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    Ghoul @ Glenwood: Newfoundland Creature Connections, #1
    Ghoul @ Glenwood: Newfoundland Creature Connections, #1
    Ghoul @ Glenwood: Newfoundland Creature Connections, #1
    Ebook63 pages50 minutes

    Ghoul @ Glenwood: Newfoundland Creature Connections, #1

    By C. E. Moretti

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    About this ebook

    Jacks and Mollie are spending their summer vacation exploring central Newfoundland. But something horrifying peers in their window on their first night in Appleton, initiating a spooky adventure filled with graveyards, ghosts, and...zombie sightings?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSlither Inn Press
    Release dateAug 18, 2017
    ISBN9781386357360
    Ghoul @ Glenwood: Newfoundland Creature Connections, #1
    Author

    C. E. Moretti

    C. E. Moretti lives in central Newfoundland withe her husband, children, dogs, and an assortment of slugs and mice. She enjoys reading, writing, gardening, and werewolf care.

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      Book preview

      Ghoul @ Glenwood - C. E. Moretti

      Chapter 1: The Most Boring Summer Ever?

      The most boring summer vacation ever took an abrupt turn when I saw the first monster.

      I'd gone to the bathroom to get changed, since my brother and I were stuck sharing a bedroom. It was the last week of June, and the first week of summer vacation, and even though it had been warm all day it got cold fast once the sun went down. I was shivering in my summer pajamas as I walked down the unfamiliar hall.

      I had my hand on the light switch of our borrowed bedroom, and my body was already stepping away from the wall and toward the bunk bed when I saw it. It was grayish-greenish and it kind of squirshed up against the glass of the window.

      I screamed, but because I'd already been right on the brink of turning off the light my hand went ahead and flipped the switch. So then we were sitting there in a pitch black unfamiliar bedroom while something looked in from the outside.

      My brother Jacks said What are you DOING? but then he must have seen it, too, because his voice dropped off immediately.

      After a moment of terrified silence he said, What was that?

      I was a step away from the wall, too scared to move forwards or backwards. I had the silly feeling that if I reached my hand out again and groped for the light switch, instead my fingers might touch the squishy, rubbery, horrible THING I'd just seen lurking by the window.

      Did you see it? I asked.

      I can't see anything. Turn on the light.

      I don't know where the light is, I lied, and crossed my arms tightly around myself.

      He sighed and muttered something and then turned his book light so it shone in my direction. I hesitated, then followed the little trail of light to the bottom bunk and climbed in.

      Seriously, though, you saw it. Right? I bundled the quilt around my shoulders and for the first time wished he hadn't called dibs on the top bunk. I'd thought I was getting the best part of the deal at the time—who wants to have to go up and down a ladder every time you need the bathroom or something? Plus the bottom bunk was a double bed, and the top one was just a single.

      But now I couldn't help thinking that if that moldering THING came through the window or found its way to an unlocked door, I'd be within its reach.

      Sort of. Not really. Just a glimpse. What was it? My brother didn't sound scared, which I resented.

      I shook my head, then remembered he couldn't see me. I have no idea. I pictured it again: dead looking skin and sunken eyes that gleamed darkly when it looked at me. Sparse hair. Adult sized.

      It was a zombie, Jacks said decisively. Jackson is my brother, twelve years old and a know-it-all, but pretty good company.

      Which was just as well, since we'd be stuck hanging out with each other all summer.

      My best friends were all off doing interesting things.

      We, on the other hand, were in Glenwood. Well, technically we were in Appleton, which is across the river from Glenwood. My parents had come up with the dullest summer vacation idea of all time. We were going to spend our holidays exploring communities close to where we live, in central Newfoundland.

      I wished we were going to Florida, or that they'd sent us to summer camp somewhere.

      Instead we were stuck here, staying with friends of my parents.

      Mr. and Mrs. Davies' kids were a) older and b) not here. Their thirteen year old daughter was staying in St. John's with her brother, and he was so old that he had his own apartment and a job.

      The daughter's name was Emma, which I knew because she had pink wooden letters on her desk spelling it out. She'd left behind a note:

      1. Don't touch my stuff.

      2. Except for the books, which you're allowed to borrow as long as you wash your hands first.

      3. Mollie, the bag of make-up

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