The Ghost Host: Episode 1 (The Ghost Host Series) Read online

  The Ghost Host

  Episode 1

  Also by DelSheree Gladden

  Escaping Fate Series

  Escaping Fate

  Soul Stone

  Oracle Lost

  (Coming 2017)

  Eliza Carlisle Mystery Series

  Trouble Magnet

  The Catalyst (novella)

  The Handbook Series

  The Crazy Girl’s Handbook

  The Oblivious Girl’s Handbook

  The Arcane Wielders Series

  Life & Being (coming Dec 2016)

  Twin Souls Saga

  Twin Souls

  Shaxoa’s Gift

  Qaletaqa

  The Destroyer Trilogy

  Inquest

  Secret of Betrayal

  Darkening Chaos

  Someone Wicked This Way Comes Series

  Wicked Hunger

  Wicked Power

  Wicked Glory

  Wicked Revenge

  The Aerling Series

  Invisible

  Intangible

  Invincible

  The Date Shark Series

  Date Shark

  Shark Out Of Water

  The Only Shark In The Sea

  Shark In Troubled Waters

  The Ghost Host

  Episode 1

  Book One of

  The Ghost Host Series

  DelSheree Gladden

  Kindle Edition

  The Ghost Host: Episode 1

  Book One of

  The Ghost Host Series

  Written by DelSheree Gladden

  Copyright © DelSheree Gladden 2015

  Cover Design DelSheree Gladden

  Model Photography by Kassondra Sturtevant with Mystereah Photography

  Cover Model Kate Bordeaux

  Published by DelSheree Gladden

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  For Abbey

  Who loves scary stories even though she’s always too scared to go to sleep after hearing one.

  Acknowledgements

  When I started writing this book last year, I intended it to be funny. Echo had other plans and this book is not funny. However, when I sent the beta copy to the always fabulous Apryl Baker, there were still vestiges of humor in the first few chapters and she said it felt too YA because it reminded her of iCarly! I had a good laugh about that because it was my kids’ love of iCarly before it ended and my love of Apryl’s books that got me interested in ghosts and introduced me to Echo Simmons, The Ghost Host.

  I also owe Apryl a big thanks for pointing out several majors and minor flaws with the original version of this story and helping me work out how to fix them. You know you have a great friend when they’re willing to be that honest and then stick around to patch up the problems.

  I need to thank my other early reader, Sneha Mohite, who started reading when I only had half the book written and then stuck with me for months on end to get the ending and give me her thoughts.

  My other beta readers on this project were invaluable as well and helped me with a particularly sticky issue so I could get it just right. Thank you, Melissa Bendt, Mylissa Demeyere, Michelle Zeplin, Rhonda Sermon, Monique Bogan, Deanne Gladden, and Nikki Jeffrey.

  Final thanks goes to Kassondra Sturtevant (my awesome sister), aka Mystereah Photography, for taking the cover model pics for the front cover after I whined that there were no good stock photos of redheads, and to the gorgeous Kate Bordeaux for posing for her.

  Contents

  1: Baffled

  2. Trouble Is

  3. Crazies

  4. Ghosts and All

  5. Madness and Meatloaf

  6. Anything But

  7. The Only Ones

  8. Experiences

  9. Long Distance Comfort

  10. Fair Trade

  11. Together?

  12. Boyfriend Material

  13. The Old Estate

  14. Worse

  15. Glare of Death

  16. Suffocate

  17. Fear

  18. Vengeful

  19. Simple Touch

  20. Adjustment

  21. Invasion

  22. Enough

  23. Doubts

  24. Clouded

  25. Zombie

  26. Pieces

  27. Tether

  28. The Last Thought

  29. Ordinary

  30. The One

  31. Connection

  32. The Choice to Stay

  33. Cryptic

  34. Power and Purpose

  35. Instincts

  36. Gone

  37. Tune In

  Other Books by DelSheree

  About the Author

  1: Baffled

  (Echo)

  I’m not scared of cameras, just the rogue ghost trying to force his way onto my webshow. My two best friends, Holden and Zara, rush around the set trying to work out all the last minute details and camera setup. I am considerably less helpful as I stare at the cameras, twisting my hands nervously.

  This is usually the best part of my week. That was before the rogue ghost showed up last month and started stalking me. The black fear and raging anger he carries around instantly put me on edge. I’ve been doing my best to avoid him, but the attacks are getting worse every day.

  Noticing my reticence, Zara stops next to me and squeezes my arm. “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Holden has the whole area circled in salt. He’ll close it as soon as your guest steps inside the circle. No one else will get in.”

  I nod, but not even the knowledge that my friends have my back and the presence of the salt reassures me. I have a feeling that ordinary precautions won’t cut it against the rogue.

  “Two minutes, people!” Holden shouts as he races across the room to lock the door against unexpected interruptions. Tonight, I’d actually welcome someone barging in over something else’s appearance.

  Zara moves away from me and grabs an eraser to get rid of the show notes from earlier this week. She sprints back to one of the cameras a second later, missing as she tries to toss the eraser back onto the tray. The blackboard is still smudged with chalk dust, but I set the eraser back on the tray and face the desk and chair waiting for me. Taking a deep breath, I walk over to it and take my seat by the time Zara starts the countdown. I’m semi-composed as her last finger drops and she signals that we’re live.

  “Welcome back to The Ghost Host,” I say with a smile that’s not quite as genuine as usual. “I’m Echo Simmons and we’ve got an extra special show tonight. We’re going back in time to talk to a ghost who hasn’t seen the inside of a high school in at least half a century.

  “As always, everything you see tonight is real. We use old school chalk and blackboards so you know we’re not interfering digitally, and we stream live so there’s no time for special effects. The responses you see will be straight from our guest, communicated through me by automatic writing. You’re welcome to believe me or not. It’s up to you.”

  Having gotten through my memorized spiel, I smile again, feeling a bit more confident that this will go well. Saying that we stream live is a small fib since Ho
lden delays the broadcast by about thirty seconds just in case one of the ghost guests try to break the rules, but we’ve learned it’s essential from past experiences. Better safe than sorry.

  I glance toward the blackboard. My mom really couldn’t understand why I wanted one last year when every other born and bred California girl I went to school with was asking for shopping trips or surf boards. She was unwilling to refuse me for fear of things going bad again, and presented it to me on my seventeenth birthday with a shake of her head. Dad gave up trying to figure me out a while ago. He’s supportive so long as things keep going well.

  Turning toward the blackboard, I nod to the elderly woman waiting just outside the salt circle and ignore the usual crowd of ghosts hanging around in the periphery. She showed up about a month ago, but stayed in the background, almost as though she were trying to figure out whether or not I was legit. It wasn’t until earlier this week that she attempted contact and made it clear she had a message to pass on.

  Since I’ve been burned in the past by ghosts not being on the up and up, rule one for the Ghost Host show is that guests have to give me a preview of their message before coming on the show so I can make sure it’s not going to cause trouble for anyone still living. This lady’s thoughtful approach and clear respect paired up with her innocuous message made it easy to say yes.

  Holden breaks the circle when I give him the signal to let my guest in, then closes it immediately behind her when I nod that she’s through safely. The crowd of ghosts waiting outside the circle all want a turn, but they all know the rules by now and won’t risk crossing me. Any ghost who doesn’t obey the rules of the show will never be allowed on to share their message. No second chances.

  “Now, we have a guest ready and waiting,” I say when I turn back to the camera, “but we need to go over the rules first.” I stand and walk over to the blackboard. The woman’s gaze follows me. Holden, standing behind the larger camera and tripod now, adjusts it slightly on Zara’s command.

  The woman is already nodding her agreement to my conditions, but since I’m the only one who can see her, it’s not quite good enough. “I’ll write the rules—so you can see my bad handwriting—and after I do, our guest will take control and sign her name with the chalk in her own handwriting, agreeing to the terms.”

  The woman nods and I start talking. “Rule one. You are not allowed to physically interact with any of the crew, me included. Rule two. You must answer three of my questions before being able to deliver your message. Rule three. Your message may be of a personal nature, but I won’t put up with any hateful or disparaging comments you can’t prove. Any accusations have to be fact checked before the show and approved beforehand. Are we agreed?”

  Instead of nodding again, the woman closes her eyes. I don’t exactly lose control, but I instantly feel an outside source nudging my subconscious, urging me to move the chalk. I’m only vaguely aware of my hand moving as I begin signing her name in a perfect, but shaky script. It’s the kind of handwriting that hasn’t been properly valued in ages. Zara and Holden start grinning when they see it. It’s the first indication they have that tonight will be successful. When we first started the show, we had no idea what would happen once we let the ghosts get involved for real.

  From an outside perspective, the show simply passes on messages to help ghosts reconnect with family and friends in a way they can’t on their own. I am glad I can help them find peace, but even more than that, I do this for my own sanity. Allowing the ghosts this outlet is the only way to control their presence in my life. Not giving over the reins completely reminds them that even though they’re the reason for the show, I’m still in charge. Which is where the three questions come in.

  The curly script on the chalkboard takes me a minute to decipher once the woman pulls her influence away and I can concentrate on the words. “All right, Madeline Crew, here’s your first question. What is one unique event that happened during your lifetime?”

  The feel of her influence creeps into me again, even more strongly than before. I feel my hand wobbling against the chalkboard as I imagine hers would. To me, it actually feels as if my hand has turned knobby and old, trying to scrawl out an answer. To everyone watching, it looks like I’ve got a serious caffeine buzz. The shaky script slowly spells out her answer. I shake off her influence again and read what she had to say.

  I was 40 years old when Kennedy was assassinated.

  I’m not all that surprised by her response given her apparel choices. Her housecoat over a loose floral print nightdress looks like something not even my own grandma would have worn before she passed away. Its dated pattern looks like something that would have been popular some time ago.

  “Thank you, Madeline. Question two is…what was the best gift you ever received and who gave it to you?”

  Madeline’s expression scrunches just a bit as she thinks. It doesn’t take long before she has me writing again.

  A train ticket to Tennessee, given to me by Tommy Sharp.

  I smile at the cryptic answer. The coy look I get in response makes me chuckle. “I’m sure there’s much more to that story than a simple train ticket.” Madeline’s watery eyes sparkle, but she doesn’t offer any more. I nod, respectful of her desire to keep a few secrets, even in death.

  “Maybe you’ll tell us more another time,” I say. “For now, let’s get to the last question. What is the bravest thing you did during your life?”

  For some reason, Madeline’s face looks like it would have gone completely pale had she any actual flesh and blood. The haunted expression only lasts a moment before she pushes over her influence and has me hastily scratch out her response.

  Stealing classified information from the Nazis.

  “Whoa,” I say once I get my head back, and the sentiment is echoed by Holden and Zara. “Now I really want to have you back again.”

  Madeline’s expression says she’s not keen on the idea at all, but I am definitely going to be looking her up after the show. This lady has some crazy interesting stories tucked away somewhere. She doesn’t want to put them out there, but that won’t stop me from digging around.

  “All right, Madeline. You’ve held up your end of the deal, so now it’s your turn to share your message.”

  Her head bobs eagerly and I feel my hand start twitching again.

  “Well, the board is now yours. Feel free to pass on your message, so long as you stick to the rules.”

  Thank you, Echo, she has me write first. Then, she urges me to pick up the eraser and wipe the board clean. I realize then just how strong she is. Usually ghosts have to really focus just to get their thoughts over to my subconscious along with the nudge to write. Everyone in the room who’s actually alive, including me, tenses in anticipation. Madeline must have a lot to say, and I think we all know it’s going to be interesting.

  This message is for my great grandson, Malachi Fields.

  Do not let your father sell the old estate before you visit again.

  Go to the closet where I kept the metal trucks and army men.

  I left something for you there, in your favorite hiding place.

  It is only for you.

  Madeline relinquishes her influence over my subconscious and glances at me hopefully. I know what she’s asking. It’s the same question every ghost who comes on the show wants answered after they relay their message to me. Will I make sure the message gets to the intended person? In response to her question, I nod.

  “We’ll do our best to make sure we track down Malachi and pass your message along, Madeline. Thank you for coming tonight.”

  She sighs in relief and bows her head. Holden steps away from the camera and breaks the salt circle so she can leave. She steps out and vanishes a moment later. I don’t know where she goes after that, but she seems happy. There isn’t much I can do with this talent, or whatever people want to call it, but I can give a few restless spirits a little bit of peace. It doesn’t hurt that it’s made me wildly popular on
line, if not here at home. Everyone at school thinks I’m a big fake and a major freak, but that’s not because of the show.

  “Well, that wraps up our show for tonight. We’ll have it up on YouTube later this evening for anyone who couldn’t catch it live, so feel free to tell your friends and send them to our channel.” I pause, ready to signal for Zara to wrap it up. All three of us jump when the temperature plummets.

  I stare at the spot Madeline just vacated, and my body goes ice cold at the sight of the salt circle not completely closed. My eyes travel up haltingly, almost closing against what I know will be there. The twitching, hazy ghost glowers at me as he reaches toward my trembling body. “No, no, no, no,” I whimper as I scramble away from it.

  Ice crystalizes along the edges of my bedroom windows and the air is suddenly charged with electricity. I can hear Zara and Holden freaking out somewhere in the distance, but my eyes and terror are wholly focused on the rogue ghost that has been tormenting me. I stare in amazement and fear as he actually manages to pick up a piece of chalk, something only a massive amount of energy will allow. I don’t know what he wants, but I know it won’t be good.

  Before I can do anything, he rounds on me, lunges…and I freeze, pure terror gripping me relentlessly. Both of his hands clamp down around my head and set off my panic button like never before. A surge of energy rips through my mind, tearing a scream from me as pain stabs through my head.

  Crashing, yelling, all around chaos breaks out. As the pain sears through me, salt rains down on my body. It’s only seconds later that the agony begins to vanish. Even still, I’m too shaken to even think about standing. I can barely process the fact that someone, probably my dad, is banging on my bedroom door. The only thing that really gets through is Zara and Holden dropping to the floor next to me, doing everything they can to reassure me that the ghost is gone and I’m safe again.