An Agent's Inbox #3

Dear Ms. Sarver,

There are ten rules to ghost hunting and seventeen-year-old Ivory Jack knows them all.

Along with her sisters, Ivory has been kicking ghost a** for a year using her gift as a medium and awesome ghost hunting equipment. They jump at the opportunity to investigate their first paid job, even if it is the most haunted house in Central Illinois. Ivory chalks up the recent deaths in the manor to lack of experience and knowledge, but the job isn’t as simple as it seems.

They are trapped inside by a powerful ghost. Rule Number Nine: ghosts are always attached to an object in the house. If they can find and destroy the object, they are free. The only problem is, they don’t know which spirit it is. As if crazy, agoraphobic ghosts weren’t enough, Ivory’s ex best friend, Roger, manages to get his stupid self stuck inside the house with them. The last thing she needs is him making fun of her while she tries to save everyone’s life. The closer Ivory gets to uncovering the secrets of the manor, the more violent the ghosts become. If she doesn’t find the who behind the haunting, the entire group could end up being the manor’s next victims.

NANCY DREW meets GHOST HUNTERS in my novel MOTHER MAY I. It is a young adult horror mystery novel complete at 60,000 words. I was part of a paranormal investigator club at the University of Illinois, and was able to add my knowledge of ghost hunting to the story. I saw on Literary Rambles: Agent Spotlight, that you are searching for young adult horror and thought my novel might appeal to you.

Thank You for Your Time,
J.M.


MOTHER MAY I

I ignore the ‘No Trespassing’ sign and step over the low chain fence blocking the back access road. Everyone and their dog (and I literally mean their dog) knows that Mr. Tompson doesn’t care who walks down the gravel lane near his field. The moon is huge and orange in the sky, illuminating the vast expanse of empty cornfields.

Harvest season has suddenly become my least favorite time of year. Now that people at school know I can talk to ghosts, they all want me to do some pre-Halloween investigation. So instead of baking pumpkin pie and watching scary movies, I am up until the a**-crack of dawn trying to find somewhere haunted around Charon so the popular kids can throw a Halloween kegger at a genuine haunted house. Not exactly my idea of fun, especially since I know I won’t be invited.

“Are you guys coming or what?” I ask.

“J****, Ivory, don’t rush us. We don’t want to damage any of the equipment,” my youngest sister, Vi, says.

“I just stepped in dog s***. Freaking disgusting,” my other sister, Addie, groans and lugs a heavy camera case over the fence.

I shake my head and look down the long road. Rumor has it that the entire lane is haunted by the devil himself. Somehow, I very much doubt that is true, but the biggest stoner in school paid me fifty bucks to check the lane for ghosts and demons. I didn’t bother mentioning ghosts can’t haunt roads, they can only habitat structures. That is Rule Number One of ghost hunting.