Love Bytes is delighted to have as a guest today author Parker Williams joining us to talk about his new release “The Spirit Key”.

Parker has a special treat for us with an exclusive scene , shares an excerpt and brought a giveaway you can participate in!

Welcome Parker 🙂

Do you know what it’s like? No, of course you don’t. No one could. I mean, seriously? Who sees dead people? Well, me, I guess.

 

After I came back from the dead—which isn’t nearly as cool as it sounds—I was faced with spirits of the recently departed. Think Beetlejuice without the laughs. I was ten, and I was seeing them constantly. Even though most of them stayed on the periphery of my sight, they were there, imploring me to help them. Late at night, I could hear the whispered pleas, begging me for…something.

 

Sleep came less and less. Mom and Dad thought it was something to do with my dying, but how could they know what I would see every time I closed my eyes? How could they know ghosts haunted my life—real and dream—and it was all too damn much?

 

Though all of the ghosts scared me, there was one in particular. She was old, maybe my mom’s age, like thirty-five. Her face, what was left of it, had been beaten to a pulp. Her eyes were filled with red, and her skin was mottled in black and blue marks. Every night, just after I fell asleep, she would come to me and sit by my bed. She’d take my hand and hold it. The chill would wake me, and I had to bite back a scream every time I saw her.

 

“What do you want?”

 

Her lip jutted out, and I could see the blood there, pooling in her mouth. “He was your age, you know.”

 

Her voice sent shivers up my spine. It was cracked and broken.

 

“My little Eli. He was only nine.”

 

“I’m ten.”

 

She nodded. “Yes, you are. You’re going to be a big boy soon, aren’t you? Eli won’t ever have that chance.”

 

Her sadness tore at me. “What? Why?”

 

“My husband, Eli’s father, found him dancing one day in front of the mirror. He was enraged, and called my boy a faggot. He was ten. Boys like to move. And he…he hit Eli, knocking him back against the cabinet. He fell to the floor, blood scoring his face. I went nuts and picked up a baseball bat and hit my husband. He laughed and told me it was my fault that his kid was a fag. With everything in me, I swung again, this time connecting with his face. His eyes went wide, like he was surprised that I could hurt him. He crumpled down and lay on the floor, breathing harshly. I ran to Eli and… He was dead. My son, my whole reason for living, was dead.”

 

That sucked. “What did you do?”

 

She swallowed hard. “I picked up the bat again and started beating my husband. I hit him over and over, until he stopped moving. Then I went to the bathroom, filled the tub with hot water, and got in.”

 

She hesitated.

 

“What? Tell me?”

 

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I went to sleep and never woke up, just like Eli. Only now I can’t find him, and I don’t even know if he’s okay.”

 

I wanted to help her. The sadness she was feeling overwhelmed me, but… “I’m sorry.”

 

“You can help her, you know.”

 

I turned to find another woman in the room with us. She was beautiful. Long, dark hair, and deep brown eyes, kind of like hot cocoa.

 

“How?”

 

“The key can do many things. For this moment, you can help her to move on. Her son is waiting for her with whatever comes next. Tell her that.”

 

“Why can’t you?”

 

“Only you can see me.”

 

I brought my attention back to Eli’s mom. “Eli’s waiting for you.”

 

Her eyes brightened. “He is?”

 

I nodded. “He needs you to find him, though. He needs you.”

 

“Oh.” She put a hand over her chest. “How do I find him?”

 

That was something I didn’t have an answer for. I looked back at the other woman, who gave me an expectant look. “Ask if she sees a light calling for her. That’ll be Eli.”

 

“Do you see a light?”

 

“Oh, yes. It’s beautiful. I’ve wanted to see what it was, but it scared me.”

 

“That light is Eli, and he’s ready for you.”

 

“Really?” She looked over her shoulder. “I can see it now. Do you think… Will it be okay?”

 

“Yes, I’m sure it will be.”

 

She threw her arms around me, and warmth flooded my body. “Thank you.”

 

Without another word, she stepped away from me and slowly disappeared. I went back to the woman. “What happened?”

 

“She’s found peace.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Someone who is watching over you as best as she can.” She gestured for the bed. “Lie down and rest. In the morning you won’t remember any of this except as snatches of a dream. One day, when you’re older, it’ll be second nature for you to want to help, but for now, do your best to be a little boy.”

 

She put a hand on my head. Her touch was warm, and it made me sleepy. I put my head on the pillow, and wondered what she was talking about. I was already a big boy, so how much longer before I understood?

 

With that thought in mind, I drifted off to sleep.

 

Tim glared at me. “You were ten? How the hell, Scotty?”

 

The love of my life sat across from me, listening intently to my story. “It was like another life. I’m just now starting to remember some of them. Even back then, she was guiding me and using me to help people.”

 

I can’t believe the things I’d forgotten, but now with Tim at my side again, I would strive to make every one of those memories come back.

 

Author Name: Parker Williams

Book Name: The Spirit Key

Series:  Lock and Key #1

Release Date: January 15, 2019

74,439 words

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Book Categories: Ghosts/spirits/paranormal

Blurb:

 

Lock and Key: Book One

When he was eight years old, Scott Fogel died. Paramedics revived him, but he came back changed. Ghosts and spirits tormented Scott for over a decade until, thinking he was going mad, he did the only thing he could.

He ran—leaving behind his best friend, Tim Jennesee.

Scott’s had five normal, ghost-free years in Chicago, when the spirit of Tim’s mother comes to him and begs him to go home because Tim’s in trouble and needs him.

He isn’t prepared for what he finds when he goes home—a taller and sexier Tim, but a Tim who hasn’t forgiven Scott for abandoning him… a Tim whose body is no longer his own. The ghost of a serial murderer has attached itself to Tim, and it’s whispering dark and evil things. It wants Tim to kill, and it’s becoming harder for Tim to resist. To free the man who has always meant so much to him, Scott must unravel the mystery of the destiny he shares with Tim.

Sales Links:

Dreamspinner Press

Amazon

 

SUMMER, 2002

 

WHAT MEMORY stands out most in your mind from when you were a kid? For many of my friends, it was getting a good grade on a test they were sure they’d fail, making a catch during a football game, or finding out the person they were crushing on liked them back. For others, it was more physical, like their first kiss or having sex for the first time.

For me, the one that topped that list was in the summer of 2002. The memory? Me dying. Well, almost dying. I mean, technically, I was dead for twenty-seven minutes, at least according to the paramedics and doctors.

See, I had gone down to the quarry with my brother and some of his friends. I was eight at the time, and to be invited to go along with the “big kids” was a heady thing.

Okay, fine. My mom told them they had to take me, but they weren’t supposed to let me know.

That’s not the point of the story, however. Still, between us, when your brother tells you that Mom said he had to take you and that you ruined his day by dying? That kind of sticks with you.

Anyway. The whole week had been hotter than hell—upper nineties, heat index topping a hundred, with no breeze at all. What made it worse was the humidity. Everyone complained their clothes stuck to them, and we all would have given anything for a bit of cool air. Those were the days you wanted to do nothing more than stretch out in front of the air conditioner and fantasize about being in the arctic.

Of course, those are also the times that drive Mom mad, like when we’re there, whining about how hot it is, and my brother announces he’s going swimming with his friends, and she tells him to take me along to the quarry with him.

Fine. I’m a little hostile over that memory, but in my defense, I died, so I think I have a right to be a tad grumpy.

Moving on….

There were a few old trees that stretched out over a pit of water. In the seventies, the place had been used to mine rocks that were crushed to use in gardens and the like. When the company that owned it shut down, it left a huge hole in the ground. Over time, it filled with water, which attracted kids from all over, wanting to swim. That was our destination for the day.

By the time we got there, all of our T-shirts had soaked with sweat. I distinctly remember looking at Cole Turner and seeing wisps of dark hair on his chest and wondering to myself what it would look like once he took his shirt off. I wasn’t sure why that thought flitted through my head, but it was gone just as quickly, because I saw Tim Jennesee sitting on a rock, taking off his shoes.

“Tim!”

He turned and smiled at me, waving like a freak. I took off running. Tim had been my best friend forever—which at the time was probably a few months, but in my eight-year-old mind, that qualified as a really long time—and seeing him there was a surprise. Normally he preferred to stay inside and play on the computer, indulging in game worlds like the Sims. Later he graduated to MMORPGs like EverQuest, with the promise that one day he would be creating them instead of playing someone else’s.

I got to where he sat and took my spot at his side. He nudged me with his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were going to be here!”

“Ryan asked me to come along.” See? I thought my brother was all cool and stuff. Shows how much I knew.

“Really? My mom said I had to get out of the house. I figured I’d come swimming for a while. I tried to call, but—”

“We were already on our way here.”

I hadn’t thought to call him, and I felt bad… for about three seconds. I was with Tim and the day had gotten a thousand times better. His dark hair shone in the sun, and his brown eyes sparkled. Being with him was enough to make me smile, and having him there with me made the day perfect.

Okay, here’s where things go to shit, so you’ll have to indulge me a bit. I don’t often discuss my death with people, because they ask all kinds of inane questions, and I’m so over that shit.

There was a big tree that stretched out over the watery pit. Someone had climbed it, tied off a rope, then knotted it at the other end. See, the idea was to grab hold, push off, and soar out into the nothingness, then arc high in the sky before letting go and plunging into the water, sinking, then rising once again until you broke the surface, then rushed to have another turn.

Doesn’t that sound idyllic? Like a Norman Rockwell painting or something?

Yeah, you’d think that.

It was my turn. I’d hedged about it all day, because I hated the idea of being so high in the air and falling. Ryan openly mocked me, and his friends teased me to no end. When Tim got up and announced he was going to do it, well, that raised the bar right there. How could my best friend do it, while I was too chicken?

Wrapping his hands around the rope, Tim ran and leaped off the edge, soaring into the air with a loud cry. Then, as he reached the apex of the arc, he let go. For a moment everything stopped, as he rose a little higher, then hung in the air before he dropped like a stone, laughing all the way.

When he broke the surface of the water a few seconds later, my heart started beating again.

“So, nerdy Tim can do it, but little Scotty is too much of a baby.”

It’s funny how you don’t remember how much of an ass your brother was when you were a kid, isn’t it?

“I’m not a baby!”

“Then prove it, chicken.”

“Fine!”

I stormed over to the rope and took hold of it. I glanced down into the murky pit, and my heart stuttered once more.

“Come on, Scott. It’s fun!”

Tim came jogging over, water sluicing down his chest, his hair matted to his forehead. Weirdly, that stray thought about Cole? Yeah, so over it. Now it was Tim that I was staring at.

“Okay.”

I was going to make Tim proud of me. I didn’t understand why, but thinking of him running over and hugging me, telling me how great I’d done? It became the only thought in my head at the moment.

I turned back and set myself, ready to do it. One quick glance at Tim, who nodded at me, and I rushed to the edge, jumped, and flew.

It was amazing. One second gravity has been conquered, and you’re flying up, up, up. Then you remember that everyone is gravity’s bitch, and you’re jerked back down. I hit the water, flush with pride over having done it.

When I flapped my arms to go back to the surface, though, that was when shit got real.

I couldn’t move my foot. Something had wrapped around it and held me below the surface. In my mind, a shark had grabbed me and was dragging me down. I struggled, trying to swim up, and my lungs burned.

You have to know, at this time, my mind had refused to believe I was going to die. It kept screaming for me to fight, to do whatever the hell I had to in order to get back to the surface. And I fought as hard as I could. Only….

At one point, I thought I’d gotten free, and my struggles to swim back to the surface intensified. I pushed hard against the water, trying to get up, back into the sun, but then I knew I was still stuck, and I had no more breath in my lungs.

I remember opening my mouth to scream for Tim to help me, but the murky water rushed in, and I choked, which led to more water being drawn into my body. Everything sort of went hazy and then shifted to black.

I’d died.

Goodreads link

Parker Williams began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family.

Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and happily-ever-after always has a price tag.

Website: www.parkerwilliamsauthor.com

Twitter: @ParkerWAuthor

Facebook: www.facebook.com/parker.williams.75641

Email: parker@parkerwilliamsauthor.com

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