by
It’s August of 1850, deep in the bayou country of southern Louisiana. Four good friends are working in the fields harvesting the crops when a sudden thunderstorm drives them all indoors. There’s kind, warm-hearted J. P. Ayo; eager, earnest young T-Joe Lirette; wry, hard-bitten Clovis Dantin; and gentle, easy-going Leandre Naquin.
“Hell of a night,” Leandre remarks, as they share a drink and wait for the storm to pass. “The kind of night when the ghosts walk.”
This seemingly offhand comment is the impetus to the four men sharing their own ghost story. The tale each man tells--by turns tragic, funny, frightening, and heartbreaking--gives them a window into their friends’ souls. When one of them confesses that his own personal ghost story isn’t over, that he’s still trapped in the middle of it, the events that follow will test the depth of their loyalty and friendship in ways that none of them could ever have dreamed.
What is certain is that after that night, none of the four will ever be the same.
Publisher: Motina Books
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Tropes: Beyond the Grave Communication, Fellowship, Haunted House
Word Count: 77,200
Setting: bayou country of southern Louisiana, U.S.A.
Languages Available: English
Tropes: Beyond the Grave Communication, Fellowship, Haunted House
Word Count: 77,200
Setting: bayou country of southern Louisiana, U.S.A.
Languages Available: English
Lightning flashed, its blue-white radiance shining for an instant through the cracks in the shutters. The thunder followed almost immediately, a deep-throated rumble that made the liquor in Leandre’s cup vibrate. “Sometimes there are good reasons for not having a woman, you know.”
The corners of J. P.’s mouth quirked upward. “Such as?”
Leandre’s eyes met his friend’s, and he didn’t answer for a moment. Then he grinned. “So I can put my feet on the table.” Rain began to slash against the roof, and another gust of wind made the shutters vibrate. Enough of it made its way through gaps that the flame in the oil lamp guttered and almost went out. “Hell of a night. The kind of night when the ghosts walk.”
Clovis gave him a raised eyebrow. “Ghosts? What ghosts?”
READ MORELeandre shrugged. “Whatever ghosts are out there. There’ve got to be millions. How many people are alive now, and how many people have died since Adam and Eve left the Garden? The dead outnumber the living, no question about it.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re ghosts.”
“Not all of them, no. But tell me, Clovis, you’ve never seen a ghost? Or known someone who has?”
Clovis opened his mouth to answer, then closed it without saying anything.
“Thought so.” Leandre laughed. “I bet we all have.”
COLLAPSE
