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    Her Nightmare House
    Her Nightmare House
    Her Nightmare House
    Ebook108 pages1 hour

    Her Nightmare House

    By C. B. Maurice

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Ginger Luchette had visions of running a charming B&B in the beautiful old house she bought. Unfortunately, that old house had more spirits than spirit and her dreams are turning into waking nightmares.

    Tim Sullivan took the handyman job at the old Crane House to put childhood stories of ghosts behind him. Too bad the ghosts are real and he can't leave the lovely Ginger to face these demons on her own.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChrista Maurice
    Release dateOct 10, 2017
    ISBN9781386617549
    Her Nightmare House

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      Book preview

      Her Nightmare House - C. B. Maurice

      Table of Contents

      Title

      Copyright 2017 C B Maurice

      Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Epilogue

      Also by C. B. Maurice

      Her Nightmare House

      By

      C. B. Maurice

      Copyright 2017 C. B. Maurice

      eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

      This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

      Keep in touch!

      Website

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      (but remember to follow or you’ll never hear from me again)

      Dedication

      To my mother’s cat Daisy who scared the living snot out of me during the writing of this book. Well played, kitty. Well played.

      Chapter One

      Ginger Luchette put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, set it for two and a half minutes, started it, and returned to the main parlor and the phone book. She hadn’t intended to be living in the main parlor the way the old man who had died in this house must have, but that’s the way it had played out and until she got the attic opened up and the bathroom it hopefully contained in working order, here she was.

      Okay Samuels and Sons, general contractors, let’s see what excuse you’re going to come up with, she muttered while it rang. Such a pretty house. Brick Victorian with all the cute gingerbread trim and the long windows. Once she got it running, she’d have her bed and breakfast booked months in advance just based on the picture on the website she planned to build. No way was she going to be able to do the work the house needed on her own though, no matter how many books she checked out of the library, how many employees of Lowe’s or Home Depot she consulted, or how many YouTube videos she watched.

      Samuels and Sons, general contractors, how can we help you?

      Hi, I’m in need of somebody to do several jobs for me. I need some wiring, some plumbing, some plastering. Just a lot of miscellaneous things. I’d like someone to come out and give me an estimate. Hell, I’d like to have someone come out period. For all the visitors this place got, she might as well be on the moon.

      Uh, okay. Papers shuffled on the other end. If you want to give me an address.

      She’d done this too many times. People really hated it when all their questions were answered before they asked them. That probably wasn’t helping matters. I’m a little out of town. The address is fourteen seventeen Orchard Road.

      "You’re the one who bought the Crane Farm? A cough. Ah, sorry. Let me see if anybody is free to go there."

      Great. At least this was better than oh sorries or maybe somebody can come out there in the next century. In the kitchen, the microwave dinged. Mmm, popcorn. Something good was going to come out of this evening. Climbing off the couch, she headed toward the delicious scent. Maybe she could bring somebody in from the next county. They might not have heard the stories, or they might be braver. Ghosts. Honestly.

      Angry voices came through the line, but so far nobody was talking to her. Ginger switched the phone to speaker and scooped the bowl of popcorn off the counter with her other hand.

      Hello?

      Yeah hi, I’m still here. She cradled the bowl, trying not to get hopeful. Twice already she’d been crushed when somebody sounded like they were going to brave the stories, but chickened out at the last minute.

      I’m Tim Samuels. I can be there in the morning.

      Really? Ginger tightened her grip on the bowl so she didn’t drop it.

      Yes. Is nine okay for you?

      Absolutely. Do you need directions?

      Tim laughed. No, I know where it is.

      Fantastic. I’ll see you first thing.

      See you in the morning. Ginger disconnected the call before Tim, dear, brave Tim, changed his mind. Then she glanced at the popcorn bowl. When had she put it in a bowl? The empty bag was crumpled in the pink plastic trashcan in the corner. The microwave was closed. She must have forgotten in the excitement of finally getting somebody to work on the house.

      That was it. She’d dumped popcorn in the bowl and thrown away the bag without thinking about it. The stress of this career switch must be getting to her.

      ***

      Tim parked in front of the Crane House. All night last night, everybody had been giving him shit about this. Including his own subconscious. Last time he was out here he had been in middle school and he’d ended up running away, screaming. So had the other three boys with him, but they didn’t feel the need to come back. Those long narrow windows still looked like evil eyes staring down at him.

      The front door swung open and Tim jumped backward into his truck. A woman wearing a black Star Wars t-shirt and stained jeans stepped out. No way should a woman named Ginger have black hair. It was false advertising.

      Hi! She bounded down the cracked brick stairs. You have no idea how happy I am to see you. Nobody would come out here. I don’t know if I’m too far out of town or what.

      Something about the shape of those gray eyes told him she was lying. That same something made him want to go along with her. You are pretty far out. Why don’t we take a walk around and you tell me what you think you want done?

      I want to turn this place into a bed and breakfast and restaurant. It’s a beautiful location, don’t you think?

      Yeah. Tim didn’t bother looking around. It was a nice level clearing, ringed with birch and bordered to the west and to the south by a stream. Too bad this evil bastard of a house sat in the middle of it. Maybe she’d consider a complete tear down. Though that might not fix the problems.

      I used to do logistics. I worked at a bunch of different places and kept getting laid off so this last time I just decided to chuck it all. I cashed out my 401K and bought this place. She grinned up at him. I’ve been up here all alone for about a week now. Other than calling around trying to get a contractor.

      She might not have had anyone to talk to for the past week, but she hadn’t been alone. Steps need redone, he said.

      I figured I could do that myself.

      Doubt it. The reason those bricks came apart is underneath. Tim hesitated on the doorstep. There wasn’t really anything in the house. Ghosts didn’t exist. All those stories just had his brain primed to see things that weren’t there and he was doing it again right now. Let’s go look inside.

      The last guy who lived here, Mr. Crane, he was living in this room over here. Ginger led him through the wide hall to the room on the left. This one connects right through to the butler’s pantry and the kitchen. There’s a bathroom wedged in the corner of the kitchen and that’s got to go. That’s funny. She stopped in the middle of the room.

      "What’s

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