Diary of a Part Time Ghost (Ghosts & Shadows Book 1)

by Vered Ehsani

  I began to nod my head in agreement, my eyelids drooping heavily. I should stay out of trouble. This was trouble. The book was trouble. I had my own life to live. Why should I get involved in things that were obviously so much bigger than I was? What was I thinking? What difference could I make? How did Kali know my thoughts and fears? It didn’t matter now.

  “Don’t give up!” Sara blurted out, and then shouted briefly in alarm as she was tossed onto the sofa beside Samuel.

  “Open the veil.”

  I nodded my head again. Yes, that was a good idea. Open the veil. Go home. I gazed over at the Connel family, who were all staring at me in disbelief and panic. Sara was shaking her head and mouthing something.

  “Ashish, open the veil.”

  My gaze drifted upward, to the mirror behind the sofa. The frame was quite stunning. Something glittered in the reflection. A weak ray of sunlight sparkled briefly on its surface, shining in my eyes, and then faded away. Its glimmer, however, stirred up some energy in me.

  Don’t let him touch you, the veil, or the book.

  I remembered the words, but not the reason for them. I glanced briefly at Kali, and saw, behind the handsome smile, visions of destruction and fires of hate. I glanced at the Connel family and saw, behind their fear, their love for each other.

  I began to open the veil and saw its shimmering surface behind the sofa and the Connels. It floated gracefully in front of the mirror. I heard Kali’s chuckle of glee and felt the man’s claw-like fingers dig into my arm. I allowed the man to lead me around the sofa.

  “Ash!” Sara pleaded in a squeaky voice. “Don’t trust him!”

  The veil shifted slightly, briefly fading and then condensing. In his eagerness, Kali hurried forward, momentarily loosening his grip on me. Just as the man slapped his hand sharply against the reflection of the veil in the mirror, I pulled away. I jumped over the sofa and threw one arm around the necks of Samuel and Mr. Connel while grabbing Sara’s hand. Just as Kali realized he had been tricked, I jerked my torso toward the misty curtain that now floated in front of the sofa.

  As the veil sucked us in, I glanced back to see Kali leap like a wild cat toward us, but by then we were hurtling into my bedroom, and the veil vanished, with only an echo of a furious scream reaching us. Before my stunned friends could gain consciousness again, I flipped the page of the Book of History and saw with relief a painting of the one safe place I could imagine in that time. My thoughts focused on it, and I slammed my hand down. A breath later, we collapsed in a pile of fresh snow near the edge of the village of the Kanien'keháka.

  Chapter 20

  Mr. Connel was still tied up and he slid down the snowy mound like a sled. Sara landed face first, and the shock of the cold immediately woke her up; hastily, she pushed herself upright. I could tell she was trying to be all dignified, but that’s kind of hard to do when your mouth and nose are stuffed with snow. I grabbed a hold of Samuel before he skidded away. He woke up as his bare feet slipped into the snow, and he began shouting in alarm, thrashing about in a vain attempt to loosen the rope that bound him.

  “Samuel, for heaven’s sake, put a stop to that racket,” Sara grumbled, trying to sound irritated even though she was grinning with relief.

  “No!” he exclaimed belligerently. “I will not!” Then he paused. “Oh. Hello, East Wind.”

  We all looked up to see several Mohawk villagers walking hesitantly toward us. None of them had seen the Connel family and me materialize out of thin air above the mound of snow (probably a good thing), but they had certainly heard our sudden and noisy appearance. East Wind maintained his serious expression—I think that’s a permanent feature of his character—but he glanced at me and raised his eyebrows.

  “We went back there, didn’t we? Do you think anyone else saw the angel?” Sara whispered as she tried to untie her groggy father.

  “No, I don’t think they saw anything,” I replied dryly, “but our friends here certainly heard us.”

  A moment later, Mr. Connel and Samuel were untied. Laughing and crying, they hugged each other and Sara, and then me and East Wind and anyone else within arm’s reach.

  “Thank you, Ash!” Sara gushed while trying to hug me yet again.

  “Yes, indeed,” Mr. Connel enthused. “But what exactly happened back there? Who was that man? How did we …”

  “Ash is a ghost!” Samuel announced emphatically.

  “And he has an angel for a friend!” Sara added.

  Everyone who understood English laughed, except East Wind, who again gave me a knowing look and then a quick smile. That was a big reaction from him.

  “Well, angels and ghosts aside,” Mr. Connel finally said, “I am very grateful, whatever you did, and I’m looking forward to hearing more.”

  “It’s a little difficult to explain,” I said. I think I may have blushed as everyone waited for me to continue. Just then, I heard someone calling my name as if from a distance. I couldn’t tell whose voice it was that echoed through the forest all around us, but I knew what it meant. My time was rapidly coming to an end.

  Trying not to look too distracted, I cleared my throat and continued, “Perhaps another time. I need to go right now.” I stared at Sara meaningfully and then turned to shake East Wind’s hand.

  Sara understood the message. “Right, of course you do. Well, I’ll see you to the, ah … beginning of the path then.”

  “Thank you again!” Mr. Connel said. “We’ll be seeing you shortly, I hope?”

  Unsure how to respond, I pretended not to hear so I wouldn’t have to lie. After another brief word of good-bye to a somber-looking East Wind, I walked around the outskirts of the village and toward the entrance of the forest path, with Sara at my side.

  “You’re not coming back, are you?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t know, Sara. Maybe. I mean, I want to come back.” I glanced away as I saw tears form in Sara’s eyes, but when I looked again, her expression was determinedly stoic.

  “Right, then,” she said briskly. “Thank you, Ash, for everything. Take care. Maybe someday we’ll meet again. And if not …” She hesitated, and then continued in a shaking voice. “Well, I won’t forget you, not ever.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I responded, trying to keep my voice steady. “Remember what I told you. Get as far away as possible. Don’t go back to Boston.”

  We shook hands, and then I marched quickly through the snow, until the village was hidden by trees. A chill breeze cut at my face, and I shivered. Alone, I breathed in snow-scented air, and then with a final look at the eighteenth century, I drifted on the breeze and into the veil.

  As soon as I entered, I saw Mir, floating cross-legged and gazing out at my bedroom. Seeing her reminded me of my question about the dog bite, but instead I surprised myself by asking another of my (many) unanswered questions: “Who is she?”

  Mir turned to look at me. “Which one?”

  “The girl who keeps appearing in my house!”

  “Oh. Her,” Mir finally spoke in a flat tone after a lengthy pause. She studied me with a strange and knowing look, and then replied slowly with a shake of her head, “No, not yet.”

  “Why not?” The veil began to quiver and fade. I paused and struggled to control my irritation.

  Mir hesitated before carefully replying, “Right now you have other, more pressing problems to worry about, Ash.”

  “Like what?” I demanded, preparing to argue with her.

  “Like surviving,” she retorted. That shut me up. “Kali won’t stop. And his reflection is alive and well on this side. It will find you sooner or later. Bibi can’t distract it much longer. As for the girl, I’m sure you’ll meet her. Eventually.”

  I stared at her, frustrated, but I knew it was useless to argue. I took a deep breath (actually, a few) and then suddenly I became calm. “I’m not going to sit on the fence, waiting. I’m sick and tired of not knowing what’s really going on. I’m going to search for the answers, and I won’t stop until
I find them.”

  I thought I sounded pretty impressive and intimidating. I might not be single-handedly saving the world from the army of darkness, but I was holding my own.

  Mir just beamed a radiant smile at me. “Excellent! I’m so glad to hear that. You will need a lot of patience.”

  “I can be patient,” I said hesitatingly, not sounding quite so impressive and intimidating and world-saving.

  “And determined.”

  “I’m determined,” I stated with more confidence. “The book …”

  “Is not important,” Mir interrupted softly but firmly. “Its powers are only as great as your spirit. And, as you have learned, your spirit can only reflect what you focus on.”

  I nodded just as Shanti’s voice echoed around me. The veil shimmered, and I knew it was time to leave. As I shifted toward my room, I called over my shoulder to Mir, “When can I come back?”

  “When it is time.”

  With a resigned sigh, I left the veil and closed the book. “I guess this is where the patience part comes in,” I muttered aloud.

  Yeah, I’m still talking to myself. I’ll add it to my list of mental notes to worry about one day. But the way I see it, I have more urgent tasks while I wait: Get off the fence. Focus on the light. And then there’s my personal favorite: Survive.

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  Cheers until next time

  Vered

  from Africa… with a Bite

  All of my books can be found on Amazon:

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  Armed with Victorian etiquette, a fully loaded walking stick and a dead husband, Beatrice Knight arrives in colonial Kenya desperate for a pot of tea and a pinch of cinnamon. But she’ll need more than that if she’s to unravel the mystery of the Ghosts of Tsavo without being eaten in the process. All this while surviving the machinations of her best friend’s dashing godfather and the efforts of her safari guide to feed her to any lion willing to drag her away. What is a ghost-chasing widow to do?

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  All is going as it should for Beatrice Knight, until the Lightning God lands in her barn and announces that her old nemesis Koki is about to pay an unsolicited visit. While powdered cinnamon works well on many insects, the giant Praying Mantis won’t be so easily dissuaded from exacting revenge against the intrepid paranormal investigator. And let’s not forget that Mrs Knight’s cousin is engaged to a bat man while her brother has returned from the dead as a werewolf. As if that isn’t complicated enough, Mr Timmons presents a possibility too terrible to consider, yet too tempting to refuse. Now, if only she could survive long enough to make a decision…

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  Having offered her firm and unequivocal resignation, Beatrice Knight is certain she is clear of her former employer, the Society for Paranormals, and is now free to proceed with her life and a wedding. It all seems quite simple, until the Society’s Director Prof Runal shows up at the train station, her cousin announces horrifying news and a ponytailed dwarf decides he needs her powers to eradicate all non-humanoid paranormals. At least one thing is certain: anything is manageable with a pot of tea and a fully loaded walking stick.

  THE GHOST POST MYSTERIES: An Urban Fantasy Series that's a bit different from my others: the humour is darker, the characters more deadly

  Lethal Takeout

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  Fatal Secrets

  Just when Axe Cooper thinks he’s safe, guess again. His memory is fading and unless he wants to lose his mind, he has to figure out why he buried an old friend in a swamp. And let’s not forget the ghost-eating Deathmark that’s developed an unhealthy interest in Axe and his friends. Being dead is no protection from the secret that is about to crawl back into his life. But he’s not the only one with something to hide and some secrets are deadlier than others.

  DRAGON & MYTH: A Sci-Fi / Fantasy Adventure Series

  Dragon’s Mind

  Ten years ago, a human brain was installed into a computer system. To most people, it is a non-living entity operating in the background of their lives. Only a girl named Myth knows better: his name is Dragon and he is very much alive. And after ten bodiless years, Dragon has a dream that will change everything. The dream will put his mind and Myth’s life in mortal danger. There are powerful forces that don’t want the truth revealed and they’re coming for Dragon. But where do you run to when you’re already everywhere?

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  GHOSTS & SHADOWS: Fantasy Adventure Series with some Time Travel thrown in, just for fun

  Diary of a Part-Time Ghost

  Fifteen-year old Ash wants nothing more than to be a normal kid and avoid trouble. Then his birthday gift transforms him into a ghost and zaps him back in time to the beginning of the American Revolution. If he thought that was bad, it’s about to get a whole lot worse. Ash must rescue his ancestor from one danger after another, including an implacable enemy who controls the very shadows. What starts out as a brief experiment in time travel rapidly changes into a race for his very survival, and Ash is running out of time.

  Where Shadows Dance

  Ash was looking forward to a summer of camping and time travelling. Then his Great Aunt fades away (literally) and his near-death nightmare gets even weirder. Juna isn’t having a great time of it either: having escaped from her parole officer, she barely survives falling out of an airplane. While Ash and Juna try to get out of the past and back home, events and dreams keep pointing them to the place where it all starts and ends, where shadows dance and time bends. If they can get there, they may be able to stop an implacable enemy from destroy
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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Vered Ehsani is one of those people who has trouble answering the question “Where are you from?” Born in South Africa and raised in Canada, she lives in Kenya with her husband and their two children. When she isn’t writing, running a radio show (http://africacreates.net/) or daydreaming about African ghosts and myths, she pretends to work as an environmental consultant. Visit her world (http://veredehsani.co.za) and receive a FREE book.

  Copyright © 2011 Vered Ehsani

  All rights reserved

  ~~

  ISBN: 1456579231

  ISBN-13: 9781456579234

  E-Book ISBN: 978-1-61397-389-9

  LCCN: 2011901482

  ~~

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.