USA Today Bestselling Author Lauren Smith is an Oklahoma attorney by day, author by night who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including: New England Reader’s Choice Awards, Greater Detroit BookSeller’s Best Awards, and a Semi-Finalist award for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award. She was a 2018 RITA ® Finalist in the Romance Writers of America Contest. To connect with Lauren, visit her at www.laurensmithbooks.com

Haunted, schmaunted. 
Bastian, infamous playboy and the current Earl of Weymouth doesn’t believe his English castle is haunted. So what if a few windows and lightbulbs shatter? That happens. OK, bleeding portraits are hard to explain…  But he is not going to be deterred. Not even by Jane, a seductive-as-sin grad student who has assigned herself the task of ghost hunting at Stormclyffe Hall. All Bastian wants is to restore his ancestral home, not be distracted by her curvy hips, bedroom eyes and gorgeous smile—
 
Fine, maybe he does want to get naked with Ms. GhostBuster, but that’s only because she practically follows him around, nosing into his daily life. And yes, because she looks so damnably sexy, however, he refuses to give into lust.  No matter how much she tempts him.
But when the ghosts up the ante and try to kill them, Bastian realizes he will have to keep Jane close. Very, very close. Purely to protect her, of course.
 
At least that’s what he tells himself. All bets—and some clothes—are off, as he shows her what a real earl is made of.


The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall

"Jane." Bastian's voice was a low, gentle whisper in her ear.


She stirred, and her lashes fluttered up.


"Was I asleep?" she murmured. She was reclined on the couch, and Bastian was sitting on the edge, one hand braced on the back of the couch by her head as he leaned over. Worried lines marred his brow.


"Yes, I just came to fetch you. It's nearly two in the morning. You must be tired. Let me take you to your room." He brushed stray tendrils of her hair back and stroked her cheek with his the back of his knuckles. The intimate touch warmed her inside, and she leaned into the caress before she caught herself. He made it so easy to forget that things between them wouldn't work out. Still, she kept kissing him, getting closer and closer to him, when she knew she shouldn't.


Bastian's gaze strayed to the fire, weariness carving age in his youthful face.


Chapter 27