Havok Publishing

Tag - ghosts

The Gravedigger

Wisely they leave graves open for the dead
‘cos some too early are brought to bed.

I flung the last shovel of dirt over my shoulder and climbed out of the hole. Tossing the shovel to the ground, I wiped my hands on a handkerchief from my back pocket.
“How many more this week?” I asked.

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The Lady in the Lake

It was so peaceful, there in the lake, that it was a long time before I noticed I was dead. The green water was cold with autumnal chill yet gentle like the sweetest embrace. I drifted in it among the tall water plants and funny little fishes, humming to myself and thinking of…

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Cheating Death

“Tell me, Eliza Booker. Do you really think you can cheat death?”
Smoke filled my lungs; my breath came in strangled puffs. Around me, a circle of fire blazed—all thanks to the pyre-loving poltergeist smirking like a Jack-o-lantern amid the chaos.
Its appearance continually shifted, like shadows that couldn’t latch onto a form.

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Polly

August 31st
3:20 a.m.
I crept along the shadows of Buck’s Row in London, humming a song underneath my breath. Brownstone buildings loomed over me, and my foot clacked against a circular black plaque.
I giggled, a slightly intoxicated sound.
“Careful where you’re walking there, missum,” said a voice with a heavy London accent.

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Tanabata Torrents

“If we said wedding vows, do you think we’d say ‘‘til death do us part,’ or ‘‘til death bring us together’?” I raised my gray, ghostly hand to view it in the moonlight.
“I don’t know, Eliza, but d’ya think you can ask this question again after we stop two raging yōkai from…

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Derby Colors

It’s quite odd, realizing you’re dead.
Strangely, I didn’t know immediately. My epiphany happened last Derby, when I kissed my now-boyfriend, Reynolds, for the first time. He was a stranger then, but I realized when our lips met he had more substance. He was tangible; I was vaporous fluff.
And Eliza Booker is not vaporous or fluffy.

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Tombstone Terror

“Don’t be a fool, son.” The saloon’s bartender nodded toward the revolver holstered on my belt. “This town got a history. On the full moon—”
“I ain’t scared of no Wyatt Earp. No killer, frontier, quick-shooting lawmen are going to get me, no sir.” I downed my drink. “Pretty sure Johnny Ringo and his outlaws are six feet below, too.

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Salvation

Warmth does not come to the peaks as quickly as it does the valley. For though the mountains here remain frozen in winter’s grasp, the basin below my tomb has thawed, and in the valley, flowers bloom. From the summit I watch as thick snow melts and flows into rising streams that feed the invaders’ crops and cattle and greed.

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Arlman Graveyard

The black owl spoke into Vjun’s ear. “Are you sure you can do this?”
The vampire hunter rolled his eyes. “For the hundredth time, yes, I’m sure.”
He crept up a hill through dark trees, making his way by moonlight, Aryana perched on his shoulder. He held a crossbow, already loaded with a bolt dipped in fae blood.

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Rascal, Rat, or…Pirate?

“Em! This wardrobe is perfect for your new apartment!” Gillian waved emphatically at a cedar monstrosity.
Scowling at her exuberant friend, Em pointed to deep scratches marring the doors. “Why would I want something that looks like it picked a fight with raccoons and lost?”
“We can sand those out. It’ll look vintage.”

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Grim

“Plan on harvesting some wheat?” Jake asked, lifting a brow. “Or hacking your way through the jungle?” Trent snorted. I rolled my eyes. “This”—I proffered the scythe—“is a souvenir from my latest investigation.” “Another spirit taking issue with his new living conditions?” Jake paused. “Or, I guess, lack thereof?”

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Dead Men Tell No Tales

“The wax man’s face is melting off!” Another one for the list of weird things that I say with surprising regularity.
“Melting how?” James Prothero asks.
I scowl at him over my shoulder. “How many ways can I mean melting?”
“Are we talking Wicked Witch of the West or Ark of the Covenant?”

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