A Paranormal Women's Fiction with a bit of class, and a lot of sass, for anyone who feels like age is just a number! Whoever said life begins at forty must have been heavily medicated, drunk, or delusional. Thirty-nine was a fantastic year. I was married to the man I loved. I had a body that worked without creaking. My grandma, who raised me, was still healthy, and life was pretty damned good. But as they say, all good things come to an end. I’d honestly love to know who ’they’ are and rip them a new one. One year later, I’m a widow. My joints are starting to ache. Gram is in the nursing home, and dead people think my home is some kind of supernatural bed and breakfast. Gluing body parts onto semi-transparent people has become a side job—deceased people I’m not even sure are actually there. I think they need my help, but since I don’t speak dead, we’re having a few issues. To add to the heap of trouble, there’s a new dangerously smokin’ hot lawyer at the firm who won't sto