Ghost Dick (A Port Canyon Chronicle)

The last thing Wren Calloway needs is a roommate—especially one who's been dead for sixty years and refuses to act like it.

When Wren inherits her great-aunt's crumbling Victorian on the cliffs of Port Canyon, she expects dusty furniture and bad plumbing. What she gets is Cole Merritt: insufferable, sharp-tongued, devastatingly handsome, and completely, infuriatingly *transparent*. He haunts every room. He critiques her taste in music. He reads over her shoulder and calls her choices questionable. He is, without question, the most aggravating presence she has ever encountered—living or otherwise.

Cole spent decades alone in that house. He has rules. Boundaries. A carefully maintained indifference to the living world. Then Wren walks in with her chaos and her stubbornness and her habit of arguing back, and every wall he's built over sixty years of solitude starts to crack.

The problem with falling for a ghost isn't the obvious one. It's that he already knows exactly how this story ends—with her leaving, and him staying behind. Again. Always.

But Wren has never been good at walking away from a fight, and Cole is learning that some things linger long after they're supposed to disappear.

*Some love stories transcend the living. Some haunt you in all the right ways. This one does both.*