Paranormal University: First Semester
Paranormal University™ Book One
Jace Mitchell
Michael Anderle
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2019 Jace Mitchell & Michael T. Anderle
Cover by Fantasy Book Design
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
This book is a Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, October 2019
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64202-537-8
Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-538-5
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Author Notes - Jace Mitchell
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
Paranormal University: First Semester Team
Thanks to our Beta Readers:
Mary Morris, Larry Omans, Kelly O’Donnell, Nicole Emens, Erika Everest
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Misty Roa
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Dorothy Lloyd
Deb Mader
Dave Hicks
Jeff Eaton
Jeff Goode
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
SkyHunter Editing Team
For Tucker. No one could ask for a better friend.
— Jace
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
to Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
to Live the Life We Are
Called.
— Michael
Chapter One
“No way!” Claire’s head whipped to the right, desperately searching for whoever had just stripped the purse from her shoulder.
The man’s head barely came up to the waists of those around him.
Claire saw him barreling through the crowded amusement park, and a thought raced through her mind.
Is he a midget?
Claire gritted her teeth as she watched him flee. Doesn’t matter how tall he is! I’ve got $16.53 to my name, and every bit of it is in that purse. She couldn’t even afford to be in this amusement park, except her friend Rachel had offered the ticket.
Claire took off after the thieving bastard.
“What are ya—” Rachel called, but Claire lost the words as she rushed forward.
She’d find Rachel when this was all over. Right now, she had to get her freakin’ purse and the twerp who took it.
Claire reached the crowd the little man had thrust himself into, which immediately slowed her down. She pushed on, moving people out of the way with the confidence of someone much older than her eighteen years.
“Hey! Watch it!” someone shouted from her right.
Claire paid them no mind.
She’d always had sharp eyes, and right now, they searched for any kind of quick movement—someone trying to bolt. The man was actually short enough to hide inside the crowd.
Is he a man? Or a kid?
There!
Except, what Claire thought was movement was actually a brief flash of light. She thought she might have heard someone else yell about it too.
What the hell? she wondered, slowing for a second. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta get my purse!
She pivoted and rushed forward, slicing through gaps in the crowd as they appeared before her.
The freakin’ joker was getting away! He’d made it out of the crowd and was heading deeper into the park.
How is he that fast?
Claire glanced ahead of him and saw the bend in the road. If he got there, he could slip into the wooded area lining the street and simply hide until she gave up.
“Not happening,” she vowed under her breath. She lowered her body some and surged forward, breaking free from the crowd.
Now they were in a flat-out foot race. Claire didn’t know this man, but she knew he didn’t want to be in a race with her.
The wind blew through her hair as her feet pounded the pavement. She was gaining on the jackass, although he was fast, faster than most people Claire had ever come in contact with.
She was fifty feet away when he turned around to check on her.
What the heck? Her feet kept moving though her mind froze in disbelief.
His face looked green! Not like he’d just vomited or something, but actually green.
Doesn’t matter, she thought. He could be Neapolitan ice cream-colored, he wasn’t getting away with her purse.
Claire was ten feet away when they hit the bend in the road. The man kept his head down, hurtling forward as if his life depended on it, and mayhap it did because Claire was beyond mad now.
He banked a right and headed toward the woods, obviously hoping he could lose Claire since he couldn’t beat her in speed.
“No, you don’t!” She leapt forward.
Claire grabbed the little man by his shoulders and roughly threw him to the ground.
He rolled onto the grass, flipping head over foot. Claire’s purse flew to the right, but she didn’t even glance in its direction. The money honestly didn’t matter right now. She wanted some freakin’ justice. This man tried to rob her.
He turned one last somersault and landed on his back, staring at the sky.
Claire trotted over to him.
And there she froze.
Claire Hinterland was staring at a green man.
No. Her mind spun in defiance. He’s not a man. He’s a freakin’ leprechaun!
It turned out the thief’s name was Frank, and also... He most definitely was a leprechaun.
Over the next six weeks, Claire learned a lot about Frank, but the two most important things were this: he liked beer, and he liked bowling.
In that order.
Turns out, Frank wasn’t such a bad guy. A thief, yes, but he was also pretty nice once you got to know him. Just...Well, if he ran out of beer, he might try robbing someone.
“It’s not exactly easy to get a job,” he’d told her. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Claire had rolled her eyes, knowing that was a lie. “You’re an alcoholic, Frank.”
“That’s not possible,” he’d responded with a wink and a sly grin. “I’m a leprechaun. We can’t be alcoholics; it’s a rule.”
Claire had raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t leprechauns supposed to have my skin tone? You know, be white?”
Frank glared at her. “Some are white. Some are green. I’m green, damn it, and I won’t put
up with any racism about it, you understand?”
Claire had shrugged and laughed, putting up her hands in protest. “Hey, that’s fine with me. Just learning about you and your ilk.”
The two of them were now inside Frank’s favorite haunt, a rundown bowling alley called Midtown Pins.
A plate of fries sat on the table in front of Claire, a glass of beer opposite for Frank. She dipped her hand down to the plate and grabbed a fry, hearing the now-familiar crash of Frank hitting a strike as she tossed it into her mouth.
“Badda-boom!” he shouted, shoving his hand into the air and twirling to look at her. “I tell ye, if all ye humans weren’t trying to murder me, I’d be the number one bowler in the country. Probably the entire world.”
“Frank, no one is trying to murder you,” Claire told him with a sigh. “You’ve been going on about this for a week, but look around.” She lifted her next fry, taking in the entire bowling alley with a wave. “No one is here. Just you, me, and Charlie over there making my fries and your beer. It’s like this every time we come.”
Frank walked back to the table and picked up his beer. He took a long pull. When he pulled it away from his mouth, he belched, then turned to her. “That’s your problem, lass. Smart as you are, you don’t listen to your elders. I’m over six hundred years old, and you think you can tell me my business of staying alive? I’m being followed.”
Claire grinned as she took another fry. She popped it in her mouth and chewed in silence as she studied the mythological creature.
It’d been a shock to see Frank lying in the grass six weeks ago, his big green nose pointing at her like an oddly shaped pickle.
She understood now what was happening, as did the rest of the world. The news had been covering it constantly since it broke about a week after Claire met Frank.
The “Mythological Invasion.”
Claire thought that last part, the invasion piece, was just the media creating hype. Frank wasn’t invading anything besides a brewery.
There were all kinds of theories about what was happening; Claire didn’t know what to believe. She understood a few things, but that was because of her relationship with Frank.
It looked to her like not everyone could see the mythological beings, at least not at first. For example, Charlie, at the front of the bowling alley, viewed Frank as just a short, odd-looking man. He didn’t see the green skin or the large nose.
To Charlie, Frank was just weird.
Claire had heard of a few more sightings. Some kind of rainbow-colored snake in Australia. A Chupacabra that got loose in a zoo and hurt a bunch of animals.
That one had really made Claire sad.
“So who is it, Frank?” she teased. “What do these people following you look like?” Claire liked needling him about this.
Frank picked up a bowling ball and turned around to look at her. “Men in black cars without kind faces, little lady. Zeus help me, she thinks she knows better than Frank!” He shook his head, turned around, and rolled the ball down the lane without hardly looking at the pins.
Another strike.
He twisted back toward Claire and spread his arms out to the side in a “What can you say?” gesture as he walked back to the table. “I might be the best bowler ever.”
“Isn’t Zeus from like...a different mythological era or something?” Claire asked with real curiosity.
“Sure. But I’ve met him.” Frank swigged his beer as if that was the most normal statement in the world.
That he’d met Zeus, a Greek god.
“Frank, you ever consider yourself an exaggerator?” Claire tossed another fry into her mouth, grinning at his reaction as she chewed.
“This wee little lass! Zeus!” He took a deep pull on his beer, nearly finishing it. He sat it down and leaned against the table, meeting her eyes. “Is he a mythological creature? Zeus?”
Claire said nothing, only kept the grin going.
“I’ll take your silence as knowing you were bested. Yes, he is a mythological creature, as you humans call us, and yes, I’ve met him. Every once in a while, he comes down from Mt. Olympus and takes a break from his shagging proclivities. He’s a nice enough guy.” Frank leaned back and burped again. “Deep voice, though.”
Claire laughed. Sometimes it was still hard to believe all this stuff, even though she was staring at a drunk leprechaun.
Frank turned to look at the pins being set back up. He wasn’t swaying yet, but Claire thought he might begin to soon. He’d still hit his strikes though, probably even if he was falling over.
The doors to the bowling alley opened.
Light poured into the dimly-lit building, casting the two entering figures in darkness.
Charlie looked up from the little bar he stood behind. “How are ya? Here for bowling or food?”
“We’re meeting friends,” the man on the right told him tersely.
“Heeeeey, Frank,” Claire whispered as she slowly stood up. She didn’t like the look of this, especially not after what Frank had just told her. “I don’t ever like saying you were right, so let’s just say that you might want to dip out the back. I’ll go distract whoever these jokers are.”
Frank drunkenly turned to see the men walking toward them.
The doors had closed, so they weren’t shrouded in shadow anymore. Black suits. White button-down shirts. Black ties. Both took off their sunglasses at the exact same time as if they were synchronized robots.
Claire moved around the front of the table. “Go, Frank. I’ll hold them as long as I can.” Frank may have robbed her once, but he might as well be her best friend at this point.
She wasn’t going to let any government types just show up and snatch him.
“I owe ye one, little lady. Next round’s on me.” He burped a little at the end of his sentence, but still wasn’t moving.
“I don’t drink, Frank,” Claire reminded him. “Now get out of here.”
Frank tipped a wink at her. “Aye, think I will!”
He rushed off toward the back door, while Claire kept her focus on the two approaching men. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to say or do. She just hoped she could give Frank some space to run.
“Sorry, gents, but you’re early. Bingo isn’t until later.” Claire went with sarcasm when they finally reached her lane. “The senior crowd usually gets here a little after nine.”
She stepped up to them, trying to keep their eyes on her and not looking behind her, where Frank was making his getaway.
The men looked very similar. Both had brown hair, parted to the right. The one on Claire’s left was a little older, a bit more overweight.
“You’re Claire Hinterland, right?” the older one asked with no emotion.
“Depends on who’s asking.” Claire was young, but she hadn’t grown up in what might be called a “privileged” environment. She’d been in bad positions before, and each time her spine turned to steel.
Just like it was now.
“You mind if we sit down?” the same man asked, nodding to the table Claire had just been at.
Claire raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk to me?” Meaning, this wasn’t about Frank?
“Yes, ma’am. We know about your friend, but that’s not who we’re concerned with.” The man gestured with his hand to the table. “May we?”
Claire wasn’t sure what was going on, but it didn’t look like they were going to run Frank down, nor arrest her.
Plus, I could outrun these two if needed. She moved to the table and sat down in front of her fries again.
“Don’t ask. You can’t have any.” She grabbed a fry and bit off half of it. “Now, if you’re not here for Frank, but you know what he is...Well, start with, how do you know what he is? You’d be the first people besides me that can see his true nature.”
The two men glanced at each other briefly, then the older man spoke again. “We can explain that later. We don’t see him as clearly as you do, but we probably don’t see him like th
e guy behind the bar does either. I promise, though, that all of this will make sense in the days to come. Frank isn’t important right now.”
Claire raised an eyebrow. “Right now. Then what is important? If you’re not here for him, then why are you here?”
“For you, Ms. Hinterland.” The older man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. He placed it on the table and pushed it over to her side.
Claire glanced from the paper to the man.
“Open it,” he told her with a nod.
Claire grabbed the paper, unfolded it, and started reading.
Attn: Claire Hinterland
Congratulations! We at the University of Paranormal Studies are pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted.
Our state-of-the-art campus offers a wide range of courses, cutting edge resources and equipment, and respected industry specialists as your tutors.
You may not be aware that graduates of UoPS have the benefit of guaranteed employment options with the US government, who will reimburse your course fees after three years of service.
Alternatively, the option to move into the private sector with globally recognized qualifications is also available.
We understand you may have questions about this unique opportunity. Please make use of your handler, who will address any of your queries or concerns.
Regards,
Dr. Kristin Pritcham,
First Semester Page 1
