A woman is haunted–both literally and figuratively–by ghosts of the past in this second novel of the Royal Street series by New York Times bestselling author Karen White.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Karen White’s The House on Prytania, which is out now!
Nola Trenholm may not be psychic herself, but she’s spent enough time around people who are to know when ghosts are present, and there are definitely a few lingering spirits in her recently purchased Creole cottage in New Orleans. Something, or someone, is keeping them tethered to this world. And not all of them are benign.
But with the sudden return of Sunny Ryan, Beau Ryan’s long-lost sister, Nola has plenty to distract her from her ghostly housemates. Especially when the tempting–yet firmly unavailable–Beau, wanting to mete out justice to those he blames for Sunny’s kidnapping, asks Nola for a favor that threatens to derail her hard-won recovery and send her hurtling backward. He asks her to welcome Michael Hebert back into her life, even though Michael is the reason for Nola’s bruised heart. Beau is convinced that Michael’s powerful family was behind Sunny’s disappearance and that Michael is the key to getting information the police won’t be able to ignore–if Nola is willing to risk everything for which she’s worked so hard.
Torn between helping Beau and protecting herself, Nola doesn’t realize until it’s almost too late why the ghosts are haunting her house–a startling revelation that will throw her and Beau together to fight a common enemy. Assuming Nola can get Beau to listen to what the spirits are trying to tell him, because ignoring them could prove to be a fatal mistake…
I stood under an awning near the corner of Canal and Royal in a misty drizzle, watching my young friend Trevor riding my bike toward me. For a small fee, the twelve‑year‑old entrepreneur guarded my bike each night so I didn’t have to ride it all the way uptown after a long day. In the mornings I worked at my office on Poydras as an architectural historian for a civil engineering firm, then in the afternoon shifted to the renovations at my new house, leaving just enough energy to bike to the streetcar stop and hand over my bicycle to Trevor.
He had sold me the bike, the basket, and several other essential items—including a Super Soaker to deter the more aggressive flying cockroaches—for what were clearly inflated prices for used items. Trevor insisted I was paying a convenience fee for having him source the products and hand deliver them, and I couldn’t say that he was wrong.
“Hi, Miss Nola. Sorry I’m late. Meemaw forgot to make my lunch last night, so I tried to make it myself. ’Cept we didn’t have no bread, and it made me late for school. I didn’t have time to get your bike out of my hiding place before school, so I had to get it after.”
“So you didn’t have anything for lunch?”
“No, ma’am. But my best friend, Gary, always has somethin’ for me. His mama likes me and says I’m too skinny, so she packs extra.”
After digging into my back pocket and pulling out a five, I handed it to him. “Use this to buy a hot lunch the next time that happens, all right? For emergency purposes, and only for food, and get an extra dessert for Gary. Do not use it to buy anything you plan to resell, all right?” “Yes, ma’am,” he said, eagerly taking the bill and shoving it into his pocket. As with every interaction with Trevor, I chose to trust him. His charm and smile always overcame any second thoughts. “I’ve got something for you from Miss Jolene.” I slid off my backpack before pulling out an oddly shaped yet beautifully wrapped gift complete with an extravagant bow.
He reached for it, but I held it back before carefully placing it on the ground. “All you have to do is peel off that small strip of tape at the top and it will unwrap itself.”
With cheeks puffed out with anticipation, Trevor carefully removed the tape. The paper fell away like a flower blooming, leaving a decoupaged clay pot at the center. I was pretty sure Jolene had both spun the pot and decorated it herself, but I hadn’t asked because I didn’t want to hate her. Trevor lifted the pot and studied it, not quite sure what to say.
“It’s for your home computer fund,” I explained. “I figured all the money you earn from working at the antiques store and from your side business can be put in here. Christopher said he’d be happy to keep it locked up at the shop to keep it safe.”
Trevor nodded to show that he’d heard me, but his eyes were fixated on the pot. “Why’s it got a rainbow?”
“Because at the end of every rainbow is a pot of gold. Jolene loves rainbows because of the song “Over the Rainbow” in her favorite movie, The Wizard of Oz.”
He squinted at me with his dark brown eyes, not understanding.
“You know—Dorothy and the Tin Man, Scarecrow and Lion?” “Huh?”
I blinked a couple of times, wondering if he might be kidding, because, to my knowledge, I’d never met anyone who wasn’t familiar with the movie or the books. I squatted down to get a better look in his face. He was small for his age, and I got down to his level only when it was for something important.
“Trevor, do you mean to say you’ve never seen The Wizard of Oz or read the books?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“No flying monkeys or the Wicked Witch of the West?”
He narrowed his eyes again, but this time to clearly show that he doubted my sanity.
I stood. “Well, we’re going to fix that right up. Now that you have a library card, you can check out The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by Frank Baum. Just ask the librarian.”
“Can’t I just watch the movie?”
“Sure. But only after you read the first book—there are fourteen in the series. Everybody knows the book is always better than the movie. Besides, reading makes you smarter.”
“Huh,” he grunted, clearly not convinced.
“Guess what Jolene’s favorite book in the whole world is.”
His eyes brightened, and I knew I had him. Ever since he’d met Jolene and had become the recipient of her baked goodies, he’d been a devoted admirer. He wasn’t alone in that regard, since she seemed to have that effect on everyone. Everyone except Jaxson Landry.
“The Avengers!”
At my look, he burst out in his contagious laugh. “I’m just punkin’ you, Miss Nola.”
“Yeah, well, Jolene would be very impressed if you read the first book in the series. I bet—with your meemaw’s permission—we could have you over to our apartment to watch the movie after you read the book. Jolene makes the best popcorn.”
A frown appeared and he focused his gaze on the pavement at his feet. “Don’t know about that.”
“I hope you’re not thinking that the book will be too hard. Christopher or I would be happy to help if you get stuck.”
He looked up with an expression I couldn’t read, but it quickly faded before I could overthink it. He tucked the pot under his arm while I folded up the paper and placed it carefully inside. “I gotta go—Christopher’s waiting for me. I’m supposed to be at the shop now to sweep the back room.”
“Don’t let me keep you. He says he doesn’t know how he did it all without you.”
His small chest expanded like that of a robin preparing to sing. “My meemaw taught me how to clean right. Between you and me, Miss Nola, some of them corners at the shop hadn’t seen a broom or rag since Jesus was a baby.”
I hid my smile. “Well, then, you’d better hurry.” He didn’t budge. “You owe me a dollar.”
“A dollar? What for?”
“’Cause I brought you your bike in the rain. It’s an extra fee.” “I don’t remember ever paying that before.”
“It’s a new policy.” He grinned so big that I could see the pink of his gums. “You told me to look for ways to earn money so I can buy myself my own computer.”
I fished a dollar bill out of my pocket and handed it to him. “I’ve created a monster.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. His grin never dimmed as he said good‑bye and began jogging toward the Past Is Never Past, carefully cradling the pot against his chest.
Excerpted from THE HOUSE ON PRYTANIA STREET by Karen White, published by Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC. Copyright © 2023
