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    Ghost Moon Rising (A Peter Brannigan Novella)
    Ghost Moon Rising (A Peter Brannigan Novella)
    Ghost Moon Rising (A Peter Brannigan Novella)
    Ebook108 pages2 hours

    Ghost Moon Rising (A Peter Brannigan Novella)

    By Claire Farrell

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    About this ebook

    When Peter Brannigan sold his house, he thought he was done with the bad memories of his past. But as Halloween rolls around, he’s faced with being sued over the fact the house is now haunted.

    Determined to deal with the problem before he’s forced to go bankrupt, Peter enlists the help of a reluctant medium and a Catholic priest. But as the violence and danger grow, it soon becomes clear that the problem could be bigger than a disgruntled spirit... and the solution the one person Peter can’t afford to risk.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherClaire Farrell
    Release dateOct 20, 2014
    ISBN9781310628658
    Ghost Moon Rising (A Peter Brannigan Novella)
    Author

    Claire Farrell

    Claire Farrell is an Irish author who spends her days separating warring toddlers. When all five children are in bed, she overdoses on caffeine in the hope she can stay awake long enough to write some more dark flash fiction, y/a paranormal romance and urban fantasy.

    Read more from Claire Farrell

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      Book preview

      Ghost Moon Rising (A Peter Brannigan Novella) - Claire Farrell

      1

      The obnoxious ringing of his phone woke him from a deep dream. Groaning, he reached out, still half-asleep, and knocked the bedside lamp over in his attempt to grab the phone. He answered, yawned, held the phone to his ear, and promptly dozed off again.

      "…haunted… legal proceedings… Mr. Brannigan. Mr. Brannigan!"

      Peter’s eyes flew open. Huh?

      Did you hear what I said? a sharp voice demanded.

      Peter blinked at a shard of moonlight on the ceiling. What time was it?

      Mr Brannigan?

      Wait, what had he said? The voice was familiar, but—

      Peter sat up, his back ramrod straight as his mind cleared enough to figure out the words. "I’m being sued for what?"

      Here. Carl poured out a steaming hot coffee and pushed it toward Peter. You look like a zombie this morning.

      Peter looked up at his friend gratefully. Carl hadn’t batted an eyelid when he showed up at his doorstep before eight am, but he was exactly the person Peter needed to throw ideas at.

      He wrapped his hands around the oversized cup with the words Fang Hag emblazoned across the surface. Is this to get you back for the vampire frog thing?

      Carl made a sound of amusement. So she says. She loves it really.

      Peter inhaled the scent of coffee. You don’t know much I need this right now.

      The bloodshot eyes give me some idea. Carl took a seat across from him with his own drink. So let me get this straight. They just called you there and then. In the middle of the night. Couldn’t even wait until morning?

      Yup. Peter took a long sip, ignoring his burned tongue. Last straw, apparently. They didn’t even shut the door behind them. Of course, they weren’t too panicked to threaten litigation.

      Think they could be chancing their arm? Or that someone put the idea into their heads?

      The people Peter had sold his old house to had been delighted at first. The McCarthy family hadn’t cared about the murders that turned off most interested parties. They just wanted a nice home in a half-decent area for their growing brood. Dropping the price way below value hadn’t hurt either.

      They didn’t come across as the type to turn to ambulance chasers if that’s what you mean. She has a great job, and he’s taking extended leave to care for the kids. They don’t seem like the kind of people to pack up on a whim, especially not on the word of somebody else.

      Still. With your reputation as the world’s most charming man, you have to wonder.

      Peter shifted uncomfortably. You think this could be about revenge?

      I’m not saying it’s likely. Just that it’s possible. Even you have to admit you’ve pissed off a good chunk of the population over the years. Still, this does seem a bit too petty for a supernatural enemy. A frown deepened the lines on Carl’s forehead. What are you going to do?

      No idea.

      Is this even legal?

      Ava gave me the number of her solicitor. I spoke to him an hour ago. Martin Breslin is naturally dubious, but in the light of everything that’s happened in Ireland, he thinks this might set precedent. He shook his head with a wry smile. A year or two ago, this would have been laughed out of court, but now that everyone knows the supernatural world exists…

      People can claim the houses they regret buying are haunted. That’s going to be a nightmare. The bubble burst. Half the country has mortgage-regret. Carl narrowed his eyes. "Is your old house haunted?"

      Peter stared at his coffee. He had spent years self-medicating with alcohol to shut up the voices. Had they ever been his conscience? Or were they simply ghosts, after all? He pushed that thought away. I said I would go look at the place today. See if I can figure out what the hell is going on. You sure Emmett can hang out here?

      Of course. You can’t exactly bring him back to that house if it’s haunted.

      It was fine before, Peter protested. Okay, maybe not fine, but certainly not unliveable. Not for anyone but him. He was the only one left alive with memories that chased him away.

      Carl drummed his fingers on the table. Let’s go with the worst case scenario. What if it really is haunted now?

      Then that’s going to be really bloody awkward to explain to the kid who can see ghosts, Peter muttered.

      They could be hysterical. Carl leaned back in his seat. Remember that woman last month who was convinced a pooka was stalking her, and Phoenix had to go on the news and reassure people that pookas didn’t actually exist? It could be exactly like that.

      Yeah, but she really was being stalked. Just by a human. And we already know ghosts are real. My son can see them. Peter sighed. Whatever’s going on, I’ll figure it out. This is going to cost me a fortune. I just know it.

      What about the money from the house?

      That’s Emmett’s. It’s his family, his house, his money. He’ll get it when he’s old enough. Peter felt sick, remembering the threats from the new buyers. If it all went to hell, he might have to pay legal fees on top of returning the money. And then he’d be stuck with that house all over again.

      You don’t think it could be, Carl lowered his voice, Yvonne?

      If it is, I’ll kill her, Peter said unthinkingly. He shook his head. You know what I mean. He had allowed his son’s aunt to go on a suicide mission, and when the world went to hell, her soul had been trapped by a madman. She had visited his son in death and almost scared the life out of the child. If she was holding on and terrifying people, he was going to find an exorcist, or whoever the hell got rid of ghosts. He picked up his keys. No point putting this off any longer. I’ll head on.

      He headed into the living room to say goodbye to his son. I have to go out for a while.

      Emmett brightened. Are you getting my Halloween costume?

      Peter winced. He hated Halloween. No, not today. I won’t forget though. Don’t worry.

      You better not. Dita is bringing me trick or treating. It’s my first time going, so you can’t forget.

      I’ll get it for you. I just said, didn’t I?

      Did you get work? Emmett asked. Is that why I’m here?

      Sort of, Peter said. I’ll be back later.

      Why can’t I stay with Ava?

      She’s busy. You like Carl.

      He never lets me touch his comics.

      Peter squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds before plastering a smile on his face. Just… do what he says, and be good.

      Emmett’s face fell. He’s not going to teach me stuff, is he?

      Depends on how much you annoy him. Peter hid his grin. We’ll see, okay? Talk to you later, kid.

      He ruffled the boy’s hair and headed out to the car. She started on the first try, and he patted the steering wheel with pride. Good girl, he whispered. Nice and easy.

      He pulled out of the cul-de-sac and drove to his old house, the place he had lived when he first became a father. The place he had

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