September 29th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance, Supernatural
Everyone in Clarkstown believes they know who killed firefighter Zane Gravenhurst.
His girlfriend, Jillian, sits behind bars, accused of leaving him to die after a rainy night ended in tragedy. The case is all but closed.
Only Zane’s younger sister, Molly, knows the truth isn’t buried because she can communicate with his ghost.
Molly needs help to get justice for her brother.
Her shy neighbor, whom she’s crushed on since high school, Duncan, comes to her aid.
EXCERPT:
Molly
“Molly! Wake up!”
Molly groaned and rolled over to check the red numbers on her bedside clock. She wanted to jump back into the dream she’d been having before the voice rudely awakened her. In that dream, her thoughts lingered on her neighbor, Duncan, the one with the scar etched across his ear. Something in the scene comforted her; she wished to slip back into that warm haze and forget all the chaos that surrounded her.
“It’s five am, Zane. I’m not making you breakfast this early.” Her older brother, Zane, tended to work odd hours as a firefighter, but Molly spent three days climbing out of the grip of the flu going around the high school where she taught theater. She had no desire to indulge her brother’s cravings.
“Molly Gravenhurst. Please wake up. We need to talk,” the new voice pleaded.
The voice of her grandmother, Dawn, reached her foggy brain. Her dead grandmother.
Molly jerked up in bed and focused on the two ghosts that stood at the end. The appearance of her grandmother didn’t surprise her. What her grandmother called her “second sight” made her capable of communication with earthbound spirits. Genuine shock and abject horror slammed into her when she saw her brother, Zane. The night before, he’d been alive and kicking.
“No,” Molly whispered in utter terror. A simple, horrifying truth struck her. If her brother were a ghost, then he was dead.
Molly could see ghosts, a gift she possessed since toddlerhood. Three years ago, when her grandmother died, she and Zane inherited her house and the care of their grandmother’s ghost. While he lived, Grandma Dawn’s ghost remained invisible to Zane. Now, a ghost himself, he could finally see her.
“I know this is a shock, Molly, but Zane needs you to pull yourself together.” Grandma Dawn’s tone snapped Molly out of her silence.
“Wha-wha-what happened, Zane?” Molly fisted her blanket while she tried to gather herself.
“Jillian dropped me off at Paddy’s. He wanted to continue the Halloween party back at his house. After Paddy and I walked into the garage, everything is blank. I appeared in the kitchen here, where I found Grandma.” Zane spoke with clinical precision, not an ounce of emotion. She understood the pain of death since she dealt with the pain ghosts experienced every day.
“Where’s Jillian?” Molly grabbed her cell phone from her bedside table. “I need to call her.”
“She’s asleep on the sofa.” Zane’s voice cracked at the end of his statement. “I just peeked for a second. I can’t go …I don’t …”
Grandma Dawn took Zane’s hand in hers in a gesture of comfort and compassion.
Molly struggled with what to do next. She’d barely adjusted to her grandmother’s death. How could she live without her brother’s hugs, his teasing slaps, or witnessing his love and devotion for Jillian?
“What do I need to do?” Grandma Dawn died in her sleep. She found her in the primary bedroom of the very house she lived in. Where was Zane’s body? If it were at Paddy’s house, Paddy would have called her by now? He was Zane’s best friend. He’d had her number since the day she got it thirteen years ago.
Before Zane or Grandma Dawn had a chance to answer, Jillian burst into Molly’s attic space.
“You’re awake. Thank God.” She burst into the room and threw herself onto Molly’s bed, her blonde hair pulled back into a crooked ponytail. “Zane hasn’t come home yet. It’s still pouring outside. Visibility is shit. What if he got in an accident? What if he and Paddy are in a ditch? What if he tried to walk home and got hit by a car? I’ve called him five times and texted him six times. He hasn’t responded.”
Jillian’s frantic questions made sense, but she couldn’t confirm anything because she didn’t know whether any of those possibilities were correct. Neither did either of the ghosts.
“Let’s think.” Molly pushed away the knowledge of her brother’s death and gathered her thoughts. “You all went to that big Halloween party downtown, right?”
“Yeah. Paddy invited a bunch of us over to his house, but I told Zane I needed sleep. My sinuses have been getting worse. I think I caught whatever you have.” Congestion clogged Jillian’s voice, and tears or illness left her eyes red and bloodshot. Molly’s heart sank. The same symptoms had stalked her for the past several days.
“You dropped him off at Paddy and Lucky’s house, then?”
Jillian nodded. “It started to rain a few minutes before I got here. Now it’s pouring.”
“Let’s call Paddy first. Who else came to the party?” Molly scrolled through her numbers in her contacts to find Paddy’s number.
“Barb Sterling and her husband, Rhett.” Jillian dialed the number on speaker. “Then Marty and Ellen Culver. Maybe Grant Hannah. I think Paddy’s little brothers and a bunch of their friends were in town and staying with him for a while.” Voicemail answered after five rings. “It’s Jillian and Molly. Zane isn’t home. Is he with you, or do you have any idea where he went? Call me.”
“I’ve got Barb’s number.” Molly dialed and placed it on speaker.
“Molly?” Barb answered with a yawn. “What’s going on? It’s the butt crack of dawn.”
“Zane never came home from Paddy’s last night. Did he stay over? We can’t contact Zane or Paddy.”
“Wait a minute.” The sound of sheets and blankets shifting came through the speaker. “Jillian’s car pulled up outside Paddy’s house, but neither of them came in. I tried calling and texting Zane after her car left, but I never got an answer. We left here around two.”
“We need to look for him. I dropped him off and came back to his house,” Jillian’s voice carried extreme anxiety, burgeoning into mania.
“Jillian?” Barb yawned again on her end.
“What’s going on?” Molly heard a sleepy Rhett ask on the other end of the line.
“Jillian said she dropped Zane off at Paddy’s. I never saw him, did you?” Barb asked her husband.
“No. I thought it was weird you said you saw Jillian’s car, but they didn’t come in. But I started singing karaoke with Marty and lost track of everything.” Molly imagined the sound of strangled cats coming from Marty. None of Zane’s friends had a lick of musical or theatrical talent as she did.
Every wasted second ratcheted up Molly’s anxiety. They were no closer to answers. She looked to Zane for any suggestions while Jillian threw out scenarios left and right. Zane shrugged as he watched his girlfriend torment herself with grim what-ifs.
Barb decided she would come pick up Jillian, and they would search around town. Molly agreed to stay home in case Zane made his way back.
Molly knew for an absolute fact that November 1st would be the worst day of her life.
Molly groaned and rolled over to check the red numbers on her bedside clock. She wanted to jump back into the dream she’d been having before the voice rudely awakened her. In that dream, her thoughts lingered on her neighbor, Duncan, the one with the scar etched across his ear. Something in the scene comforted her; she wished to slip back into that warm haze and forget all the chaos that surrounded her.
“It’s five am, Zane. I’m not making you breakfast this early.” Her older brother, Zane, tended to work odd hours as a firefighter, but Molly spent three days climbing out of the grip of the flu going around the high school where she taught theater. She had no desire to indulge her brother’s cravings.
“Molly Gravenhurst. Please wake up. We need to talk,” the new voice pleaded.
The voice of her grandmother, Dawn, reached her foggy brain. Her dead grandmother.
Molly jerked up in bed and focused on the two ghosts that stood at the end. The appearance of her grandmother didn’t surprise her. What her grandmother called her “second sight” made her capable of communication with earthbound spirits. Genuine shock and abject horror slammed into her when she saw her brother, Zane. The night before, he’d been alive and kicking.
“No,” Molly whispered in utter terror. A simple, horrifying truth struck her. If her brother were a ghost, then he was dead.
Molly could see ghosts, a gift she possessed since toddlerhood. Three years ago, when her grandmother died, she and Zane inherited her house and the care of their grandmother’s ghost. While he lived, Grandma Dawn’s ghost remained invisible to Zane. Now, a ghost himself, he could finally see her.
“I know this is a shock, Molly, but Zane needs you to pull yourself together.” Grandma Dawn’s tone snapped Molly out of her silence.
“Wha-wha-what happened, Zane?” Molly fisted her blanket while she tried to gather herself.
“Jillian dropped me off at Paddy’s. He wanted to continue the Halloween party back at his house. After Paddy and I walked into the garage, everything is blank. I appeared in the kitchen here, where I found Grandma.” Zane spoke with clinical precision, not an ounce of emotion. She understood the pain of death since she dealt with the pain ghosts experienced every day.
“Where’s Jillian?” Molly grabbed her cell phone from her bedside table. “I need to call her.”
“She’s asleep on the sofa.” Zane’s voice cracked at the end of his statement. “I just peeked for a second. I can’t go …I don’t …”
Grandma Dawn took Zane’s hand in hers in a gesture of comfort and compassion.
Molly struggled with what to do next. She’d barely adjusted to her grandmother’s death. How could she live without her brother’s hugs, his teasing slaps, or witnessing his love and devotion for Jillian?
“What do I need to do?” Grandma Dawn died in her sleep. She found her in the primary bedroom of the very house she lived in. Where was Zane’s body? If it were at Paddy’s house, Paddy would have called her by now? He was Zane’s best friend. He’d had her number since the day she got it thirteen years ago.
Before Zane or Grandma Dawn had a chance to answer, Jillian burst into Molly’s attic space.
“You’re awake. Thank God.” She burst into the room and threw herself onto Molly’s bed, her blonde hair pulled back into a crooked ponytail. “Zane hasn’t come home yet. It’s still pouring outside. Visibility is shit. What if he got in an accident? What if he and Paddy are in a ditch? What if he tried to walk home and got hit by a car? I’ve called him five times and texted him six times. He hasn’t responded.”
Jillian’s frantic questions made sense, but she couldn’t confirm anything because she didn’t know whether any of those possibilities were correct. Neither did either of the ghosts.
“Let’s think.” Molly pushed away the knowledge of her brother’s death and gathered her thoughts. “You all went to that big Halloween party downtown, right?”
“Yeah. Paddy invited a bunch of us over to his house, but I told Zane I needed sleep. My sinuses have been getting worse. I think I caught whatever you have.” Congestion clogged Jillian’s voice, and tears or illness left her eyes red and bloodshot. Molly’s heart sank. The same symptoms had stalked her for the past several days.
“You dropped him off at Paddy and Lucky’s house, then?”
Jillian nodded. “It started to rain a few minutes before I got here. Now it’s pouring.”
“Let’s call Paddy first. Who else came to the party?” Molly scrolled through her numbers in her contacts to find Paddy’s number.
“Barb Sterling and her husband, Rhett.” Jillian dialed the number on speaker. “Then Marty and Ellen Culver. Maybe Grant Hannah. I think Paddy’s little brothers and a bunch of their friends were in town and staying with him for a while.” Voicemail answered after five rings. “It’s Jillian and Molly. Zane isn’t home. Is he with you, or do you have any idea where he went? Call me.”
“I’ve got Barb’s number.” Molly dialed and placed it on speaker.
“Molly?” Barb answered with a yawn. “What’s going on? It’s the butt crack of dawn.”
“Zane never came home from Paddy’s last night. Did he stay over? We can’t contact Zane or Paddy.”
“Wait a minute.” The sound of sheets and blankets shifting came through the speaker. “Jillian’s car pulled up outside Paddy’s house, but neither of them came in. I tried calling and texting Zane after her car left, but I never got an answer. We left here around two.”
“We need to look for him. I dropped him off and came back to his house,” Jillian’s voice carried extreme anxiety, burgeoning into mania.
“Jillian?” Barb yawned again on her end.
“What’s going on?” Molly heard a sleepy Rhett ask on the other end of the line.
“Jillian said she dropped Zane off at Paddy’s. I never saw him, did you?” Barb asked her husband.
“No. I thought it was weird you said you saw Jillian’s car, but they didn’t come in. But I started singing karaoke with Marty and lost track of everything.” Molly imagined the sound of strangled cats coming from Marty. None of Zane’s friends had a lick of musical or theatrical talent as she did.
Every wasted second ratcheted up Molly’s anxiety. They were no closer to answers. She looked to Zane for any suggestions while Jillian threw out scenarios left and right. Zane shrugged as he watched his girlfriend torment herself with grim what-ifs.
Barb decided she would come pick up Jillian, and they would search around town. Molly agreed to stay home in case Zane made his way back.
Molly knew for an absolute fact that November 1st would be the worst day of her life.
About the Author:
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Lindsey Gray is a writer, an over-thinker, and a chronic list-maker, but her passion for writing stories you'll love always tops the list. Her author journey began in 2010 with the publication of her first novel, and she has spent the last decade creating worlds for readers to play in. In addition to her own work, Gray uses her skills in novel formatting for other authors and hosts the weekly show Gray Matters on TMV Cafe Internet Radio. She lives and writes fueled by iced tea, her handsome hubby, and the beautiful chaos of mothering her children.
Website-FB-Instagram
TikTok-X-BlueSky
Thread-Bookbub-Bookhype
Tumblr-StoryGraph-
Goodreads-Amazon
Lindsey Gray is a writer, an over-thinker, and a chronic list-maker, but her passion for writing stories you'll love always tops the list. Her author journey began in 2010 with the publication of her first novel, and she has spent the last decade creating worlds for readers to play in. In addition to her own work, Gray uses her skills in novel formatting for other authors and hosts the weekly show Gray Matters on TMV Cafe Internet Radio. She lives and writes fueled by iced tea, her handsome hubby, and the beautiful chaos of mothering her children.
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