Incorporeal Read Free

guest. “Nah, that’s sweet, but no thanks. I have to come up with some excuse to skip work on Friday, and if I’m going to put a professional package together for Leah Rosen, well, I’d better get to work on it.”
    “ Okay.” Dalton leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You let me know if you need any help, even if all you need is moral support. You call me any time. Bye”
    “ I will. Bye, Dalton.” Sara waited to pull away until her friend had unlocked her front door and disappeared inside, a holdover from her childhood. Whenever her father had brought her home after one of their weekends together, he’d wait until she’d unlocked the front door and waved goodbye. Sara knew he wouldn’t leave until she’d closed the door behind her. Her father had loved her. Sara had never once doubted her father.
    Maybe dad sent my ghost. Yeah, right. And I’m the president of the United States. No, he’s nothing more than a sticky ghost and for some reason, which he either refuses to explain or can’t explain; he’s stuck to me.
    Forget the ghost, what about Leah Rosen? Geez, that’s a scary thought, me meeting with Leah Rosen. That frightens me far more than being haunted. Sara shook her head. I have to show her my best, nothing less will do . This might be my only chance to meet with a New York publisher face to face. And if she’d actually read my stuff? Wow.
    Sara hadn’t approached an agent or a publisher in months. After two years of failed queries, she’d pretty much given up hope that someone would bother to read a single sentence of her work, let alone take her seriously as a writer.
    Yeah, yeah, yeah. Quit feeling sorry for yourself . Now’s your chance, don’t blow it .
     
     

Chapter Two
     
     
    Sara pulled her car into the garage. As she climbed out of the driver’s seat, her eyes were drawn to the last rays of the setting sun. Scattered clouds reflected gold and peach in a sky the color of a rich Maxfield Parrish blue. Entranced, she stood still and watched.
    Sara sighed. Sometimes a sunset is perfection .
    When the last lingering glow faded from the sky, she turned to shut the garage door. As she approached the front porch, a light blinked on in the house. Damn ghost . She noticed he’d been experimenting with his weird powers lately, trying to see how much his incorporeal self could get away with. He had Sara a little worried. It was one thing to hang out with a talking ghost, but a ghost who could actually do stuff ? That was a horse of a different color. He did enough stuff to her in her dreams, knee-weakening stuff , tingly all over stuff .
    Sara braced herself for the coming encounter. She wanted to enjoy a nice long bath, have a quick bite to eat, edit a few chapters in her new work and get to bed early. Weekends would be as perfect as that sunset if it wasn’t for the Mondays that followed them.
    Sara unlocked the front door and turned the knob. Before she could take a step, it swung wide open and she nearly fell flat on her face.
    “ Hey, ghost, knock it off,” Sara grumbled. Regaining her balance, she shut the door behind her. “Turning on a light is bad enough, but now you can open doors? Keep this up and I’m banishing you to the tool shed.”
    “ A gentleman always opens a door for a lady.”
    “ Oh yeah? Wherever did you get the idea you’re a gentleman?” Sara looked around, trying to locate him.
    Apparently he decided to ignore her insult. “I’m right beside you.”
    “ Do you mean that literally?”
    “ Yes.”
    Sara glanced to the right. He was nothing more than a faint glow. She walked past him, avoiding any hint of contact or interest. As if we can actually make contact .
    Tossing her purse onto the coffee table, she turned to face him, or the middle of the room, or whichever came first. “Listen, Mr. No-Name Ghost, this situation is becoming untenable. You really need to move on.”
    “ I’ve already told you, I can’t.”
    “ Why? Why can’t you