7,99 €
Hold That Ghost. An Ed Turner P.I. Novel, #2
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- FormatePub
- ISBN978-1-892339-66-9
- EAN9781892339669
- Date de parution15/10/2024
- Protection num.Adobe DRM
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurBeachfront Entertainment
Résumé
It's me, Ed Turner! I'm back! Well, actually, I never left. That is, I'd like to leave. I'm getting tired being stuck on this planet of yours. But such is my lot in life. My other lot in life, so it seems, and recently acquired, exists in the form of one very human Karen Dalton. A lovely young woman I met when she hired me, the greatest alien detective on the planet - if I do say so myself - to find her missing brother.
Despite that case not ending so great - not my fault at all ? Karen's attached herself to me like a feisty remora to a hapless shark. Stuck in Scotland through no fault of our own, and in desperate need of funds, Karen's found us a new case. This one, she tells me, involves ridding some old Scotsman's house of a nasty ghost. My answer? No! I'm no ghostbuster. I'm not even a dustbuster - one look at my LA office/apartment makes that evident to all who venture within.
Then she told me the old coot was willing to pay ten thousand dollars, US dollars, no less! How could I refuse? Actually, I did refuse. Vehemently. Then she tossed into the pot the added incentive of two tickets to Edinburgh's famous Johnnie Walker tour, if I'd take the case. I have very few rules in life and one of them is that I never turn down whisky. Whisky and peanuts, better still. Whisky, peanuts, and black licorice! Yowza! That's the trifecta of culinary delights.
So, here we are, stuck in some creepy old Edinburgh townhouse, with any number of creeps of the human sort, and many more of the ghostly variety, trying to keep ourselves and everybody else alive. Can Karen and I stop the malevolent spirits before they stop us dead? That remains to be seen. All I can say is, thank heavens there are no peaches - which everybody knows are the handiwork of some fool fruit-mad devil.
Sit back, shell some peanuts, gnaw a black licorice twist to heart-and-soul's content, and keep a glass of whisky within easy reach to wash everything all down, because I'm about to tell you what happened on the case.
Despite that case not ending so great - not my fault at all ? Karen's attached herself to me like a feisty remora to a hapless shark. Stuck in Scotland through no fault of our own, and in desperate need of funds, Karen's found us a new case. This one, she tells me, involves ridding some old Scotsman's house of a nasty ghost. My answer? No! I'm no ghostbuster. I'm not even a dustbuster - one look at my LA office/apartment makes that evident to all who venture within.
Then she told me the old coot was willing to pay ten thousand dollars, US dollars, no less! How could I refuse? Actually, I did refuse. Vehemently. Then she tossed into the pot the added incentive of two tickets to Edinburgh's famous Johnnie Walker tour, if I'd take the case. I have very few rules in life and one of them is that I never turn down whisky. Whisky and peanuts, better still. Whisky, peanuts, and black licorice! Yowza! That's the trifecta of culinary delights.
So, here we are, stuck in some creepy old Edinburgh townhouse, with any number of creeps of the human sort, and many more of the ghostly variety, trying to keep ourselves and everybody else alive. Can Karen and I stop the malevolent spirits before they stop us dead? That remains to be seen. All I can say is, thank heavens there are no peaches - which everybody knows are the handiwork of some fool fruit-mad devil.
Sit back, shell some peanuts, gnaw a black licorice twist to heart-and-soul's content, and keep a glass of whisky within easy reach to wash everything all down, because I'm about to tell you what happened on the case.
It's me, Ed Turner! I'm back! Well, actually, I never left. That is, I'd like to leave. I'm getting tired being stuck on this planet of yours. But such is my lot in life. My other lot in life, so it seems, and recently acquired, exists in the form of one very human Karen Dalton. A lovely young woman I met when she hired me, the greatest alien detective on the planet - if I do say so myself - to find her missing brother.
Despite that case not ending so great - not my fault at all ? Karen's attached herself to me like a feisty remora to a hapless shark. Stuck in Scotland through no fault of our own, and in desperate need of funds, Karen's found us a new case. This one, she tells me, involves ridding some old Scotsman's house of a nasty ghost. My answer? No! I'm no ghostbuster. I'm not even a dustbuster - one look at my LA office/apartment makes that evident to all who venture within.
Then she told me the old coot was willing to pay ten thousand dollars, US dollars, no less! How could I refuse? Actually, I did refuse. Vehemently. Then she tossed into the pot the added incentive of two tickets to Edinburgh's famous Johnnie Walker tour, if I'd take the case. I have very few rules in life and one of them is that I never turn down whisky. Whisky and peanuts, better still. Whisky, peanuts, and black licorice! Yowza! That's the trifecta of culinary delights.
So, here we are, stuck in some creepy old Edinburgh townhouse, with any number of creeps of the human sort, and many more of the ghostly variety, trying to keep ourselves and everybody else alive. Can Karen and I stop the malevolent spirits before they stop us dead? That remains to be seen. All I can say is, thank heavens there are no peaches - which everybody knows are the handiwork of some fool fruit-mad devil.
Sit back, shell some peanuts, gnaw a black licorice twist to heart-and-soul's content, and keep a glass of whisky within easy reach to wash everything all down, because I'm about to tell you what happened on the case.
Despite that case not ending so great - not my fault at all ? Karen's attached herself to me like a feisty remora to a hapless shark. Stuck in Scotland through no fault of our own, and in desperate need of funds, Karen's found us a new case. This one, she tells me, involves ridding some old Scotsman's house of a nasty ghost. My answer? No! I'm no ghostbuster. I'm not even a dustbuster - one look at my LA office/apartment makes that evident to all who venture within.
Then she told me the old coot was willing to pay ten thousand dollars, US dollars, no less! How could I refuse? Actually, I did refuse. Vehemently. Then she tossed into the pot the added incentive of two tickets to Edinburgh's famous Johnnie Walker tour, if I'd take the case. I have very few rules in life and one of them is that I never turn down whisky. Whisky and peanuts, better still. Whisky, peanuts, and black licorice! Yowza! That's the trifecta of culinary delights.
So, here we are, stuck in some creepy old Edinburgh townhouse, with any number of creeps of the human sort, and many more of the ghostly variety, trying to keep ourselves and everybody else alive. Can Karen and I stop the malevolent spirits before they stop us dead? That remains to be seen. All I can say is, thank heavens there are no peaches - which everybody knows are the handiwork of some fool fruit-mad devil.
Sit back, shell some peanuts, gnaw a black licorice twist to heart-and-soul's content, and keep a glass of whisky within easy reach to wash everything all down, because I'm about to tell you what happened on the case.
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