FREE on DEC 11 ONLY :: Ghost Whisperer by Holly Day
✨ GUEST POST ✨
Hello everyone! Thank you, Addison, for allowing me to swing by today!
I’m Holly Day, and I write MM Romance stories of various lengths. I mostly write paranormal, but now and then, there is a contemporary story, and it happens that an alien makes an appearance.
Every story I write is written for a specific holiday, not the big ones, but like Squirrel Appreciation Day (Check out Squirrel Circus if you like squirrels 😘).
When I first started writing, I believed it would be hard, but have you any idea of how many holidays there are out there? There is a list of them every day.
Today, we’re celebrating Christmas Jumper Day. The story is called Ghost Whisperer, and it’s part of the JMS Books Advent Calendar. If you haven’t checked it out yet, get to it!
Behind every door, there is a previously unpublished LGBTQ+ story. It’s FREE from 12:00 AM EST to 11:59 PM EST. If you miss grabbing it during that time frame, I’m sorry, but then you missed it. The day after its turn in the calendar, the book will be available for sale in the usual shops.
TODAY IS MY DAY!
Ghost Whisperer is part of the Foolshope universe. Foolshope is a psychic community, but Axar is a medium. The problem is he only sees werewolf ghosts, and psychics and werewolves are mortal enemies, so his mother keeps him locked up in the house to prevent him from interacting with them.
Axar manages to escape from time to time. He’s a grown man, and his current ghost is helping him keep an eye out, so he won’t stay where his mother puts him.
Franklin is the alpha of the Ulledo pack. It’s the closest city to Foolshope, and while he wants nothing to do with psychics, you have no choice when it comes to who your mate is.
When Axar steps into Franklin’s bar, he knows he’s screwed. Not only is Axar wearing Christmas sweaters all year round, but he also talks to the empty air. He might be Franklin’s mate, but how can Franklin act on it when he has no idea if Axar is of sound mind?
If you’re in the mood for Christmas sweaters, evil mothers, alpha werewolves, and ghosts, check it out!
The other Foolshope stories are The Snaccident, The Wolf Cure, and A Vampire Named Otto, but they’re all standalone stories, so you don’t have to read them before you read Ghost Whisperer.
Blurb
What’s a werewolf to do when it turns out his mate is a ghost whisperer?
Franklin Cyng was perfectly happy with his life as a bar owner and being the alpha of the Ulledo werewolf pack. The minute Axar Dusan walks into his bar, Franklin knows he’s his mate, but Axar is a psychic, and werewolves and psychics do not get along.
It’s worse than that, though. Axar is talking to thin air, having a conversation with an imaginary friend. Franklin stays away. He can’t mate someone who isn’t all there. Not long after, a group of people ushers Axar out of the bar, and Franklin believes that’s it. He’ll never see his mate again.
But Axar keeps coming back to the bar, and every time he does, he talks to his imaginary friend. An invisible person who knows things about the bar Axar has no way of knowing. What’s Franklin to do? The more time he spends with Axar, the more certain he is that he can’t walk away. His mate might be batshit crazy, but better to have a mate talking to imaginary ghosts than not have a mate at all, right?
Excerpt
June
Franklin snarled at the wall in the office. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d always been calm, controlled, and clear-headed, but more often than not lately, he lost his temper. Every question made him want to bite the head off the person who’d asked it.
He feared he was going insane.
“Boss?”
He whirled around, not having heard Elvin approaching. It was another thing. He was distracted. All the time. Maybe there was something wrong with his brain.
“Yes?” He spoke through gritted teeth, and Elvin held up his palms in a placating manner.
“Christmas sweater psycho is back.”
Franklin’s feet were moving toward the door before his brain could follow. He forced himself to stop next to Elvin. “Problem?”
“Nah, just figured you might want to know.”
He did. He didn’t know why, but he did want to know.
When he glanced at Elvin, he couldn’t read his expression.
They walked through the corridor together, entering the serving area next to the bar. It was a weekday evening, so only a few people were enjoying an after-work beer.
The man occupied the same table as last time. He looked tired. More tired than he had back then. The sweater he wore today was red with a fit, tattooed Santa in a muscle shirt and the text: Big Nick Energywritten in an arch above.
Franklin snorted, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The sensation was so foreign, he feared his body had forgotten how to show amusement.
Elvin was studying him with a crease between his brows. Franklin ignored him and focused on the man again, only to realize he was speaking to the empty air next to him.
Fuck.
“He was out of breath when he came in, as if he’d been running.”
Running. In June. In a Christmas sweater. “Did he say anything?”
“Chann served him.”
Franklin gave a short nod and walked between the tables in the direction of the man.
“I tried. You think I enjoy being locked up any more than you do?” The man sounded exhausted, and Franklin slowed his steps, hoping against hope he was on the phone and not talking to thin air. Heat washed through him, and his entire body buzzed with the need to touch the man, but he slowed his steps before he got too close.
“Evening.”
The man startled and almost knocked his drink over. He managed to catch it in time and looked up at Franklin with wide eyes. “Sorry.”
Franklin frowned. What was he sorry about?
“Everything to your satisfaction?” Franklin had no idea why he asked. A drink was a drink.
“Eh…” He blushed, then he looked at the empty seat next to him, and Franklin realized he’d pulled out the chair as if someone was sitting there. A chill traveled his spine.
Before either of them could speak again, the same crowd of three who’d taken the man away last time rushed through the door.
“No.” The man whined like a child, and while Franklin wanted to grab him and run away, take him home and never let him go, he didn’t move a muscle. He wasn’t sure of the man’s mental capacity. Shit, had they served alcohol to someone who wasn’t… all there?
The group approached rapidly, and Franklin was frozen in indecision. He wanted to snarl at anyone who dared approach this man—his man—but… What if they were his carers? His heart cracked, and he took a shuddering breath.
His mate. He was almost certain it was what he was. He inhaled. The man’s scent was mixed with everyone’s and everything else’s in this place, but the faint trickle he got was enough to warm him all over and make the black cloud that had clung to him this last couple of months disperse.
Momentarily.
When the woman spoke, thunder rolled through him.
“Axar.” Her voice was sharp enough to cut.
Axar? He didn’t think he’d ever heard the name before, but psychics were weird, so why wouldn’t they name their kids in the same fashion? He studied the woman, and he believed she was related to Axar.
“No.” Axar looked at the empty seat again, and Franklin took a step back. His soul recoiled at his retreat, but what was he to do?
“Stop this nonsense. You need to be in your room.”
The woman’s voice rubbed Franklin the wrong way, but he wasn’t sure if it was his wolf messing with his mind or if he had a real reason to be concerned. His wolf was convinced the man was theirs, but Franklin couldn’t act on it.
Something was wrong.
About the Author
According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.
Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.
