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First Contact by Kat Green

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  • Haunts for Sale Series

    Sloane Osborne is a paranormal realtor in the business of selling haunted houses but, in truth, she’s only searching for one ghost. And her time is running out. It’s the 366th day after her fiancé’s death. Michael used to like putting things off for “a year and a day”—so tonight’s the night. Sloane will do anything to make contact with him before the clock strikes midnight. When she gets a call to check out a home in Waukesha, Wisconsin, it’s the last place she thinks Michael would contact her. Sloane is dead wrong.

    Rating: Spicy
    Page Count: 180
    Word Count: 44905
    978-1-5092-0783-1 Paperback
    978-1-5092-0784-8 Digital

    Excerpt

    The woman held out her hand to catch a drop of water as it fell from a crack in the ceiling. The water passed right through her palm, splattering on the damp floor.

    “Hello?” Sloane’s voice was tentative, even to her own ears. It was one thing to talk to Michael, but he was a ghost she’d known in life. It was another thing to start a conversation with a dead stranger. “Can you hear me?”

    The woman didn’t turn, her whole body focused on the next drop of water until it had floated through her hand again.

    The woman sighed, sitting back on her heels as she watched the wall.

    “Water,” she rasped. “Do you have any water?”

    “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything.” Sloane said. “I tried to give you water last night, but no one drank it.”

    “What are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to be here.” The woman’s voice was so raspy Sloane could barely hear her. She turned her head slowly as though tearing her gaze from the little bit of water seeping through the stone was painful. When her gaze finally rested on Sloane, her eyes were dark black pits, swirling with tiny dancing lights.

    Sloane stepped back involuntarily, then gathered her courage to approach the apparition. She could sense the poor girl wasn’t dangerous. She was trapped here as much as Sloane was herself.

    “I found the secret door and got pushed in.” Sloane said. “Then the door shut behind me and I couldn’t get out.”

    “Ah, you must have been at Alvin’s house.” The woman rose to her feet. “Not a safe place to be. Though nothing about this area is safe.”

    “You knew Alvin?” Sloane asked.

    The look the woman gave Sloane was laughable. “Do you think I’d be down here if I hadn’t? I knew him better than anyone. That’s why I was never in the hole. Doesn’t make much difference. Hole or tunnel, you still die.”

    “What do you mean you knew Alvin better than anyone?” Sloane asked.

    “My name is Lillian. Alvin’s my brother.”

    “No way.” Sloane slumped against the wall, staring at the apparition. The ghost began to flicker slightly as if she were fading. “Your own brother killed you?”

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