Marked By Lies: A Reverse Harem Series (The Marked Series Book 1) by Paige Orr (best english books to read for beginners .txt) 📕

effort to ignore him. Looking at them or showing them any sign that you can see them just makes things worse. It would surprise you how little it takes for a ghost to become obsessed with you, and once they know for sure that you can see them, they’ll never leave you alone!

I can't afford any distractions right now. My latest job is one of the biggest ones I’ve had since I started my private investigation business and I need to get it right to get my name out there. I really can’t mess this shit up or it'll be; goodbye lovely apartment in a prime location, and hello to a cardboard box down some pissy alleyway.

Checking out the window, I notice my stop up ahead and leap to my feet. I wouldn't normally get the bus, but my well-loved Subaru Legacy won't be back from the mechanics for another hour. Carefully I make my way to the front of the bus catching the driver's attention and I wait for him to pull the bus over at the stop before stepping off of the bus and making my way towards the bookstore just up ahead.

The sound of the bell ringing out loud and clear greets me as I open the shop door, the familiar smell of incense causes my shoulders to relax and a smile to tug at my lips. Once inside, I close the door, flicking the lock behind me and turning the open sign to closed. With that done, I make my way through the shelves to the back of the shop where a door stands ajar waiting for me.

Stepping through the beaded curtain hanging in the doorframe, I'm met with a load of clutter with a pathway cleared just wide enough to walk through without knocking things over. If it was anywhere else, I would have been shocked, but since this place is like my second home, I’m used to the way things are.

At the far end of the room, a globe stands in front of a bookshelf and as I get closer, I can see the top and bottom halves are misaligned. I slowly spin the top half until it matches up with the one below it. There's an audible click before the sound of concrete scraping together meets my ears. Gradually the bookcase opens up, revealing a staircase leading down into darkness. Bringing my cell phone from my pocket, I switch on the flashlight, following the stairs until the sound of Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings first movement fills the cave-like room that I've descended into.

Scanning my surroundings, I find the person I'm looking for in the far corner, sitting in an armchair and reading from what looks like an ancient tome. I look over the elderly woman from her straight white hair, white eyes from blindness, and her long gown that covers all of her skin apart from her hands and face. She fits the stereotypical image of a nice old lady, but she’s definitely still got her spark.

I met Adelaide the year after I found my mother dead during my search for the truth of what truly happened to her. I found my way to her little store filled with so much anger and wanting to take it out on the world. She took me under her wing so to speak, trying to teach me about the way to survive in our cruel and unforgiving world and giving me someone who felt like family. She helped me to work through all of that anger and gave me so much to focus on. I truly don’t know where I would be right now if it wasn’t for her.

Adelaide is a curious woman, and if it wasn't for the strange things that happen around me all the time, I'd probably be thinking she was nothing but a crazy old bat. That being said though, she always has this crazy sense of intuition. Most days she knows I will visit her before I ever decide that I need her guidance, and she always knows the perfect words that I need to hear. I’ve never been someone who believed the whole psychic shtick (I know that sounds stupid with what I can do, but humans aren’t known for being smart).

Making my way towards her, I stop a few feet away waiting for her to bookmark her page. A little piece of advice for you kids. If someone desecrates a book by folding down the corners of the page they’re on, instead of using a bookmark, then it's damn likely they’re a sociopath. So never trust someone who doesn't use a bookmark, books are way too important to ruin them like that! Her cloudy eyes snap up to meet mine and no matter how many times she's able to find the exact spot that I'm standing, I'm always left feeling shocked and confused when she finds me so easily. She’s never let her vision impairment hold her back and seeing that when I was so vulnerable showed me that no matter what you can do anything.

"Hello Melissa, I've been looking forward to your visit, my dear girl. It’s been far too long since you’ve graced this poor old woman with your presence, but as much as I love spending time with you, I know you don't have the time to entertain an old crone like me. So spit it out dear, what do you need me for today?"

Guilt twists in my stomach at the thought of how long it's been since I last visited to just sit and drink tea while hearing about how she's been. I know she didn't say that to guilt trip me, but that just makes me feel worse about it. Knowing she never has the patience for my self-depreciated outlook on things though, I cut to the chase, hoping that I find what I'm looking for sooner rather than later. Then I can