Lesbian Ghost Hunters series, now in one convenient package! Buying these 9 novelettes separately would cost over $20 -- but now you can have them for just $9.99!

When a beautiful young maid is being menaced by a ghost, there’s nothing she can do except lie back and enjoy it—until what she fears the most happens: they’re caught. Mysterious, dark-eyed R.J. knows exactly what’s happening to her. But she also knows exactly how to deal with it...

R.J. is a ghost hunter, and she has a particular way of dealing with ghosts--you have to give them release. The two of them soon find themselves on a cross-country roadtrip full of beautiful and dangerous women, love, lust, and--most of all--sex.

Included in this omnibus are all 9 novelettes:

Wake-Up Call (#1)
Carnival Games (#2)
Nursing Wounds (#3)
Nun Too Gently (#4)
Tied in Knots (#5)
The Road to Hell (#6)
High Spirits (#7)
Club Dead (#8)
The Ghost of a Chance (#9)

...plus a bonus short story about the ghost hunters!

This novel is intended for mature audiences.

BONUS STORY: The Spirit of the Forest

Molly and R.J. visit a national park and meet an absentminded “daughter of the forest.”


Xylia sang for us as the moon rose, a form of entertainment that I was so eager to stop that I nearly kissed her just so her mouth would be occupied with something else. I think R.J. had the same idea, because as one song finally petered to a close, she slipped a finger under one of Xylia’s ghostly hemp bracelets and said in a low tone, “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Do you want to hear anoth—?”

“How about we dance for the moon goddess now?” I said, jumping out of my seat. I didn’t think I could stand to hear another verse.

I stripped out of my T-shirt as fast as I could, tossing it aside. My pants quickly followed it, as did my socks and shoes, until I stood shivering in the blue light of the ghost lamp. R.J. raised her eyebrows at me, smirking, and I flushed. I’d never been so eager to get naked before, and I knew she knew it.

“What do you think, goddess?” asked R.J., her tone smooth as honey as she brushed her fingers over Xylia’s hand. “Shall we dance for you?”

The ghost hunters take their apprentice to the hottest club in town—one where hunters and ghosts intermingle. The atmosphere is overwhelming, but more overwhelming are the tensions rising between R.J. and Valentine. And the new girl can’t help, since she’s the reason everything is falling apart...  


Dancing wasn’t my strongest suit. I was more of a bob in place kind of girl. I learned how to grapevine in middle school and I’ve hung on to that skill like a lifeline. 

Valentine pulled me about halfway into the crowd, to a place where we could dance without too much extra contact. Drink in one hand, she put the other on my waist, and pulled me into her, her hips moving sinuously against mine. I tried to match her rhythm but couldn’t. I sloshed half of my drink over my hand before I managed to pull away. Valentine shook her head and leaned in close to me. 

“Close your eyes,” she yelled. “And pretend you’re having sex!” 

I looked at her dubiously, but she gave me such an insistent look that I sighed and did as she said. 

I closed my eyes and let my head loll back, feeling the heat of the room press itself in on my body. I felt the brush of Valentine’s hands on my hips as she moved to stand behind me, pressing the length of her body into my back. Her hands pressed my hips, gently but insistently, and slowly I picked up the rhythm, my hips and waist making languorous figure eights in time with her own. It did feel like sex—matching her rhythm like that, her warmth pressed against me, moving in time. 

This 10,000 word novelette is intended for mature audiences.

The new ghost hunter is finally starting to settle in to her surroundings. She is starting to hear the Call, just like R.J. and Valentine, and her new ink brands her as part of the counter-culture she has joined. But when the ghost hunters delve into another new world, one of drugs and delinquency, she might be out of her depth again...


“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Valentine. My hand was clasped in hers. She hadn’t let go yet, though I knew my palm was sweaty with nervousness and fear. “There’s still time to back out.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m sure,” I told her. I looked at the girl sitting on my other side. “Do it.”

I could feel the buzz of the tattoo gun all through my body, the vibrations reverberating into my core as the needle pierced my skin in a thousand tiny pinpricks. Though I started by gritting my teeth against the pain, I soon found that I was clenching my jaw for another reason entirely. The hard plastic seat seemed to amplify and redirect the vibration. I squirmed in my seat.

“Be still,” said Valentine, still holding my hand. I looked up at her in agony and she winked. She knew exactly how it felt. She traced her fingers along the back of my hand. My skin tingled under her touch.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to forget the sensation, but it was too strong to block out. As the tattoo artist worked, my discomfort grew, until I realized that I was rocking my hips in place ever-so-slightly against the plastic seat.

Valentine climbed onto the chair, straddling my hips. She put her hands on my chest and grinned as my eyes flew open. The tattoo artist didn’t even blink an eye. “If you won’t stay still, I’ll have to keep you still.”

This 9,000 word novelette is intended for mature audiences.

The students at Lake Eerie University are used to strange classmates. There are plenty of half-human creatures that roam the university halls, from fae to satyrs, sirens to centaurs. But the strangest—at least in Hanna’s mind—are the trolls. The trolls are brash and forward—two things shy little Hanna could never be. They tower over her in a way that makes her human instincts want to scream and run in fear—but intrigues her all the same. And when one of the trolls takes a particular interest in Hanna, she finds that fear makes an excellent aphrodisiac…


I can barely look my friends in the eye, let alone a stranger. And the first time I saw him, the first day of the semester, he walked straight up to me and stood so close that I could feel the heat of his body. He towered over me, my eyes barely hitting the middle of his chest. He didn’t say anything. Just stared down at me with such intensity that I could practically feel my heart stop in my chest. I froze, like a rabbit, or a baby deer, caught in his gaze, unable to move, unable to run, though I felt like there was a freight train bearing down on me.

Then he had laughed, deep in his throat, and left. I had sat down in the middle of the hallway, the cobblestone floor cold on the back of my legs, somehow both exhausted and terrified by the experience. Joy had to pull me up off the floor. I couldn’t stand on my own.

“What was that?” I had cried, feeling like I’d been violated right there in the hall.

Joy just shrugged. “They’re all like that,” she told me, meaning trolls. “He likes you. That’s how they show it.”

“But what do I do?”

Joy’s wings fluttered slightly, like they always did when she was choosing her words carefully.

“Don’t walk down any dark hallways alone,” she said, finally.

This 10,000 word novelette is intended for mature audiences.

Lesbian Ghost Hunters: Book #9
The Ghost of a Chance

After Valentine leaves her alone and lonely on the steps of the club, the new ghost hunter begins to question everything about her new life. Luckily R.J. is there, to remind her why she started in the first place...


The bar was as busy as it had been when we arrived. The place was awash in a ghostly blue light, the music thumping loud enough that I could feel it reverberating in my bones. The dance floor pulsed with bodies. Every table was full, and the bars were lined with people waiting for cocktails.

R.J. led me to the bar, her hand around my waist so she wouldn’t lose me in the crowd. She leaned over the metal bar and yelled so the bartender would hear her over the noise.

I watched the crowd, watched the humans and ghosts intermingled on the dance floor. Since R.J. had made me a ghost hunter—or an apprentice at least—I found I could see things I hadn’t seen before, without even trying. I could point out more than two dozen ghosts on the dance floor without even trying. And I could see ghost hunters. They had a look about them, once you knew how to look. There was no uniform, though most seemed to be fans of tattoos and piercings and colorful hair. But it was the attitude that gave them away. They carried themselves with a devil-may-care grace. They were confident and concise. They looked like they could kick the crap out of you or kiss you raw, and it would be a hard toss to decide which one would be more pleasurable. They looked like they knew what they were doing. Once you knew how to look, you could see them from a mile away.

I wanted to look like that.

This 10,000 word novelette is intended for mature audiences.

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