Eli James Ghost Whisperer Novels & Stories

Issac pummels other souls to the brink of death and leaves them bleeding in the pool of their warm blood. "Loyal. The person who'd love me for me. The one who'll take care of me. Close to God. And the one who loves me so much. I want an old-school love. I'm not meant for this hookup era. I'm boring, I'm sorry," she said in a small voice, her eyes watering. She didn't understand where the conversation was going, she simply answered him whatever he asked her. "Anything else?" "I can't remember, wait. He must be a gentleman," She added.

Ella said sipping her wine. "It's done madam, just like you ordered,' the make voice came through. "Perfect," Ella said and went online, she had planned this thoroughly and there was no room for failure. It was night but Elise hadn't woken up, Ishmael had stayed beside her daughter hoping that she would get up soon. He could only imagine what the child would turn into, when her mother was a witch and the dad a vampire. This got him thinking, maybe Maya's sisters could be of help to her. Immediately Ishmael searched for Lisa who was sleeping in a sitting position. Ishmael shook her slightly and she woke up instantly.

But her mind kept pulling her back to the dream she’d been woken from-disoriented, flushed, breath caught in her throat. It hadn’t felt like a dream. More like a memory from another lifetime. The masked man - faceless but deeply familiar -had commanded her with a voice that vibrated down her spine. The way he touched her, rough and reverent all at once, had lit something dangerous in her belly. Her cheeks flared at the memory. "You’re quiet," Emily said, finally looking up from her screen. “You okay?” Cassie blinked. “Yeah. Just tired from yesterday.”

"I might not be back tonight. But tomorrow morning, I'll bring you your favorite pastries, okay?" Just like that, he was gone. His tablet was still on the couch in the living room. Isabella picked it up, noticing that his WhatsApp was still logged in. Two minutes ago, a woman under the name "Little Tease" had sent him a picture. The woman was dressed in a bunny girl outfit—black fishnet stockings and bright red high heels. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she was licking her fingers seductively. Samuel: Want more?

“I’m not who you thought I was.” A long pause. “Who are you?” he asked quietly. I held his gaze steadily. “Isla Hale. Daughter of Alpha Magnus Hale of the Crescent Moon Pack.” Recognition dawned slowly. The Crescent Moon Pack was ancient. Strategic. Powerful. “You hid that from me.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because I wanted someone to love me without my title.” The words were honest. Bare. “And now?” he asked. “Now I know what I was loved for.” His jaw tightened.

Another ghost asked me in a curious tone that made me smile at him. "My name is Leyla Summers. And I am known as the ghost hunter of Brooklyn. Ordinary people can not help me because they are blind. But you can see what no one can see. You keep your eyes in the dark. You know every hidden secret around. What we can not see, you know all about it. I need your help." I introduced myself to them and then I explained to them why I was there. They were definitely surprised to hear me. But then they just smiled at me and nodded their heads.

she breathed, but she didn't pull her hand away. "I am obsessed," Elias corrected. He moved with a sudden, fluid grace, pinning her against the seat. His hand slid from her wrist to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her damp hair. "For four centuries, I have been a ghost in my own life. And then you walked into that shop, smelling of the same lavender and rain, and I realized I would burn this entire city to the ground just to hear you say my name once more."

“I am calling you to wake.” The sea answered. Far beneath the waves, something stirred. Old sanctuaries long drowned flickered to life, their stones humming with recognition. Moon-marked shells cracked open along distant shores. Wolves who had hidden their nature for decades felt their hearts stutter, then beat stronger. “I am Elise,” she said, opening her eyes. “Daughter of Theresa. Born of land and sea. If you yet breathe, if you yet remember, follow the light.” She lowered her hands. The water surged outward in a single, powerful wave—not destructive, not violent, but vast. It raced across the surface, carrying her signal in all directions, a living pulse of moonlight that could not be mi

In Abigail’s heart of hearts, she already knows, she has a special admiration for Debbie since the day they met. Abby hasn’t forgotten the days she felt the special connection, though it may not mean anything to Debbie but mere thoughtless words. She can vividly recall; it was their first meet up, as Debbie whispers to her ears and said, “I prayed for you when you’re sick.” Abigail was puzzle when Debbie did know she was sick; in fact, she was not ill during that time. It remains a mystery to Abby why did Debbie whisper those words. It was a sweet melody that touches her soul.

With a final shove, he slammed Grayson against the cold metal of the morgue drawer. "This is her. Look at her! Look at the woman you abandoned—my sister!" Liam's voice was an icy blade, sharp and cutting. He forced Grayson to stare at my frozen body, lying there, still and lifeless. Grayson shut his eyes tight, his lips trembling as he muttered incoherently, "No, no, this isn't Belle. This can't be her! She's selfish, cruel, and vindictive. Someone like that doesn't just die—she wouldn't—she couldn't."