Grateful
(yeah, that’s her name) has just moved into an old house with a backyard…of
tombstones. Her new neighbor lives up the road and happens to be the caretaker.
Oh, and he also happens to be drop-dead gorgeous. So, living next to a hottie
and dead people? Eh, not so bad.
Strange
things keep happening in that house though. Was it haunted?
A call
asking Grateful if she’s the sorter. A what? Sorter?
Soon, she
starts talking to the ghost of the house and realizes that he seems harmless.
Dare I say that she was even falling for the ghost? But who could she trust:
the ghost or the caretaker? And what does her birth and mother have to do with
any of it? And why was the caretaker feeding her sexual subliminal messages?
This was an
interesting mystery, and the reader savors each tantalizing truth. She was the
Monk Hills Witch—sorter of the dead and fighter against the unholy. Cool!
I liked how
relatable Grateful was and that she wasn’t so quick to believe all this
mumbo-jumbo. She was fast and witty.
My rating: 3.5 stars
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