Heart, Haunt, Havoc (The Gideon Testaments, #1)

by Freydís Moon

“And no to the guidelines, I guess. Do your dishes, obviously. No allergies, no partner, no roommate. It’s just me.” “It isn’t,” Colin said, studying the foyer again. “Excuse me?” “Just you,” he rasped, and cleared his throat.

“Are you always this formal…? Because you can say ghost or haunting or… or, fuck, I don’t know, poltergeist.” “Would you prefer—” “Oh my God.”

“Sometimes shame is a lesson. Most of the time, it’s just a way for us to hate ourselves for the things we want.” They shifted their eyes to the door. “What do you know about shame?” “I’m Catholic,” Colin said, matter-of-factly, and braved a touch to Bishop’s knuckles.

“You’re quite the cook,” Colin said. Bishop tipped their face upward. “It’s noodles, cheddar, and bacon,” they said, suspiciously. “Nothing special.” “I watched you season cream with fresh garlic and fold in three different kinds of cheese. Accept the compliment.”

“Deception, dark magic, demonology. Typical marital problems.”

Colin nodded. “Do you happen to like McDonald’s?” “Everyone likes McDonald’s, Colin,” Bishop said, patiently. “Whether they admit it or not.”

“The Catholic church has absolutely put a corpse on trial before. 897, the Vatican versus Pope Formosus. The court dressed him in holy robes, propped him in a chair, and accused him of perjury.”

The divinity thrumming in his runic tattoos made him brave or stupid. Both, perhaps.

“And I didn’t know priests played Weekend at Bernie’s with legitimate dead bodies,” she said, barking out a laugh.