Cover Reveal: Ghosts of Midsummer Theatre

Here it is my lovely readers~ the cover for Ghosts of Midsummer Theatre, Revenant Investigations book four ❤

releasing October 31st!


In 1956, the Midsummer Theatre—Noble, Maine’s most popular playhouse—closed after the daughter of the owners was murdered. Unfortunately, her killer was never found. The owners did not want the theatre opened again, but when the theatre passed into the hands of their grandson, he decided that it was time to renovate and reopen.

But the ghosts of the past don’t just fade away. 

As a two year anniversary present, medium and paranormal investigator Arabella Pierce arranges for a private investigation for her and her love, Lucas Brown. Not only to help the owner get answers about his aunt’s murder, but to help keep interest in the theatre until it reopens. But as the investigation gets underway, Arabella and Lucas quickly learn that the darkness behind the murder still lingers, and if they don’t remove that darkness the theatre can never again open its doors.

They have forty-eight hours to solve the mystery of Midsummer Theatre, and every second will count.

SALE ALERT: Ghosts of Kingston Cottage

Ghosts of Kingston Cottage is on sale today through Monday for $0.99!

The first book in the Revenant Investigations series 🙂 ❤



Medium and paranormal investigator Arabella Pierce is sent with her crew to Kingston Cottage, a haunted Maine seafarer’s cottage on an isolated island. For this investigation, her boss has stuck them with skeptical reporter Lucas Brown. Though he’s hot as they come, Arabella can’t trust a man whose sole job is to discredit her and the work she does. Not after what happened with the last few skeptics…

All Lucas may want is the truth, but that doesn’t change her feelings towards him. And when the ghosts appear, she and Lucas must work together—in tight quarters—to convince the resident ghosts to move on before a storm strands the entire crew on the island. Can Arabella put aside her prejudices long enough to see what the ghosts are trying to tell her? And if she does, will she and Lucas have a shot at a lifetime?


Ghosts of Trenton House Excerpt

Here is a snippet from Ghosts of Trenton House (Revenant Investigations, book two) ❤

Amazon ~ Evernight Publishing ~ Goodreads ~ Bookstrand Barnes and Noble ~ Smashwords


copyright@Libby Bishop


Oh, how Lena Tompson wished she was still at home, curled up on the couch watching Pride and Prejudice—the Colin Firth version, of course—instead of at the Revenant Investigations office for an emergency meeting. But that wish wasn’t going to come true. When her boss, Folger, had called they all knew to come immediately. She had and now Knox Trenton, the former love-of-her-life, sat in her boss’s office with his forehead creased from worry.

            “I’m very sorry to drag you all here at this hour,” Knox said. “But there’s an emergency at Trenton House.”

            Arabella Pierce—coworker, medium, and Lena’s best friend—spoke up. “What do you mean?” she asked.

            Knox rubbed his eyes. Lena could feel just how worried he was. Having grown up with and seriously dated Knox, she knew this wasn’t normal for him. Something had to be dreadfully wrong in order for him to be bleeding emotions so strongly. As a high-level empath, he was very good at guarding himself, unless unduly stressed or tired.

Lena reached out with her own empathic gifts to search his feelings, and a brick wall slammed down.

“Nana has done something,” he replied, dread lightly imbedded in his tone.

            Oh, dear. When his great-grandmother did something to earn that tone of voice it normally meant another feud was brewing with someone, probably a family member. The elderly spitfire was too fiery for her own good, at times. “What did Imogene do?”

            “You both know the story of my great-grandmother and her twin sister, Ruth.”

            “Hard to forget,” Arabella replied.

            While the story was well known, not many knew the details as Lena and Arabella did. He’d told them in Junior High. And a hell of a story it was.

            He turned to Folger. “I’m going to tell you the story, but I ask that you keep it to yourself, for your records. This is a very sensitive issue.”

            Folger raised his hand. “What you tell us goes no further than this room.”

            Knox sighed. “Thank you. My great-aunt Ruth conjured my great-grandpa Duke’s spirit when he died of a heart attack in his mid-thirties. She wanted to punish her sister for allowing him into the family and betraying her. Their father trusted Duke and had learned to love him as a son, so he willed Trenton House to Duke and Nana. Ruth was furious with her sister for allowing such a thing, saying she was betrayed, even though their father left her and her husband well over five hundred thousand dollars and the country house at the edge of town.” He paused, sighing. “Most of the family believes her objection was solely about Duke’s name being put on the house. I think it’s safe to say if it had been just Nana’s name on the deed, Ruth wouldn’t have been so vehement about the whole thing.”

            Lena had been to that country house a few times—a beautiful home, on a lovely four-acre plot of land. But Duke being willed Trenton House and watching it fall into his hands, even with Imogene there, had only been the beginning––the spark, to ignite the rest of the Trentons’ sisterly feud.

Lena had seen no real ‘ill will’ between Knox and his cousins, but their parents… Well, there was a reason she never liked going to the family get-togethers. Their barely veiled animosity was like ice, cracking against her skin. Knox tried to shield her from most of it, but the intensity was too great for him to block it all. Lena tolerated events the best she could, but finally admitted they’d taken a toll on her, and her view of their relationship.

            “And no one knows where Ruth trapped Duke’s spirit,” Arabella said, leaning back against the couch and crossing her legs. “Ruth took that information to the grave.”     “Knox,” Folger said, “tell them what Imogene did.”

            Hesitation lightly touched the air, held clear in his dark brown eyes when he glanced at her. All thoughts of their past momentarily fled when Lena saw it—something was very wrong, all right, and worry twisted her gut. “Knox?”

            He fidgeted in his chair, until he settled for sitting with his back completely straight as if someone had pulled a string upward, and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“Nana…raided Ruth’s crypt at our family’s private cemetery and stole a necklace from her coffin.”

            Lena’s mouth dropped in shock. “She did what?”

            “That’s not all. When she returned to the house and tried to call her husband’s spirit to her, she ended up summoning Ruth instead.”

            “Oh my God,” Lena whispered.

            Knowing what she did of Ruth—whom she’d met only once, at a birthday party shortly before her death—Lena could just imagine how the ghost was taking being summoned by her sister. Death did little to quell emotions. “What do you need us to do?”

            He stood, putting his hands in his pants pockets. “I need you two to come talk to Nana and Ruth, to try to calm them down before they destroy the entire house battling each other, and tear the family completely apart in the process.”

            “What do you mean?” Arabella asked.

            “My great uncles, Silas and Wick, are threatening to sue me and my two brothers for both the house and guardianship of Nana, if we don’t deal with the situation in the next two weeks. They’re threatening to put her in the Jasmine Home for the Gifted.”

            Not good, not good. The Jasmine Home was built specifically to care for elderly people who had special gifts, especially ones who couldn’t control their gifts anymore, or those who committed such an act as Knox’s great-grandmother had. The home served most of coastal Maine, with other smaller homes scattered throughout the state.

Imogene would consider it a prison, and that did not bode well for those around her.

            “Does Imogene know?” Lena asked. “What about Silas and Wick’s children?”

            “I told her today. As for Silas and Wick’s children, they’ve agreed to help their fathers if Nana doesn’t undo what she’s done. All but Brendon, who’s trying to help me.”

            She took a deep breath. “Brendon always did have a good head on his shoulders.” Thank goodness. At least Knox had someone in the family to lean on, to turn to when the rest were ready to stab him in the back.

His eyes softened, and for a split second she felt her heart melt, just a little. That was enough for the memories to return, both the good and the heartbreaking, and Lena suddenly remembered she was still in her pajamas—the emergency call from Folger had kept her in her blue flannel bottoms and a lightweight hooded sweatshirt, a pair of winter boots on her feet. She forced herself not to squirm or shift her position, keeping her slight embarrassment to herself as she remained relaxed on the couch. Though, the resulting shame was not so much because she was in her pajamas as it was having Knox see her, at her place of employment no less, in said pajamas.

            “As I’ve mentioned, I’d like you and Arabella to come to the house and talk with Nana and Ruth, see what you can figure out, and see if you can get Ruth to hand over Duke’s spirit. Nana will never move on without him and the two of them will feud forever in Trenton House if we can’t deal with this.”

            “Do you want video or anything?” Arabella asked.

            “Not yet. See what Nana wants to do first, then we’ll go from there.”

            “The family doesn’t know you’re meeting with us, do they?” Lena surmised.

            “Just Brendon, which is why I’m here so late. I’m heir to the house and executor of Nana’s will—they know not to stop me from hiring outsiders to deal with this, as that could hurt their chances of getting hold of their sister and the house for good. But they would do everything in their power to keep me from doing so, which is why only Brendon knows I’m here. Our dirty laundry may be legend in this town, but they’d like to keep it legend, not truth.”

            Lena knew that last part already. Trentons didn’t air their dirty laundry, which was no doubt one of the reasons he’d been hesitant to ask for aid. The family was rich but not stuck-up, though they were very big on maintaining their public image. Anything that would taint the picture of a loving, hardworking, strong and happy family unit in the least was quickly swept under a rug and guarded fiercely. That had also made it hard to be around the family, and not just because she was an empath. Lena had struggled with their tight lips more than once—it made it near impossible to truly get close to those Knox cared for, and made it difficult for him to open up.

            He trusted her, she knew, but there was a difference between trusting someone as a good friend and trusting someone with the family secrets as a partner in love. He’d told her everything through their years as friends and lovers—she cherished that. And she’d kept those secrets, always would. Only Arabella knew what had really transpired when they’d broken up.

“When do you want us to start?” Lena inquired, thankful her tone came out normal even though her stomach was roiling.

            “Tomorrow morning. Can the two of you be at the house around eight-thirty?”

            “Of course,” Arabella replied, then turned to Folger. “You’re okay with all this, I take it?”

            “Yes. If you end up needing some tech, call Nick and Kate.”

            Lena met Knox’s gaze. “Your uncles gave you two weeks to get this resolved. Are they watching the house? Watching you?”

            “Watching me? No, not that I’ve felt, anyway. Nor have they been around the house since she conjured Ruth. I think they’re biding their time until they can make their move. Nana and Ruth are keeping other ghosts from entering the house. They haven’t done anything to the ghosts already in the house, though.”

            Her heart panged. The ghosts that visited Trenton House were all dearly loved family. The fact that Ruth and Imogene were keeping them out of their home was heartbreaking and troubling. “We’ll be there bright and early,” she said.

            Knox’s gaze shifted, worry reaching Lena, a weight that tugged and hummed underneath her skin.  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

A Ghostly Surprise

I’ve mentioned a surprise I was working on for the holiday season. Well, here it is:


That’s right- a boxset of books 1-3 of the Revenant Investigations series is coming your way from Evernight Publishing soon! In both ebook and print 🙂

I’m incredibly excited about this set, and I hope you are as well. As soon as I have a release date, I will let you know 🙂

Ghosts of Emerald Bay Excerpt

Here is an excerpt of Ghosts of Emerald Bay for your Saturday reading pleasure 🙂 I hope you all have a great day!

Evernight Publishing ~ Amazon ~ ARe ~Bookstrand ~ Smashwords


Fog shrouded the winter morning, cloaking the lighthouse in a beautiful cloud of eerie white and light gray tones. The light at the top was beaming, a warning to those braving the northern Atlantic.

Kate stepped out of her car, and despite how chilly it was—a balmy twenty-two degrees above zero—she took her phone out of her coat pocket and snapped a picture. Taking a quick look at it, she was proud of the shot, and decided to have it printed so she could hang it on a wall in her apartment. The sound of a car interrupted the thought and she put the phone back into her pocket, and then opened the door to the back seat, grabbing her duffle bag and a messenger bag––the latter holding the books, notes, and pictures she’d brought.

A dark red Blazer parked next to her forest green Cruze LT as she shut the door. After a few moments, a dark-haired man stepped out, around six-foot-three and quite handsome.

When Murphy’s gaze met hers, Kate knew she was going to have a hard time not pushing him off the lighthouse. A really hard time.

“Kate,” he said, giving a nod.

She returned the nod. “Murphy.” After a moment of awkward silence she added, “I’m going to go unlock the main house.”


Oh, this is going to be fun, she thought. As she began to walk to the house, she heard him open his trunk. She assumed he was getting his things as well.

The main house was white, with dark blue trim and shutters. It didn’t have a basement but had a large attic—the first floor was living space. Kate heard the trunk close as she walked up the porch steps to the front door. She shifted her bags so they were a little more behind her as she unlocked and opened the door. Stepping in, she smiled softly, admiring the updates that had been made since she last toured the home and almost unable to believe that she was finally going to be able to investigate it.

The Historical Society had done a great job updating the house—a mix of rustic, coastal Maine and modern technology. The living room was to her right, the dining room to her left, and the kitchen was through the swinging door that was placed pretty much centrally in between the two rooms—along the walls that separated the two rooms from the kitchen.

Nick, Judith, and Lena had set up the main monitors on the dining room table—carefully, of course. When Nick had visited her the previous night he’d mentioned there was a small kitchen table in the actual kitchen.

“Wow,” Murphy said from behind her as he stepped into the house. “They really changed this place. It looks really good.”

She took a few steps to the left, giving him room to close the door and enter the house completely. “Yes, they did. The renovations were finished this past July.”

He looked around the two rooms. “They did a great job keeping the old and adding the new,” he waved a hand at the walls, “—and I love the historic pictures.”

Kate turned towards him, meeting his dark brown gaze. “The bedrooms are down that hall,” she pointed to the hall next at the end of the living room, “—and the attic entrance is the door right there at the start of the hall. Why don’t we set our bags in our rooms and meet in the kitchen. We can make coffee and get a plan together for the hunt.”

He lowered his head for a moment, looking uncomfortable, as he damn well should’ve felt in her presence. But she would be professional. At least for now.

“Kate,” he started, looking at her again, “I know how hard it must’ve been for you to say yes to this investigation, and I admit to being … uneasy, about us sharing the same space after what I did to you six years ago.”

Kate did her best not to narrow her eyes, trying to keep things civil between them, but anger stirred at the memories of those events six years in the past and it was hard keeping her feelings hidden—save a bit of irritation. “As you should, but I want to keep things civil. We’re going to have to if we’re going to last a week, or however long it takes, together in this house doing our investigating side-by-side.”

He stepped forward, extending his free hand. As he did so, she suddenly felt a bit short, even at five-foot-six. “Truce?”

She accepted his peace offering, shaking his hand. “Truce, though we both know the past is going to rub against the present.”

“I know,” he said as he drew back, “but I’m willing to try if you are.”

She really didn’t want to. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the bastard. “I truly am. This investigation? I’ve been waiting for it since I was a teenager. It’s a dream come true.”

He nodded, a distant look in his eyes as a smile formed. “I remember you talking about it. That’s what trigger…” he trailed off. “Never mind.”

Kate smiled. “Yeah, not a good idea to bring that up, O’Keefe. Let’s go get settled then meet up in the kitchen.”

He gave a nod. “Okay.”

Turning, Kate made her way to the hallway, taking the first room on the left. Murphy took the one right across the hall from her. The bathroom was the next room down from hers.

The room was nice, with a full-sized bed with a wooden headboard and foot board, a bureau with a mirror above it, and a rocking chair near the window that looked out to the lighthouse. She unpacked her duffle bag, putting the toiletry bag on top of the bureau, then looked out toward the lighthouse.

She was sensitive to the energy of the dead, but nothing like Arabella, Lena, Judith, and Rayna. At the moment, all she could feel was the history of the house: no ghostly energy. She wondered if Murphy was also disappointed that she’d agreed to the investigation because she wasn’t a medium or clairvoyant. She knew the history better than all, but the head of the Historical Society, and that was something he already knew, and she was Revenant’s lead researcher for all of their cases—she knew what she was doing, but was he hoping she’d say no for other reasons than their past?

Hearing the door to his room open made her back straighten and tense, and it took her a few minutes to relax. She’d met him while she was training with a team in Colorado during college, where she majored in history and anthropology with a minor in communications. When she graduated, she took a job with the Revenant team. Murphy asked for her help with research for one of his hunts about two months after that, concerning a long-closed silver mine, but asked for her not to mention what they were working on to anyone because other hunters and psychics would be all over the two of them—which was true, to an extent. Being a friend, she agreed.

Worst. Mistake. Ever.

After weeks helping him find what he’d been looking for—namely, information on two of the miners—he’d taken all of her research and all the artifacts she’d found while on site with him while she was asleep one night, and she never saw him in person again. She saw an article in a magazine while in a bookstore one day a few months later and read the interview, where she quickly learned that legend hunters like him were all about the glory and fortune, and they didn’t care who they walked over to get it. Not once in the interview did he mention that she’d been the one who’d helped him achieve that particular glory. She was so disgusted she quit her job with the team and moved back to Noble, where she now worked and lived happily.

But the taste of betrayal had yet to leave her where it concerned Murphy. Made worse by the fact that she’d started to have more than friendly feelings towards him right before he’d screwed her over.

A knock at her door startled her out of her thoughts. “Kate? Coffee’s brewing. Have you eaten?”

She cleared her throat, hoping to sound normal when she answered, “No.” Point for her, maintaining a completely normal tone. She opened the door. “Sorry. I got caught up looking at the lighthouse.” That was sort of the truth.

He shook his head. “Understandable, and I’m sure you were having memories of things we won’t talk about right now. I know I am.”

Shock had her raising her eyebrows. She hadn’t expected him to just blurt that out. “Yeah, that too.”

He smiled. “Breakfast—I’ll make pancakes if you’d like some.”

He’s trying, I think. “Sure. I am rather hungry.” Her stomach growled in response. She laughed softly as they started towards the kitchen.

“I’d say that growl was a little more than ‘rather’,” he said. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

Once in the kitchen, Kate walked straight for the coffee maker. A blue stone cup was waiting for her.

“Ladies first,” Murphy said as he got the ingredients for the pancakes together, as well as a bowl and a cast-iron pan.

Kate smiled as her hand grasped the coffee pot, but the smile faded when she remembered how sweet he was to her before the betrayal. She shook off the memory and decided to just enjoy the coffee and pancakes, for now. They’d take the past as slowly as possible … if they wanted to work together. “Thanks. Want me to make you a cup?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, but you don’t have to. I’ll get it when I’m done cooking.”

She filled a second cup. “Still with a dash of cream?”

He chuckled. “Yes, as always.”

After setting his cup beside the stove for him—at which he thanked her again—she picked hers back up. “I do remember your pancakes being the second best I’d eaten.”

“Second?” he questioned when she looked at him, a touch of indignation in his tone.

She sighed, leaning against the counter. “Sorry, but my uncle Trig’s are better than yours.”

He pointed a wooden spoon at her. “I won’t argue because I’ve never tasted them … and because he’s your family.”

She felt the corners of her mouth tilt upward. “The first thing I think we should do after we eat is look in on the monitors for the lighthouse. I want to see if there’s anything strange on screen before we check it out in person.”

“To get the feel of it?”

“Yeah.” She took a sip of coffee. “Basically, I want to do a walk-through of the lighthouse and then the attic. I don’t feel anything in the house right now, but I’d like to get those two things out of the way before we go over the footage from yesterday to this morning.”

He flipped a pancake then looked at her, his gaze warm. “Start slow? That sounds good to me.”

Butterflies fluttered in her belly in reaction to that warmth, and whether he meant it in regards to her or the case didn’t matter. Crap. Don’t fall for that gaze, Kate. “I’ll set the table,” she said, a little too softly for her liking.

“The plates are in the cabinet right above the coffee maker,” he told her, a hint of regret in his tone. “Silverware is right here beside me in this drawer.” He tapped the drawer to the left of the high-end gas stove.

As she set her coffee down and turned to get the plates, Kate cursed at herself. Idiot. Stop thinking about the warmth in his eyes.

“There’s syrup in the fridge—it’s Vermont-made.”

Kate smiled. “Nick knows what I like to eat. He, Judith, and Lena did the grocery shopping.”

“I’ll have to thank them when the case is over.” Again, regret lay in his tone, a bit more apparent than just moments before.

Their gazes met again briefly as she reached for the silverware, and the look on his face… The butterfly flutters quickened as his arm brushed hers, setting a pancake down on the plate next to the stove. She tried not to hurry as she grabbed the forks and two butter knives, and managed to do just that—act normal.

God, she hoped breakfast went by, and fast. “Why exactly did you agree to the terms of the council and Historical Society, Murphy?” she asked as he turned the stove off.

“I remembered you telling me about the lighthouse and the history of those who lived here in the Keeper’s house,” he said as he brought the pancakes over, “and I was intrigued by Mason Norling, the first keeper and the son of the man who designed and built the lighthouse.”

Intrigued. She should’ve kept her mouth shut.

He placed three pancakes on his plate. “I researched the family a little more, then found all the stories about the pirates. I started seeing connections between Mason and Elise Bennett, and became so hooked on finding the link between them I kept digging.”

“Exactly what do you think is in Mason’s journal?” Kate asked, pouring syrup over her food.

“I believe his personal journal holds the key about the battle between the Whiskey Beauty and the Ravaging Ghost. I found a picture of Elise that someone in town took during that last visit to Noble, when she actually docked in Emerald Bay—I’ll show you when we’re done doing the walk-throughs.” He paused, taking a sip of coffee. “The picture shows her wearing a necklace that’s supposedly an emerald, and a family heirloom.”

“Yes,” Kate said. “It’s written down in the interview with the local newspaper that the necklace was passed down from mother to daughter.”

“But, I found a picture of Mason’s youngest daughter, who was five at the time of the battle. I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain that’s the same necklace Elise was wearing.”

Kate froze, her fork halfway through her pancake stack.

“Kate? You okay?”

She forced herself to look at him. “I’ve seen all the pictures of the Norling family that the town has, which means you must’ve found the missing photos after the storm of 1722.” That wasn’t a question—it was an accusation. “Where?”

Murphy raised a hand, as if to quell her temper. “That daughter, Anya, moved to Massachusetts two years after her father died in the storm. I hunted down her descendants and found only one remaining—that would be a many-greats grandson of hers. He gave me three pictures and I made copies, which I have with me and are going to be given to the Historical Society once the investigation is over.”

The last made her threatening temper calm, and she finished cutting her pancakes. “I have that picture of Elise with me so I can compare them myself, but obviously it must’ve been enough to sway the council to let you investigate.”

The lighthouse and the Keeper’s house were owned by the Historical Society and they planned on using the house as an inn, so vacationers could stay overnight.

“It was one of the top two finds that swayed them, yes.”

“What was number one?”

“Elise returned to Maine in late October the year Anya was born, and looking at the older picture of Anya next to one of Elise…”

Understanding dawned on her. “You think Anya was Elise and Mason’s daughter.”

He pointed his fork at her. “Yep, and I think that before Elise died at sea she gave Anya the necklace and told Mason where he could find some of the treasure from the Whisky Beauty and the Ravaging Ghost.”

Kate hated to admit it, but the thought of all he just told her being true made excitement bubble inside of her. That must have reflected in her eyes because Murphy gave her a knowing smile.

“I also think she may have told him why she and Brenn Remington hated each other so much.”

Quelling her excitement, Kate replied, “The ghost in the lighthouse refuses to speak with anyone—he just walks up and down the stairs of the lighthouse and turns on the light on clear days. He’s even been seen looking out at the sea, for long hours. Getting him to communicate will be difficult.”

Especially since neither of them was psychic.

“Hopefully he does, but if all of what I’ve researched and outlined is true, it could mean finding the treasure as well as solving one of the most infamous chapters of Noble’s history,” Murphy said.

She didn’t like the way he said that. The words sounded as if he were trying to lure her into his games by using what she loved—history and Noble. But she kept that suspicion to herself, and would continue … for the moment.

“And if we, or you, find it necessary we can call in one of your team to help.”

“True, though I’ll warn you right now that what I just said is the truth—no one’s ever been able to get that ghost to talk, not even a ‘hmm’.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you, but at least we’ll have someone who may be able to persuade him to talk.”

“Lena’s an empath, so she could feel him out better than I can. Folger will do anything to help so I can call in whomever I feel we need.”

“You mean he’ll do what he can to help you work with me,” Murphy said, a knowing expression passing over her face.

Her gaze locked with his. “Both. He wants to help me with you, but he also knows how important this investigation is to me and Noble.”

Murphy gave a nod. “I understand what this case means to you, Kate,” he said, gaze softening. “I plan to uphold that truce we shook on.”

Really? Again with the warm gaze? Her stupid insides threatened to turn to mush. “So do I.” She really did. “And these are good pancakes.”

The smile he gave her nearly undid her. “Second best?”

She laughed. “Second best.”

God, was she in trouble.