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    Ghost Hunters Anthology 02: Ghost Hunter Mystery Parable Anthology
    Ghost Hunters Anthology 02: Ghost Hunter Mystery Parable Anthology
    Ghost Hunters Anthology 02: Ghost Hunter Mystery Parable Anthology
    Ebook130 pages1 hour

    Ghost Hunters Anthology 02: Ghost Hunter Mystery Parable Anthology

    By S. H. Marpel

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    About this ebook

    The Continuing Saga of the Ghost Hunters

    A mystery-detective writer is recruited by two enticing young spirit guides, who are capable of transporting him through space and time to solve the problems of ghosts stuck in this dimension. 

    A follow-up anthology with their continuing adventures, as they further explore the unseen enemies they face who want to keep the ghosts haunting here. 

    As well, the relationships between a young man and two very female guides develop as they continue working side-by-side. All learning from their various adventures and mysteries.

    This anthology contains:

    • The Haunted Ghost
    • Faith
    • Harpy
    • The Ghost Who Loved

    Excerpt from The Haunted Ghost:

    Jude and Sal phased in like before. They phased me outside, on a rock outcropping outside a second floor window opening. Narrow, but still wide enough if there wasn't a harsh wind or earthquake.

    The apparition started as before, with the lady in white with the single rose walking toward the two. I could see the whole scene from outside.

    Then the floor dropped out, but Sal and Jude kept standing like nothing happened.

    The walls had returned to their actual state, and a bright moon was shining down from above, lighting the open walls.

    The face on the lady was one of shock. She had quit screaming once she saw that Sal and Jude hadn't changed position, but were smiling at her. This was my cue.

    "Hey, over here! Can you help me? I just had some simple questions for you. Please come here, I'd like to hear your thoughts and your story," I said, as enthusiastic as I could, given that I couldn't move anywhere safely on that narrow ledge.

    The lady glided towards me and again put the rose between her two hands. My asking questions, from what should have been a solid wall, really threw her off her game.She was puzzled, a slight frown on her face. "Why do you want to ask me questions? No one has ever wanted to know my opinion..."

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLive Sensical Press
    Release dateJul 22, 2018
    ISBN9781386560722
    Ghost Hunters Anthology 02: Ghost Hunter Mystery Parable Anthology
    Author

    S. H. Marpel

    Get Your Copy Now Visit https://LiveSensical.com/books for more entertaining, educational, and inspiring stories that you can read over and over, time after time... Investing in your entertainment is better than just spending.

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      Book preview

      Ghost Hunters Anthology 02 - S. H. Marpel

      The Haunted Ghost

      I

      WHEN I WOKE UP, THERE was someone behind me. Right behind me. The soft breathing on your back that only a sleeping woman can make.

      She was curled up like a spoon behind me. Her knees behind mine and that made her head nestle just between my shoulder-blades. I felt her breathing through my cotton t-shirt and her warmth seeping from her legs through the grey sweat pants I wore this time of year.

      The room was warm, pleasantly so. Spring had come, but still got cold enough at night to keep the windows shut. And the heavy outside door was shut as well. The cabin was so small and weather-tight that two bodies kept the room warmish. Warmer than I did on my own. And multiple comforters preserved that heat. I hadn’t changed out to lighter blankets yet. That would happen when I started keeping windows open to get the cabin cool, instead of keeping it warm.

      Her arm was across my waist, underneath my own arm. Reaching back to touch her gently, not wanting to wake her and spoil this good morning surprise, I touched her hip and found she was wearing nothing. More surprise for me.

      Too many more good surprises like that and the excitement would start affecting me in ways I wasn’t prepared for.

      Because I’d moved out to this remote site to remove distractions from my life, to study the human condition from afar. Not intimately.

      Who was this woman, how did she get here without waking me, what did she want? Those were the questions I had. For now, though, I still relished the quiet, warm, early farm morning.

      At that thought of mine, she stirred, raising her head. Good morning, sunshine.

      It was Jude. And now I made out the smell of roses from her hair.

      And a good morning to you. Don’t move. You can probably tell this cot wasn’t made for two, I replied. She was between me and the other half of the couch-futon as it rose up the wall. The warning for her not to move was more for my benefit.

      I could hear a smile in her voice, And why would I ever want to move? This is so comfortable I could stay here for days, maybe weeks.

      Other than having to take a potty break, and getting something to eat, I said.

      She answered, Well, OK. There is that.

      And how did you get here? I asked.

      She replied. Took some tricky landing skills. To get in, under the covers, without waking you.

      I couldn’t see her face as I was still facing outward. Well, I’m going to move now. Just to warn you.

      Considering my options, I flipped over the outer corner of the blankets and slid out my legs. Rising up to a sitting position, I pulled the comforters back over behind me without turning. At least for my sense of modesty, if not Jude’s.

      I turned my head to look at her. She was smiling at this. Her light face was a beacon in the middle of the riot of her uncombed coal-black hair. Against the blue and off-white patterns of quilted comforter blocks, she was the opposite of order. The snow white skin of her shoulders and arms added to the riot of randomness against the brown and blond ordered calm of the wooden interior walls and trim. While she had pulled the comforter across her chest, one arm was on top of it. Her hand traced the seams of the squares across the top of her hip.

      I had to smile back. You know you’re cute. I just wish you wouldn’t use it against me.

      Surprise lit her face as her smile turned into a grin. John, you know I wouldn’t do anything to bring you pain.

      It’s your concept of pleasure that has me concerned. I was still smiling, still amused. And still pleased to be woken up in such a novel way.

      Moving to the small kitchenette, I poured some water into the coffee maker to perk some coffee. My own blend of chicory and dark roast would have the small cabin flavored in a few minutes. The trick is what we do now.

      Leaning back against the cabinets opposite the kitchenette showed how very small they were. I could feel the door frame against both my shoulders, one touching the end wall of the cabin while the other went beyond the corner into the room. Just barely. But my shoulders were broader than most, my cabinets narrower than many.

      Jude frowned as a tease. You mean moving this futon down to full size so we can have some real fun, or just getting dressed?

      Getting you dressed and me changed. I replied.

      She sighed, Such a prude you are. All non-dressed up and nowhere to go. And at that she made a small sign from her naked arm above her hip. Then shimmered to re-appear standing by the couch.

      Now she wore a fitted black bolero jacket that ended just above her low-cut black jeans. A black satin long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned half-way down stuffed into her jeans at the top. Her feet were supported her black Timberland boots, that barely peaked beyond the flare-cut jeans.

      One hand was poised as a suggestion on her hip, while her other hand pushed her long locks out of her face. The hair was grooming itself into a thick, braid which came across her shoulder ending just beyond the swell of her jacket front. It had a black satin ribbon as a bow.

      Her grin was still as mischievous, and her red lips stood out in contrast to her pale skin and dark eyes. Her makeup was perfect, with long black lashes and goth-shadowed black eyes.

      I was amazed, as usual.

      Jude suddenly frowned. Staring off to the side, unfocused. Then looking back to me. Sal has been looking for me. I said I’d bring you.

      I turned to switch off the coffee, only to find that Jude had already done so.

      And then the room shimmered and the cabin disappeared.

      II

      WHEN I TURNED BACK around, we were in a briefing room. Somewhere near the library, I suspected, as the smell of old books and charts was present. A few rows of mahogany tables with sturdy mission-style wooden chairs lining one long side. The chairs facing some sort of black chalkboard smudged and erased often ran the width of the room.

      I wasn’t in my sweatpants now. I looked down to find that I was in my regular blue work dungarees, sturdy pull-on brown boots, and now a brown duck jacket over a dark gray sweatshirt and a t-shirt below that. While I was glad to be changed into work clothes, it wasn’t that comfortable to know Jude could re-dress me on the fly.

      Looking up and over at Jude found her grinning at me, and she gave me a wink.

      Sal wasn’t particularly amused. She was standing with her fists on both hips and a frown on her face. As usual, dressed in her gold pin-striped business jacket and slacks with a white long-sleeved shirt buttoned up the top. Her blond hair was hanging just past the top of her shoulders, parted on the side and styled for a business meeting. If you two are ready, we have an assignment.

      I blushed at this, Wait, you don’t think we were...

      Sal replied, curt, No, not you. But Jude and I have had this conversation before. We have our differences of opinion about many things. One of them is in how we interact with our ghost hunters. In the last hundred years or so...

      Jude interrupted in a mock-authoritarian voice, ‘...we’ve been held to a higher standard than the cultures we’ve interacted with, that we are responsible for.’ Sal, you know this lecture by heart as I do. Canoodling with the help isn’t prohibited anywhere in the regulations.

      Oh, so you were ‘canoodling’, is that what you call it? Sal’s frown deepened.

      Before I could object, Jude

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