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Josie's Wraith: In Between Tales, #4
Josie's Wraith: In Between Tales, #4
Josie's Wraith: In Between Tales, #4
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Josie's Wraith: In Between Tales, #4

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Josie Harper has been stuck in the In Between since her death, a ghostly purgatory filled with dark shadows, malevolent entities bent on murder, tragic spirits doomed to relive their own death over and over, and even an unknown but seemingly helpful greater power, but she's never been the target of evil herself ... until now. 

In the midst of growing her newfound telekinetic powers, and searching for the next lost soul in need of salvation, Josie inadvertently draws something to her, something filled with a deep, timeless evil capable of ruining lives with just a thought, and beyond anything Josie can manage herself. 

An unexpected friend and an ancient book may be all that stands between Josie and the wraith bent on destroying her.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJess Reece
Release dateMar 6, 2017
ISBN9781540111050
Josie's Wraith: In Between Tales, #4
Author

Jess Reece

Jess Reece was practically born with a pen in her hand. She wrote her first story, about a dog taking a ride on an alien spaceship to the moon, at four years old. As a teenager and young adult, she won various local writing awards for her poetry and short fiction. Jessica's goal is to draw her readers into worlds that are as real to them as they are to her, and have them fall in love with the characters that they get to know. She also writes nonfiction, using her skills to mentor adult survivors of childhood abuse and trauma - healing that pain, sometimes decades old, through creative writing and storytelling. Jessica also paints and designs her book covers, as well as finds time to relax with her husband, daughter, and motley crew of rescue animals.

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    Book preview

    Josie's Wraith - Jess Reece

    Contents

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 1

    Charlatans! Charlatans and con-men, that’s all they were, I thought, slamming the laptop shut and pushing away from the table. I stretched the kink between my shoulders, and heaved a disappointed sigh. Not even the tempting aroma of fresh coffee in the carafe on the counter behind me helped my foul mood.

    I’d lost count of how many days had passed since I’d helped put Natalie Kuntz, the Phantom of Maple Valley Highway, to rest. It had been weeks since I had outwitted the twisted ghost of a local billionaire— the poor man had died trying to defeat the cancer eating him from the inside out, and as a result, doomed his spirit to an evil shadow of its former self. And yet, here I was, for the umpteenth time, trying to research how to get myself across the great divide between the living and the dead.

    The number of psychics, medium, ghost-whisperers, and so-called spiritualists that had set up shop around the greater Seattle area was shocking. According to the many, many, oh so many, advertisements and web pages I’d browsed for the last several days, they were all experts in reaching loved ones trapped on the wrong side of death. But not one of their flashy ads, sensitive and comforting tag lines, or busy websites mentioned purgatory.

    It might have surprised someone that, as a ghost myself, I would have access to such things as the World Wide Web, but frankly I’d given up trying to make sense of this place a long time ago. It was just one of those things that I did, my own real-life deus ex machina, if you will. As a formerly living author, I was bitterly irritated that such a thing existed. But as a ghost trying to escape this weird in between that I called home, and finally cross over to the other side, I was grateful for the assistance.

    Previously, to do my research, I had to use Seattle Metro buses to get me downtown to the main branch of the Seattle Public Library. After the adventure with Natalie, a laptop had appeared at my favorite coffee shop and home, the In-Bean-Tween cafe. It was a cheeky name, it was true, but so were most of the names of cafes in the Pacific Northwest, especially Seattle, where the worship of coffee was more art than science. This laptop was connected, via magical purgatory wireless, to all the information I could want or need.

    That is, except for how to leave.

    My drive, no, need, to get away from this place had grown from a pesky curiosity to a heavy, anxiety filled urgency. Each day that passed added to the already unbearable weight pressing down upon me the way great, stacked cumulonimbus clouds of a summer storm weighed heavy upon the parched earth. My helpful wireless connection taught me the name of those clouds, I frowned, but couldn’t help me find a way to move on.

    If I was honest with myself, honest deep down in my soul, I would admit that I was terribly disappointed that I hadn’t crossed over after Natalie. Surely helping such a tortured spirit was enough to cleanse someone’s karma, or wipe the slate clean, or whatever it was that was supposed to happen when you made up for your misdeeds? At least that is what I had hoped. Obviously, I had been wrong.

    That was the hardest part of all of this—I wasn’t a bad person in life. I never hurt anyone, not out of malice anyway, I didn’t steal, I didn’t do anything that seemed to warrant a sentence in purgatory. It’s true that I was a selfish person, but it seemed remarkably unfair that got me stuck here.

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