If Tombstones Could Talk blurb and excerpt

This one's for Penelope. :) As with Dragonfly Dreams, if you purchase a copy of If Tombstones Could Talk before the end of August, you can enter The Wild Rose Press's contest to win a FREE Sony e-Reader! This is my first attempt at a paranormal, and man, was it fun to write! Enjoy.

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History aficionado Melanie Sparks takes a walking tour of the cemetery in her new Colorado town and learns more about one of the past residents than she ever could've imagined. The story behind Andrew Lindeman's tragic death during the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush in 1859 triggers dreams in which she relives his last moments. She’s drawn closer to the handsome ghost while she resolves to clear his tarnished name. A passionate kiss sets his spirit free, but will Melanie lose her heart for good?

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It’d started to sprinkle. Gray clouds had moved in to block out the morning sun, and it was supposed to storm sometime that morning. But after that dream, you couldn’t pay her to turn back. Excitement fluttered in her stomach as she passed through the gate and approached the oak tree.
“Andrew?”
No response. She looked around, searching for anything out of the ordinary. The air remained still. The muted ping of raindrops striking the leaves above her was the only noise to reach her ears. She touched the tombstone for a second. Cool. Did that mean anything? She knelt and held her palm over his name, but nothing happened.
Feelings of foolishness began to replace her initial disappointment. She pulled her hand away with an irritated sigh and rose to her feet. An earthy, musky scent teased her senses, making her pause. The air shifted and suddenly he materialized to the left of the granite tombstone.
“Good morning.”
She took a deep breath and managed a nervous smile. “Good morning.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”
“Yes, well, I wasn’t entirely sure I wasn’t going crazy yesterday.”
“And today you have determined you are not?”
“I haven’t determined anything yet, but...” She trailed off, not sure what reason to give as to why she’d come back today. “I went to the museum yesterday. I saw your picture.”
His form shifted and a smile graced his lips. “Ah, you now have physical evidence to back up your—hallucination. Is that not what you called me?”
“Give me a break, I’ve never experienced something like this before,” she defended.
“Neither have I.” He paused, then his smile widened. “May I have the pleasure of your name, Miss...?”
“Sparks. Melanie Sparks.” She extended her hand to him.
His gaze flicked down, then back up as his dark brows lifted sardonically while his hand remained at his side. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Sparks.”
Melanie dropped her hand as heat flooded her cheeks. Of course he couldn’t shake her hand. “Call me Melanie, please.” His head dipped slightly in acknowledgement. Their gazes held for a long moment. His eyes. She could become lost in them and feel as if she’d never left home. A thousand questions begged to be voiced, yet she had no idea what to say.

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Stacey Joy Netzel