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Ungrateful Dead: An Ethan Banning File
Ungrateful Dead: An Ethan Banning File
Ungrateful Dead: An Ethan Banning File
Ebook40 pages36 minutes

Ungrateful Dead: An Ethan Banning File

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Before Ethan Banning was a down-and-out demon-possessed PI, he was just a down-and-out PI.

Ethan wouldn't normally touch a haunting case. Mostly because he doesn't believe in ghosts. But when Charlie Mullen asks him to spend the night at a supposedly haunted morgue, Ethan figures, why not? He's broke and Charlie's offering double his normal rate, and that's good enough for Ethan.

But when a troublesome ghost really does show up, Ethan realises he's going to need more than a good supply of alcohol to get through the night.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherNaomi Clark
Release dateSep 24, 2014
ISBN9781311849106
Ungrateful Dead: An Ethan Banning File
Author

Naomi Clark

Naomi Clark is a nineteen-year-old writer, actress, blogger, singer, and vlogger. Naomi has been writing since she was eight years old, and this is her first published work. She lives in New York City with her mother, father, and her dog named Hope. In her spare time, she likes to crochet, walk her dog, bake, and cook for her family. She is also very active in her church and loves to work with kids. Her vlogging channel is coming to Youtube in Spring 2017. You can follow her on Instagram @glittergirl40 and on Facebook @NaomiClark.

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    Book preview

    Ungrateful Dead - Naomi Clark

    UNGRATEFUL DEAD

    A Short Story

    by Naomi Clark

    ~~~

    Copyright 2014 Naomi Clark

    Smashwords Edition

    ~~~

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Dedication

    This short story is for anyone who, like me, loves a down-on-his-luck private eye. Surely I’m not the only one?

    In case you ever wondered, the p in PI stands for private. Not phantom or paranormal or anything else to do with ghosts and that shit. I don’t normally have to explain that to people, but Charlie Mullen had been pawing at me for an hour now, insisting that private investigators really could investigate haunted morgues as easily as cheating wives, and it was starting to make my head ache.

    Charlie was one of those guys you just know got bullied at school. All weedy and twitchy, and probably even worse with women than me. I’d been pretty surprised to find him in Sylvester’s bar tonight at all. It’s the kind of place you only go if you’re broke or pathologically incapable of forming meaningful relationships. I was both, so I pretty much lived there, but as far as I knew, Charlie had plenty of money and worked with dead people, so probably wasn’t interested in meaningful relationships with the living.

    Sylvester’s is dirty, cheap, and nasty, like the clientele. The decor is depressing, the beer is watered down, and the peanuts are so salty you have to keep drinking the beer. The jukebox is always playing Johnny Cash and the light bulb in the mens’ washroom is always flickering. It’s got a certain sleazy charm though, personified by Jenny the barmaid and her orange cleavage. I was trying to admire said cleavage right now, but Charlie wouldn’t shut up and let me concentrate.

    Seriously, Ethan. Just as a favour to me. One night, that’s all. As a favour. He tugged at my coat sleeve to get my attention.

    I sighed and shrugged him off. Charlie, I spent the whole day rooting through a pro-golfer’s garbage looking for used condoms for his paranoid wife. I don’t need this shit, okay? I just want to drink my bad beer and go home and watch some bad TV. I’m not spending the night at the morgue with you. I don’t care how haunted it is.

    I’m not asking for anything big, he said indignantly. I just want some back-up, some proof so my boss will believe me. All you have to do is take a few pictures...

    No. I downed the rest of my beer and signalled to Jenny for a refill.

    Not interested.

    "I’ll pay whatever

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