Relics From the Grave

By Minta Monroe

Three terrifying stories about things that lurk in the night

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. M. Kreg Publishing
• Release date: Oct 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393063209

Book preview

Relics from the Grave

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Three Stories

by

Minta Monroe

Table of Contents

The Dogs of Bucharest: Hunting for a lost friend in vampire-land, she finds more than she’d bargained for. 

The Hobnailed Sole:  What if a ghost hitchhiked a ride home with you across the pond? 

Mist Skinner:  What one ghost steals when mist gathers in a hollow of Appalachia. 

The Dogs of Bucharest

TransylvaniaTrekkerGirl: 

Has arrived in vampire land to find Matt and drag him home in time for New Year’s.  Click here to follow her adventure on the count’s blog. 

5 shares, 164 likes.

Comments: 

BuckIJill: Watch your pockets.  Take care of that money we raised for you. 

DocGeek:  Cool.  Change your passwords. 

Ncizrz4u:  seen any vampires yet?

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The Count Resurrects!

Posted by TransylvaniaTrekkerGirl

December 18

I step off the train into pea-soup thick fog.  You may think that’s a cliché, straight out of some horror movie, maybe even the one Matt and I are producing, but I swear it’s true.  My first breath of air tastes like wet dog.  This place looks like some gigantic eraser has smeared out the platform and everything else.

Is that what happened to Matt?  

The taxi driver doesn’t know any English, so I show him the name of the hotel in the guidebook.  He jabbers at me all excited-like.  I guess he doesn’t want to take me there, and I don’t know what I’m going to do, so I start to cry (yeah, I know). 

He must feel sorry for me, ’cause all of a sudden he shrugs and lets me into his car.  It’s about the size of an ATV enclosed in a bubble.  We hit the road, and it’s like living in some wild video game.  Traffic races every which way, and no one can see a thing on account of the fog.  The driver keeps looking out the side window. 

I think I’m going to die. 

Where he finally stops?  It’s in the middle of frikkin’ nowhere.  The fog is even thicker here, curling around in the air like a blanket that wants to smother me.  Oh no, the driver’s going to rob me and dump my body here.  One more stupid tourist disappearing and nobody will ever miss me. 

I throw him a wad of leis from the ATM and jump out of the cab with my roller bag as fast as I can.  I stumble backwards, and the ground tilts beneath me.  I land