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Hallow Be the Haunt

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by Heather Graham




  Hallow Be the Haunt

  A Krewe of Hunters Novella

  By Heather Graham

  1001 Dark Nights

  Hallow Be the Haunt

  A Krewe of Hunters Novella

  Copyright 2017 Heather Graham Pozzessere

  ISBN: 978-1-9459-2044-8

  Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose

  Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Book Description

  Hallow Be the Haunt

  A Krewe of Hunters Novella

  By Heather Graham

  Years ago, Jake Mallory fell in love all over again with Ashley Donegal—while he and the Krewe were investigating a murder that replicated a horrible Civil War death at her family’s Donegal Plantation.

  Now, Ashley and Jake are back—planning for their wedding, which will take place the following month at Donegal Plantation, her beautiful old antebellum home.

  But Halloween is approaching and Ashley is haunted by a ghost warning her of deaths about to come in the city of New Orleans, deaths caused by the same murderer who stole the life of the beautiful ghost haunting her dreams night after night.

  At first, Jake is afraid that returning home has simply awakened some of the fear of the past…

  But as Ashley's nightmares continue, a body count begins to accrue in the city…

  And it’s suddenly a race to stop a killer before Hallow’s Eve comes to a crashing end, with dozens more lives at stake, not to mention heart, soul, and life for Jake and Ashley themselves.

  About Heather Graham

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Heather Graham, majored in theater arts at the University of South Florida. After a stint of several years in dinner theater, back-up vocals, and bartending, she stayed home after the birth of her third child and began to write. Her first book was with Dell, and since then, she has written over two hundred novels and novellas including category, suspense, historical romance, vampire fiction, time travel, occult and Christmas family fare.

  She is pleased to have been published in approximately twenty-five languages. She has written over 200 novels and has 60 million books in print. She has been honored with awards from booksellers and writers’ organizations for excellence in her work, and she is also proud to be a recipient of the Silver Bullet from Thriller Writers and was also awarded the prestigious Thriller Master in 2016. She is also a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award from RWA. Heather has had books selected for the Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild, and has been quoted, interviewed, or featured in such publications as The Nation, Redbook, Mystery Book Club, People and USA Today and appeared on many newscasts including Today, Entertainment Tonight and local television.

  Heather loves travel and anything that has to do with the water, and is a certified scuba diver. She also loves ballroom dancing. Each year she hosts the Vampire Ball and Dinner theater at the RT convention raising money for the Pediatric Aids Society and in 2006 she hosted the first Writers for New Orleans Workshop to benefit the stricken Gulf Region. She is also the founder of “The Slush Pile Players,” presenting something that’s “almost like entertainment” for various conferences and benefits. Married since high school graduation and the mother of five, her greatest love in life remains her family, but she also believes her career has been an incredible gift, and she is grateful every day to be doing something that she loves so very much for a living.

  Also From Heather Graham

  Click to purchase

  Please look for Heather's Mira Krewe of Hunters Novels!

  Wicked Deeds

  Dark Rites

  Dying Breath

  Darkest Journey

  Deadly Fate

  Haunted Destiny

  The Hidden

  The Forgotten

  The Silenced

  The Betrayed

  The Hexed

  The Cursed

  The Night is Forever

  The Night is Alive

  The Night is Watching

  The Uninvited

  The Unspoken

  The Unholy

  The Unseen

  The Evil Inside

  Sacred Evil

  Heart of Evil

  Phantom Evil

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One

  Click here to explore

  FOREVER WICKED by Shayla Black

  CRIMSON TWILIGHT by Heather Graham

  CAPTURED IN SURRENDER by Liliana Hart

  SILENT BITE: A SCANGUARDS WEDDING by Tina Folsom

  DUNGEON GAMES by Lexi Blake

  AZAGOTH by Larissa Ione

  NEED YOU NOW by Lisa Renee Jones

  SHOW ME, BABY by Cherise Sinclair

  ROPED IN by Lorelei James

  TEMPTED BY MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian

  THE FLAME by Christopher Rice

  CARESS OF DARKNESS by Julie Kenner

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights

  TAME ME by J. Kenner

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two

  Click here to explore

  WICKED WOLF by Carrie Ann Ryan

  WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING by Heather Graham

  EASY WITH YOU by Kristen Proby

  MASTER OF FREEDOM by Cherise Sinclair

  CARESS OF PLEASURE by Julie Kenner

  ADORED by Lexi Blake

  HADES by Larissa Ione

  RAVAGED by Elisabeth Naughton

  DREAM OF YOU by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  STRIPPED DOWN by Lorelei James

  RAGE/KILLIAN by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright

  DRAGON KING by Donna Grant

  PURE WICKED by Shayla Black

  HARD AS STEEL by Laura Kaye

  STROKE OF MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian

  ALL HALLOWS EVE by Heather Graham

  KISS THE FLAME by Christopher Rice

  DARING HER LOVE by Melissa Foster

  TEASED by Rebecca Zanetti

  THE PROMISE OF SURRENDER by Liliana Hart

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights

  THE SURRENDER GATE By Christopher Rice

  SERVICING THE TARGET By Cherise Sinclair

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three

  Click here to explore

  HIDDEN INK by Carrie Ann Ryan

  BLOOD ON THE BAYOU by Heather Graham

  SEARCHING FOR MINE by Jennifer Probst

  DANCE OF DESIRE by Christopher Rice

  ROUGH RHYTHM by Tessa Bailey

  DEVOTED by Lexi Blake

  Z by Larissa Ione

  FALLING UNDER YOU by Laurelin Paige

  EASY FOR KEEPS by Kristen Proby

  UNCHAINED by Elisabeth Naughton

  HARD TO SERVE by Laura Kaye

  DRAGON FEVER by Donna Grant

  KAYDEN/SIMON by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright

  STRUNG UP by Lorelei James

  MIDNIGHT UNTAMED by Lara Adrian

  TRICKED by Rebecca Zanetti

  DIRTY WICKED by Shayla Black

  THE ONLY ONE by Lauren Blakely

  SWEET SURRENDER by Liliana Hart

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  1001 Dark Nights story

  The First Night

  by Lexi Blake & M.J. Rose

  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  About Heather Graham

  Also From Heather Graham

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Four

  Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights

  Discover More Heather Graham

  Special Thanks

  One Thousand and One Dark Nights

  Once upon a time, in the future…

  I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

  I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

  the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

  library at my father’s home and collected thousands

  of volumes of fantastic tales.

  I learned all about ancient races and bygone

  times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

  people through the millennium. And the more I read

  the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

  that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

  become part of them.

  I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

  and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

  would not be telling you this tale now.

  But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

  with bravery.

  One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

  Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

  see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

  (Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

  sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

  and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

  the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand

  women.

  Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

  in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

  places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

  never occurred before and that still to this day, I

  cannot explain.

  Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

  taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

  protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

  protect herself and stay alive.

  Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

  And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

  point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

  And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

  he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

  As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

  one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

  you now.

  Prologue

  David Henderson laughed as the cadaverous witch danced before him. The person—actor or actress or just-out-for-dress-up-fun person—was really magnificent. The costume was tight and black, with some kind of extra piece flowing around the body. The hat was big and black and pointed. The face… The face was the best. Green and mottled, with a huge hooked nose. And the eyes burned in a mixture of red and gold. Fantastic!

  Annoying, though. David knew that the house just outside the French Quarter off Frenchmen Street was occupied that night only by one person, the old man who had owned it for years and years. His family had recently refurbished the home, which had been in a sorry state since the devastation of Katrina. But now, the old man’s Wall Street son-in-law had been pouring money by the gallon into the place. It was prime for picking.

  Or, in David’s case, prime for the robbing.

  And if the old man gave him any trouble?

  That’s why Tink Aldridge was working with him.

  Tink wasn’t against violence in any form. They wouldn’t set out to kill the old guy. He was just old. But if he got in the way…

  Maybe he wouldn’t. David was no sadist. Maybe Tink was, just a little bit. Didn’t matter. There were riches to be had in that place, and David—who delivered pizza to the house—happened to know that the old man’s daughter, son-in-law, and their little brat-boy were gone for the week. Back to New York City to take care of some business there. It was a good thing to be able to hang around and smile and wait patiently for the few dollars they scrambled for to pay for their pizza. It gave him time to learn those little tidbits.

  And figure out how to rob the family dry.

  “Sacrifice, son. Sacrifice,” the witch cackled.

  She shook her broomstick at him, like something out of a bad horror movie.

  He was thinking it was too bad he didn’t have a pup with him so she could cry out she’d get his little dog, too.

  “What the hell?”

  David realized Tink had arrived. They’d made a point of meeting here, just off Frenchmen. While the pulse that came from the many music venues on Frenchmen Street was loud, here the sound was muffled—and the street usually deserted.

  “It’s a witch,” David said, looking at Tink.

  It was good Tink was here. He was a frigging giant. Six-five, built like brick. Nice for him—since he did have his sadistic tendencies. Good for David tonight. No one messed with Tink. Not for long.

  “It’s an ass,” Tink said dryly. He pointed. “Being joined by other asses.”

  And Tink was right. Two more witches had appeared. They were identical—down to the tips of their black hats and the curve of their giant noses—and red and gold, evilly gleaming eyes.

  They swayed for a moment and then stood dead still, staring at Tink and David.

  “Bunch of jerks. Get off this sidewalk—or I’ll wipe the old gum off it with your noses,” Tink said.

  The witches stared at them for a second and then began to cackle. Tink shook his head. He called out a number more names—“cunts” was among his more colorful—and then started to stride over to them.

  The first witch stepped out from the group.

  Tink headed straight for her.

  He was about to deliver one of his debilitating right hooks to the jaw—but his fist never connected.

  The witch ducked low, and then jerked up.

  David stared in bewilderment, and then in horror as Tink turned to him.

  Tink’s eyes were wide with disbelief. His hands were at his throat, clutching it as if he was choking.

  As if…

  He was choking. Blood spurted from him in a flow of crimson that wasn’t to be believed, that couldn’t be real.

  It was almost Halloween. It was a trick.

  But it wasn’t.

  Tink took a few steps, staggering with his massive bulk and height.

  And then he went down. Just like a giant redwood sawed at the root.

  Again, for a moment, David just stared. Shocked.

  Then he realized the witches were silent. And they were looking at him.

  From Frenchmen Street, the pulse of drumbeats could be heard, softened to a strange thrum by the distance.

  A saxophone played, also muted and plaintive.

  The witch who had just felled Tink took a step forward.

  David stared a split second longer. Then he turned and ran.

  Ran for his life.

  He heard their cackling laughter. And he prayed it would soon fade like the distant sound of the drum.


  Chapter 1

  Donegal Plantation sat back on Louisiana’s River Road, a grand dame—regal, elegant, and glorious. She was an icon of days gone by. Good days and bad days, certainly. For she had been built in the sweeping Colonial Southern style, and she immediately brought to mind a time of hoop skirts and mint juleps.

  Grandeur—and cruelty.

  Cotton had been king in the South, and while the Donegal family had been famous for their kind treatment and for allowing slaves to earn their freedom, slavery had still existed here.

  To many the plantation was a fascinating glimpse at the days when the country was in turmoil, days when slavery had existed, when the prevalent mindset had longed for riches more than the freedom and equality of man.

  To others, she was a spellbinding curiosity.

  And to this day, despite political controversy, she offered up a re-enactment of a long-ago skirmish during which, history had shown, it hadn’t been war or ideals, but the jealousy and cruelty of one man which had brought about the death of the most famous member of the family.

  Captain Marshall Donegal.

  He and his beloved wife had been the main ghosts of the great house for decades, though sightings of them had ebbed in the last few years.

  Rumor—cruel rumor—had even stated that Emma Donegal had killed her husband, furious with him for his infidelities. Except that there hadn’t been any infidelities, and eventually, the truth had been proven.

  Donegal Plantation was beautiful. It echoed the glory and the agony of history. Now a museum, it was often used as a guesthouse as well. But for the month of October, no rooms were rented out. It was simply too crazy a time.

  And, at the moment, Donegal Plantation was “haunted.”

 

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