Excerpt:

Elissa stared at the decaying cottage and grudgingly admitted she needed a man. She prized her independence but now she needed a man to buy the place, fix it up, move in, fall for her, briefly - while she remained aloof - and, finally, help her die.

In the beginning, Mason Forsythe didn't know how much the buying of his dream home would change his life. How it would challenge his deepest beliefs in what was, or, rather, what wasn't. He knew already that love could become hatred. What he didn't know, yet, was that it could also lead to fear. Had he known all that, he might never have bought the place. But, of course, he hadn't...

As late-arriving darkness of June began to fall, Elissa stood behind a tree at the edge of the old Carleigh property. She had stood there, in fact, all afternoon in the intermittent light rain, watching the men moving boxes and furniture into the refurbished cottage and trying to decide which one was the new occupant, for she was certain that fate had chosen him for her. Finally, she decided the chosen one was the tall, dark-haired man of about thirty who seemed to be giving most of the directions. He would certainly do, she thought. But she would have to be careful; one false move could ruin it all. He was really quite good-looking and he seemed forceful and decisive, qualities she admired. But she mustn't let herself admire them too much. She was naturally outgoing and confident, but her present situation had made her a bit hesitant to approach him when anyone else was there.

Finally, she swallowed hard and moved cautiously among the trees around toward the back door of the cottage where her arrival would be less likely to be seen. She was about to step onto the path when she saw the elderly couple standing on the back stoop.

With a sigh, she melted back into the darkness...

...Suddenly, Elissa wasn't grinning. Her face was pale and deadly serious.

"What can you possibly have to tell me that's as serious as all that?" Mason asked.

"Why don't you make some coffee? This may take some time,"she said, obviously stalling.

"Funny. I had someone else suggest that to me, just recently. And it wasn't good news."

"This isn't either, I'm afraid."

"Then let's get it over with," Mason said, sitting down in the chair. "Would you...like to sit on my lap while you tell me?"

"Thanks. It might make things easier to tell. Though it might also make things...harder...for you..."

"You take your chances..."

"I will." She sat on his lap and snuggled her head under his chin. "You were right. It does make me feel easier."

"So, begin at the beginning."

"No, I think it makes more sense for me to begin at the end," Elissa whispered.

"Which is?"

"I hope you won't think I'm crazy, but I'm dead," she said.

Author BIO: Favorite Quote: "Man is the only creature who laughs... or needs to." (Anon. maybe himself)

Before he was able to begin fulfilling his lifetime ambition of writing on a full time basis, Terry Sheils devoted himself to thirty-five years of teaching drama and English at the high school level. He also found himself

• coordinating the Dramatic Arts, and Theater Arts programs across the city of North York for 6 years
• running workshops in drama and education for the Canadian Daily Newspaper Publishers' Association across Canada
• writing and performing in early educational television
• writing plays for student production

and becoming virtually the curriculum writer-in-residence for the North York Board of Education.

Then he began to take life seriously and, since his retirement in 1992, has doggedly written thirty-six manuscripts. "Ghost Writer" is Sheils' first novel published by Awe-Struck. As this novel attests, a sense of humor is central to his outlook on life.

Terry was born in Toronto, Canada in 1935 and still resides there with his wife of 43 years. They have two mostly grown daughters. Finally, his outstanding physical attribute, he says, is his left ear, which is much admired in concentric circles.