My name is Misty Dawn, and when you get to be my age—that of a gray-haired senior citizen—not much surprises me. Some might say it’s because I’m a psychic, but psychics can’t read themselves. If I could, I would have planned better for my senior years, at least financially. I always thought things would just work out. I certainly never expected to be living with Bossypants, my cat, in the Volkswagon van I had used to caravan to California back in the sixties. Fortunately, a client of mine named Denise Thorne made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. She offered me an old craftsman her brother Wilson had been living in up until his unexpected death. She thought it would be perfect. I could once again hang out my shingle and go back to doing what I did best. . . reading people.

The only problem with that was the house wasn’t empty. My client’s brother was still there; in spirit that is. He was what I call a shade. A spirit neither of this world nor of the next—but caught between the two—and he wasn’t wild about having an old lady move in. For one, Wilson had been a set designer, and every room in the house had been designed to look like the set from a show he had worked on. The living room was an exact copy of the set from Sunset Boulevard, the bedroom from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and his study. . .well, you get the idea. He didn’t want people touching his things. And second, Wilson had no idea he was dead. It was up to me to break that news to him, as well as explain the rules of his shadehood.

What? You didn’t know there were rules?

Oh, believe me, there’s many. But trying to instruct a shade about the importance of such rules, while trying to carry on the business of reading clients who stop by and ask for my help, is like trying to catch water with a sieve.

Let me begin by explaining that Wilson is not my first shade. From time to time, the universe has provided me with a shade for the purpose of helping me to make contact with those on the other side of the veil. It’s generally a win-win for us both. The shade helps me while I help them to convince the universe of their worth.

Wilson, however, was a bit more resistant to the idea of helping me and fell into the category of being a recalcitrant spirit-guide. Again, not my first. But in Wilson’s case certainly a challenge. After I moved in, Wilson commenced with his amateurish hauntings; the rattling of pans, the slamming of doors, all in an attempt to frighten me off. I responded by washing my underwear in the bathroom sink and hanging my bra and panties over the shower rod.

The next morning I found them on the kitchen table, with my keys!

Game on. . .

It might have gone on like this for some time, were it not for the appearance of Zoey Chamberlain, a young actress, who arrived on my doorstep in need of my services. Wilson found her irresistible, and soon as I sent her on her way, made his presence known.

That’s when I started with the rules. The first three were fairly straight forward:

First: A shade’s condition is entirely temporary. The universe could yank him at any moment, and he best not get too comfortable.

Second: He was not to interfere with any of my readings.

Third: He must not, under any circumstances, make his presence known when others were in the room.

And finally, choosing to work with me was entirely optional. But if he chose to help me, and his acts were found to be unselfish, it might help to better his future. Wilson referred to that as the, “Earn your wings or not clause.”

The end result was I now have full run of the house. Wilson has taken over the study, and together we’re working to help Zoey stay out of jail. It appears since Zoey’s first visit, there’s been a murder. Zoey fears the house is haunted, and Wilson? Well, you’ll have to read it to believe it. He seems to think the house isn’t just haunted but on hallowed ground.

You can read more about Misty in The House of Hallowed Ground, the first book in the NEW “Misty Dawn” cozy paranormal mystery series, released September 10, 2019.

FROM DUST TO DAWN

When Misty Dawn, a former Hollywood Psychic to the Stars, moves into an old craftsman house she encounters the former owner, the recently deceased Hollywood set designer, Wilson Thorne.

Wilson is unaware of his circumstances and when Misty explains the particulars of his limbo state—how he might help himself if he helps her—he’s not at all happy. That is until Zoey Chamberlain, a young actress, comes to Misty’s door for help.

Zoey has recently purchased The Pink Mansion, a historic Hollywood Hills home, and believes it’s haunted. But when Misty arrives to search the house, it’s not a ghost she finds, but a dead body.

The police are quick to suspect Zoey of murdering her best friend. Zoey maintains her innocence and fears her friend’s death may have been a result of the ghost. . .and a long-time family curse.

Together Misty and Wilson must work to untangle the secrets of The Pink Mansion or submit to the powers of the family curse.

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About the author
Nancy Cole Silverman credits her twenty-five years in news and talk radio for helping her to develop an ear for storytelling. But it wasn’t until after she retired that she was able to write fiction full-time. Much of what Silverman writes about is pulled from events that were reported on from inside some of Los Angeles’ busiest newsrooms where she spent the bulk of her career. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Bruce, and Ali, her much pampered standard poodle.

To learn more about Nancy, visit her website at nancycolesilverman.com.

All comments are welcomed.