Love Among the Ruins by Deena Remiel

Author:Deena Remiel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, passion, time travel, paranormal fantasy, a fabled irish sea god, a vengeful italian ghost, an anasazi princess, ancient traditions, four story anthology, love knows no bounds
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group

Chapter Two

Inisheer Island

Ten years later

Fiona eased herself out of the rocking chair and poked new life into the dying embers of the fire she’d lit earlier in the morning. An unusual chill crisped the air on a June day that should have been rather delightful, and Fiona couldn’t seem to warm up. Quite the coincidence that it had been ten years to the day that she’d lost her Connor. It felt as cold outside as she felt inside. Adding another log to the fire, she scoffed. Maybe she should just sleep the day away.

Returning to her seat, she picked up the afghan she’d been knitting and rested it on her lap as she sat back down and groaned. “Oh, dearie me! What am I? A thirty-two-year-old woman? I feel more like one hundred!”

Over the course of ten long years without Connor, much had changed, and not for the better. Today, as she sat knitting, she could finally and completely admit to many failings on her part since that fateful day. She barely ate anymore, so she could thank herself for always being cold and presenting a gaunt appearance. The lighthouse had fallen into as much disrepair as she. The spotlight still worked, and she tended to her obligations with the same seriousness she always had. But there were things that needed tending to there and about the house that she didn’t give a rat’s arse about.

She was a ghost living out her days until she received some sign from the gods that she could be done with it all. Having spent nearly her entire life with Connor, being without him felt like she’d had a piece of her mind, heart, and soul forever removed. The chime on the grandfather clock told her it was time to check the bulbs and wash down the windows. She took a long sip of coffee and exchanged the afghan for a wool peacoat. She grabbed the handle of the cleaning bucket and readied to leave the cozy home in favor of the austere lighthouse.

As she approached, shame filled her heart. Weeds pushed through the cracks of the pavement and the grass had been allowed to grow unfettered. Paint peeled in sheets off the outer shell of the structure. What an insult! A disgrace! How could she have let this happen for all these years?

She hadn’t cared. She died the day Connor died, and their property suffered collateral damage in the process. It seemed as though the chilled air somehow awakened her from a ten-year slumber, and now she saw her land and life for the shambles she’d allowed it to become. With every pass of the window squeegee, she layered on admonishments. But where did she begin to make repairs? It was too much for her to contemplate. Hating herself, her life, was much easier. Finished with the windows, she faced the ocean before her and shook an angry fist.

“I hate ye with every fiber of my bein’, and if I could, I woulda been gone from here years ago!” A gust of wind whipped her hair about her head.

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