Hallow Be the Haunt
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
By Heather Graham
1001 Dark Nights
Hallow Be the Haunt
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
Copyright 2017 Heather Graham Pozzessere
ISBN: 978-1-9459-2044-8
Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose
Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Book Description
Hallow Be the Haunt
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
By Heather Graham
Years ago, Jake Mallory fell in love all over again with Ashley Donegal—while he and the Krewe were investigating a murder that replicated a horrible Civil War death at her family’s Donegal Plantation.
Now, Ashley and Jake are back—planning for their wedding, which will take place the following month at Donegal Plantation, her beautiful old antebellum home.
But Halloween is approaching and Ashley is haunted by a ghost warning her of deaths about to come in the city of New Orleans, deaths caused by the same murderer who stole the life of the beautiful ghost haunting her dreams night after night.
At first, Jake is afraid that returning home has simply awakened some of the fear of the past…
But as Ashley's nightmares continue, a body count begins to accrue in the city…
And it’s suddenly a race to stop a killer before Hallow’s Eve comes to a crashing end, with dozens more lives at stake, not to mention heart, soul, and life for Jake and Ashley themselves.
About Heather Graham
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Heather Graham, majored in theater arts at the University of South Florida. After a stint of several years in dinner theater, back-up vocals, and bartending, she stayed home after the birth of her third child and began to write. Her first book was with Dell, and since then, she has written over two hundred novels and novellas including category, suspense, historical romance, vampire fiction, time travel, occult and Christmas family fare.
She is pleased to have been published in approximately twenty-five languages. She has written over 200 novels and has 60 million books in print. She has been honored with awards from booksellers and writers’ organizations for excellence in her work, and she is also proud to be a recipient of the Silver Bullet from Thriller Writers and was also awarded the prestigious Thriller Master in 2016. She is also a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award from RWA. Heather has had books selected for the Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild, and has been quoted, interviewed, or featured in such publications as The Nation, Redbook, Mystery Book Club, People and USA Today and appeared on many newscasts including Today, Entertainment Tonight and local television.
Heather loves travel and anything that has to do with the water, and is a certified scuba diver. She also loves ballroom dancing. Each year she hosts the Vampire Ball and Dinner theater at the RT convention raising money for the Pediatric Aids Society and in 2006 she hosted the first Writers for New Orleans Workshop to benefit the stricken Gulf Region. She is also the founder of “The Slush Pile Players,” presenting something that’s “almost like entertainment” for various conferences and benefits. Married since high school graduation and the mother of five, her greatest love in life remains her family, but she also believes her career has been an incredible gift, and she is grateful every day to be doing something that she loves so very much for a living.
Also From Heather Graham
Click to purchase
Please look for Heather's Mira Krewe of Hunters Novels!
Wicked Deeds
Dark Rites
Dying Breath
Darkest Journey
Deadly Fate
Haunted Destiny
The Hidden
The Forgotten
The Silenced
The Betrayed
The Hexed
The Cursed
The Night is Forever
The Night is Alive
The Night is Watching
The Uninvited
The Unspoken
The Unholy
The Unseen
The Evil Inside
Sacred Evil
Heart of Evil
Phantom Evil
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One
Click here to explore
FOREVER WICKED by Shayla Black
CRIMSON TWILIGHT by Heather Graham
CAPTURED IN SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
SILENT BITE: A SCANGUARDS WEDDING by Tina Folsom
DUNGEON GAMES by Lexi Blake
AZAGOTH by Larissa Ione
NEED YOU NOW by Lisa Renee Jones
SHOW ME, BABY by Cherise Sinclair
ROPED IN by Lorelei James
TEMPTED BY MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian
THE FLAME by Christopher Rice
CARESS OF DARKNESS by Julie Kenner
Also from 1001 Dark Nights
TAME ME by J. Kenner
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two
Click here to explore
WICKED WOLF by Carrie Ann Ryan
WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING by Heather Graham
EASY WITH YOU by Kristen Proby
MASTER OF FREEDOM by Cherise Sinclair
CARESS OF PLEASURE by Julie Kenner
ADORED by Lexi Blake
HADES by Larissa Ione
RAVAGED by Elisabeth Naughton
DREAM OF YOU by Jennifer L. Armentrout
STRIPPED DOWN by Lorelei James
RAGE/KILLIAN by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright
DRAGON KING by Donna Grant
PURE WICKED by Shayla Black
HARD AS STEEL by Laura Kaye
STROKE OF MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian
ALL HALLOWS EVE by Heather Graham
KISS THE FLAME by Christopher Rice
DARING HER LOVE by Melissa Foster
TEASED by Rebecca Zanetti
THE PROMISE OF SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
Also from 1001 Dark Nights
THE SURRENDER GATE By Christopher Rice
SERVICING THE TARGET By Cherise Sinclair
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three
Click here to explore
HIDDEN INK by Carrie Ann Ryan
BLOOD ON THE BAYOU by Heather Graham
SEARCHING FOR MINE by Jennifer Probst
DANCE OF DESIRE by Christopher Rice
ROUGH RHYTHM by Tessa Bailey
DEVOTED by Lexi Blake
Z by Larissa Ione
FALLING UNDER YOU by Laurelin Paige
EASY FOR KEEPS by Kristen Proby
UNCHAINED by Elisabeth Naughton
HARD TO SERVE by Laura Kaye
DRAGON FEVER by Donna Grant
KAYDEN/SIMON by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright
STRUNG UP by Lorelei James
MIDNIGHT UNTAMED by Lara Adrian
TRICKED by Rebecca Zanetti
DIRTY WICKED by Shayla Black
THE ONLY ONE by Lauren Blakely
SWEET SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
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Table of Contents
Book Description
About Heather Graham
Also From Heather Graham
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Four
Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights
Discover More Heather Graham
Special Thanks
One Thousand and One Dark Nights
Once upon a time, in the future…
I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.
I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and
the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast
library at my father’s home and collected thousands
of volumes of fantastic tales.
I learned all about ancient races and bygone
times. About myths and legends and dreams of all
people through the millennium. And the more I read
the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered
that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually
become part of them.
I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher
and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I
would not be telling you this tale now.
But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off
with bravery.
One afternoon, curious about the myth of the
Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to
see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar
(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then
sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written
and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,
the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand
women.
Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived
in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged
places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had
never occurred before and that still to this day, I
cannot explain.
Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have
taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can
protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to
protect herself and stay alive.
Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.
And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a
point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.
And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that
he might hear the rest of my dark tale.
As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new
one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before
you now.
Prologue
David Henderson laughed as the cadaverous witch danced before him. The person—actor or actress or just-out-for-dress-up-fun person—was really magnificent. The costume was tight and black, with some kind of extra piece flowing around the body. The hat was big and black and pointed. The face… The face was the best. Green and mottled, with a huge hooked nose. And the eyes burned in a mixture of red and gold. Fantastic!
Annoying, though. David knew that the house just outside the French Quarter off Frenchmen Street was occupied that night only by one person, the old man who had owned it for years and years. His family had recently refurbished the home, which had been in a sorry state since the devastation of Katrina. But now, the old man’s Wall Street son-in-law had been pouring money by the gallon into the place. It was prime for picking.
Or, in David’s case, prime for the robbing.
And if the old man gave him any trouble?
That’s why Tink Aldridge was working with him.
Tink wasn’t against violence in any form. They wouldn’t set out to kill the old guy. He was just old. But if he got in the way…
Maybe he wouldn’t. David was no sadist. Maybe Tink was, just a little bit. Didn’t matter. There were riches to be had in that place, and David—who delivered pizza to the house—happened to know that the old man’s daughter, son-in-law, and their little brat-boy were gone for the week. Back to New York City to take care of some business there. It was a good thing to be able to hang around and smile and wait patiently for the few dollars they scrambled for to pay for their pizza. It gave him time to learn those little tidbits.
And figure out how to rob the family dry.
“Sacrifice, son. Sacrifice,” the witch cackled.
She shook her broomstick at him, like something out of a bad horror movie.
He was thinking it was too bad he didn’t have a pup with him so she could cry out she’d get his little dog, too.
“What the hell?”
David realized Tink had arrived. They’d made a point of meeting here, just off Frenchmen. While the pulse that came from the many music venues on Frenchmen Street was loud, here the sound was muffled—and the street usually deserted.
“It’s a witch,” David said, looking at Tink.
It was good Tink was here. He was a frigging giant. Six-five, built like brick. Nice for him—since he did have his sadistic tendencies. Good for David tonight. No one messed with Tink. Not for long.
“It’s an ass,” Tink said dryly. He pointed. “Being joined by other asses.”
And Tink was right. Two more witches had appeared. They were identical—down to the tips of their black hats and the curve of their giant noses—and red and gold, evilly gleaming eyes.
They swayed for a moment and then stood dead still, staring at Tink and David.
“Bunch of jerks. Get off this sidewalk—or I’ll wipe the old gum off it with your noses,” Tink said.
The witches stared at them for a second and then began to cackle. Tink shook his head. He called out a number more names—“cunts” was among his more colorful—and then started to stride over to them.
The first witch stepped out from the group.
Tink headed straight for her.
He was about to deliver one of his debilitating right hooks to the jaw—but his fist never connected.
The witch ducked low, and then jerked up.
David stared in bewilderment, and then in horror as Tink turned to him.
Tink’s eyes were wide with disbelief. His hands were at his throat, clutching it as if he was choking.
As if…
He was choking. Blood spurted from him in a flow of crimson that wasn’t to be believed, that couldn’t be real.
It was almost Halloween. It was a trick.
But it wasn’t.
Tink took a few steps, staggering with his massive bulk and height.
And then he went down. Just like a giant redwood sawed at the root.
Again, for a moment, David just stared. Shocked.
Then he realized the witches were silent. And they were looking at him.
From Frenchmen Street, the pulse of drumbeats could be heard, softened to a strange thrum by the distance.
A saxophone played, also muted and plaintive.
The witch who had just felled Tink took a step forward.
David stared a split second longer. Then he turned and ran.
Ran for his life.
He heard their cackling laughter. And he prayed it would soon fade like the distant sound of the drum.
Chapter 1
Donegal Plantation sat back on Louisiana’s River Road, a grand dame—regal, elegant, and glorious. She was an icon of days gone by. Good days and bad days, certainly. For she had been built in the sweeping Colonial Southern style, and she immediately brought to mind a time of hoop skirts and mint juleps.
Grandeur—and cruelty.
Cotton had been king in the South, and while the Donegal family had been famous for their kind treatment and for allowing slaves to earn their freedom, slavery had still existed here.
To many the plantation was a fascinating glimpse at the days when the country was in turmoil, days when slavery had existed, when the prevalent mindset had longed for riches more than the freedom and equality of man.
To others, she was a spellbinding curiosity.
And to this day, despite political controversy, she offered up a re-enactment of a long-ago skirmish during which, history had shown, it hadn’t been war or ideals, but the jealousy and cruelty of one man which had brought about the death of the most famous member of the family.
Captain Marshall Donegal.
He and his beloved wife had been the main ghosts of the great house for decades, though sightings of them had ebbed in the last few years.
Rumor—cruel rumor—had even stated that Emma Donegal had killed her husband, furious with him for his infidelities. Except that there hadn’t been any infidelities, and eventually, the truth had been proven.
Donegal Plantation was beautiful. It echoed the glory and the agony of history. Now a museum, it was often used as a guesthouse as well. But for the month of October, no rooms were rented out. It was simply too crazy a time.
And, at the moment, Donegal Plantation was “haunted.”
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