Page 1 of The Accidental Ghost

Chapter

One

My word, these women were…

How to describe these women?

Raphaela Tucci, Ralph to her friends, considered that thought.

Usually, she compared almost every female she met, and sometimes males, to a Golden Girl—her favorite sitcom ever.

While there were plenty of comparisons to be had between these women and the ladies on the show, even one of Sophia’s threats couldn’t compare to the intimidations of the woman named Nina.

She was a Sophia to the millionth power. Brash, brazen, loud, unfiltered and unafraid.

Not two seconds ago, Nina had barked at Marty about going shopping at some discount mall. “Marty, I swear as fuck is my witness, I’m going to eviscerate you and eat your intestines like goddamn spaghetti if you don’t shut up about this stupid shopping trip. I told you, some weird shit’s going on here and I need to figure it out, okay? George and Dex know someone, and he’s dropping by. Sometimes plans get canceled and your dumb-ass Coach purse spree has to wait.”

And then Marty had given her the finger—in stereo. “Pipe down, Mistress of the Dark! I’m allowed to express my disappointment about missing a sale because you’re a scaredy-cat and think your mausoleum of a castle is being haunted!”

Marty? Marty was a mix of Dorothy and Rose. Sometimes flirty and kittenish, other times unintentionally, albeit hilariously unaware of how clever her sweetly dipped sarcasm came across.

“Be fair, Marty. Something’s going on around here. You know it. We’ve both smelled whatever it is, and you can’t deny what happened at dinner earlier this week. So quit squabbling with each other or you’re both going to bed without your supper!”

That was Wanda. Ralph’s favorite, not only in the way she dressed in her pencil-slim skirt, silk shirt and cardigan, as though royalty were going to pop in at any moment, but because she wasn’t at all intimidated by either of these women.

Wanda—undoubtedly a combination of Rose’s gentle nature, Dorothy’s spot-on logic, and Sophia’s no-nonsense attitude—clapped the table with her hand to get their attention, making both women settle back in their chairs.

Anyway, because Ralph needed to pass the time, and because list-making happened to be one of her favorite things to do, she began mentally compiling her list to describe these women she’d observed while going totally unnoticed for at least a week.

She hovered in the air above them as they sat around Nina’s big oak table, considering the scene below as she plucked at her favorite beaded bracelets, lining her forearm.

1: Paranormal.

That was a word cited often in conversation amongst them. As were werewolf, ass-sniffer, Blondie, vampire, Dark Lord, Elvira Mistress of the Dark, halfsie, witch, demon, Rebecca from Sunnybrook Farms and… Raphaela frowned.

That was all she could remember for now, but there were more.

2: Friends.

These women were insanely loyal to one another. Despite their bickering. And despite the constant razzing from the surreally gorgeous vampire called Mistress of the Dark, a.k.a. Nina—who favored T-shirts with a picture of Rick Astley on them that read: Never Gonna Give a Fuck—of the pretty blonde werewolf with the long beachy waves, refereed by the stately and elegant halfsie, Wanda.

Loyalty was of the utmost importance among their group, in fact, and that included their various partners in marriage, friends and a pale, sweeter than a soft summer breeze of a boy named Carl. They called him a zombie, but what sort of zombie turned their nose up at brains and instead ate head after head of broccoli, lovingly made in various ways, by Nina?

3: Loud.

When they got to tussling, or even when they got together for game night, by Grabthar’s Hammer, they were thunderously loud.

Sometimes they were jokey-loud, as in, “Did you hear about that crusty bag of dicks necromancer, Finster? His mermaid wife booted him out of the house because he slept with that vapid Sheryl Seymore the sea serpent?”

Then they cackled until pretty Marty doubled over and had to hold her sides because she couldn’t catch her breath.

Ralph wouldn’t allow herself to delve into the idea that sea serpents and mermaids existed—though, there was proof aplenty of the paranormal in the women themselves—but that conversation between them certainly had left her curious.

Sometimes they were argumentative-loud. Yikes. When they disagreed, they did it with their whole chests. It was always deafening, and Nina used so many swear words that Ralph didn’t even know existed, but they always made up. And when they did, that was loud, too.

4: Honest.

That described this crew to a T.

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