I didn’t choose the boo life. The boo life chose me.
I’m Ivy Hearst and I’ve always had a spook-tacular talent for seeing ghosts. It’s just part of who I am. When I was small it used to give me the heebie-jeebies, but as I got older I learned to embrace my gift. Now, as a spiritual medium, I get to help others handle their own spirit experiences and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Normally.
Seeing the ghost of a dearly departed client who’s house I just performed a spiritual cleansing in? That’s a new one. And it’s landed me in hot water.
Now I’ve gotta put my gift to work and ghost-bust a murderer. With a bossy apparition all up in my business and the Savannah PD side-eying me as a suspect, this won’t be easy. A web of mystery and danger is being woven around me. Evil spirits and the killer are closing in, and I’ll have to walk the shadowy line between the dead and the living to uncover the truth.
The clock is ticking, and the supernatural forces around me are only growing stronger. Can I bring a murderer to justice before I get thrown in the slammer–or into the afterlife myself?
Wanna meet Ivy? Read Chapter 1 of Ghost Appeal now 👇🏼
Chapter 1
The little girl on the bus had turned around in her seat and was staring at me. She was only about eight or nine, with mousy brown curls scraped back into two messy pigtails on either side of her angelic face. The only other passenger was an elderly man sitting at the front chatting quietly to the driver. I smiled gently at the girl, and she hesitated for a moment before smiling back.
We rode for a few more stops in silence. I didn’t stare because it’s rude, but I could see her watching me out of the corner of my eye as we passed by Savannah State University and into Brookview. Not that I minded her staring. I’m used to it. I didn’t ask her where her parents were, because judging by the style of her clothes they were already long gone.
She reached out her hand, letting her wrist rest against the back of the seat in front of me. I covered her small hand with mine, even though I knew I wouldn’t feel any warmth in her skin. My hand fell through to the seat fabric but I kept it there until I got to my stop, ignoring the tingling feeling of touching her. We exchanged another smile before I stepped off the bus and into the wall of late-summer heat. When I looked up at the window to see the girl, she’d already vanished.
I wish I could say this was an unusual occurrence for me, but I’d be lying. Ever since I was a kid, I could see things. Things other people apparently couldn’t. Waking up in the middle of the night to a shadow in the corner of my room or even seeing an old lady gliding around with no feet in the frozen foods section while grocery shopping with my mom was pretty scary.
That’s where my grandma came into the picture. Seems she also had this ‘gift’—the ability to see people who had died and passed from the realm of the living and into the next. The gift seems to skip generations. Sometimes a few at once. Sometimes just one, or not at all. Fact is my mom never had it, so Gran hadn’t seen fit to tell her about all the things she could see that my mom couldn’t.
But when I came along, all that changed.
I became kind of an apprentice, learning everything I could about why ghosts stay attached to the living. It’s complicated and a little sad, but Gran also taught me how to help them. And that part was pretty darn awesome. Ignoring spirits in your day-to-day can be difficult when they’re talking at you all the time, so I went all in with the ‘ghost whispering’ gig. Now it’s my job, traveling around to help folks move on and stop troubling the living.
Which is how I ended up at the end of a long hallway in an apartment building, staring at the front door of a woman called Poppy Mettam.
Poppy was well-known in the occultist community of Savannah for being the leader of the Affinity Coven, a group of four witches who each represented a particular element. Their magic tended toward the gray—neither good nor bad—and the coven had a reputation for providing love potions and hexes for money. I tried not to judge. After all, I use my gift for money too. But there seemed to be a difference between creating harm and promoting calm if you asked me.
Regardless, I took another look around at my surroundings. Poppy’s front door was painted a rich, deep purple, denoting the residence belonged to a witch. There were a few healthy-looking potted plants scattered on either side of it, and a large window on the left looking out over some parkland. The sky outside was heavy with rain clouds, dampening what would otherwise be a beautiful sunset. But I’ve lived in Savannah all my life, and I knew the rain would partner with the lingering summer heat to turn the city into a sauna.
And then my hair would turn into a poodle-perfect frizz bomb.
I lifted my hand to knock on the door but froze when I heard voices being raised on the other side of it.
“Just stop being so stubborn and let me help you!”
Man’s voice. Not very deep. Frustrated.
“We’ve done everything we can,” a woman countered desperately. “It’s why I needed to get someone else. This thing is strong, Archie. I got this girl’s number from Francois. You doubting him, too?”
I gathered the woman speaking was Poppy. Her voice was more measured than her friend’s, but there was an undercurrent of fear in her tone. I hovered outside the door, my brows pulled together in a frown. I didn’t like eavesdropping, but I didn’t like being late for clients either.
“Maybe my mother was right,” the guy called Archie snapped. “You’re losing your touch.”
There were a few seconds of silence before Poppy spoke. “I think it’s time you left.”
“I think so, too.”
Before I could raise my hand to knock the door was wrenched open to reveal a man in his mid-twenties with dark hair, dark eyes, and a sardonic expression. He quirked a brow at me, thin lips twisting sideways into a sneer.
“Your ghostbuster’s here,” he said over his shoulder before looking me up and down. I straightened a little as he pushed past me, sweeping down the hallway toward the stairs. I watched him go, reaching out with my talents to see if I could sense anything there until a voice behind me called me back to the present.
“You must be Ivy.”
My gaze swiveled back to the doorway.
She was a tall, thin woman with a slightly stooped back and long red hair she wore in dreadlocks. Her white shirt perfectly complimented her otherwise-eclectic appearance. She had a kind face, and smiled at me warmly as she moved aside to let me into the apartment, the bangles on her wrists jingling.
“I am. You must be Poppy.”
“In the flesh,” she confirmed, flashing me an apologetic smile and moving out of the way to gesture me inside. “Sorry about Archie. Things are tense with my coven lately.”
“You don’t need to apologize for him,” I told her, his nasty words still ringing in my ears.
“I feel like all I do is apologize for him lately,” she sighed, leading me across the open-plan dining room into the kitchen nook where she put the kettle on to boil. “He’s very ambitious, but sometimes that makes him a bit too brash. He just wants what’s best for me and the coven, but he doesn’t understand the value of patience.”
This really wasn’t any of my business, and just talking about Poppy’s coven made my insides squirm. I wasn’t here for gossip, I was here to do my job.
She turned back to face me, a silver medallion around her neck catching my eye as it flashed in the light. “Tea?”
“Please,” I said, letting the vibes of the apartment swirl around me.
A heavy presence had begun to creep in around us while we were talking. It was strong, and it was dark—and it wasn’t human. Poor Poppy. Whatever this thing was, it had been using her as its own personal energy buffet for months. Her aura was practically in tatters, ripped and shredded and hanging like a lifeless and dull piece of old linen around her.
“Why don’t you tell me a bit about what’s been happening?” I put my bag of tricks and tools on the counter and started taking things out. A jar of black salt, sprigs of rosemary. Poppy was throwing a teabag into a cup and looked up in time to see my huge selenite athame as I laid it on her kitchen counter.
“Okay,” she drawled, her eyes wide with awe at my athame—essentially a giant crystal sword for ceremonial use—before she glanced back at me. “I haven’t been sleeping very well, as you can see,” she joked, referencing the rather obvious bags under her eyes. “I find it really hard to turn my brain off and get to sleep, and when I do finally drift off I have the most insane nightmares. Nightmares that are so real I wake up in a panic two or three times a night.”
“I see,” I said, making a mental note. Sounded like the bedroom was going to be my first port of call. “Anything else?”
“It’s kind of embarrassing,” she admitted sheepishly, pouring the boiling water. “But I feel like I am being watched. All the time. Every room, constantly. I never feel alone.”
I frowned lightly. “And why is that embarrassing?” It was an interesting word choice, when I could tell just how scared she really was.
“Because I’m a witch,” she smiled tightly. “And, if you’ll forgive the humble-brag, I’m a witch of no small talent.”
I’d learned as much about Poppy before I’d arrived. If she’d tried on her own and by joining forces with three other witches and still been unable to cleanse the space, there was definitely something hinky going on. I nodded and pursed my lips, reaching into my bag for my long black tourmaline crystal chip necklace. Winding it around my neck a couple times, my eyes drifted to a piece of paper on the counter nearby. Bold marker capital letters scrawled across it forced me to read it.
MADDOX DOESN’T WANT YOU. YOU NEED TO BACK OFF AND LET ME BE THERE FOR HIM. I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO ASK YOU AGAIN.
URSULA.
Poppy placed my tea on the counter next to the note, realizing I’d read part of it.
“Nothing seems to be able to shift whatever this is. And I worry it’s having an effect on the other coven members, as you can see from Ursula’s note.”
“Thanks. She’s a member of your coven?” I asked, surprised. With friends like Ursula and Archie, enemies seemed like they’d be a walk in the park.
“She is,” Poppy sighed. “Ursula’s always had a thing for Maddox—my on-off boyfriend. We’re currently very much off. I’ve had enough of his womanizing, even though Ursula seems to find that hard to believe. But what if this thing is feeding off our energies, playing us off against one another?”
Ah. There it was. “You say thing,” I started, looking her dead in the eye. “You’re aware it’s not human?”
Poppy didn’t even blink. “Oh yes. No human spirit would have been able to withstand the measures we’ve already taken.”
I nodded. I had no doubt Poppy was correct about the way things were happening. Demonic entities thrived on discord and unhappiness. My priority now was making sure it couldn’t do any more damage, so those affected could heal.
“Well,” I said with a tight smile. “I’m going to need you to leave the apartment for an hour, like we discussed. Then I can get started.”
“I’m all set,” Poppy announced, getting up with a wry smile. Her long, boho-style skirt fluttered as she gathered up her purse and a thick book that looked like it had been read many times. “I’ll be in the cafe across the street. When you’re done, just send me a text. And take your time,” she added. “I want this thing gone for good. I don’t care if it takes you three hours, and I don’t care how much it costs, either.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised with what I hoped was a confident smile. “See you soon.”
“Good luck,” Poppy said to me, with one more look around her apartment as though she didn’t quite believe I could succeed where she’d failed.
I’ll admit, once the door closed behind her I wasn’t entirely sure of it either. As we’d chatted I’d felt danger creeping around us, breathing down our necks. Poppy was right. Whatever this was, it was strong, and it was determined not to leave. Unluckily for it, I was also strong and just as determined it would be going.
I started by opening all the windows in the apartment, then burning my signature blend of herbal incense. I worked my way from the front door through to the windows of each room, making sure to get the smoke in every single nook and cranny so there was nowhere not touched by the sweet, smoky scent of burning herbs.
Usually, this worked a treat. The smoke cleansed the vibes and moving towards the windows helped evict anything vibrating at a lower frequency than the energy I was pushing. But this time, after doing the smoke cleanse, I could still feel this thing.
And it was angry.
I poured my distilled water into a ceremonial bowl and used it to lock down all the mirrors in the home. I’d worked with Francois, a friend of mine who owns a magic shop, to imbue the water with all sorts of magical properties that made it perfect for my line of work. There was a small mirror by the front door I locked down within seconds, and another full-length floor mirror in the bedroom half-covered with an exotically printed scarf. Mirrors were massive spiritual portals.
I stepped into the tiny bathroom and then stopped dead still.
The mirror above the vanity was brand new and obviously expensive. It had a gorgeous gold frame that was both somehow modern and also characterful, and I could imagine it in a high-end magazine photoshoot. But I’d be darned if that mirror didn’t chill me right down to my bones. Holding back a sigh of annoyance, I set my water bowl on the edge of the vanity and dipped my fingers in it, ready to lock the sucker down.
When I looked back up, a thick black shadow was standing right behind me in the bathroom, so close I could practically feel its breath on my neck. My body immediately broke out in goosebumps and I gasped, jumping away from whatever the hell this was just on pure instinct. I knocked my water bowl off the edge of the vanity and it smashed, sending shards of ceramic in every which direction.
If I had been imagining things, that’s when reality would have come crashing back in. But it didn’t. I stared at the shadow-being in the mirror and it stared right back at me until I finally broke out of the spell it had me under. I swiped my water-covered fingers across the mirror in a hasty pentagram as it reached a spindly, sharp-clawed hand towards me. By the time I finished the final point of the star, the creature flickered like an old movie and then disappeared.
My heart was practically in my throat, beating so hard and so fast I was worried it might explode. I’d seen—and dealt with—demonic entities before. Some of them had been easier to send back to Hell than others. But this thing had a presence unlike anything I had ever experienced. Breathing heavily, I glanced around to be sure I was safe enough before I bent to pick up the remains of my bowl.
An hour later, I had done everything I could think of. Black salt now lay across every threshold from the front door through to each of the rooms in Poppy’s tiny apartment. I had swiped my special water across anything I could think of that could hold a demonic attachment Poppy might have brought into the apartment, and even did some sound clearing with my trusty bell. But I couldn’t shake the feeling I still wasn’t alone. My sense of indignation flared as I realized I needed to bring out the big guns.
To my herbal incense I added rue and some whole cloves, mixing the concoction in my burning bowl before adding and lighting a charcoal tablet. Once it was smoking nicely, I took a tiny spray bottle of actual holy water out of my bag. Going through the apartment yet again, I let the smoke fill the space once more. But this time, I added strategically placed squirts of holy water into the mix while declaring my intent.
“Begone from this place, where you hold no power.
Now is the time, this is the hour.
Go back now from whence you came,
be it done as I proclaim!”
The words wove themselves into the vision I had in my mind of myself, surrounded in the pure white light of spirit. As I made my way through the apartment I envisioned the light spilling into every tiny corner, banishing any residual energy that didn’t have the highest of intents. By the time I completed this ritual, I was feeling much more at ease in the place. I could tell the thing was no longer there, so I texted Poppy to come meet me.
“Thank you so much!” she said, her face awash with relief as she folded me into an impromptu hug just inside her front door. “The place already feels so much better than it did before. I can’t believe you were able to get rid of it!”
“Look,” I said as I pulled myself out of the hug, not wanting her to get the wrong impression. “I’ll be honest. I got rid of it for now, but there is definitely something lingering around the outside of what I just did. Just make sure to keep your protection wards up and in good strength. Here.” I dipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out a card with my name and phone number on it. “Call me back if you have anything else you need help with, okay?”
“I will,” Poppy promised. “I really appreciate it, Ivy.”
“Any time,” I smiled widely, pleased to have been able to finally evict her otherworldly problem. “I’ll see you around. Take care, Poppy.”
“You too!” The door closed behind me, leaving me in the hallway with Poppy’s potted plants. And that’s when doubt nibbled at the underside of my conscience.
