Jerri Drennen's New Release: Unearthed!
Uncovering a ghostly secret, one skeleton at a time.
After years of investigating paranormal activity, lead ghost hunter, Jack Trader has little to show until, at an abandoned farm house in the boot-heels of Missouri, he and his partner record the presence of an angry specter. When the time approaches to show their proof, somehow it’s been erased, forcing them back to the house to try and re-film the footage.
Renovations at Lila Monclair’s successful bed & breakfast bring more than dust, noise and boot prints to the halls of the Inn. A ghostly figure, in the form of a mysterious, dark-haired woman in 40’s style dress keeps frightening off guests. As word spreads of the possible haunting, a number of reservations are canceled. Now Lila’s worried she could lose everything.
Jack and Lila are seduced by these star-crossed ghosts, each in search of the other. Together, they play out the nightmare that tore the two soul’s apart more than 70 years ago, while the budding romance between them is threatened by an indiscretion of Jack’s that has Lila questioning if he's even worthy of her love.
“See anything, Jack?” The voice of his partner, Cody McCoy filled his left ear, the Bluetooth-type hardware transmitting with ease. The ultimate goal for his team was to catch sight of an orb of glowing energy, a sure indicator of paranormal activity.
“I’m in the last of the rooms. Give me a second.” Jack moved to the window, his eyes straining to make out anything that wasn’t illuminated by the light’s stream.
He glanced back toward the door.
Nope. Not a thing to indicate a ghost inhabited the house.
Maybe the reports of the old Martin place being haunted were merely rumor—blown out of proportion by a bunch of overzealous, trespassing kids. It’d hardly be the first time, or the last, for that matter. Jack was disappointed all the same. He needed something to film, or they’d have to write off this trip to the boot hills of Missouri as another wild goose chase. Specter, Inc. couldn’t afford many more of those, especially after losing their funding. A disaster he blamed on himself.
Heaving a sigh of frustration, he started for the door. In the middle of the room, a sudden chill engulfed him.
Was it an apparition or a simple draft?
“Cody,” he whispered, “I walked into a cold spot.” The temperature dipped lower, an arctic blast biting into his skin, and the hairs on his nape bristled.
A sharp, almost inaudible voice uttered, Get out.
Heroes packing more than just handguns!