S. H Marpel

It started with a dream. In it, John Earl Stark solved the problem of a ghost he met. Or did he? It was a dream, after all. The next day he meets two women who visit his cabin, arriving out of the blue, literally. (Well, one arrived with pitched black darkness which filled his cabin and made her cough.) These two have an offer for Stark. All he really wanted was to enjoy the small cabin and solitude so he could write his detective stories. These...

They call me Mysti. Because of my mystic origins. The beings who raised me almost killed me before they found out my real value. They became my mentors, and then - as my powers expanded - my servants. What they never knew is that "mystic" means both master and novice. So, I left them to find someone who could actually teach me balance between the two extremes that lived inside me. And, like a double-edged sword, could cut both ways. And, like...

An old clock tower, with an unsolved death, that the ghost still haunted. Once a year she appeared. Right on the calendar date of her death. Not that she wasn't also seen during the day, some rumors said, but that was a real person. A flesh version. Who was also haunted by the mysterious death. The mystery was, who pushed the young woman, or did she simply slip? Why the lights in the upper bell tower, and why three of them? Too many for a single...

"John, I just met a ghost who's dying."I raised one eyebrow, waiting for the punchline from my favorite time-bender."No, it's not what you think. I haven't gone off the deep end. The government made him into something they call a ghost.""Figure if the government's involved, then it's going to be screwed up... But a ghost - dying?""Running out of juice, actually. Kept alive on some sort of weird life support that he won't fix to save himself.""Suicidal?""No,...

Fiction is stranger than Fact, but also father and mother to it. From the archives of the Ghost Hunters Library, here a classic tale of an amateur paranormal enthusiast who happens on a solution to nagging ghost infestations. This tale of his runaway success, the perils of being too effective, and exacting revenge against a greedy sanitarium owner for non-payment of services rendered. Exciting and humorous, sit back and enjoy this short tale of...

I was walking in my pasture one sunny afternoon, when a pair of hands pulled me into the underworld. Once I arrived, I relaxed, a bit. Because it was an old friend. Carol. A time-bender and now a Lazurai as well. Meaning she could walk through rock, and other things. "Hi John. How have you been?" Carol was standing in front of a crystal fireplace, warming herself from the magma heat that was channeled out of the earth's core. "Not bad, Carol....

In the days when people were owned by the land, two young girls found their power by becoming ghosts, then spirit guides. This is their origin-story... Their parents were serfs, and belonged to two different dukedoms. Falling in love endangered them both. Becoming pregnant with twins made this even worse. Their Dad had to raise them by himself, as Mother died shortly after birthing them. But her spirit remained on Earth to watch over them. Sal and...

Facing a fireball storm and living to tell about it wasn't in John's plans for the day. But when he and his two female spirit guides were caught behind a red subcompact taking hit after hit of fireballs, someone had to do something. Because they could only keep taking those hits for so long. Something in what he said made one of the girls step up and get the attention of whoever was throwing those fireballs at them. A distraction long enough for...

Two Months of Published Short Stories in One Collected Volume Featuring original works by S. H. Marpel and J. R. Kruze This anthology contains: By S. H. Marpel: Ghost Hunters When Fireballs Collide Why Vampires Suck At Haunting The Haunted Ghost Ghost Exterminators Inc. Two Ghost's Salvation 01-04 By J. R. Kruze The Autists Excerpt from "When Fireballs Collide": AND THERE CAME ANOTHER ONE. BAM! Right against the car we were crouched behind....

When the hamburgers all disappeared, along with the buns I was warming, I thought I was seeing things. But when my spatula went through the cast-iron grill top - I had to let it go out of reflex. No way was I going after it. I'd been burned too many times. It wasn't like I had a choice after that. Because the grill itself dropped out through the bottom of the rolling coach we were cooking out of that summer. I looked up at Hami, my order-taker,...