Author: | S. H. Marpel | ISBN: | 9781386837961 |
Publisher: | Living Sensical Press | Publication: | June 10, 2018 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | S. H. Marpel |
ISBN: | 9781386837961 |
Publisher: | Living Sensical Press |
Publication: | June 10, 2018 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
A Countess who had a problem - she wasn't real. Not even in death.
Ghost Hunters trying to solve her mystery were plummited to their doom before they could solve her problem.
As was going to happen to John and his female spirit-guides Sal and Jude. But that ghost didn't count on the two gals having their own talents. All three escaped their doom this time, but worked out separately how to solve the ghost who stood on nothing real.
The personal relationships between these three Ghost Hunters take another twist as well, as John is reminded in the surprise ending...
Excerpt:
"I don't like this, not one bit," Jude said aloud once the shimmering stopped.
We were in a large room, typically murky. A dank, gray stone floor with matching walls that soared to heights above us to an impenetrable gloom overhead.
Jude was to one side, Sal on the other. I was the center target, as usual. (Sigh.)
"You two haven't already been here before?" I asked.
"No, this is one off Ben's list of specters we need to address. All we have a location and a star by the name. Ben's memory gets foggy about some of these, and you can't blame him after the second or third thousand on the list." Sal said.
"No idea what the star is for?" I asked.
"Dangerous." Jude replied.
"Oh, great." I said
At that a specter appeared, all in white with dark hair off her shoulders, two criss-crossed pearl-laden straps held it on her light-colored shoulders. Sweeping arms met in front where her two hands held a single short-stemmed red rose.
That was my cue. "Say, miss? Could you tell me where we are and what date it is?"
The misty, blank look came off her face at that point, and she focused on me.
"YOU! How dare you?!?" The specter was screaming at me. And then just started a long wail of screaming. She looked to the dark ceiling and raised her arms over her head, separating them so that only one held the rose now. The screaming raised in volume until we all covered our ears to try to lower its extreme intensity.
Then the floor caved in, and we all fell into another murky impenetrable gloom below...
A Countess who had a problem - she wasn't real. Not even in death.
Ghost Hunters trying to solve her mystery were plummited to their doom before they could solve her problem.
As was going to happen to John and his female spirit-guides Sal and Jude. But that ghost didn't count on the two gals having their own talents. All three escaped their doom this time, but worked out separately how to solve the ghost who stood on nothing real.
The personal relationships between these three Ghost Hunters take another twist as well, as John is reminded in the surprise ending...
Excerpt:
"I don't like this, not one bit," Jude said aloud once the shimmering stopped.
We were in a large room, typically murky. A dank, gray stone floor with matching walls that soared to heights above us to an impenetrable gloom overhead.
Jude was to one side, Sal on the other. I was the center target, as usual. (Sigh.)
"You two haven't already been here before?" I asked.
"No, this is one off Ben's list of specters we need to address. All we have a location and a star by the name. Ben's memory gets foggy about some of these, and you can't blame him after the second or third thousand on the list." Sal said.
"No idea what the star is for?" I asked.
"Dangerous." Jude replied.
"Oh, great." I said
At that a specter appeared, all in white with dark hair off her shoulders, two criss-crossed pearl-laden straps held it on her light-colored shoulders. Sweeping arms met in front where her two hands held a single short-stemmed red rose.
That was my cue. "Say, miss? Could you tell me where we are and what date it is?"
The misty, blank look came off her face at that point, and she focused on me.
"YOU! How dare you?!?" The specter was screaming at me. And then just started a long wail of screaming. She looked to the dark ceiling and raised her arms over her head, separating them so that only one held the rose now. The screaming raised in volume until we all covered our ears to try to lower its extreme intensity.
Then the floor caved in, and we all fell into another murky impenetrable gloom below...