The adventures of the Ghost Hunters continue - with more exotic locations and hair-raising paranormal exploits than ever before.
This latest anthology of short story fiction by S. H. Marpel and various co-authors brings you new ideas to digest - all in the short periods of time you have available.
Explore such ideas as:
- When a digital ghost is deciding to become human, she seeks out a spirit-guide who knows more about sex than any human alive, because...
- A shunned young woman sets out to find out about the real world and encounters its dangers as well as true friends who keep coming to her rescue (although she saves herself before they arrive...)
- Where a shoemaker meets two spirit-guides and regains years of his life by teaching them his craft.
- An old lover returns to haunt the man who she felt had condemned her to a wretched life as a castaway - and exact her revenge...
Excerpt:
It looked to be just another "red-neck" bar. And I was drinking tea. Not that anyone minded. This place had more customers coming for their barbecued tenderloin sandwiches than their draft beer or hard liquor.
But the music, the atmosphere - that was pure Midwestern, traditional. Classic Western ballads in the jukebox. Broad shoulders on men, tight jeans on women. And smiles for everyone, but your hands are for your drink and your food. Lot's of self-respect around, which comes from respecting others first.
American values, passed on and validated with each new generation. And places like this dotted most of America and were more common than any corporate-run diners or coffee-houses. Because they were an outgrowth of the community, they weren't there to "make a lot of money", although they did that, too.
This wasn't one of my usual haunts as a mystery writer. But this also wasn't one of my usual mysteries to solve.
I was relaxing at a table near the front. Waiting to meet someone - a certain someone who could help me with my problem. That situation was more than just an unresolved mystery. And if you know me, leaving some mystery unresolved in my life gets irritating. Like a single grain of sand inside a mussel's shell.
The front door opened and I recognized that young woman standing tall in its frame. She took a single stride in and stood there. With her heeled boots, she looked a long glass poured full of pure femininity. Her Timberline boots slipped into the tight pant-legs of her black leather jeans, which went on up to described every curve and dimple of her smooth legs beneath, from her knees right up to her hips, and to the very limit of those jeans' low-cut waist.
There, a thin band of ivory-white midriff took over before being itself covered by a snug, black and very defining knit v-top. An open black leather bolero jacket swept up from that midriff area to slide itself beneath a thick mane of wavy back hair. A cascade down her shoulders from its provocative part on one side of its crest.
Underneath those long tresses were dark brows, dark eyes, and dark lips that completed a goth approach to stunning beauty.
As she came up to my table, I could smell wild rose and lilac from her hair, on top of the leather scent.
It was going to be one interesting afternoon...
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