Hollow Heathens (Tales of Weeping Hollow, #1)

by Nicole Fiorina

A father who never visited the daughter who could see the dead when his spirit was the only one I looked for in every room I walked into.

Once the phone lines were back up, I’d made a call to Dr. Morley and forced Gramps out of the house and into the Mini Coop. “What is this? This isn’t a cah, this is a hearse for midgets,”

“Pruitts are good for nuthin’ rantallions—” “Rantallions? What. Are. You. Even. Saying?” “Look it up, why don’t yah, with yah fancy technology!”

Her smile painted my morning in colors

“I don’t like her,” he mumbled from his cracked door. I sighed. “You don’t like anyone.”

I finished the crossword puzzle for Gramps because he couldn’t,