By Paula Morris
A gripping supernatural secret and romance set in post-Katrina New Orleans.Rebecca could not consider extra misplaced in New Orleans. She's staying in a creepy residence along with her aunt, who reads tarot playing cards. And on the snooty prep tuition, a pack of filthy-rich women deal with Rebecca like she's invisible. merely wonderful, unavailable Anton gray offers Rebecca the time of day, yet she wonders if he is acquired a hidden agenda.Then one evening, one of the oak bushes in Lafayette Cemetery, Rebecca makes a pal. candy, mysterious Lisette is raring to teach Rebecca the nooks and crannies of latest Orleans. there is only one catch.Lisette is a ghost.
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Extra info for Ruined
The city was surrounded by water on all sides -- by swamps and bayous; by the brackish Lake Pontchartrain, where pelicans swooped and a narrow causeway, the longest bridge in the world, connected the city with its distant North Shore; and, of course, by the curving Mississippi River, held back by grass-covered levees. Like many New Yorkers, Rebecca knew very little about New Orleans. She'd barely even heard of the place until Hurricane Katrina hit, when it was on the news every night -- and it wasn't the kind of news that made anyone want to move there.
Rebecca didn't want to be rude, but this all sounded like so much hocus-pocus. Just because she liked ghost stories and vampire movies didn't mean she was about to carry some voodoo pouch with her everywhere. "Maybe," Aurelia sighed. She scrunched up her pert nose and giggled. "Maybe not. I like the Buddhist stuff better. The statues are cooler. " "That's OK," Rebecca told her, startled when Aurelia scrambled to her feet and darted out the door. But within moments she was back: Her arms were full of Marilyn the cat, back safely from her cemetery adventure.
Rebecca tried to look interested, but talk of masked old men and debutante balls made her feel even more out of 29 place here. She didn't even know things like this still went on in America, and she couldn't really visualize them. All she could think of was Zorro and maybe the Ku Klux Klan dropping into a Jane Austen movie. "The newer krewes sell tickets to their balls," Amy whispered, her eyes wide, as though she was communicating a shocking secret. "We'll explain everything to you," tittered Jessica.