Alma's Grace: A Short Story: Ghost Walkers, #1

By Alexandria Blaelock

What's scarier than living with ghosts?
In a world where ghosts exist, only Ghost Walkers can walk among them unharmed.
Prince Indulf called. Alma answered. Is on her way to Court. In his flying carriage. Taking her Ghost Walking abilities with her.
But Royal Protocol is a whole other universe.
A fantastical tale of castles, ghosts, and finding your place in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BlueMere Books
• Release date: Aug 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781925749236

Alexandria Blaelock

Alexandria Blaelock writes stories, some of them for Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and Pulphouse Fiction Magazine. She's also written four self-help books applying business techniques to personal matters like getting dressed, cleaning house, and feeding your friends. As a recovering Project Manager, she’s probably too fond of sticking to plan. She lives in a forest because she enjoys birdsong, the scent of gum leaves and the sun on her face. When not telecommuting to parallel universes from her Melbourne based imagination, she watches K-dramas, talks to animals, and drinks Campari. At the same time. Discover more at www.alexandriablaelock.com.

Book preview

ALMA’S GRACE

Alma shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

It wasn’t that the white and gold coach was uncomfortable, because it was supremely comfortable given they were flying through the air.

She just felt awkward and out of place.

Partly because the gold was real gold, and partly because even the pure white quarter horses had looked down on her.

Literally and figuratively.

She inhaled the scent of butter-soft leather seats and wondered again, what strange circumstances had led her to a seat in Prince Indulf’s coach, flying through the nebulous clouds of ghosts in the night sky.

The sound of the bells on the horse collars was deafening.

Were they to tell people for miles around to get out of the Prince’s way, or to keep the ghosts and demons at a distance?

Or simply to prevent gossip in the coach? 

Her chaperone seemed entirely at ease, but as a Court Lady, coach rides were probably something she did every other day.

Maybe every day, or several times a day.

Under the guise of stretching, Alma wiped her sweaty palms down her homespun woollen dress, hoping the Lady wouldn’t know what she was doing.

Notwithstanding flying coaches, this Royal Protocol thing was a whole other universe.

She’d climbed unassisted into the coach, only aware that she’d erred