New Voices Vol 002 E-Book

S. H. Marpel

• Herausgeber: Midwest Journal Press
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Two Months of Published Short Stories in One Collected Volume Featuring original works by S. H. Marpel and J. R. Kruze This anthology contains: By S. H. Marpel: Ghost Hunters When Fireballs Collide Why Vampires Suck At Haunting The Haunted Ghost  Ghost Exterminators Inc. Two Ghost's Salvation 01-04 By J. R. Kruze The Autists Excerpt from "When Fireballs Collide":  AND THERE CAME ANOTHER ONE. BAM! Right against the car we were crouched behind. We were stuck behind a red subcompact, a recent American model.  Here at the Los Angeles Observatory parking lot. The night was clear, a very rare occurrence, very unusual for this city of smoke and fog. The stars above mirroring the endless street and building lights that marched out to their California coast. But a clear sky didn't help our situation any. Getting pummeled by red-orange fireballs behind this car couldn’t last forever. Especially since they smell of sulfur like a whole case of rotten eggs being broken at once. Big, really huge fireballs had been coming at us for something like 15 minutes. Heat and stench. Coming one right after the last one. The red car was shaking like it would never stop. It was going to need a paint job after this. If they could stand the smell to get it into the shop. Jude and Sal were there with me. Hunkered down like I was. At least I was in my blue jeans and work boots, gray sweatshirt. Sal was in her regular tailored beige suit with gold pinstripes, low-heeled dress shoes. An outfit more ideal for turning heads on Rodeo Drive instead of crouching on dirty asphalt and gravel in a remote parking lot. Jude was at least better off in her black jeans and a tailored black leather jacket, with her clunky black Timberland boots. (OK, she likes black. And looks good in it.) Admiring these two beauties wasn’t helping to get us out of this. “Hey, can’t we just teleport out of here?” I asked, behind my sweatshirt sleeve covering my nose.. “If we were able to concentrate. Not when they are coming a few seconds apart,” said Sal. “And it’s all I can do just to keep this car in one piece,” said Jude. “Wait, that explains how there was suddenly this car appearing on an empty parking lot.” I replied. “Just keep it quiet, so I can keep on keeping it there, in between those fireballs and us,” said Jude. “With that noise, I’m surprised we can think at all,” I added. “Wait. That’s it! It’s how we are thinking...” Sal said. At that, Sal suddenly stood straight up and walked out away from the red car. She shouted out, “Hey - you. Fireball Guy. Yeah, that’s you. Is that all you got? Really?” And the fireballs started coming right at her - all in a row and streaming right at her, twice as many than were coming at us before. But Sal just stood there. And the fireballs passed right through her. She flinched at the first ones, but after a few of them she just stood there. Straight, tall, defiant. And started laughing. Complete glee. I thought she’d lost it. But her actions gave Jude enough time to disappear the car and get us out of there. The scene shimmered, like usual. Fireballs, parking lot, all it just disappeared...

Leseprobe

New Visions 002

The Collected Short Stories

From Midwest Journal Press Authors Mar-Apr 2018

by S. H. Marpel, J. R. Kruze

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

NEW VOICES 002 - MAR-APR 2018

First edition. May 3, 2018.

Copyright © 2018 S. H. Marpel and J. R. Kruze.

ISBN: 978-1387788903

Written by S. H. Marpel and J. R. Kruze.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Stories by S. H. Marpel | Ghost Hunters

Why Vampires Suck At Haunting

When Fireballs Collide

The Haunted Ghost

Ghost Exterminators Inc.

Two Ghost’s Salvation

A Story by J. R. Kruze | The Autists

Further Reading: New Voices Vol 001 Jan-Feb 2018

Looking For More?

Stories by S. H. Marpel

Ghost Hunters

BY S. H. MARPEL

I

WELCOME TO THE WORLD of John Earl Stark. A wonder-filled world. Seriously.

It was another gloomy night and there I was, out on the pasture with dungarees stuffed into mudboots, arms and chest inside my chore jacket, and head covered by ball cap. Somewhere there had been a calf bawling and wouldn’t shut up enough to let me sleep. The tall grass and brush was making my walk tough. A stumble now and then. At least my feet were staying dry and warm. But the odd tree branch would catch my hat or whip my face from out of the dark.

I didn’t like tending cattle in the dark, but I’d forgotten any flashlight. My cedar staff in one of my leather-gloved hands was helping me find my way. The other was out in front to find those tree branches.

A thick root caught my boot, and my staff only helped slow my fall instead of keeping any balance.

Landing with my other hand out, and rolling to my shoulder kept my face out of the muddy ground. Knees were soaked through from cold mud instantly. And I was on my back where my long chore coat at least was keeping my butt and shoulders dry - for now.

So I rolled back over to knees and hands, using the staff to get myself back upright.

And saw the ghost.

Typical lightish form, almost like thick smoke that was holding together somehow.

“OK - who are you and what do you want?” I asked.

And a typical moan came back to me. This one wasn’t going to cooperate.

So I spoke again, “Look, you can talk. Use your English.”

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollst?ndigen Ausgabe!