Read Jekyll Island: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 5) for Free Online Page B

tables, comfortable chairs, and perhaps a swing. With its Flemish gables, patterned stone work, and fluted chimneys it was a true work of art. Its view of the river and the fact it faced west meant it would’ve been the perfect place to relax and watch the sunset.
    Taryn was mindful of snakes as she knelt down by the porch to take a picture of what was left of the railings and spindles. She was watchful of spiders as she cupped her hands to her face and peered into the dusty windows.
    In spite of its condition, the cottage almost preened under her scrutiny, standing proud and tall even with its current disability. Taryn imagined a grand dame in the midst of a scandal, putting on a brave face to those around her despite the turmoil she faced.
    One of the upstairs windows still had a sliver of glass in it. It poked up from the window frame like a broken tooth in an otherwise empty mouth. The gummy smile was almost jaunty and Taryn laughed before snapping a picture.
    “Look!” someone cried gaily, their voice full of enthusiasm. “Look!”
    Taryn turned and saw a tourist group walking nearby, following a man holding up a big red umbrella. She wondered what was so exciting that someone felt the need to point it out to the others, but they all appeared to be quietly listening to the man leading the way.
    She would’ve stuck around longer but the sun was sinking quickly now and she still needed to get to the other cottage. Tossing Adena a goodbye wave, Taryn hopped in her golf cart and made her way to the next one.

I vy House, with its ghosts and legends, had onlookers when she arrived. As Taryn neared the group of men, women, and children she realized they weren’t merely tourists out for a stroll but a tour group. Before them, a woman in a long white dress paced back and forth, waving her hands erratically and gesturing to the cottage behind her.
    “She doesn’t like anyone touching her and has been known to shriek and yell when workers get too close to changing something she likes,” Taryn could hear the woman narrate as she drew closer. The tour group looked on with big eyes, some straining their necks looking over the house, perhaps trying to catch a glimpse of one of its deadly residents. On the road behind them a man sitting behind the wheel of a red trolley with the words “Ghost Tours-Jekyll Island” scrawled across the side sat back in his seat with his feet up on the dashboard. He flipped through a newspaper.
    So as not to disturb the group, Taryn started at the back of the house.
    She couldn’t deny that there was something eerie about the place. While Adena set proud and regal, Ivy felt confrontational and hostile. Each time Taryn snapped a shot she imagined the house bristling, irritated at the attention. This house was no life of the party. It wouldn’t have made friends easily and, instead, would’ve sat critically in the corner, condemning the other guests for not living up to their expectations.
    Taryn laughed at the thought and could’ve sworn she saw a window shade snap in disapproval.
    By the time she made it to the front the tour group was gone, their trolley zipping on down the road. The guide was on a loudspeaker now and Taryn listened to the electronic hum until they went around a corner and were out of sight.
    She was still nervous when it came to talking about her abilities (talent? gift? curse?). The first time she’d uploaded her photos and seen the furniture magically appear where it had not previously been she’d been scared out of her mind and questioned her sanity. She assumed others would as well.
    She was wrong.
    Instead, after a year of internet research, talking with others who knew much more about these things than she did, and consuming books about the topic as quickly as she could Taryn had learned one thing: the paranormal was hot.
    Everyone seemed to either want to hear ghost stories, tell ghost stories, or experience their own ghost story. There were apparently even