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  There was a gasp in the crowd. A pretty young woman turned to the young man at her side. “Oh! We’re staying at Karney Castle!” she said. “And the main hall is just so hauntingly—haunted!”

  “Ahha!” Gary said, smiling. “Hauntingly haunted! Aye, that it is!”

  “We’re staying there, too!” said an older woman.

  “Ah, well, then, a number of you are lucky enough to be staying at the castle,” Gary said. “Ten rooms and suites she lets out a night! Be sure to listen—and keep good watch. Maybe you’ll see or hear a ghost—there are many more, of course. It’s been a hard and vicious history, you know. Of course, you need not worry if ya be afraid of ghosts—while the main tower is most known to be haunted, Brianna tends to roam the halls of the second floor, and that’s where only the family stays.”

  Devin felt a hand on her shoulder and heard a gentle whisper at her ear. “You, my love. Have you seen Brianna?”

  It was Rocky—Craig Rockwell, the love of her life, seated by her side, their knees touching. And it was the kind of whisper that made her feel a sweet warmth sear through her, teasing her senses.

  Rocky was her husband of three days.

  But though she smiled, she didn’t let the sensual tease streak as far as it might. Oddly enough, his question was serious; partially because they were staying in the old master’s suite, since they were family, through marriage—Rocky, through her. Devin, because her mother’s sister April had long ago married Seamus Karney, youngest brother of the Karney family.

  His question was also partially serious because they were who they were themselves—and what they did for a living, rather strange work, really, because it was the kind that could never be left behind.

  She and Rocky had been together since a bizarre series of murders in Salem. Devin owned a cottage there, inherited from a beloved great aunt. Rocky had grown up in nearby Marblehead and had—technically—been part of the case since he’d been in high school. As an adult, he’d also been part of the FBI—and then part of an elite unit within the FBI, the Krewe of Hunters.

  Devin had been—and still was—a creator of children’s books. But, she’d found herself part of the case as well, nearly a victim.

  Somehow, in the midst of it all, they’d grown closer and closer—despite a somewhat hostile beginning. As they’d found their own lives in danger, they’d discovered that their natural physical attraction began to grow—and then they found they desperately loved one another and were, in many ways, a perfect match. Not perfect—nothing was perfect. But she loved Rocky and knew that he loved her with an equal passion and devotion.

  That was, she thought, as perfect as life could ever get.

  And, she’d discovered, she was a “just about as perfect as you were going to get” candidate for being a part of the Krewe as well. That had meant nearly half a year—pretty grueling for her, really—in the FBI Academy, but she’d come through and now she was very grateful.

  Rocky had never told her what she should or shouldn’t do. The choice had been hers, but she believed he was pleased with her position—it allowed them to work together, which was important since they traveled so much on cases. While the agency allowed marriages and relationships among employees, they usually had to be in different units. Not so with the Krewe. In the Krewe, relationships between agents aided in their pursuits.

  While Devin had never known she’d wanted to be in law enforcement before the events in Salem, she felt now that she could never go back. She belonged in the Krewe because she did have a special talent—one shared by all those in the unit.

  When they chose to be seen, she—like the others—had the ability to see the dead.

  And speak with them.

  It wasn’t a talent she’d had since she’d been a child. It was one she had discovered when bodies had started piling up after she returned to live in Salem. The victim of a long ago persecution had found her, seeking help for those being murdered in the present in an age-old act of vengeance.

  She still wrote her books, gaining ideas from her work. And being with the Krewe made her feel that she was using herself in the best way possible—helping those in need. She’d never wanted the world to be evil. And the world wasn’t evil—just some people in it.

  She did have to admit that her life had never seemed so complete. But, of course, that was mainly because she woke up each morning with Rocky at her side. And she knew that no matter how many years went by, she would love waking to his dark green eyes on her, even when his auburn hair grayed—or disappeared entirely. She loved Rocky—everything about him. He was one of the least self-conscious people she had ever met. He towered over her five-nine by a good six inches and was naturally lean but powerfully built, and yet totally oblivious to his appearance. Of course, he took his work very seriously and that meant time in a gym several days every week. Now, of course, she had to take to the gym every week herself.

  Rocky was just much better at the discipline.

  Better at every discipline, she thought dryly.

  And also so compassionate, despite all that he’d seen in the world. When her cousin had called her nervously, begging her to come to Ireland, Rocky had been quick to tell Devin that yes, naturally, Adam Harrison and Jackson Crow—the founder and Director Special Agent of their unit, respectively—would give them leave to do so. And it had all worked out well, really, because they’d toyed with the idea of a wedding—neither wanted anything traditional, large, or extravagant—and they’d made some tentative plans, thinking they’d take time after and head for a destination like Bermuda.

  They chose not to put off the wedding; in fact, they pushed it up a bit. And instead of Bermuda or the Caribbean, they headed to Ireland.

  A working honeymoon might not be ideal. Still, they’d been living together for six months before they married, so it wasn’t really what some saw as a traditional honeymoon anyway. And, St. Patrick’s Day was March 17th, just three days away from their landing on the Emerald Isle that noon. Her cousin, Kelly Karney, had promised amazing festivities, despite the recent death of Kelly’s uncle, Collum Karney—the real reason they had come.

  A heart attack, plain and simple.

  Then why was Collum discovered after the screeching, terrible howl of the banshee with the look of horror upon his face described by Brendan?

  “They say,” Gary the Ghost intoned, his voice rich and carrying across the fire, and yet low and husky as well, “that Castle Karney carries within her very stone the heart and blood of a people, the cries of their battles, the lament of those lost, indeed, the cry of dead and dying…and the banshee come to greet them. Ah, yes, she’s proven herself secure. ‘Castle Karney in Karney hands shall lie, ‘til the moon goes dark by night and the banshee wails her last lament!’ So said the brave Declan Karney, just as the steel of his enemy’s blade struck his flesh!”

  Devin turned to look up at the castle walls.

  Castle Karney.

  Covered in time, rugged as the cliffs she hugged, and… Even as Devin looked at the great walls, it seemed that a shadow fell over them to embrace them, embrace Karney. A chill settled over her as she looked into the night, blinking. The shadow as dark and forbidding as the…

  As the grave.

  As Gary said, as old as time, and the caress of the banshee herself.

  Welcome to Storm, Texas, where passion runs hot, desire runs deep, and secrets have the power to destroy...

  Nestled among rolling hills and painted with vibrant wildflowers, the bucolic town of Storm, Texas, seems like nothing short of perfection.

  But there are secrets beneath the facade. Dark secrets. Powerful secrets. The kind that can destroy lives and tear families apart. The kind that can cut through a town like a tempest, leaving jealousy and destruction in its wake, along with shattered hopes and broken dreams. All it takes is one little thing to shatter that polish.

  Reading like an on-going drama in the tradition of classic day and night-time soap operas like Dallas
, Dynasty, and All My Children, Rising Storm is full of scandal, deceit, romance, passion, and secrets.

  With 1001 Dark Nights as the “producer,” Julie Kenner and Dee Davis use a television model with each week building on the last to create a storyline that fulfills the promise of a drama-filled soap opera. Joining Kenner and Davis in the “writer’s room” is an incredible group of New York Times bestselling authors such as Lexi Blake, Elisabeth Naughton, Jennifer Probst, Larissa Ione, Rebecca Zanetti and Lisa Mondello who have brought their vision of Storm to life.

  A serial soap opera containing eight episodes in season one, the season premiere of Rising Storm, TEMPEST RISING, debuts September 24th with each subsequent episode releasing consecutively this fall.

  So get ready. The storm is coming.

  Experience Rising Storm Here… http://risingstormbooks.com

  On behalf of 1001 Dark Nights,

  Liz Berry and M.J. Rose would like to thank ~

  Steve Berry

  Doug Scofield

  Kim Guidroz

  Jillian Stein

  InkSlinger PR

  Dan Slater

  Asha Hossain

  Chris Graham

  Pamela Jamison

  Jessica Johns

  Dylan Stockton

  Richard Blake

  BookTrib After Dark

  The Dinner Party Show

  and Simon Lipskar

  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8