The Helena Diaries - Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Series Novellas)

The Helena Diaries - Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Series Novellas) Read Online Free PDF

Book: The Helena Diaries - Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Series Novellas) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Jana DeLeon
couldn’t stomach a whole day of that—not even being dead.
    Then I thought about the Mudbug Hotel. The hotel would have plenty of objects to move, lots of walls and doors, and huge potential for televisions running that weren’t playing the Oxygen network, especially as the hotel was usually occupied by traveling salesmen and vacationing fishermen.  
    I lucked out as Mildred, the hotel owner, had the front doors standing open, allowing the cool morning air to drift inside the lobby. In another hour, that same air would be thirty degrees hotter, full of humidity, and smelling of crawfish from Carolyn’s Cajun Kitchen, but at the moment, it carried the pleasant aroma of cinnamon rolls baking at the café. My mouth started to water, and I shook my head. This whole death thing made no sense at all.
    Mildred was behind the counter at the front of the hotel, but had the radio going and not the television, so I headed upstairs where I managed two hours of television by following the cleaning lady on her rounds. None of it was ghost shows, though, but at least I wasn’t bored to tears. I’d hoped the cleaning lady would slip up and leave a door open and a television going, but I was probably asking too much.
    When she packed up her bucket and headed downstairs, I looked up and down the hallway. I could hear the muffled sound of televisions playing inside several of the rooms, but all of the doors were pulled completely shut. The only way I was getting inside one of those rooms was with ghostly transport.  
    No time like the present.
    I took a deep breath, focused on a room door, then launched toward it at a jog. My chest was the first part of my body to slam into the oak plank, but my head and knees shortly followed. I stumbled backward into the wall opposite the door and slid down onto the floor, giving the door the finger as I slumped.
    The door did not seem to care.
    Maybe I’d moved too fast. Maybe I had to be more deliberate about it.  
    Determined not to let a piece of wood get the best of me, I rose from the floor and approached the door. This time, I thrust my hand forward, figuring if I could get a hand through, then the rest of me could follow.
    My fingers slammed into hardwood, immediately jamming all the joints. I jumped around in the hallway, trying to pull my fingers back out into their normal state. My jumping rattled the floor so much that the guy staying in the room with the attack door came out to see what the racket was about.  
    Of course, to him the hall appeared empty, so he grumbled something about big trucks and headed back into his room. But this time, he forgot to pull the door completely shut. In the tradition of old construction, the door slowly opened wider until it stood about halfway open. Without hesitating, I slipped inside. I’d no sooner gotten inside than he realized the door wasn’t closed and pushed it shut, then headed into the bathroom.  
    Maybe I had miscalculated.
    I hadn’t planned on being locked inside a room with a middle-aged, balding salesman and wasn’t happy that I had to deal with it now. I had to get more logical and less impulsive, and for someone who’d had the luxury of spending most of her life doing whatever I wanted when I wanted, that was going to be difficult.
    The television was on the local news, which meant stories about the new landscaping in front of the town hall and the new record for largemouth bass. I was a bit miffed that my death had garnered so little news attention. You’d think leaving the town a shitload of real estate would have gotten me a statue or at minimum, a public thanks.
    Ingrates.
    The shower came on in the bathroom and a second later, the salesman came out—completely naked.
    “My eyes!” I screamed. I clenched them shut and covered them with my hands, but nothing could erase the sight of his old, sagging white body—ALL of his old, sagging white body.
    I didn’t hear any movement, so I peeked between my fingers. He had the
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