When recently widowed Sylvie Andrus moves with her young son, Jason, to a small river town in Maryland, she finds the ghost of her husband, Ned, and a local story of a Revolutionary Era beauty who disappeared without a trace in 1794. Sylvie discovers she must solve this two-century old mystery before she can move on with her life. Obsessed by the task she’s set herself Sylvie ignores everything else, including Jason. Distressed by his mother’s absence, nine-year-old Jason is sure the ghost isn’t his father. He warns Sylvie the ghost is evil but, swept up by her yearning for her husband and determined to reveal what happened to Clarinda, she delays telling the ghost to leave until she realizes he won’t be content until he possesses her entirely.
Ginny Fite weaves a fascinating tale of an undiscovered murder, a grieving widow, a mysterious ghost and the history that connects them. A love story and a ghost story, Possession celebrates the courage of women to overcome tragedy and grief.
—K.P. Robbins, The Stonehenge Scrolls
Ginny Fite strikes again, taking us on a wild ride in Possession—an unusual blend of mystery, feminism, and horror told in dual storylines. I consumed this book in a few sittings, desperate for resolution.
—Leslie M. Rollins, author of Good-Time Girl and The Man Dance
As we’ve come to expect of keen-eyed author Ginny Fite, Possession is masterful. In a cyclone of peril and malevolence this novel spirals us back to chilling events of the 18th century, then lets the consequences fall on a 21st century mother and son. For a story with compelling characters that is both haunting and heartwarming, Possession delivers the goods.
—Lee W. Doty, author of murder mystery Tidal Kin
I enjoyed all of Ginny Fite’s Possession, but it was especially in the second half, as the two vectors of the story—Clarinda’s life, and Sylvie’s—drew closer and closer, that I couldn’t put it down. It was a delightful read with a hauntingly real small town and complex characters with secrets of their own.
–Lauren Woods, Author of short stories in The Antioch Review, Hobart, The Offing, Fiction Southeast, Roanoke Review, and elsewhere
Read a Sample…
Chapter 1: Fourteen April 1794 — Rivertown
He gripped the hair at the back of her neck and yanked her out of the buggy. Clarinda tumbled to the ground.
“Stop. James, stop. What are you doing?” She scrambled to her feet.
The moon hung low on the horizon, hovering over the silver water. Gray cumulus clouds glided toward the moon. In a minute, it would be pitch dark.
Silent, he grabbed her arm and dragged her onto the stone wharf. She stumbled and fell onto the sharp rocks. The edge of a stone sliced her cheek. Clarinda pushed herself to her feet and swiped at her face. Blood streaked her hand.
“You’ve gone mad.”
James slapped her. “You are the mad one.”
She staggered backward. He lunged and slapped her again. “You have defiled our marriage, endangered my career. You are an embarrassment to my family. You don’t deserve to live.”
Clarinda backed away from him. “You’re not God. You don’t get to decide who lives or dies.”
“Watch me,” he snarled as his fist snapped her head around.
Uneven rocks beneath her feet tripped her. She reached out to grab his coat for balance, but he yanked himself away. Her arms flailed. Wind from the incoming storm whipped the shawl from her shoulders. It flew out across the water.
She fell backward, first into nothingness for what seemed forever, and then into the shocking cold of the river, black water rising around her and closing over her face.