Bone Voyage: Paranormal Women's Fiction


 
 
 
 BONE VOYAGE
 
 Midlife Spirits Series
 #5
 (NOVELLA)
 
 by
 
 H.P. Mallory
 
 
 ALSO BY HP MALLORY:
 
 
 PARANOMAL WOMEN’S FICTION:
 Haven Hollow
 Midlife Mermaid
 Midlife Spirits
 
 
 PARANORMAL ROMANCE:
 Witch & Warlock
 Vampire Esquire
 Ever Dark Academy
 
 
 FANTASY ROMANCE:
 Dark Destinies
 Gates of the Underworld
 Lily Harper
 Dulcie O’Neil
 
 
 PARANORMAL REVERSE HAREM:
 My Five Kings
 Happily Never After
 
 
 SCI-FI ROMANCE:
 The Alaskan Detective
 
 
 TRILOGIES:
 Crown Of Lies
 Dark Circus
 Chasing Demons
 Dungeon Raider
 Here to There
 Arctic Wolves
 Wolves of Valhalla
 Lucy Westenra
 
 
 
 Bone Voyage
 Copyright © 2020 by HP
 MALLORY
 All rights
 reserved.
 
 Published by HP Mallory at Smashwords
 
 
 Smashwords Edition License
 Notes
 
 This ebook is licensed for your personal
 enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
 other people. If you would like to share this book with another
 person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
 you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
 purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to
 Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own
 copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
 
 
 Table of
 Contents
 
 Chapter One
 Chapter Two
 Chapter Three
 Chapter Four
 Chapter Five
 Chapter Six
 Chapter Seven
 Chapter Eight
 
 Reading Sample: Sinjin
 About
 Author
 
 Bone Voyage
 Novella
 
 
 Chapter One
 
 It was my first Christmas
 in New Orleans and, more specifically, my first one in my new house
 on Prytania Street. After deciding to quit an unhappy marriage, I’d
 packed my things, left Minnesota, and headed here. And now I was
 the proud owner of a nineteenth-century, three-story,
 five-thousand-square-foot mansion. So what if it were in dire need
 of a facelift? Actually, it needed a lot more than that—it was in
 dire need of a whole body lift.
 I was still in the process
 of completing that full body lift. So far, only the kitchen, the
 downstairs bedroom, and the bathroom were fully remodeled. But that
 didn’t stop me from busting out my Christmas guns! And those guns?
 Boy, were they big ones! Yes, I’d gone a little bit overboard when
 it came to my holiday decorations. Now the furniture-free, as well
 as drywall-free, living room boasted faux pine garlands winding up
 the balustrades on either side of the staircase, as well as fluffy
 wreaths in every window. Life-size figures of Santa and Mrs. Claus
 stood off to one side of the double front doors, with eight elves
 standing on the other side. And let’s not forget the Christmas
 village! I set that up underneath the bay windows on the far side
 of the room. At this particular moment, I was tackling a behemoth
 known as my fourteen-foot Christmas tree! It fully occupied the
 center of the room, intoning a festive air, completely adorned in
 white, silver and gold. And its crowning glory? Nothing less than a
 diamond-studded (fake, of course) star to top off the whole
 thing.
 And that, right there, was
 the problem.
 The tree was fourteen feet
 tall and I wasn’t. Even at the top of my trusty ladder, I was still
 a few feet too short.
 “Hmm,” I grumbled from the
 fifth step of the ladder. I glanced down at the star in my hand and
 then back up to the top of the tree.
 Do not contemplate it, ma
 minette, Drake’s voice sounded inside my
 head. You will most assuredly fall and
 injure yourself. May I remind you, I am still in the unenviable
 position of also feeling your physical pain?
 Hearing someone’s
 disembodied voice inside your head might seem like reason enough to
 fall off your ladder, but I didn’t. Why? Because that inner voice
 didn’t surprise me. I’ve been hosting the ghost of Drake Montague,
 a twentieth-century French Creole policeman, for some time now; so
 let’s just say I was used to it.
 What if I wedged the
 ladder a little bit closer to the tree? And then stood on the top
 step? I bet I could reach the treetop, I
 responded to Drake’s comment in thought. Eyeing the top of the tree
 with even more determination, I added: And
 I can brace myself against the fireplace to keep my balance.
 Sure, it was a great plan.
 Mon Dieu!
 That sounds like no more than a fool’s errand
 which will only result in our being admitted to Charity
 Hospital! Drake protested in his usual,
 histrionic falsetto voice that normally amused me. Right now,
 however, he was sounding more like the voice of doom. Given how
 determined I was to see my Christmas preparations completed, the
 voice of doom most certainly DID NOT fit into my plans.
 Just watch,
 I thought as I started coming back down the
 ladder. Once I had both of my feet on the floor, I grabbed the
 ladder and forcibly shoved it as far against the tree as I could,
 causing a few ornaments to swing radically. They briefly swayed
 back and forth, but I didn’t think they were going to fall off, so
 I breathed a sweet sigh of relief. As I faced the ladder again, I
 rocked it back and forth, trying to determine how safe it was to
 climb. It wasn’t exactly stable. One of the legs was on top of the
 rug while the other three were in contact with the hardwood floor.
 Well, make that two legs that were resting on the floor … the third
 was helplessly airborne.
 Mon chaton,
 Drake continued in his worried-mom tone, his
 French accent even thicker.
 If you don’t take risks,
 you don’t see rewards, I fired back
 smartly. Starting back up the ladder, I was a bit more tentative as
 I ascended to the top. Once I reached the second to the last step,
 I stabilized myself by leaning against the marble fireplace. Then
 taking a deep breath, I