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Paranormal Suspense/Thriller

Paranormal Suspense/Thriller


“…The Lincoln R00m is an amazing read. Valerie Patterson has a talent for keeping the reader guessing. Mystery, suspense and a few ghosts make this a deliciously eerie way to spend a dark evening.” – Jan Douglas, Reviewer for Writers Unlimited Magazine.


“…I could SEE and SMELL The Lincoln Room. This isn’t a book to read on a dark day, especially not in a spooky old room in the library — save it for a sunny day by the pool when you have friends nearby.” – Karen Treanor, New Mystery Reader Magazine. 4 Stars.


The Lincoln Room has everything a ghost-loving reader should love. A town history of disease and death. A curse that hangs over the town and, especially, one family. And a woman the ghosts choose to set right what has been wrong all these years. There are many secrets hidden throughout the book and the diary reveals them slowly. There are enough surprises and twists to keep the most dedicated mystery reader happy.” Rose, Long and Short Romance Reviews.



Highlands, Pennsylvania has a deadly secret and Alexaundra Jerdan’s life hangs in the balance as she digs away at the truth!

Alexaundra Jerdan has returned to Highlands. Born and raised there in the local orphanage, she left after her high school to pursue a college degree that led to a career as a stockbroker. She’s returned to her hometown to find peace and quiet, and begin a new career…in writing.

The need for research leads her to the town library where she finds solitude in the Lincoln Room. Most of the townspeople avoid this room…it’s reputed to be haunted by a host of women who have died here by means of a secret rite.

But Alex isn’t afraid of ghosts so the empty room suits her perfectly. She’s able to dive into her research without interruption. When a librarian assistant brings her a book found in the stacks, Alex begins a course of discovery that leads her straight to…

Seth Kizer, Highland’s handsome sheriff. He’s dedicated to his job. He’s proud to be a Kizer, and he’s relentless in one thing–warning Alex to stay away from the Lincoln Room. Will his warnings–as well as his family’s secret–prevent him from getting close to Alex once she learns the truth about her hometown’s history?

The ghosts of the women who have died there begin to appear to her. All of them have the same plea – they want her to read the diary. They want her to know that she’s the only person who can help the next woman to be sacrificed…the one who got away.


Angrier than she could ever remember being, Alex threw the diary with a force the Pittsburgh Pirates would be proud of. Instead of crashing off the far wall, the book hovered midair, then turned abruptly, and flew with great speed toward Alex. She held up her arms, protecting her face and head. The book smashed into her forearms before falling to the floor.

Frozen, steel-like fingers grasped each of her arms, yanking them down, and pinning her to the arms of the chair. The air around her moved, and Alex was flung backward, the chair and her body crashing to the floor.

Both terrified and angry, Alex jumped to her feet. “You’re a coward, Esther,” she seethed. “You’re so afraid of me that you can’t even show yourself. You attack like a coward. If I had seen you coming, it would have been you lying on this floor, not me.”

Immediately, Esther Kizer materialized not more than two feet from where Alex stood. There was a fierce whirlwind surrounding her, her dress and her hair billowing about. She pointed at Alex, and her voiceless mouth moved angrily then suddenly, it grew calm around her, her dress and hair ceasing to move.

Alex turned slowly, seeing for the first time the wall of Kizer women who had circled her, forming a formidable wall that even Esther seemed afraid of.

“Th-thank you,” Alex said softly. “Where were you when she flung me to the floor?”

Betsy seemed to smile at her joke, and Alex realized she had been telling the truth. They would protect her from Esther. They were gone as quickly and as silently as they had appeared, taking the evil one with them and restoring the room to order.

Alex looked at the diary on the corner of the table and debated whether or not she should continue. It was almost as if she were being led to read the book. Almost as if she were unable to prevent herself from reading the diary. She looked around the room. Aloud she said, “Are you able to do that? Trick me into thinking I want to read this awful book?”

No answer came.

Opening it back up, she turned to Annie’s next entry.

I have been re-reading the entries of Aunt Ruth and Mama, and I am at peace with the impending introduction.

Gone from the handwriting were the flowery curves and wisps. It became almost wooden and very precise. Alex knew Annie had resigned herself to her fate, not accepted it.

Ian brought home a new dress for me. I cried, but did not allow him to see the tears for he has never had the inclination to buy me a dress before. Of course, it is very beautiful, and it is what I will wear when I meet Grandmother Eliza. I must look my absolute best when I meet her so that Mama will be proud of me. I sense that she is still angry with me.

Ian and I have been spending more intimate moments together than we have since the days of starting our family. I cherish the time together for I shall not have the opportunity to love him for much longer. I love the feel of my husband’s arms, and feeling his warm, naked chest beneath my cheek. It is a pleasure I shall miss for an eternity.

I have talked to Clara and Cora, my daughters of six and ten years old. I have told them the stories as I have told Emily. All three girls now know the legacy they bear being Kizer women. My heart breaks when I think of my poor Ian for he will lose all three of them four years apart. They are proud Kizer girls and they will grow to be proud Kizer women. Just like their mama.

Alex couldn’t control the tears as they stung her eyes then streamed over her lashes. Her heart ached for the lives and deaths of those three little girls knowing they were born to die. Born to carry out a ritual that served only to ensure the wealth and health of men. How could a father murder his wife then lead his children to that same fate? Were their lives worth so little? Or was the value too great?

Alex drew her sleeve roughly across her face, crudely removing all traces of moisture. Literally, the accounts in that diary made her sick. She cursed the day Shelley had set it down, encouraging her to read it.

Laying the offensive literature aside, Alex shoved her laptop into her bag then grabbed the rest of her things before hightailing it out of that wretched room. It surprised her that she was free to go, but then she remembered Betsy’s promise. She needed a stiff drink and a hot bath, and she pitied the person who tried to come between her and that bath.

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