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ISBN-10: 1-55404-312-3
Genre: Romance/Paranormal
eBook Length: 182 Pages
Published: December 2005

From inside the flap

There could be no unlikelier pair of amateur sleuths than Greta Roscoe and the Reverend Aaron Shane. Not because Greta is the most elegant courtesan of St. Louisís high society during the Gay 1890ís, and Aaron the cityís most self-righteous minister. Itís because they?re dead.

And because an angelic tutor named Aridite has given them the assignment of solving their own murders:

[the angel replied] ?The two of you are dead too soon. You can?t come forward, you?re not prepared ...I need to set you up with a goal to accomplish...?

If only things in the Afterlife were as simple as they seemed.

Reviews and Awards

From Lesely Mazey, writing for The Eternal Night Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror Web Site:

Greta Roscoe is trapped. Forced by her half brother, Marshall, to act as a courtesan she beds powerful men to enable Marshall to control their decision making. Aaron Shane is a newly ordained young minister full of Episcopal beliefs so when he is introduced to Greta at a dinner party her is shocked by her apparent promiscuity and finds himself unable to resist expressing his thoughts about her willingness to give her body to men.

Later, feeling ashamed of his bigotry he decides to return to Gretaís home and apologise. As he approaches her house he looks up at the window and witnesses her murder. Seconds later he too is murdered by an unseen assailant.

As the two of them look down at their own bodies they are approached by a glowing being, Aridite, who takes them to a strange apartment where he explains their situation. Although they are both dead they are held in a state of Limbo until they can determine the identity of their killers and move onwards.

Voyagers is a bizarre concept. Within a matter of pages of the beginning the two main characters are dead and spend the rest of the book acting as ghostly investigators searching for the reasons they were murdered. This idea allows the author to explore two distinct threads within the story. First there is the whodunnit aspect ? who murdered Greta and Aaron and why; then there is the story of the two "ghosts" as they struggle to come to terms with the nature of their existence.

This book is wonderful! Original and totally addictive. I particularly enjoyed the conflict experienced by Aaron as he becomes aware of his increasing attraction towards Greta (certainly not seemly for a man of the cloth ? even a dead one!).

K.L. Nappier is a talented author. This is the second of her books I have read and in neither case have I been even remotely disappointed. Her other book, Full Wolf Moon, was a completely different concept (having a werewolf theme) but showed a similar strength of writing and originality of thought.

Another wonderful story from a highly skilled author ? K.L. Nappier is one to watch out for.

From Christina Barber, writing for The Muse Book Reviews

Ms. Greta Roscoe and Reverend Aaron Shane are mere pawns, manipulated in a high stakes game of politics teaming with lies and deception.

Calloused by the unkind world in which she has suddenly been thrust, Greta Roscoe is forced to become courtesan, struggling to keep her younger sister from reaching the same fate. Neither Greta nor Reverend Shane would have ever imagined they would need to work together as a team, until they are murdered.

Angel Aridite guides the unlikely duo through their passage into the afterlife. However, dying before their time, Greta and Reverend Shane will need to prove themselves by achieving a goal set by the smooth talking Aridite. The two will need to solve their murders, enabling them to come forward in the spirit world, a task not easily achieved.

Unbeknownst to Greta and Aaron, friends and relatives are entangled in the brutal game and the two slowly begin to piece together the twisted puzzle.

K.L Nappier weaves a wonderful mystery full of beautifully crafted descriptions. The author adeptly transports you through time to Saint Louis in the 1890ís. K.L Nappier weaves a fantastic tale of greed, lust and compassion.
Voyagers was quite an enjoyable read, hooking the reader into turning page after page. Overall a great read!

VOYAGERS (Excerpt)

Chapter One

St. Louis, Missouri

Autumn, 1896

"I wouldn?t let him in last night. Then this morning, when I unlocked the door and came out, he was there to hit me."

Gently, Greta cupped her sisterís chin, tilting the girlís face toward the hurricane lantern so that she could see better. There was a dark bruise under the girlís eye, the lid was puffed and reddened. Greta forced the lump out of her throat.

"It must hurt fiercely, Tess."

Tess? eyes grew teary, and she whispered, "When can we leave?"

"I know itís hard, but try to be patient. We have an ally now. Tonight should put it all in place. I promise you."

"Then tell me what I can do. I can help, I know."

"Darling, if I do, you?ll be at worse risk than you are and I can?t let that happen."

"I?m so angry. I?m so afraid. It feels like itís been 20 years."

They clung to each other in Tess? barren room, the young woman dressed in finest satin and the 14-year-old in a plain, cotton frock. And Greta thought, yes, it seems like decades. Yesterday made it two years since Marshall had had his way.

Greta stroked her sisterís hair, so much like her own--dark red, sable soft--and a shudder came over her to think what Marshall had wanted of Tess last night. Dear God, should she tell her sister to let him have what he wants? Wouldn?t that be easier to bear than a battered face? No. No.

"Hold your ground, darling," she whispered. "This is almost over."

She found Marshall waiting in her chambers, something he did frequently. It seemed bizarre in its normalcy, this ersatz gentleman standing by the elaborate gas hearth, its iron logs pretending to burn. All around him were the trappings of the elite: thick, dark tapestries against gilded wallpaper; the finest horsehair divans. Four feet above their heads the ceilingís plaster molding recessed more deeply, because of the lamplight. Below Marshall the massive Persian carpet was so busy with magenta, indigo, and green it seemed to be in motion.

Greta looked at Marshall again, aware she was nauseous like she had been in the beginning. Everything in the room sickened her. The etched beveled crystal, everywhere crystal could possibly be, sparked and glinted, hurting her eyes. Even the water pitcher set beside the great mahogany bed, canopied with dark, embroidered silk. Oh, that silk. Its value alone could have fed Greta and Tess for months.

Marshall had been watching her. Her skirts had announced her arrival as they rustled across the threshold, but he had yet to say a word. She steeled herself to walk toward him, but Marshall held up a hand. The tangy taste of fear surged in her mouth. She?d given away something?in her expression, perhaps in her posture. But no. It was simply inspection time.

Tonight she wore emerald silk as luxurious as that adorning the bed. The gown was designed to barely escape scandal, provocatively snug at the bodice and hips, flaring below in a riot of ripples. Her opera gloves were cut from the same bolt of cloth; her diamonds were dazzling, but tasteful. Gretaís dark red hair was gathered away from her neck. An aigrette was set above her right ear; the jeweled comb at the featherís base glinted in the gaslight. She was the most elegant courtesan in St Louis.

Marshall smiled. "Oh, the judge is going to be delighted."

Greta ignored his comment. She?d regained herself and was set on a comment of her own. A risky thing to do, but she couldn?t keep silent.

"Bad taste, what you did to Tess this morning."

She moved into the room, pleased to see Marshall lose his smile, pleased to see him pat his fashionable, macassared hair, too close in color to her own. Marshall did that only when he was nervous. It was rare to see him so. He turned and lifted a cordial glass that had been sitting on the fireplace mantel.

"She was belligerent," he said.

"Was she? What did she say, Marshall? ?No??"

"I just wanted to talk to her."

Revulsion and anger knotted her stomach. "Sheís not part of the agreement, you perverted bastard. If I see another mark on her, Marshall, I swear to you?"

His laugh stopped her. "You can?t swear a thing."

"Thereís a stench around you worse than your father had."

He slammed his glass back onto the mantel and came across the room in four strides. Well, that was crossing the safe margin, she thought, and gasped when his nails dug into her arms. She refused to cry out.

"Watch your mouth, damn you. Watch your mouth."

"Careful. If I?m damaged goods, the judge may renege on your arrangement."

She could see the struggle in his eyes before his grip slackened. "He won?t see the damage on Tess, though. You owe me an apology."

Greta swallowed and, thinking of her sister, said woodenly, "I?m so sorry."

Smug and victorious, Marshall replied, "I don?t like your tone."

"You can?t do this to us forever."

Why did she bother to say things like that, what good did it do? Marshallís smile became more civil. He rubbed her arms where his grip had pained her, almost brotherly in nature, and it galled her. But she said nothing. He returned to his cordial.

"Don?t worry about Elias tonight," he said. "Someoneís keeping him busy with supper and brandy until the judge can steal away with you."

"Oh, I never worry about your side of things. I just do as I?m told."

Marshallís expression didn?t change, but he didn?t ignore her sarcasm. "You really don?t want to botch anything. This favor we?re doing?"


"Fine. This favor I?m doing the judge is valuable for all of us. He?ll be a powerful friend."

"How happy I am for you."

Marshall opened his arms in a gesture of reconciliation and moved casually toward Greta. She stiffened.

"Greta. Don?t be such a grouse. I?m very serious when I say this is good for all of us. Tandyís a bigger catch than his fellow Elias. This could mean more of everything for you, except any cash, of course. That rule still applies. Why insist on making the good things so hard to live with?"

Greta needed a moment to gather her self-control, and she looked about her chambers in silence. The excess and opulence assaulted her. It was hard to pretend, so hard to pretend. Marshall smiled and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"All right, then?" When she didn?t reply, he gave her a firm, warning shake. She managed a quick nod. "Good. Now. Give us a kiss."