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    Let the Good Times Roll
    Let the Good Times Roll
    Let the Good Times Roll
    Ebook109 pages1 hour

    Let the Good Times Roll

    By Missouri Dalton

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    About this ebook

    Working at the Sauvageau estate was never part of Lu's life plan, but when she was forced to drop out of college after a nervous break down she needed a job and she didn't want to go back home to Dad. It wasn't just stress that caused her break though, it was the ghosts. The power she'd tried to push came roaring back and while the estate isn't exactly ghost free, at least most of the spirits are friendly.

    But not all of the estate's ghosts are Casper, and when blood is spilled on the grounds, the darker spirits begin to emerge and an old pattern starts up again. While the estate's new owner, Jasper Savage, brings in a host of psychics to take a look at the place, Lu tries to keep her distance. But when an old boyfriend is murdered on the grounds and her friends are put into danger she finds herself drawn into the fray. Lu is going to have to tap into her powers and get to the heart of the estate's spirits before she and the other psychics end up as the estate's latest ghosts.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMissouri Dalton
    Release dateSep 13, 2015
    ISBN9781310814815
    Let the Good Times Roll
    Author

    Missouri Dalton

    Missouri Dalton is a writer of horror/paranormal contemporary fantasy and alternate historical novels. Missouri was raised mainly in transit, slowed down to finish school in one place and was then determined to be as nomadic as possible, if only because that's how things just worked out. She uses writing as an escape from her own neurosi and currently lives with her dear friend Sophia.

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      Book preview

      Let the Good Times Roll - Missouri Dalton

      Let the Good Times Roll

      By Missouri Dalton

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2015 Missouri Dalton

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Chapter One

      New Orleans is my home. It’s where my daddy was born. Where my family has lived—on my father’s side—for generations. I work as a tour guide at the Sauvageau family mansion. It was supposed to be haunted—and let me tell you, that ain’t the half of it.

      This city is a ghost’s paradise. We’ve got tombs and mansions and all sorts of places they hang out. Believe me. See, ever since I was a little girl I could see them. More often than not, it’s a pain in the ass.

      They tend to fall into three categories: the Relivers—they don’t really even know they’re dead, the Friendly—now they generally just want to say hullo, play the piano or innocent games of throw rolls at the girl that sees ghosts, not a big deal, and at the more intrusive end of the spectrum we have the Destructive. Like poltergeists. They’re the ones I avoid.

      The Relivers ignore me and the Friendly, well; I tend to chat with them if they feel the urge. Talking to the dead hadn’t become a thing as it were, until I got into college. I mean, it was when I was a kid for a long time. Then I tried to pretend with some success that I couldn’t see or hear the things I saw and heard—and then I discovered that stress, new people and a college campus full of spirits were just the thing to kick my gift back into gear.

      I had a small nervous breakdown and dropped out of college.

      Which is why I am now a tour guide, being little qualified for much else and having no inclination to work in retail or food service. Yeah, the job had its moments and sometimes I wore a silly hat and days I wore a bona fide dress, one of those Southern Belle ensembles with a parasol. It made me look damn ridiculous.

      Not as ridiculous as my name though. My name is Lux, Lux Kaname Felix. My dad you see, he’s a professor of archaeology at Louisiana State. He wanted me to dig in the ground too, but things you dug out of the ground tended to have dead people attached to them. Lots and lots of dead people.

      Defan Mamere wasn’t disappointed in me—but then she was dead. It was easy not to be disappointed when you were dead. I did miss her. She was one of the few dead people I didn’t converse with any more. She gave me my middle name after her side of the family. Japanese in case you missed that part.

      "Qui c’est q'ca? Do my eyes deceive me? Is that little Lulu?"

      I groaned, and rolled my eyes—immediately wishing I wasn’t wearing the damn dress. Hello Tommy.

      I turned around to face the man—a greasy haired boug that I used to date. Once I realized it wasn’t going farther than him feeling me up and trying to get my pants off--I dumped him. He seemed to be holding back laughter. I was holding back from popping him on the nose.

      Wow Lulu, you look—wow.

      I blinked a couple of times, gripping the handle of my parasol tightly. Listen here Tommy Lafontaine, you get yourself out of here before I punch you in the nose.

      He laughed, You’re still a spitfire.

      And your head is still full of swamp water. Get lost.

      "Cher, come on—we were good together."

      I’m working. I pointed the parasol at him. Leave or I’ll make you leave.

      He held up his hands in defeat. "All right cher, all right. I’ll see you later." He blew me a kiss and walked away. I rolled my eyes and headed back inside. One of the ghosts, a pretty girl called Carmen, waved at me. She was the least frightening by far. For one thing, she wasn’t bloody or gross looking. But she did seem to have a perpetual air of sadness about her.

      I waved back slightly and made my way to the main desk where tours gathered. There wasn’t anybody there now, but the tour didn’t start for another half hour. So I lounged against the desk.

      You bored Lu? The ever present Mr. Gillespie asked. He was the previous head of the museum, dead as you might gather.

      I looked up at the bald, bespectacled man and smiled. Just impatient, Mr. Gillespie.

      The young always are, I suppose.

      You could be right.

      This is your last tour today?

      It is.

      Good— he looked around him, You don’t want to be here after dark Lu.

      I know, thanks. He reminded me every day, somewhat forgetful he was, but it was out of caring.

      He smiled and wandered off through a wall. I shook my head and smiled. He was a worrier that one. But right, you didn’t stay at the Sauvageau mansion after dark unless you wanted a real fright. That’s when the nasty spirits came out. I didn’t deal with them. Truth was, there were heaps of rumors about what had gone on at the estate, and who knew if any of it was true?

      I’d never seen the ghost of Deirdre Sauvageau, but the stories were hair-curling. Stories about people being tortured in the basement—real nasty stuff. Like I said, I didn’t know if was true, but I wasn’t willing to stick around at night to find out for sure, and the sick feeling I got in the pit of my stomach the moment dusk started to settle was enough to get me out of there.

      I trusted my instincts.

      Mommy! Look at the pretty lady! A small girl in pigtails and a skort bounced as she tugged her momma—a lady who really shouldn’t have been wearing red lipstick—to the desk.

      Yes honey, I see. The woman smiled politely at me, and I kept all thoughts of her obvious circus heritage from my face. I mean really, even a clown had no business wearing that much rouge.

      Welcome to the Sauvageau estate, the tour will start in twenty minutes. Please gather at the desk. I straightened and held the parasol with more grace and less violence.

      More people started to gather—many of them in the more common tourist Hawaiian shirts covered in craw daddies. I smiled politely as they snapped their pictures. Yes, take pictures of the pretty Southern girl in the Southern mansion. Put it in your little scrapbooks and show them to your friends.

      Many of them had the smell of body odor and heat about them. I myself wasn’t as fresh as I could’ve been, but I was in a corset in three petticoats. Had none of them heard of deodorant? I allowed myself a small sigh.

      Once they were all together, I stepped in front of the group and put on my best customer service smile. Welcome to the Sauvageau estate, I’m Lu and I’ll be showing you around this afternoon. If you have any questions, you just let me know.

      There were a few murmured responses. I smiled again and started by leading them into the foyer—where a portrait of the late Deirdre Sauvageau was hung. She’d been lovely, black hair and eyes, a heart shaped face and full lips. A beauty—and according to rumors, a sadist and a vampire. Then, this is New Orleans honey. The guy next door to you probably thought he was a vampire and the guy on the other side was casting charms for a fifty.

      It was just that kind of city, and this was the French Quarter. You

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