A Ghost In Monte Carlo Novels & Stories

In the moonlight, a woman in a white lace dress was kneeling on the stone steps of the chapel, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling. She had no feet. Below her dress, there was only a swirling black mist. "I see her." Lorenzo let out a low whistle. "Two years ago, Marco put her in the ground right there. Her ashes are buried under the rose bushes behind the chapel." I didn't stop, walking straight toward the chapel. Giovanni froze behind me but didn't dare to call out. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the female ghost's head snapped up. She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits.

"Get mad at me, Vejar! I won't allow you to have anything against me!" Before Mateo could get into his car, he screamed and grabbed the back of his head. "Oh, bull's eye!" Giovanni whistled when he threw his removed shoe right at Mateo. It was wise to hit my brother-in-law's head! My goodness! "Ahhh—Put it on Rossi!" "Come on, Mira! Get on!" I was so surprised that Giovanni immediately entered me in the shotgun seat and quickly maneuvered. The crazy man will laugh; even though he is far away and has already left almost the entire village, he still seems to be able to see the appearance of my brother-in-law.

The passenger manifest is encrypted, but the billing address is tied to a Montgomery Holdings subsidiary. I locked the screen, the pale blue light reflecting off the dark glass. Richard wasn't waiting for next week. He was bringing the ghost into the city tonight. I walked into my study, sat behind the massive mahogany desk, and opened my laptop. If Marcus Sterling thought he could return to this city and finish what he started twenty years ago, he was severely mistaken. I wasn't the helpless teenager he left behind in a ruined house anymore. I had the resources, the power, and the absolute lack of mercy required to bury both him and Richard Montgomery under the weight of their own greed.

Everyone was doing something with their Ouija board but Autumn, well she had no idea on how to even use the thing so she kept copying everyone especially Jay, he seemed to know what he was doing but along the line she got the step wrong and cut herself by accident, her eyes grew thin as her hand kept moving and it drew the attention of everyone, on her Ouija board were symbols, the blood from her hand kept flowing down and staining the floor, no one knew how but it was a bad cut then they thought everything was okay until the ghost kept searching for something endlessly, he stopped when he noticed her drawings, "The symbol of the Ghoul, you summoned a ghoul, impossible." She felt dizzy and h

“I was in and out of sleep.” “Thoughts of Titanic?” He turned to face her now, and he was sitting more closely than she thought prudent. “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “Most of my ghosts reside elsewhere.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m sorry, Meg.” “I don’t need your sympathy either,” she reminded him, though her tone was just as innocent as his had been. “I suppose not,” he admitted, turning back to face her. “But you have it just the same.”

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

She was nothing but one of his accomplished missions. Don Carianno noticed the grimace on his face. "You okay?" "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." Ghost forced a smile, reaching for a cigarette in his breast pocket. "Light?" Don Carianno lit it up for him and tossed the lighter on the table. "Tell me something, Ghost. Is there a reason you're interested in Ciara Macdonald?" "What?" Ghost was caught off guard by the question and almost gulped down the smoke. "I'm not –"

She reacted to his fiery kiss with equal fervour as he bit her lips, prying his tongue into her mouth. It was a strange phenomenon. Ghosts could not be touched or seen by normal people. But the custom of a ghost marriage binds a couple in such a way, that they can invoke passions in each other as well. Chaerin felt desire, sexual attraction and felt every touch of Joonjae's.

Just poured himself a coffee, black and bitter, and leaned against the counter like the weight of the building could hold him steady. Ghost appeared like he always did, silent and sudden, leaning in the doorway with a cigarette burning low. His pale eyes cut across the room, landing on Rhett, steady and unblinking. “You didn’t sleep,” Ghost said. Not a question. A fact. Rhett took a swallow of coffee that burned all the way down. “Didn’t need to.”

Mac looks up as I approach, his face pale, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “You don’t have the case of money or the shipment,” I say, my voice measured but laced with irritation. “What the hell happened?” “It… it was Ghost,” Mac stammers, his words tripping over each other. “He showed up at the docks. He knew about the shipment. He… he took everything.” The name hits me like a slap. Valenti Moretti. Ghost. Of course it’s him. Always him. “He took it?” I repeat, my voice dropping dangerously low.