’s warm smile with one of his own, feeling his insides shift with a twitchy mix of nerves and desire. “So, uh, what’re we doing tonight?”

“First, Amy and I will review the history of the house. Then Andre and David can go over the equipment with you and Cecile.”

“Equipment?” Cecile exclaimed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I can use your equipment. It interferes with my ability to read the psychic energy of the house.”

Bo breathed a barely audible sigh. “Fine. After we’ve shown you the equipment, Sam, we’ll do a preliminary survey of the entire house, one team working upstairs and one downstairs. Our main goal tonight is to get baseline readings for temperature and EMF levels, and note any hot spots for further investigation.” Bo’s dark eyes cut to Cecile. “Cecile, I want you to take a notebook and pen, and make a note of the exact time and place where you feel anything out of the ordinary, all right?”

Cecile nodded. “Yes, certainly.”

“What do we do if we find hot spots?” Sam asked.

“Set up recording equipment,” Amy answered. “Then we’ll let audio and video run until the tapes run out. We won’t worry about getting up in the middle of the night to change them unless the preliminary survey gives us a damn good reason to. Tomorrow we’ll see if it caught anything.” She made a face. “Hopefully one day we’ll have enough recording equipment to have cameras running in several spots at once all the time.”

“And if you get something on tape?” Cecile crossed her skinny arms and arched an eyebrow. “What then?”

“If we get something worth having, we’ll do a more in-depth investigation on that area tomorrow,” Bo said, unperturbed by Cecile’s condescending attitude.

“Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing.” Amy’s tone was sharp. “We’ve been running paranormal investigations since you were in diapers.”

“That true?” Sam met Bo’s gaze, trying to ignore the man’s natural sensuality and concentrate on business. “Have you guys really been investigating that long?”

“Twenty years, give or take.” Bo sipped from his glass of water. “I started out by hauling equipment for Dr. Pitre at LSU to help pay my way through college. She was a paranormal researcher, first one I ever met. She taught me a lot, and got me interested in the subject. As soon as I graduated with my psychology degree, I started assisting her with investigations. A couple of years later, I was running them myself. She left me all her equipment and a chunk of money when she died, so I quit my teaching job and starting investigating full-time. Met Amy a couple of years later, and we went into business together.”

“I’d been working days as a receptionist at a doctor’s office and investigating part-time at night,” Amy added, helping herself to more jambalaya. “Happiest day of my life, when I got to quit the day job.”

Andre took Amy’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “That was your happiest day?”

Amy gave him a warm smile. “Okay. Second happiest.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, her face glowing.

“You’d think after five years living together, they’d stop being like that.” David shook his head sadly. “It’s enough to give you cavities.”

Amy calmly flipped him off. David laughed.

“Amy told you about the ghost tours, didn’t she?” Bo asked, smiling at Sam.

“She did, yes.” Sam took a long swallow of iced tea. “It’s a great idea, in my opinion. Taking groups of tourists on ghost hunts.”

“Yeah, it’s fun, mostly,” David agreed, biting into a piece of garlic bread. “They don’t get the good stuff, though. We only take ‘em places we’ve been before, that we know are safe.”

“They get to investigate a real haunted house, and we get paid enough to keep the business going.” A big grin lit Andre’s face. “Everybody’s happy.”

Cecile’s brows drew together. “I thought that you charged for your investigations. The real ones, I mean, like this one.”

“We do,” Amy said. “But we charge on a sliding scale, according to what people can afford, so we don’t always get paid much.”

“We’re getting plenty for this job, though.” David smirked. “The owner’s stinking rich.”

“Thank God for that,” Andre said with feeling.

“Money makes the world go ‘round, brother.” David held a hand up over the table and Andre high-fived him. Sam laughed, feeling some of his initial nervousness draining away.

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	Oleander House (A Bay City Paranormal Investigation) Oleander House is available in ebook and print formats from Samhain Publishing. Putting his life and sanity on the line—for a man beyond his reach. Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 1 Sam Raintree’s experience with things he can’t explain isn’t the only reason his new job as a paranormal investigator is a perfect fit. His coworkers, preoccupied with things outside the norm, will never notice he’s gay. Once he settles into his first investigation at Oleander House, his gay-by-stealth theory goes out the window. Not only is his unexpected attraction to group leader Dr. Bo Broussard painfully obvious, he can’t hide his increasingly erotic and frightening dreams stimulated by the house’s violent history. Though Bo conceals his sexuality behind a wedding ring, mutual attraction shrinks the wary distance between them until the sparks ignite an electrifying encounter. Next morning, Bo’s back in the closet and blaming his “lapse” on the house’s unusual effect on Sam’s latent psychokinetic ability. In other words, a poltergeist made him do it. Sam’s outrage feeds a determination to prove Bo wrong—until the heat of conflict opens a door to the house’s murderous past, unleashing a torrent of bloodshed and life-changing revelation. Warning: This title contains explicit male/male dream-sex, cross-dimensional electromagnetic theories (mmm, that’s hot!), intense violence, and language graphic enough to wake the dead. Excerpt: © Copyright 2006 Ally Blue The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Sam Raintree reached his destination. It was a full day’s drive from his home north of Atlanta to the town of Gautier, Mississippi, and nearly another hour from there to Oleander House. Luckily he’d gotten an early start. Sam smiled as he turned off the narrow road onto the gravel driveway leading to the house. The largest oleander bushes he’d ever seen lined the long, curving drive. Their bright pink blossoms littered the ground. Beyond the tops of the oleanders Sam could just make out a peaked roof of a red so dark it was nearly black. His pulse sped up. Oleander House was his first case in his new job as technical assistant for Bay City Paranormal Investigations. He’d been hired after several phone interviews and one face-to-face meeting with Amy Landry, one of the co-owners of the Mobile based business. He hadn’t even had time to move into the apartment he’d rented in Mobile before the job with Oleander House had come along. So he’d packed everything he owned into the covered bed of his pickup and left Marietta for the last time. When the truck rounded the final curve in the drive and the house came into view Sam stopped and leaned on the steering wheel, staring with wide eyes. The house was huge, squarish, white, with deep porches running the full width of both stories. Pine trees crowded against the outbuildings in back. The upstairs porch jutted out at either end and in the middle, forming wide balconies seething with shadows. Something about it seemed vaguely obscene, as if at any moment an unwholesome presence might reveal itself from around a bend in the humid air. “Wow,” Sam said out loud to the breathless evening. “What a place.” He grabbed his duffle bag off the passenger seat, hopped out of the cab, and started toward the house. The setting sun dyed the heat-crisped front lawn a deep red. Sam imagined he was wading through battlefield gore as he walked across the flat expanse, his bag slung over one shoulder. He wondered if the Civil War had splattered this place with blood and ghosts as it had so much of the South. It took a couple of minutes for the door to open after he rang the bell. A woman with fiery curls and bright blue eyes stood on the other side. Amy Landry, the woman who’d hired him. She smiled and held out her hand. Sam took it and they shook. “Hi, Sam,” she said. “How was your drive?” “Hey, Amy. It was fine, no problem.” He stepped into the echoing foyer and set his bag on the polished wood floor. “This place is amazing.” “Sure is. Wait ‘til you hear its history.” She started toward an arch in the left-hand wall, motioning Sam to follow. “Come get some dinner, and I’ll introduce you to everyone else. You can leave your bag here for now.” Sam trailed behind her down a long hallway with rich cherry paneling and a floor tiled in crimson-and-cream marble. French doors lined the hall on his left, opening on the front porch. They passed a closed set of carved wooden double doors on his right before they came to a set that stood open. Light and voices drifted from inside. The dining-room walls were painted a dark claret, offset by a cream-colored ceiling. The other members of the group sat around a large wooden table, eating and talking. Three pairs of eyes turned to Sam and Amy as they entered the room. “Guys, this is Sam Raintree, our new tech assistant,” Amy announced to the group. “Sam, this is Andre Meloy, Cecile Langlois and David Broom.” Andre, a tall, muscular man with deep brown skin and a movie-star smile, stood and offered a hand across the table. “Pleased to meet you, Sam. I’m the lead tech specialist, we’ll be working together a lot.” “Good to meet you too, Andre.” Sam shook Andre’s hand, trying not to wince at the other man’s bone-crushing grip. “Have a seat,” David said, giving Sam a dimpled grin. “I’m the rest of the tech department, great to have you aboard.” He mopped his balding head with his napkin. “Hot in here, huh? August in Mississippi, we must be nuts. No air conditioning either.” “At least there’s indoor plumbing.” Amy sat next to Andre and passed Sam a big bowl full of something that smelled hot and spicy. “Have some jambalaya, Sam, you must be hungry after the long drive.” Sam took the empty seat next to David and started heaping his plate with food. “Yeah, I am, thanks.” “So, this your first investigation?” Andre asked, forking up a mouthful of jambalaya. Sam nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve been on a few amateur hunts, but this is my first professional one. I’m really excited about it. Sure beats the hell out of working in computer tech support.” “This isn’t a vacation, you know.” Cecile gave him a cool look from under her long chestnut bangs. “It can be dangerous. The spirit world isn’t something to be taken lightly.” Her many bracelets clinked together as she picked up her wineglass. Sam frowned at her. The wine swirling around the bottom of her glass was the color of blood. For a moment he was sure it was exactly that. She took a sip, grimaced, and set the glass down. “Cecile is the psychic sent by the home’s owner,” Amy said, as if that explained the woman’s attitude. The way she glared at Cecile was not friendly. “Sam, would you like some wine?” “No. Thank you.” Sam scooped up a forkful of jambalaya. “Oh, man, this is fantastic,” he declared with his mouth full. “Thanks. I made it myself.” Sam looked up to see the owner of the new voice standing in the doorway opposite to the one he and Amy had entered through. Suddenly his heart was in his throat. The man was near his own six-foot-plus height, slim and graceful, with caramel skin and large, soft eyes the color of rich delta soil. Swatches of straight black hair escaped a haphazard braid to fall across the sensual curves of his face. Sam gulped, trying desperately to keep his immediate attraction from showing. He’d learned the hard way that not everyone took kindly to having a gay man in their midst. Some people still thought it was contagious. “I’m Dr. Broussard,” the man said, coming toward him with a wide smile and outstretched hand. “Call me Bo.” So this was the founder and lead investigator for Bay City Paranormal. Sam stood on wobbly legs and shook Bo’s broad, callused hand. He couldn’t help thinking how beautifully Bo’s darkness contrasted with his own fairness. Ignoring the mental picture of his blond hair between Bo’s long, dusky fingers, Sam returned Bo’s smile. “Good to meet you, Bo. I’m Sam Raintree.” He congratulated himself on sounding nicely casual. “Welcome, Sam. Sorry I never got to be in on any of your interviews, but things just kept coming up.” Bo plopped into the chair next to Sam’s. “You’ve met everyone, I guess?” Sam nodded. “Yeah, I did. Amy introduced me.” “Good.” Bo helped himself to jambalaya. “After dinner I’ll show you to your room, then we’ll all meet back in the library and get started.” Sam met Bo’s warm smile with one of his own, feeling his insides shift with a twitchy mix of nerves and desire. “So, uh, what’re we doing tonight?” “First, Amy and I will review the history of the house. Then Andre and David can go over the equipment with you and Cecile.” “Equipment?” Cecile exclaimed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I can use your equipment. It interferes with my ability to read the psychic energy of the house.” Bo breathed a barely audible sigh. “Fine. After we’ve shown you the equipment, Sam, we’ll do a preliminary survey of the entire house, one team working upstairs and one downstairs. Our main goal tonight is to get baseline readings for temperature and EMF levels, and note any hot spots for further investigation.” Bo’s dark eyes cut to Cecile. “Cecile, I want you to take a notebook and pen, and make a note of the exact time and place where you feel anything out of the ordinary, all right?” Cecile nodded. “Yes, certainly.” “What do we do if we find hot spots?” Sam asked. “Set up recording equipment,” Amy answered. “Then we’ll let audio and video run until the tapes run out. We won’t worry about getting up in the middle of the night to change them unless the preliminary survey gives us a damn good reason to. Tomorrow we’ll see if it caught anything.” She made a face. “Hopefully one day we’ll have enough recording equipment to have cameras running in several spots at once all the time.” “And if you get something on tape?” Cecile crossed her skinny arms and arched an eyebrow. “What then?” “If we get something worth having, we’ll do a more in-depth investigation on that area tomorrow,” Bo said, unperturbed by Cecile’s condescending attitude. “Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing.” Amy’s tone was sharp. “We’ve been running paranormal investigations since you were in diapers.” “That true?” Sam met Bo’s gaze, trying to ignore the man’s natural sensuality and concentrate on business. “Have you guys really been investigating that long?” “Twenty years, give or take.” Bo sipped from his glass of water. “I started out by hauling equipment for Dr. Pitre at LSU to help pay my way through college. She was a paranormal researcher, first one I ever met. She taught me a lot, and got me interested in the subject. As soon as I graduated with my psychology degree, I started assisting her with investigations. A couple of years later, I was running them myself. She left me all her equipment and a chunk of money when she died, so I quit my teaching job and starting investigating full-time. Met Amy a couple of years later, and we went into business together.” “I’d been working days as a receptionist at a doctor’s office and investigating part-time at night,” Amy added, helping herself to more jambalaya. “Happiest day of my life, when I got to quit the day job.” Andre took Amy’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “That was your happiest day?” Amy gave him a warm smile. “Okay. Second happiest.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, her face glowing. “You’d think after five years living together, they’d stop being like that.” David shook his head sadly. “It’s enough to give you cavities.” Amy calmly flipped him off. David laughed. “Amy told you about the ghost tours, didn’t she?” Bo asked, smiling at Sam. “She did, yes.” Sam took a long swallow of iced tea. “It’s a great idea, in my opinion. Taking groups of tourists on ghost hunts.” “Yeah, it’s fun, mostly,” David agreed, biting into a piece of garlic bread. “They don’t get the good stuff, though. We only take ‘em places we’ve been before, that we know are safe.” “They get to investigate a real haunted house, and we get paid enough to keep the business going.” A big grin lit Andre’s face. “Everybody’s happy.” Cecile’s brows drew together. “I thought that you charged for your investigations. The real ones, I mean, like this one.” “We do,” Amy said. “But we charge on a sliding scale, according to what people can afford, so we don’t always get paid much.” “We’re getting plenty for this job, though.” David smirked. “The owner’s stinking rich.” “Thank God for that,” Andre said with feeling. “Money makes the world go ‘round, brother.” David held a hand up over the table and Andre high-fived him. Sam laughed, feeling some of his initial nervousness draining away.