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    I Can See Right Through You
    I Can See Right Through You
    I Can See Right Through You
    Ebook69 pages40 minutes

    I Can See Right Through You

    By Zahra Owens

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    About this ebook

    When Lander’s Great Aunt Angie is shipped off to a convalescent home, she asks him to house-sit. Soon enough he finds out why: she wants him to keep James, a rather attractive and benevolent Victorian ghost, company. Their new friendship is threatened when a not-so-benevolent and very menacing burglar breaks into the house, threatening Lander—and the last thing he expects is for James to come to the rescue.

    A part of the Dreamspinner Press 2010 Daily Dose Set, Midsummer's Nightmare which includes 30 M/M stories of supernatural romance that may feature an edge of suspense and heart-pounding fear; a taste of the paranormal worlds of ghosts, vampires, and werewolves; and even the stuff of nightmares and dreamscapes.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDreamspinner Press
    Release dateJun 1, 2010
    ISBN9781615814916
    I Can See Right Through You

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    • 4/5
      I really liked this story about Lander, a writer who house-sits for his great aunt, and James, the Victorian ghost who has lived there for over 150 years.

      When their newly discovered friendship is threatened by a burglar, James comes to the rescue. I can't say anything more without giving away the twist that follows, so I won't. I loved this story from beginning to end. The characters are interesting, the writing is very good and the ending is wonderful. It moves 'at a leisurely pace' and I found it easy to enjoy.

    Book preview

    I Can See Right Through You - Zahra Owens

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    By Zahra Owens

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    I Can See Right Through You

    By Zahra Owens

    When Lander’s Great Aunt Angie is shipped off to a convalescent home, she asks him to house-sit. Soon enough he finds out why: she wants him to keep James, a rather attractive and benevolent Victorian ghost, company. Their new friendship is threatened when a not-so-benevolent and very menacing burglar breaks into the house, threatening Lander—and the last thing he expects is for James to come to the rescue.

    LANDER TOOK off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and stretched his back, reaching his arms as high as he could. He felt his spine crack, and yawned demonstratively. He’d put in a few good hours of writing and for the first time in the last few weeks he felt like he was finally getting some work done.

    Writing for ten-year-olds wasn’t as easy as it sounded. The story had to be educational enough to entice their parents to buy the book without making it too obvious to his readers, who expected a good story with lots of suspense, mystery, and adventure—and a healthy dose of escapism.

    Escapism was just what had brought Lander to this old Victorian house owned by his great-aunt, who’d recently been moved to a convalescent home. He’d needed a nice, quiet place to focus on his writing. Too bad this creaky old house was far from quiet, despite sitting on a hill overlooking the small town below with no neighbors close enough to throw a stone at.

    His first night there, he’d just settled himself on the couch with a good book when he’d heard a commotion upstairs. Despite his somewhat geeky appearance, Lander wasn’t the fearful type. He’d ventured upstairs only to trip over the suitcase he’d deposited there earlier. After struggling off the floor, he’d managed to find the light switch and discovered a window had blown open. After a few days he knew there was something wrong with that particular window because it seemed to open itself of its own accord every time Lander turned his back, including once in the middle of the night… although Lander had told himself it was the howling wind that had made the latch click open.

    The stairs had a knack of creaking and Lander was sure there were mice in the place, although it could have been rats too, something he preferred not to think about. To drown out the noises in the house, Lander got in the habit of turning on the radio as soon as the sun set. It was an ancient thing that had never heard of FM, so the only station he could pick up without too much static was a local classical station that played Mozart and Bach and Handel. Somehow, this helped Lander concentrate. On the few occasions he wanted to return to the twenty-first century, he took out his MP3 player, but then he would never get much writing done.

    He’d just finished a particular hairy chapter, where his protagonist had engaged in a race with his friends through a haunted house while being chased by bloodthirsty ghosts. Now that they were safe again, Lander decided he deserved a cup of tea. He hummed a tune to himself as he filled the kettle and smiled at the noise the old pipes made. This house certainly had its charm, but he doubted he could live there full-time. He was, after all, a city boy, and he thought the quiet of the country would drive him bonkers if he stayed there too long. For now, though, it was the ideal place to write a ghost story.

    Lander dipped the teabag into the scalding hot water until it looked just the right color—still transparent, but a little darker than the average pee—and then grabbed two cookies and his mug before turning around. He almost dropped his cup when he saw a flash of something move past the door to the living room. This was ridiculous. He’d only been there four days and he was already seeing things? With some trepidation, Lander walked from the kitchen into the living room and almost tripped over his own feet.

    In the chair next to the fireplace a young man was sitting with perfect posture, his legs neatly together. His long, dark hair was tied low at his neck and his clothes looked positively ancient.

    Lander was a history major, so he didn’t have a hard time recognizing the clothes as Victorian. He tried to think of a reason the stranger would be walking around in fancy dress, but all he could come up with was that this young man must have gotten lost on his way to a costume party.

    Excuse me? Lander asked. How did you get in here? He was sure he’d closed the front door and as far as he knew, everything else was sealed tighter than a drum.

    The young man looked over at Lander and rose from the seat. Before Lander could

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