“VICTORIA LAURIE IS THE QUEEN OF PARANORMAL MYSTERIES.”
—BookReview.com
Praise for the New York Times Bestselling Ghost Hunter Mystery Series
“A bewitching book blessed with many blithe spirits. Will leave you breathless.”
—Nancy Martin, author of the Blackbird Sisters Mysteries
“Laurie’s new paranormal series lights up the night.”
—Elaine Viets, Anthony and Agatha award–winning author of Murder Is a Piece of Cake
“Reminiscent of Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s bunch, Laurie’s enthusiastic, punchy ghost busters make this paranormal series one teens can also enjoy.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Filled with laugh-out-loud moments and nail-biting, hair-raising tension, this fast-paced, action-packed ghost story will keep readers hooked from beginning to end.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Well-written and engaging. . . a pleasure to read.”
—Gumshoe
“[A] fun, suspenseful, fast-paced paranormal mystery. All the elements combine to make this entry in the Ghost Hunter series a winner.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“A lighthearted, humorous haunted-hotel horror thriller kept focused by ‘graveyard’ serious M. J.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“Ms. Laurie has penned a fabulous read and packed it with ghost-hunting action at its best. With a chilling mystery, a danger-filled investigation, a bit of romance, and a wonderful dose of humor, there’s little chance that readers will be able to set this book down.”
—Darque Reviews
“Victoria Laurie continues to excite and entertain with her ideas and characters and also inform John Q. Public in matters metaphysical. Cannot wait for the next from Ms. Laurie!”
—AuthorsDen.com
“Perhaps what makes this story and this series so good is that Victoria Laurie is actually a professional medium. She knows what she’s talking about, and she sure can write a good story.”
—A Bibliophile’s Bookshelf
“A great, fast-paced, addicting read.”
—Enchanting Reviews
“A great story.”
—MyShelf.com
“Entertaining. . . . With witty dialogue, adventurous mystery, and laugh-out-loud humor, this is a novel that you can curl up with [and] get lost in.”
—Nocturne Romance Reads
“This highly entertaining book has humor and wit to spare.”
—Romantic Times
Praise for the
Abby Cooper, Psychic Eye Mysteries
“Victoria Laurie has crafted a fantastic tale in this latest Psychic Eye Mystery. There are few things in life that upset Abby Cooper, but ghosts and her parents feature high on her list. . . giving the reader a few real frights and a lot of laughs.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Fabulous. . . . Fans will highly praise this fine ghostly murder mystery.”
—The Best Reviews
“A great new series. . . plenty of action.”
—Midwest Book Review
“An invigorating entry into the cozy mystery realm. . . I cannot wait for the next book.”
—Roundtable Reviews
“A fresh, exciting addition to the amateur sleuth genre.”
—J. A. Konrath, author of Cherry Bomb
“Worth reading over and over again.”
—BookReview.com
ALSO BY VICTORIA LAURIE
The Ghost Hunter Mystery Series
What’s a Ghoul to Do?
Demons Are a Ghoul’s Best Friend
Ghouls Just Haunt to Have Fun
Ghouls Gone Wild
Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls
Ghoul Interrupted
The Psychic Eye Mystery Series
Abby Cooper, Psychic Eye
Better Read Than Dead
A Vision of Murder
Killer Insight
Crime Seen
Death Perception
Doom with a View
A Glimpse of Evil
Vision Impossible
Lethal Outlook
WHAT A GHOUL WANTS
A GHOST HUNTER MYSTERY
Victoria Laurie
Contents
Praise
Also By Victoria Laurie
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Excerpt from GHOST HUNTER MYSTERY
OBSIDIAN
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
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First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Copyright © Victoria Laurie, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales 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.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
For Katie Coppedge
Who keeps me sweetly ensconced in a pink bubble of kindness and c
are and showers me with friendship and love. A better BFF a girl never had.
Acknowledgments
Most people don’t know this about me, but I’m an introvert. For reals. I may appear to be an outgoing, high-energy, let’s-go-party-like-it’s-1999 kind of gal, but the real truth is that I like my world small and peaceful, with just a few close friends, not a lot of drama, quiet mornings, quiet afternoons, quiet evenings. . . . You get the picture. Too much social interaction tends to exhaust me, and it took me a long time (forty-five years to be exact) to figure this out and explain it to others so that they could understand why I sometimes just “vant to be alone.” Along the way I’ve sadly lost a few friends who didn’t understand that in those long stretches of silence, I wasn’t withholding from them—I was simply regenerating all the energy I’d just given away to other people—but I’ve actually come out ahead because all the people still left in my inner circle are the most wonderful group of family and friends any lucky schmuck like me could ever hope to have.
Coincidentally (or perhaps not), this list of wonderful people includes those amazingly talented folks who assist me professionally too. I’m crazy blessed, I tell you!
So, without further ado, I’d like to share a few words of thanks to them for all they do and let them know that I am deeply grateful they remain faithfully devoted to me and the cause.
First, my editor, Mrs. Sandra Harding-Hull. Few people in this world surprise me, but Sandy does it on a regular basis with her keen insight, kind words, amazing advice, and all-around goodness! I would go to the ends of the earth for this woman, and what a lucky, lucky thing to have her editing my series. In short. . . she’s da bomb!
My agent, Mr. Jim McCarthy, whom I truly think of as my brother. The benefit is that we don’t have all that sibling rivalry, mom-likes-you-better baggage between us. He’s simply my bro, and I adore him, and with every new book I delight in the opportunity to let him know how grateful I am to have him as my agent, muse, friend, and an honorary part of my family. Love you, sweetie.
Also, HUGE thanks go to my Obsidian team, Elizabeth Bistrow, Sharon Gamboa, Michele Alpern, and Claire Zion. I wish every book lover could understand how selfless and dedicated you publishing folks are. I wish more people could know your names and sing your praises, because, to a person, you are remarkable, and I’m very, very grateful for all you do for me and the books.
Katie Coppedge, to whom this book is dedicated, gets a giant shout-out for being just the most wonderfully kind, caring, amazing, and awesome BFF a girl could ever, ever have! Honey, there just aren’t words to describe all you mean to me, or how grateful I am for all you do to support victorialaurie.com. What kismet to have met you and ultimately realize what a very special lady you are!
Sandy Upham—my sistah! Love you so much, honey. Thank you for being there and for sharing my past, present, and future with me. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to go from cradle to grave with.
Team Lo also gets a special mention here too, because if not for the miles and the races they’ve been making me run lately, I would’ve succumbed to the overbearing weight brought on by the bags and bags of potato chips that each book requires. Also, they’re a pretty spectacular group of ladies as ladies go—each of them a personal hero of mine. K-Lo (Karen Ditmars), Lee-Lo (Leanne Tierney), and Kat-Lo (Katie Coppedge), I lurves ya, and here’s to that next half marathon!
One more very special shout-out goes to my writing/conference buddies who’ve taken me into their group and delighted me with their loveliness, wit, sincerity, and charm! Juliet Blackwell, Sophie Littlefield, and Nicole Peeler, whenever I’m around you three, I feel like we could (should!) rule the world!
Finally, the rest of that inner circle must be mentioned! Jackie Barrett, Will Barrett, and Jo Angelli—my family away from family. No words to express how much you three mean to me, so I’ma just say thank you from my whole heart for all your love and support and send you three some GIGANTIC mental hugs and loves here, m’kay?
More of those mental hugs and loves should go to the Brosseaus! Nora, Bob, Liz, Kate, Mike, and Nick. You guys rule! And while I’m sending hugs, loves, and thank-yous, more should go to my supersmart, supercool nephews, Matt and Mike Morrill (so proud of you two!); Steve McGrory (McGlorious!); Shannon and John Anderson (waving at you!); my beeeeautiful cousin Hilary Laurie (more waving and blowing kisses!); Thomas Robinson; Silas Hudson; Suzanne Parsons; Drue Rowean; Betty and Pippa Stocking; John Kwiatkowski and Matt McDougall (heart you both HUGE!); Juan Tamayo and Rick Michael; Nicole Grey; Molly Boyle; and Martha Bushko.
I love each and every one of you. Forevs.
Chapter 1
My best friend, Gilley, has this list. It’s not necessarily a long list, but it’s definitely growing. The list is best described as:
Things That Give Gilley the Weirds.
Once an item gets listed, it’s never removed. If you make it onto the list, you’re there for life.
It’s probably good, then, that there’s only one actual named person on Gilley’s list—Dakota Fanning. Why her? Well, in Gilley’s words, “No one that young should be that talented and that smart. It’s just weird.”
Other notable items include mice—but not rats or bugs; lady parts—for obvious reasons (Gil is as gay as they come); baby corn (“It’s not corn, but it looks like corn, and that can’t be okay!”); leggings worn as pants; people who give an uncommon spelling to an otherwise common name, like Jyan, Mykel, or Dyafdd; and Cirque du Soleil acrobats (“No one should be able to bend like that!”).
Animated talking animals are near the top of the list, and if you combine these with Dakota Fanning—say, in the movie Charlotte’s Web, for example—you’re liable to send Gil right over the edge.
Last on Gilley’s list, but certainly not least, are ghosts.
Yes, you read that right. Ghosts give Gilley the weirds. Which can be super inconvenient given that Gil is also the technical adviser on our ghost-hunting cable TV show, Ghoul Getters.
In fact, the ghost thing was proving more than a little problematic on this particular evening—or midafternoon according to my watch, now set to Greenwich Mean Time—as I squatted next to Gil in the middle of the aisle of the British Airways jet that had brought us back to England.
“Gil,” I said for the eleventieth time. “Please. For the love of God. Let go of the armrest and come off the plane.”
“Sir, ma’am, I really must insist,” interrupted the most unhelpful flight attendant ever. “You must deplane immediately.”
Gil ignored him and focused his fearful gaze on me. “Please don’t make me, M. J.,” he begged. “I can’t do it.”
I rubbed his arm. “Sweetie,” I said, fighting to keep my lids open. I was so exhausted I felt punch-drunk. “Come off the plane and we’ll talk about it, okay?”
“Talking about it means you’ll make me do it,” he countered. He knew me too well.
My eyes flickered nervously to the front of the plane where Gopher, our TV producer, stood watching us with an impatient and irritated look on his face. “Gil,” I said (eleventy times plus one if you’re counting), “I swear to you, I’m not going to try and talk you into anything other than coming off the plane and heading to bed. I know you must be exhausted, right?”
Gil bit his lip. “I want to go back,” he whispered.
“Ma’am,” said the flight attendant, “if he doesn’t deplane, I’ll have no choice but to alert security.”
I turned my head and glared so hard at the attendant that he frowned and took two steps back. I then refocused on Gilley. “Honey,” I said gently, “this plane is parked for the rest of the day right here. It’s not going anywhere for the next thirteen hours. You don’t want to sit here for thirteen straight hours, do you?”
“If it means going someplace other
than the next ghostbust, I’ll stay put,” Gil said stubbornly.
“But you won’t be able to sleep,” I told him.
“I can sleep okay,” he replied, and I knew he was right. Gil could sleep standing up.
“There’ll be no food,” I tried next.
I heard a tiny gurgle from Gil’s stomach. Still, he pressed his lips together and gripped the armrests even tighter. “I’ll be fine.”
I sighed and thought for a second. Then I had it. “Well,” I said, “you won’t be able to use the restroom, Gil. And I saw you gulp down at least two bottled waters and a couple of Cokes on the way here. That’s gonna be hard to hold until tomorrow morning.”
Gil shifted in his seat.
“I mean, don’t you have to go even right now?” I asked, standing up like I didn’t care anymore if he refused to get off the plane.
Gil squirmed again and crossed his legs.
“I know I really have to use the restroom,” I lied. I’d hit the head right before our final approach. “Yep. Has to be a pretty uncomfortable feeling, knowing you’ll have to hold it for the next thirteen hours.”
Gil set his jaw with determination. “I can do it.”
I nodded like I totally believed him. “Sure you can, honey. While you’re holding it, I’m gonna hit the ladies’ room. Then I’m gonna head to the hotel and drink a nice big glass of water. Then I’m gonna take a nice long shower. You know the kind where you just turn the water on and stand under it forever? It’s like standing in the rain. Water just streaming down and down. . .”
With an irritated grunt Gil unfastened his seat belt and bolted to his feet. Tearing down the aisle, he nearly took out Gopher as he pushed past him on his way off the plane.
I bent down and grabbed Gilley’s gear before hurrying after him, making sure to send the flight attendant one final glare before the exit.
By the time I made it to the top of the Jetway, Gil wasn’t in sight. Instead my boyfriend and fellow ghostbuster, Heath, was there waiting for me. “He ran into the men’s room,” he told me when I looked all around for Gil.