One Grave at a Time - A Night Huntress Novel By Jeaniene Frost

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author 
JEANIENE FROST lives with her husband and their very 
spoiled dog. Although not a vampire herself, she confesses 
to having pale skin, wearing a lot of black, and sleeping in 
late whenever possible. And while she can’t see ghosts, 
she loves to walk through old cemeteries. Jeaniene also 
loves poetry and animals, but fears children and hates to 
cook. She is currently at work on the next novel in her 
bestselling Night Huntress series.

From the book

I crumpled up the invoice in front of me, not throwing it away
only because it wasn’t the minister’s fault that burying Don’s
ashes in hallowed ground didn’t do jack toward sending my
uncle to the Great Beyond. We’d now tried everything that
our friends—alive, undead, or otherwise—had suggested
to get my uncle to cross from this plane to the next one.
None of it worked, as evidenced by Don pacing next to me,
his feet not quite touching the floor.
His frustration was understandable. When you died,
unless that was just a precursor to changing into a vampire
or ghoul, you rather expected not to be stuck on earth
anymore. Yeah, I’d been around ghosts before—a lot lately
—but considering the number of people who died
compared to the number of ghosts that existed, the odds of
getting your Casper on were less than one percent. Yet my
uncle seemed to be stuck in this rare between-worlds
stasis whether he liked it or not. For someone who had
been almost Machiavellian in his ability to manipulate
circumstances, his current helplessness had to rankle that
much more.
“We’ll try something else,” I offered, mustering up a false
smile. “Hey, you’re a pro at overcoming insurmountable
odds. You managed to keep Americans from finding out
about the supernatural world despite complications like cell
phone video, the Internet, and YouTube. You’ll find a way to
move on.”
My attempt at cheerfulness only earned me a baleful
look. “Fabian never found a way to cross over,” Don
muttered, a swipe of his hand indicating my ghostly friend
who lurked just outside my office. “Neither did any of the
countless others who’ve found their way to you since you’ve
become a spook magnet.”

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