Men In Black Caught On Video, Forget Me Nots Part VI & Storm Island

Hello,

Feeling those Sunday night blues again?  Well, I have a treat for you.  Not only do I have Part VI of my Ghost Romance, Forget Me Nots but my spookiest video yet!!

Check out the two Men In Black standing behind me I caught on video last night! I have seen these men a lot especially when I am writing and standing in my room at night.  Have you ever experienced anything like this?

Remember you can see all of my videos of spirit & angel orbs, spirit faces & Men In Black on my Youtube channel Woman In Black.

I am off to continuing planning another romantic ghost murder mystery romance I mentioned in a previous post called The Writer & Her Ghost together with a supernatural Nordic Noir type mystery called Storm Island.  Watch this space for more details coming soon.


Enjoy Forget Me Nots & the video.  I guarantee you will be so shocked by what you see on the video you will chase those Sunday night blues away! :)

Sleep well and don't have any nightmares! :)

Sara

Forget Me Nots Excerpt Part VI

Chapter Six

Clarissa stroked her hand over the worn plain cover of the journal loving the feel of the piece of history placed before her.  Only another Historian would understand the deep pleasure she derived from touching history itself.

“It was found by one of Milton Taylor’s staff when she was clearing the house out.  She discovered it hidden in a secret compartment in one of the walls.  It survived the fire in the West Wing.  She passed it on to me and urged me to contact you.  It appears she is a fan of your work.”

“Fantastic.  What a lucky break!”

Clarissa moved to open the journal.  Brandon’s hand shot out to stop her.

“Not here.  Wait until you are on the Island to read it.  That way you can soak up the atmosphere and I can show you some of the places she mentions.”

“You’ve read it all?”

Brandon caressed his thumb over Clarissa’s knuckles.  Her hand still rested on the journal and he didn’t appear to want to allow her to move it.  Clarissa held her breath mesmerised by his loving soothing touch.  Every time the man made physical contact with her she tingled with the electricity dancing between them.  She never believed she would have that sense of connection with a man again after Tom and his violence.  It was rare she allowed a man this close or even dared to trust one.  They had been the enemy for so long now she always viewed men with suspicion and disdain.  Brandon clearly wanted to explore the attraction between them, of that she was in no doubt by his behaviour towards her but she wasn’t sure she could allow herself to.  The past would always hold her back.

“Yes I have and I am more than confident you will feel saddened like I did after reading it.  Sarah Elliott endured a lot of pain but she was one hell of a strong woman.  A lot like you, really.”

Clarissa gently pulled her hand away embarrassed by his unexpected comment.  Her self consciousness getting the better of her.  She said nothing.  Brandon sat back in his chair and gave a brief sigh before raising his cup to drink his coffee once more. 

Clarissa felt uncomfortable at the awkward silence hanging in the air over them.  She racked her brain for something to say, something non-contentious. 

“I haven’t seen a photograph of Sarah Elliot, her husband, Nathan or even her small child Ethan.  Do you have one of them?  Where there any left in the house when Milton Taylor departed?  I am dying to see what they looked like.  I have made up images in my mind but nothing compares to the truth and it would lend even more credibility to my investigation in the book.  With all of the research I’ve done on them I feel like I know them so well.”

Brandon was already shaking in his head.

“Sorry I haven’t come across any.  But we can conduct another search of the house when we get there if you like?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Clarissa took another hurried drink of tea.  It was cold.  She’d been talking too much.  She put it down disappointed making a mental note to order some more as soon as a waiter appeared.

“I keep wondering why they built their home on the Island and if the lack of photographic evidence means they were hiding from something.”

“Or someone,” Brandon speculated.

Finally, the waiter arrived with their food and she immediately requested another hot pot of tea.  Relieved she turned her attention to the plate of breakfast he’d placed in front of her.  The restaurant served Italian food.  Brandon had ordered a full breakfast complete with two poached eggs, sausage, tomato, mushrooms and scrambled eggs on toasted bread.

Clarissa had wanted to order a simple breakfast just an almond croissant.  Food was never a high priority, hadn’t been for a while.  She rarely ate well when stressed, anxious or in the middle of a book.  Writing consumed her body and soul.  If Liz didn’t ring to nag her about eating she would probably starve to death.

Brandon had raised an objection calling it a miserly breakfast.  On his insistence she was to order something more substantial.  The man had even had the audacity to tell her she needed fattening up.  So she’d opted for eggs and fungi or Eggs and mushrooms on toasted Italian bread just to placate him and keep the peace.

“Their whole existence and death was a mystery.  I can’t find anything to indicate what they might have been trying to protect themselves from.”

Brandon cut in to his food.

“I am sure you will solve the mystery in time, Ms Harding” he grinned.

“I am doing my best.  By the way, where did Milton Taylor go?  I didn’t think he would leave the Island until they carried him out in a box.”

Brandon laughed and lowered his voice to a whisper.  He leaned across the table towards her.

“They did.  It was supposed to be kept secret.  His last wish as an eccentric.  He died in his chair.  You might say he died with his boots on,” he chuckled.

Clarissa smiled.

“He was ninety-eight.  I suppose he had a good innings.”

“Innings?”

“It’s a cricket term.  It means he had a long successful life.”

“Interesting.  I am looking forward to learning more of your quaint British sayings.”

“English.  English please,” she laughed warming to him again.  “Trust me.  You wouldn’t call a Scotsman British.”

“Ok.  I will remember English girl.  I intend to base myself in England now.  Here on the Island to be precise and I hope you will be a frequent visitor.”

Clarissa lowered her head feeling bashful.  But with effort she raised her head and took a chance.

“I would like that very much.”

Brandon’s beautiful sea blue eyes swam with triumph.

“Good.  Now eat up.  We aren’t leaving here until you’ve finished your breakfast.  Someone needs to take you in hand, Clarissa and look after you.  It might as well be me.”

Chapter Seven

The rest of breakfast was spent leisurely and on more friendly terms.  The earlier altercation well and truly forgotten.  When it came time to drive to the jetty and meet the motor launch Clarissa was feeling more relaxed and excited rather than nervous. 

“I don’t know much about you, Brandon yet here I am ready to let you wish me off to a haunted Island and house, trusting you as though I have known you forever.  Where do you come from in the US?,” Clarissa asked walking along the wooden jetty towards the boat at the end just behind him.

Brandon jumped down in to the boat and leaned over stretching out his arm to reach for her hand.  She held it back with a frown and prepared to get in without assistance but he surprised her by snatching her hand and forcing her to accept his help.

“I am originally from a town in Wisconsin called Weybridge.  I grew up on my parents farm with a large family,” Brandon informed her, leading her by the hand to the back of the boat to a white leather seat.  “I work in New York during the week and spend my weekends at my home in Long Island.”

The billionaire sat down next to her.  Clarissa watched his security chief and another aide carrying her case jump down in to the boat and chat to the driver.

“Long Island looks so pretty when I see it on the television.  How did you become a billionaire?”

“This is beginning to sound like an interview.”

“I see.  It is all right to push me in to spilling my guts but you get to keep silent, is that it?”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s all boring stuff.  But if you want to hear it then I will tell you.  I was left some money from one of my uncles.  I invested it in the railways in the US.  I made a lot of money enough to buy a property in New York.  After doing it up, I sold it on and made a fortune, enough to invest in other properties and office real estate.  I diversified into Construction and then engineering.  I have my fingers in lots of pies.  It stops me getting complacent and keeps me on my toes otherwise I would get bored.”

Clarissa turned her head hearing a group of Canadian geese nearby floating regally on the water by the reeds.  The water was flat calm just like a mirror.  She could see the hills reflected on its surface.  The scenes as calming and idyllic.  Just what she needed.  Goldwater never failed to deliver contentment and peace with its beauty and serenity.

When she turned back Brandon was looking at her intently.  She got the feeling his eyes had been resting on her the whole time she had been musing.

“Lovely isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed looking up at the hills.

“I used to come to Goldwater to visit our English branch of the family every summer when I was a child and a teenager.  I was fascinated with the Island just like you.”

“I wonder what it is about the place?”

“The Island kept drawing me towards it.  I have never known why.  I wouldn’t care I had been dreaming about it off and on for a month after looking for a place in the area.  The minute it came up for sale at the end of last week I jumped on it and bought it for cash.  I moved in a couple of days ago.”

The driver started the engine and the motor launch pushed away from the side to begin its short journey towards Goldwater Island.  Clarissa rested her gaze on it growing more and more excited as they drew nearer.

“Why do I get the feeling our meeting was meant to be for some reason?” Brandon pondered.

“I don’t know but it does appear fated,” Clarissa agreed with a smile.

“The locals believe Goldwater Island is cursed.”

“I know.”

“No one will go near it.  I had to hire staff outside of Goldwater.  There have been lots of reports of ghosts online.  No wonder people are frightened.  I don’t believe in ghosts.  But everyone thinks I am deluding myself here.  Strange bright lights have been seen weaving through the trees at night.  A few have fishing permits from the Trust that owns the lake and when out early morning they have seen a phantom coach and horses been driven hard across the top of the lake.  It’s crazy stuff.  A couple out for a walk around the lake in the twilight have heard Sarah Elliott’s name being called by a man.”

Clarissa widened her eyes in surprise after her own experience the morning before.

“Maybe the ghosts will come out to play when you are there,” he laughed.