A realtor in modern day Charleston, SC, Melanie Middleton specializes in historic homes — and lives in an uber-modern condo because she detests old houses. When a potential client dies (a man she only met once), she inherits an exquisite, if slightly rundown, Grande Dame of a mansion — with the stipulation that she live in it for a year before selling. Problem is, the house isn't just filled with spiderwebs. It's filled with ghosts. And some of them aren't very nice. This fabulous ghost story is The House on Tradd Street, the latest offering by Karen White, and it can sit with the best of romantic, suspense and/or paranormal fiction. I finished it in two days, staying up late the second night because I could not bear to sleep without knowing how it ended. It's deeply textured too. Melanie is appalled to learn her not-recovering alcoholic father is the trustee of the substantial fortune earmarked for restoration. There's a love triangle, nearly a century old, and a missing woman. Jack, a sexy crime writer who specializes in solving mysteries, always seems to be underfoot. A charming Southern gentleman wants to buy the house, but he's distracted by Melanie's womanly charms (Jack hates him, of course, and what woman wouldn't love that?). And ciphers, old roses, and a missing Confederate treasure. Melanie even inherits a lap dog -- and she's soooo not a dog person! Melanie herself is delightful, and White gives her some amusing dialogue. My personal favorite is that people keep asking, "Do you like old houses, Miss Middleton?" Melanie hems and haws, and stammers out something like "Well, they're ... old." Tradd Street is a perfect book for indulgent reading. It's smart, funny, fast-paced. The kind of book you whiz through, wishing you could slow down to make it last, but you can't. The books I love most are those that create a sense of place. They take a specific, unique location and make it so real I forget I've never been there. White is a master at place. I first became aware of Karen White when I picked The Memory of Wateroff the shelf at my local, independent bookstore. Memory of Water takes place in the South Carolina Low Country, an alien world to the desert Southwest where I was raised. In fact, I learned a new word: "pluff," as in "pluff mud," that squicky, dark, smelly stuff in the marsh, exposed at low tide. I also learned a new place, and I came to love it as much as Marnie does. Though Tradd Street is a lighter book, less literary, White works the same magic here, and the historic city of Charleston became mine as I read it. So much was unfamiliar to me, not the least of which was the house itself. You see, the house is sideways, to my view. The front door faces onto a garden, not the street, and the street door opens onto a veranda, not the house. For me, raised among ranch houses of the Phoenix suburbs, this house shows the street a dull face: a long wall of evenly spaced windows. In my mind, you put the most impressive side of the house out, where people can see it (isn't that the point? To impress people?). But for the Tradd Street house, the aesthetics are turned inward. They face the garden and create a magic space into which one can only come by invitation. When I learned the house really exists, I was captivated. Oh, it doesn't really exist, not with the ghosts, the hunky crime writer, and the cobwebby chandelier. Maybe not even the Tiffany door. But the sideways house definitely stands, in fully restored condition, on Tradd Street in Charleston. I spent a fair bit of time comparing the cover photo (above) with the real house that sparked White's imagination (at left). Of course, now I want to go inside! I want to see what it looks like after the restoration that Melanie only begins in Tradd Street. Fortunately, White has a sequel coming out next year. You and I both will have the chance to revisit the stunning House on Tradd Street. In the meantime, The Lost Hours is due for release in May. That'll hold us over while we wait. That and a very attractive backlist. Edited for accuracy.