Ghosted Book Review Novels & Stories

But your mother's about to die—I know you'll show up. Her words jolted me back to reality. I pressed a hand to my chest, where my heart ached with a dull, numbing pain. How I wished I could tell her myself. That I've been here all along. It's just that... I've been dead for four years.

His books told me otherwise. I didn’t break my rhythm, stacking, straightening, dusting as though nothing at all had caught my attention. But the pattern was set, and I never ignored patterns. Three days in a row. Three books building a trail into shadows. And I was already following. ~~~~~~ The fourth day. He returned. No glasses slipping down as he read this time. No quiet hours spent in the chair by the window. He walked straight to the shelves, ran his hand along the spines, and pulled out a book without lingering. Chasing a Ghost No One Can See.

" My vision started to blur as the flames on the cruise ship, the charred bodies, and the pitch-black sea faded away. Everything dissolved like a washed-out oil painting. … I found myself standing in a pure white space, with the cold system interface floating in front of me. It displayed, [Congratulations, Player 66, on your final victory. Withdrawable amount: 10,098,800,000.] I stared at the number, and fragments of memory surfaced in my mind. A luxurious but terrifyingly empty mansion, covered in mess and sealed with official notices. Dad aged decades overnight, and he sat slumped on the only old couch that had not been taken.

It was displayed. My chest tightened as I lifted it with a gloved hand. The scent hit immediately, chemical, sharp, layered with something metallic underneath. Chlorine and cold steel. A smell I had not encountered in years but recognized all the same. It was the same ghost note that had clung to the air the night my parents died. This was not chaos. It was not a fight gone wrong or a rogue passing through. This was intent. Someone had gotten close enough to Owen to inject him, or had taken him elsewhere and left this behind as a message. Either option required control, preparation, and knowledge of what we were.

' Ghost replies and I feel him take over at once. A few minutes later, I arrived in front of a door and opened it, and Ghost's ability to turn me into a "ghost" was undone. ************* Note: Don't forget to like, comment and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform

He drove with purpose, and I, like a phantom shadow, drifted along in his wake. I followed him as he made his rounds in a department store, buying things he had never once considered buying for me. It wasn't hard to see the distinction between love and indifference. My ghostly form seemed to grow heavier with every step, weighted down by the bitterness of seeing the man I had loved so deeply pamper another woman so thoroughly.

“Some ghosts don’t haunt you with screams. They haunt you with resemblance.” Leora stared at the violet. Pressed flat. Fragile. Dry as ash. And yet somehow, alive. Like it had been waiting—not just in this room, but across time. Across silence. Like it had known she’d return. That eventually, she’d come back here, open the book, and see it. Not as a flower. But as a message. A trace. A warning. A ghost trapped between pages.

Something waiting. --- Determined not to be paralyzed by fear, I returned to the antique bookstore — to the stories, the secrets, the fragments of forgotten women. The elderly owner greeted me with a knowing smile. “You’re searching for answers,” he said quietly. I nodded. He handed me a leather-bound tome, its cover worn but strong — *Reflections of the Forgotten*. “Read carefully,” he advised. “Sometimes the past speaks through shadows.” --- I spent the night poring over its pages. The book told of women trapped in illusions, caught between worlds — ghosts of themselves, struggling to reclaim their true identities.

It took her a while before she finally realized he was actually staring at the book. Fear overwhelmed her. The way he stared at the book made her shake. The bold inscriptions on the book could sell her out. Ghista was written on it. No wonder there was a wrapping paper kept close to it, but she chose to ignore it and read the book without it since nobody knew anything about Ghista. With the look he had on, something was definitely computing in his mind.

A gasp of shock escaped me as the flames retracted and I could have a better look at the Bloody General. ** You can read Alev's book (The Golden Dragon's Surrogate) for f.ree on Kindl.e unlimited. For more information, join my group: T. R. Durant's Realm of Light and Fire