Ghost On The Titanic Novels & Stories

The coincidence was just too much to be true. He took another look at the name on the ID card; with his imaginative eyes he slowly turned the name Heaven backwards and it appeared as Nevaeh. He has been sleeping with a ghost he concluded. There was no need to call a prophet to reveal it, even the blind will see and understand this. He needs to drive this thought away, make the pain and fear disappear, he needs to get drunk; so he ran away from the morgue and went to a beer parlour.

Alice said, looking away, "and because at that time, you had started to fall for her. You... you loved her." Grayson didn't speak for a long time. His eyes were distant, and then he muttered, "We're both guilty, aren't we? Let's go be with her now." He filled the bathtub with water and, with grim determination, lowered Alice into it. The fear on her face was almost too much to bear, but there was no turning back now. With swift, decisive hands, he slit her wrist. Then, without a second thought, he joined her in the water, slashing at his own wrist.

Those eyes lifted and locked on mime and the glass instantly stopped moving. “The dead has no business with the living, Riven Cole,” he said, voice low enough that only I heard the tremor under it. “We don't tend to corpses here.” I crossed the distance, my boots leaving wet prints on sawdust, then I placed my hands on the counter and said in a low voice, “Then pour one for a ghost.” The room seemed to respond to my words like they heard me, a hush spreading round. I heard a chair scraping the ground and seconds later, someone in the back muttered “traitor”.

"El Cajon tried to stop him." "He knew Moretti for the monster he truly is." "But now, he's dead." The crowd recoiled like a single, living organism. Gasps, screams and curses erupting from them. I couldn't move. My ears were ringing, but my heart was louder. "You've been partying,” Ghost sneered, "with a terrorist. A murderer." And that's when it all fell apart. Someone threw a glass. Another person screamed. A woman next to me shouted, "You lied to us!"

Hawke and Xander Hawke together said, “So what , we have not done anything to you so why have you brought us here.” Ghost snapped, “You think you can fool us? How dare you and your son threaten my father! Have you forgotten that Mr. Thornfield has a daughter? Her name is Elara Thornfield.” Mr. Hawke stammered, “What… what are you saying?” Ghost smirked. “Yes, you guessed right. I am Elara Thornfield. I am also a Ghost. And anyone who learns this secret has no right to live in this world.”

The way he had in the basement library, when he was trying to decide if he could trust me. "Ghost doesn't take money," he said. "He doesn't take favors. He takes pieces of people. Memories. Secrets. Things you can't get back." "Then we make sure we don't give him anything we can't afford to lose." --- The number on Miriam's card connected after two rings. A voice answered. Not male. Not female. Something in between. Processed through a modulator, scrambled beyond recognition. "You reached the line," the voice said. "State your business."

The air in the room changed with each new headline. “This just in—tragedy strikes the influential Holland family, as youngest son, werewolf James Holland, was found dead in his Houston penthouse. Authorities, both werewolf and human, are ruling it a suicide.” A photo flicked onto the screen, and I froze, my glass of wine halfway to my mouth. Turning slowly, my eyes narrowing into slits, I faced Ghost. “Hey, Ghost. Weren’t you just in Houston?” Meeting my stare with one of his own, he continued loudly slurping his noodles.

They both were watching him. "Why are we discussing that bitch right now? I bet she's long dead." Ghost said, sounding as nonchalant as he could. It was another way to find out if she was really dead too. "No, son. She's not dead." Don Carianno chuckled. "Not yet." Ghost was lowkey ecstatic and he wasn't sure why. It wasn't supposed to matter if she was fucking dead or not. But his heart seemed to have a mind of its own, getting giddy over the news.

"Miller! Report!" ​The glass doors didn't open. They shattered. ​A flash-bang grenade detonated inside the salon, a wall of white light and a thunderous roar that sent the guests screaming to the floor. Through the smoke and the ringing in their ears, the Ghost appeared. ​He didn't come in shooting. He came in like a shadow.

Her thoughts went to Celie and she wondered where her cousin was. The actor playing the Ember Ghost growled at the crew who ran in every direction before standing against the ship’s railings while looking at the dark specter. Then, the Ember Ghost went to each of the crew, pretending to hypnotize them using his hand and then sucking their blood until they fell limply to the deck. Afterwards, the Ember Ghost stood on a platform and rose his hands to the air while looking at the crowd. “I’m coming to get you!” he shouted, followed by rousing music that crescendoed as red lights flashed on the ship.