A GUY: Brad loves hanging out with Traci. She’s cute, smart, and funny. But she seems a little jumpy around him lately. Is she hiding something?
A GHOST: How can Traci be getting e-mails from her best friend who died two years ago? Is someone playing a cruel joke, or does Corky really need her help? Traci plans to find out – her new romance with Brad depends on it.
A Girl, A Guy, And A Ghost, by Sherrie Kelley, available from Climbing Rose of The Wild Rose Press.
Excerpt from A Girl, A Guy, And A Ghost:
“Shut the door, Bobcat.”
Traci choked on a scream. “Wh…what?” It had been Corky's voice, or someone who could sound exactly like him.
“Shut the door, will you? I don't think Mom could stand the strain, do you? She doesn't look so good.”
Corky again. His voice…but where was he?
Scanning the room with bulging eyes, Traci slowly shut the door. She didn't want to but she also didn't want Mrs. Evans to hear her…or him. If there was indeed a him. “Where…where are you?” She'd play along with the full knowledge this was an elaborate, not-very-funny hoax. Nevertheless, she kept her voice slightly above a whisper.
“Over here, on the bed. I haven't figured out how to make myself visible yet. I can make a few sparks, but that's about it.”
Traci swayed where she stood. She stuck her hands behind her to brace herself against the door. Her heart had lodged somewhere between her tonsils and her voice box.
“Come on, Trace! You've never been a coward. Don't start wimping out of me now. I thought you'd never come over.”
Coward? Her? Absolutely, and she wasn't ashamed of the fact. “You…you…” It was no use. She wasn't getting much past the heart in her throat. She tried unsuccessfully to swallow it. Corky was a ghost, yet he was talking to her as if he'd never died.
“Man, I see you've lost most of your baby fat. Guess chasing boys will do
that to you.”
It was Corky all right. He'd always had the knack for ruffling her feathers. She licked her dry-as-a-bone lips and tried to talk again. “You…” Okay, so she had a voice, but it sounded like it belonged to someone else. “Is…is that really you?”