Me and My Ghoulfriends

There's always fun to be had on a ghoul's night out.

By day, Larue Donavan is a down-to-earth bookstore owner. But by night, she's a world-renowned psychic investigator dedicated to helping lost spirits find peace. Dead people won't leave her alone and Abraham Lincoln thinks he's in charge of her love
-
life.

Larue can handle ghosts and undead presidents. It's the living
who
drive her crazy. When Callahan Weiss moves to town, the handsome newcomer opens a coffee shop right next door. She's smitten from the start, but she's not the only one -- The boutique owner across the street has her eye on Callahan too, and uses witchcraft to fight dirty. When Callahan gets hit by a love spell, Larue will need more than a little help from her ghoul-friends to save the day.

             
Me and My Ghoulfriends

Chapter 1

Dead people won’t leave me alone.

Allow me to explain. To put it simply, I talk to the dead. As if that fact alone isn’t bad enough, a famous ghost has latched onto me. A dreadfully persistent ghost, to say the least, and somewhat of a pain in the ass. His name was… Are you ready for this? No… You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. All right, here goes… Abraham Lincoln. Yes, as in the sixteenth President of the United States.

I know. I know.

I told you you wouldn’t believe me. One day, last month, I made the mistake of visiting the historic site of Lincoln’s birthplace, and guess who was hanging around? You got it, Abe Lincoln. He spotted me eyeing him right away, and he knew in an instant I could see him. The next thing I knew, he was sitting in the back seat of my car, impatiently waiting for a ride. It took me forever to convince him to scoot over in the seat. I had to explain it was either scoot over, or lose the hat. I couldn’t see out the rear view mirror.

So welcome to my world! I’m Larue Donavan, psychic medium and ghostbuster.

I was standing in the middle of a haunted mansion on my latest investigation, a place
comparable to Disneyworld’s Haunted Mansion.
The distinct feeling of someone’s hand on my upper arm had been undeniable. Icy fingers had coiled around my shoulder. My heart thumped, and if I’d looked close I was sure I could have seen my shirt moving with every thud. You’d think I’d be used to this sort of thing by now. Like I said, I’d been seeing dead people ever since I could remember.

Adrenalin
e
rushed through me like a gushing river as I slowly placed my foot on the step in front of me and forced the other one to do the same. The stairs made a creaking noise with every step I took, just like in the horror movies we’ve all watched, wide-eyed and terrified, at three a.m.

Heavy clomps from what I recognized as boots were following dangerously close to me. However, they weren’t mystery footsteps; I knew—without a doubt—whose boots were clipping at my heels. Honest Abe had followed me on yet another exploration of the unknown. It was pretty sad when a ghost hunter brought spirits with them on an investigation. Good thing the clients didn’t know.

“You’re reaching your late twenties soon, dear. All the good ones will be taken.”

I tried to tune him out, but it never worked. No matter how much I tried to ignore his mid-eighteen-hundreds dating-savvy comments it was nearly impossible. How could I concentrate on the task at hand with comments like those in my ear?

“I can help you find a husband if you’d like?”

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

That Abe, he sure did like to remind me I didn’t have a husband yet. I’d told him again and again it was hard to find a husband without ever having a date. Being dateless was the price I had to pay for living in such a small town. Nonetheless, my social calendar was booked—So what if it was with non-romantic dates from the spirit world?

Ever since I’d been a child I’d always had
someone
around, and by
someone
I mean a ghost. Most of the time it was just a poor lost soul who didn’t realize they’d died, but sometimes, perhaps, they just had unfinished business. Some took longer than others to cross over and it was always a struggle to help them. Abe was one of the hard ones.

On a whim, three years ago, I’d become a ghost hunter. Helping terrified people overcome their fears and ridding them of unwelcome spiritual visitors had become my fate. I figured what the hell, if dead people were talking to me anyway, I might as well lend a hand to a few frightened folks. Of course, it wasn’t my day job; by day I worked in my bookstore. However, when darkness fell—or the witching hour, as I referred to it—arrived, I liked to pursue the unknown. I had dealt with my share of demons over the years, and this was my little way of helping all humankind.

I gazed up at the dark form I’d been trailing ever since I’d felt that icy grip. It crossed the top of the stairs, as if taunting me, ready for a chase.
It
didn’t know what was in store for it, teasing
me
like that. I may be small, five foot two to be exact, but I packed a powerful punch. At least I envisioned that I did.

All right, who was I kidding? I was no Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I tried. I had my share of tricks up my sleeve to rid a building of unwanted visitors. Slowly I made my way up each step, hoping some unseen force wouldn’t push me to the bottom. I was positive Abe wouldn’t be much help in that situation. I could see the whole scene in my mind. President Lincoln would be reminding me that I was husbandless as I lay stretched out across the floor, bloody and bruised.

“Would you stop making that awful noise in my ear?” I snapped at Abe.

For heaven’s sake, did he have to walk so darn close? I got the sneaking impression he was afraid of ghosts.

As I reached the top of the old stairs, a frigid breeze zipped past, almost knocking the wind out of me. A bitter chill rippled down my spine. I prayed the spirit wouldn’t attach itself to me. I did not need another busy-body right now.

“You’ll never meet anyone hanging around scary places such as this one. What about that handsome fellow who came into your shop the other day?”

“Shush! You need to go and wait for me in the car. I’ll be finished soon. Now skedaddle.” I waved my hand in his direction and flashed him a stern glare. He sulked back to the front door, crestfallen.

Bless his heart. I felt guilty for snapping at him like that, but enough was enough from him. I knew all too well my dating life sucked; I didn’t need him to reaffirm that for me.

Quickly, I darted to my immediate right and aimed my gun to get a reading. (Don’t worry, it’s not a gun with bullets or anything, it just reads the temperature.) If cold air was present, I knew a ghost was near. Forty-five degrees and dropping. I let out a mouthful of air, and mist escaped my lips, wildly whipping around the space in front of me. Something supernatural was definitely going on in the house.

As I stood there with the cold circling around me, I heard a faint whisper from the bedroom directly in front of me. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the icy chill disappeared.

I thrust the gun up again, pointed it in the same direction and pulled the trigger. The temperature had risen back to a steady sixty-two degrees. I knew the spirit had been there and was trying to show himself to me, but he wasn’t having an easy time of it. Another one of the difficult ones.

What would I tell the homeowners if I couldn’t do away with the apparition? They’d been so desperate to get rid of the pesky spirit. Was I supposed to tell them they’d just have to deal with it? That was easier said than done.

I moved forward, entering the room where I’d heard the whispers, and where I suspected the shadowy form had vanished. Suddenly, I had an eerie feeling I was dealing with more than one entity, and that neither one of them wanted me around.

Great. A mob of ghosts ganging up on me.
Little by little, I approached the door, and then grasped the antique doorknob. It rattled slightly as I twisted. Slowly, I leaned my head into the room, grabbed the camera dangling from my neck and snapped half a dozen pictures.

Then, in an instant,
he
appeared beside the iron bed in the corner of the room. At first,
he
was just a misty silhouette. Then,
he
took on a human appearance right before my eyes. After all these years that still spooked me. What can I say? I’m still a scaredy-cat sometimes.

Within seconds, his features were very clear. Although he was still transparent, I could make out his expressive eyes, small nose and thin lips. The ghost wore a uniform.
Yes, now I recognized it, a uniform I’d seen before, gray with golden tassels
.
He was a Confederate soldier.

What would he do if I went to the car and came back with President Lincoln? That would almost be worth the dating comments I had to endure. I decided against it—it may backfire on me. The spirit stared at me at first with a stern look in his dark eyes, making my heart beat just a little faster with anticipation. But then they softened the minute I spoke to him.

“I’m Larue, and I’m here to help you,” I said softly.

Of course, he didn’t actually speak like you and I do, instead it was a telepathic message sent directly to me. I heard my ghost hunting partners downstairs making a little noise. It wasn’t loud, but I prayed they wouldn’t scare the apparition away.

I know, scare a ghost away, how does that happen? Remember, they were once people just like us, and their souls are the same as they always were. They get scared too. Thankfully, my ghostly soldier still stood there, unfazed by the noise. It’s as if I’d put him in a trance. I had a feeling he was grateful to have someone communicate with him.

“I need to get back to my men, they need me. I’m lost here and I don’t know what to do,” he said.

His voice was powerful and I was sure he’d commanded attention with it everywhere he went, in his day. But
oh dear, he thought the war was still being fought
.

“You have to move on. The war is long over. All of your loved ones are waiting for you,” I offered.

I could sense the hesitancy in his features.

He tensed up. Clearly, he was confused and didn’t know if he should believe me. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe me.

After a long pause I asked, “Do you remember anything? How long you have been here?”

I frowned, unable to hold back my sad emotions. Gloom was hanging in the air, emanating from the dead solider. I felt so bad for him I wanted to offer him a big hug.

“I remember being shot and coming to this house. I believe it was in use as a hospital. I’ve been here ever since,” he said as he lowered his head, staring at his boots.

What must it be like to be so confused and stuck in one place for so long? Heck, that would drive me batty. It was my job to help him and convince him to move on, but I sensed he didn’t truly understand the full breadth of the situation yet.

“You do want to see your relatives right? Perhaps you had a wife, children or parents?”

“I have a wife and four children. I miss them terribly.” He didn’t lift his head to look at me as he answered.

“You have to realize there is nothing left for you here. Your wife is waiting for you in the light. Have you seen the bright light before?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. I don’t want to go to it. It appears every once in a while, but I have to stay here.” He raised his voice, and it boomed loudly in my head. His voice was austere.

“Your wife is in the light. I promise you. You will see her again if you go into the light,” I pleaded.

He looked intently at me, contemplating what I’d just said.