Ghosts Are Weird

By Dean Wesley Smith

Six really, really, really weird ghost stories from the different worlds of USA Today bestselling writer, Dean Wesley Smith. In this volume, Dean presents varied ghost stories that show a bunch of different sides of being a ghost.

Includes:

"A Vanilla Three-Way with a Cherry"

"The Last Burp of a Very Good Woman"

"Growing Pains of the Dead"

"Our Slaying Song Tonight"

"Blind Date"

"The Yellow of the Flickering Past"

You love different ghost stories, you love slightly twisted plots? Dean gives you both layered on thick in this amazingly fun volume that goes far beyond bump in the night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WMG Publishing
• Release date: Nov 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201234973

Dean Wesley Smith

Considered one of the most prolific writers working in modern fiction, USA TODAY bestselling writer, Dean Wesley Smith published far over a hundred novels in forty years, and hundreds of short stories across many genres. He currently produces novels in four major series, including the time travel Thunder Mountain novels set in the old west, the galaxy-spanning Seeders Universe series, the urban fantasy Ghost of a Chance series, and the superhero series staring Poker Boy. During his career he also wrote a couple dozen Star Trek novels, the only two original Men in Black novels, Spider-Man and X-Men novels, plus novels set in gaming and television worlds.

Book preview

Ghosts Are Weird

Ghosts Are Weird

Six Really, Really, Really Whacked Out Ghost Stories

Dean Wesley Smith

WMG Publishing, Inc.

Contents

Introduction

A Vanilla Three-Way with a Cherry

Introduction

A Vanilla Three-Way with a Cherry

The Last Burp of a Very Good Woman

Introduction

The Last Burp of a Very Good Woman

Growing Pains of the Dead

Introduction

Growing Pains of the Dead

Our Slaying Song Tonight

Introduction

Our Slaying Song Tonight

Blind Date

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The Yellow of the Flickering Past

Introduction

The Yellow of the Flickering Past

Also by Dean Wesley Smith

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About the Author

Introduction

Six Really, Really, Really Whacked Out Ghost Stories

I really love ghost stories, but none of my stories are traditional ghost stories in any way. I mean, they all have ghosts, sure. I kind of like the idea of people hanging around for a time after the end event, whatever that might be.

In fact, I have created an entire series about ghosts working for the Gods in my Poker Boy universe. The ghosts in that world also tend to really love life, the taste of food, the taste of a good drink, and sex. They crawl around in other people’s heads to help save the person and at times the world.

As I said, not traditional ghosts.

I decided that the best way to show right off how non-traditional these ghosts are is by leading off with A Vanilla Three-Way with a Cherry. It is a story of two young lovers in a 1950s-style restaurant. The ghost of Marilyn Monroe sort of gives them a hand forward.

The Last Burp of a Very Good Woman might be called an unrequited romance, or more like one great friend helping another. You can read it either way.

Growing Pains of the Dead might very well be the closest to a traditional ghost story that I have ever written. Sort of like a ghost growing up and learning about the world. They just do it a little slower is all.

Our Slaying Song Tonight is part of my Jukebox Universe. A time-traveling jukebox often takes the listener of a song back into the memory of the song. But sometimes it pulls a memory of someone else forward. The memory of a murder and a ghost.

Blind Date is the origin story of my Marble Grant stories. Marble Grant, at least by the end of the story, is a ghost. Now she and her partner Sims have many stories and even a novel about them. And at times they have even worked with Poker Boy. Not bad for a couple of dead superheroes.

The last story in the book might be one of my first ghost stories, actually. The Yellow of the Flickering Past, if my memory serves, came from wondering if the yellow oil in theater popcorn can build up over time.

I sure hope you enjoy these very weird ghost stories. Not a one of them is similar to another one in this book. Sort of the way I bet ghosts really are.

---

—Dean Wesley Smith

Las Vegas, Nevada

Introduction

When the ghost of Marilyn Monroe joins you and your girlfriend for a milkshake with a cherry on top, things change in a relationship, sometimes for the better.

Especially when your girlfriend thinks she just might be Norma Jean.

A Vanilla Three-Way with a Cherry

Chapter One

Someone had hung a framed, black-and-white photo of Marilyn Monroe right over the diner’s only urinal. The picture was about a quarter life-sized, which made her a very dominating presence. The bathroom was the standard restaurant bathroom, with a tile floor, metal stall, and painted walls. It was as clean as I had ever seen a bathroom, no graffiti anywhere.

Only Marilyn’s picture.

In the photo Marilyn had turned her shoulders sideways, keeping her face straight and looking over her shoulder. She was wearing a low-cut black evening gown. Real low cut, actually, with the old fifties-style bra cups that looked so sharp they could poke out a guy’s eye if he went in at the wrong angle.

The points on those breasts were right at head level as I stood at the urinal, and for half the piss I couldn’t look at anything else.

Then I glanced up.

Marilyn’s face was framed by light, almost angel-like. She stared down at me, sort of smiling, as if she had known when the picture was taken that some guy would be holding his dick while staring at her tits.

I almost couldn’t finish the job I was there to do.

And, to be honest, after looking into Marilyn’s eyes, I had trouble looking back at her breasts. It just didn’t seem respectful, even though those points were right there in front of me, and she was long dead.

So I kept my neck cranked upward, staring at her perfect face, that I-know-what-you-are-doing-smile, those dark eyes. I have no idea how long I stood there, penis flapping in the air-conditioning, just staring at her. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I had never been attracted to Marilyn before.

Finally, I realized I was finished and managed to pull away from the picture, get myself zipped up, hands washed, and headed out the door.

You all right, baby doll? Betty asked as I slid back into the booth, her gum popping as it often did when she was flustered. Clearly I had been in there with Marilyn for a long time.

Betty and I had been dating for five months, from the moment she had come into my garage to have her classic T-Bird’s transmission fixed. Betty loved anything about the fifties. She kept her blonde hair in the old flipped up way, and often wore fifties-style blouses, poodle skirts, and shoes with white socks. When she dressed like that it made her look one hell of a lot younger than her twenty-eight years.

And hotter.

She also loved Happy Days on television, and any movie set in the fifties, no matter how stupid. I know, because we had watched a bunch of them.

This diner, The Fifties Place, was her favorite restaurant, with its Elvis pictures on the wall, Wurlitzer bubble jukebox, and bright red vinyl booths. But tonight was the first time the Marilyn picture had been in the bathroom. I was pretty sure I would have noticed it before.

The diner seemed busier than it had been when I had gone into the bathroom. And the waitress had already brought us the vanilla milkshake we had