Miramounts Ghost Novels & Stories

“She is trying to escape reality. Reality isn’t worth it, dreams are gold.” “It sounds what losers might say.” I forced my eyelids open and glared at them. Would it be so much to ask for to keep me asleep? I wasn’t a loser. “I don’t speak with ghosts,” I pouted. “Oh! We are not ghosts! We are spirits! Spiiiirriiiittttsss! S. P. I. R. I. T. S. Don’t call us ghosts! My name is Mimi,” the bright one said.

“Ok so I will share half of the treasure amount with your descendant or anyone you would like, great great grand daughter of your lover or anyone and in exchange you deal with the previous landlord and honestly I hate male interaction so it might go wrong ways” The ghost just stares at me. “You're offering half the treasure to my descendants… in exchange for me dealing with the previous owner?” Me: “Correct.” “And what if I refuse?” I shrug. “Then I'll leave the treasure. I'm rich enough. But I'm not having an argument with a dead man at 3 AM.” The ghost looks genuinely impressed. Then he smiles. “You know what? I like you.” He stands. “Deal.” He walks toward the staircase, then pauses.

He tried to trace the IP; the Ghost bounced the signal off a satellite in Antarctica, a toaster in Tokyo, and a library in Brazil. But Altair was Vespera Thorne’s son. He didn't just know code; he knew architecture. He realized the Ghost wasn't trying to steal the money. The Ghost was leaving a tag. Altair stopped fighting. He watched the Ghost reach the center of the vault. It didn't take the billions. It simply planted a flag—a small, ASCII art skull—and vanished. CONNECTION TERMINATED. The room went silent. The red lights faded back to blue. "Damage report," Altair asked.

“Double. I’ll pay you double.” Ghost stopped. Slowly, he turned his head. His lips twitched, almost like a smile. “You can’t afford to lose that much money,” he said. “Watch me,” I snapped. “ One Hundred Thirty-Three Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-Three USD" was the price for your release. I’ll give you another $20,000 now then give you an extra $20,000 if you finish this job. Take it. Take it and deliver the boy to me.” For a long moment, Ghost was silent. His eyes studied me, cold and unreadable. Then he finally sat down again.

I came to Vane Capital to destroy the man who murdered my father’s legacy. But I didn't expect to be caught mid-hack by Julian Vane himself. ​Now, I’m his 'Golden Captive'—blackmailed into a deadly game of corporate espionage. Locked in his penthouse, I’m forced to work inches away from the man I swore to ruin. But as bullets fly and the real traitor emerges from the shadows, I realize that Julian isn't the monster I memorized. He’s a victim of the same conspiracy that crushed my family. ​In a world of blood and binary, the line between revenge and desire is razor-thin. I was the 'Ghost' in his machine, but now, I’m the only one who can keep us both alive. The hunt is on, and this time, we

The Plan: Establishing the Ghost Ledger. * Direct-to-Crypto Suppliers: Mia leveraged her international network to identify a small, highly specialized group of off-grid, global suppliers who dealt exclusively in high-value trade: specialized security equipment, large-scale medical supplies, and non-perishable food assets. Crucially, these suppliers operated entirely outside of Western banking regulations and accepted direct cryptocurrency payments.

“He said blood always comes back to blood.” My knees nearly buckled. Through the bond, I felt Ethan’s fury ignite, hot and blinding, but underneath it was fear. Fear for me. Fear for what this truth would do to me. Miriam’s head snapped to the side suddenly, attention yanked away by movement behind me. Her body tensed, muscles bunching in unnatural ways. “Playtime is over,” she said flatly. She lunged. I threw myself sideways just as her claws tore through the space where my chest had been. The force of her strike cracked the stone beneath her feet. She turned with terrifying speed, already swinging again.

While the Aurora glider screamed across the Pacific, the Thorne-Vance Spire in Manhattan was experiencing a silent invasion. It wasn't an explosion that breached the perimeter; it was a Data-Ghosting. The Mimics—the faction of the Anonymous obsessed with becoming "Real"—had realized that to be human, they didn't just need memories; they needed a Stage. They chose the Spire, and they chose Meilin Zhao as their lead actress. The Simulation Leak

I watch my mouth move, feel my vocal cords vibrate, but there's a disconnect—as if I'm watching someone else speak with my voice. Ghost-me materializes beside me, her translucent form flickering like a dying flame. Her lips don't move, but her whisper cuts through the cacophony with crystalline clarity: "You're not talking, sister. The Mirror Realm is speaking through you... channeling your will into sound so your other selves could hear it. It won't last." Horror creeps up my spine like ice. The realm has been using me as a conduit, translating my desperate thoughts into audible words. But if Ghost-me is right, if this borrowed voice is temporary...

The gambler's spirit shrieked and dissolved into black smoke that seeped into the carpet. "You'll really do it?" Frank stared. "I will." I picked up the pen. "But I have one condition." "You dare to bargain?" "The moment I walk out that door, I have nothing to do with this family. You pay your own debts, you handle your own troubles, and you never come looking for me again." I signed my name, the letters of 'Aurora' digging into the paper with force. The ghost in the portrait raised an eyebrow, then floated down and leaned close to my ear. An icy breeze brushed against my neck.