My Wife Is A Ghost Exorciser Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Alexi? What are you talking about? I’m right here. This isn’t a dream or a hallucination. Are you alright?” “My wife is dead, and I’m talking to her ghost. No, I’m not alright.” I turned away from whatever that was and turned the treadmill all the way up. There was no way I was going to be any good to my sons if I was having visions of their dead mother. This had to stop. She reached over again and grabbed my face. Sparks. I felt them. How can a ghost make me feel these things? This was something only Alaia could do. “Alexi! Look at me.”

“And you think a fifty year old man wouldn’t look at you the wrong way if you’re found wearing inappropriate clothing.” “I don’t see him at all. He visits, cuts grass, and leaves. Besides, I’ve always dressed like this for bed, even when my brother Cale and dad were around.” “I’m not your brother, Emily-Mae, nor your father.” “…the saints of all the angels, I command you to reveal yourself...” the scene on the Conjuring movie blared on the screen. The woman on the chair spewing blood on the white sheet while the investigators tried to exorcise her.

Shivers ran in her back when she realised she'd just married a ghost. Her husband was no ordinary human, but a phantom. His falsehood that he was hiding from the enemy, everything was running in her brain. She felt a grief in her heart and her breath began to become heavy. It was difficult for her to breathe. She squeezed her breast with her right hand and put her left hand on the window to hold on a little. She started inhaling deeply to fill her lungs. She realised how he made her feel about her having a mental illness. She was hating herself for believing in him and loving him in her heart.

My wife, she said. The woman I was supposed to marry was Cassia Rowe. I remembered that much. She had blonde hair, a sharp jaw, and a sharp mouth. Very photogenic. Not this quite dark-haired ghost walking around mailing herbs on my face and feeding me soup like we were in a done goddamn historical drama. I kept thinking… maybe Grandmother hired her. Some live-in nurse with good manners and a tragic past. But the moment she said wife, it was like something uncoiled in me.

I was shocked to hear what he said, he turned to look at me looking really scared. “Who was seen?” I asked him curiously because the whole thing was beginning to scare me. Tristan was not replying me, it looks like the person is someone he didn’t expect to see again. The only way anyone can be like this because someone was seen is if it’s a ghost that was seen. “My ex wife.” I opened my eyes wider than normal and removed my hand from his hand. I don’t know why I did that but I was too shocked by the news I heard.

chuckled Tyler hugging his wife sideways, "Talking about you guys actually reminds me of us. Only that we didn't have anyone to ask for help. We figured it out together." They looked at each other smiling. "You are telling us that you guys fell in love afterward?" smirked Ryan sneaking a glance at us. "Yeah and I'm glad I did" Tyler grinned. A cute couple I must point out. "But how can you see Jimin, Mrs. Grace? Mr. Tyler can't" I asked curiously. "That's my gift," she mumbled, "More like a job now. I got it from my grandmom. I deal with ghosts, demons, spirits, the supernatural department".

Liam seemed to have thought of something, and he looked worried. “Elena is at home alone. You should tell her to be careful.” Jonathan’s face turned a little paler as if he just remembered how traumatic it had been in the past. “Don’t worry. Troublemakers always live longer than anyone else, so Elena will be safe. “Also, she’s a famous criminologist and our best forensic scientist. No one can possibly hurt her.” Even though I was only a ghost, I felt a sharp ache in my heart. Jonathan’s phone rang. I looked at it. It was Yvonne calling.

To settle my family's debt, I was forced to marry the comatose heir of a mafia family. On our wedding night, as I washed his body, a low, lazy chuckle echoed in my ear. "Enjoying the view?" I glanced up, meeting the gaze of my comatose husband's ghost. "He'll do." While everyone was pitying my fate as a young widow, I was striking a deal with my new husband's ghost. "Sign it. Now."

"I don't know. The spell should've worked so why did this new ghost show up?" I flop back on my bed, resting my forearm on my forehead. "Because he says I'm his wife-or was in another life." "Wait," her head snaps in my direction, "they both say you're connected to them from a past life?" "Yup." I take my arm off my head and look over at her. She's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and a really bad sensation like I am sinking through the floor hits me. "What?" I ask, not able to stand the silence anymore.

"Miss Sasha, forgive me for lying to you for the first time, but I did all this for you." ***San Diego Province Building A008 came from Adam's voice. "Smack!" "Slut, I said that Imelda's illness is getting worse and worse; it turns out that you are the ghost behind your back!" "I'm just such a son, how dare you? How dare you! A middle-aged woman with yellow hair was knocked to the ground, covering half of her face and covered in bruises. This woman is none other than Adam's wife Ivy. Some time ago, Adam's son Imelda suddenly fell ill.