This will likely be a Halloween release next year, if I don’t get sidetracked by shiny new bunnies.
Not like that ever happens.
Hal spun around and headed for the door. Only problem was, Dave was there.
“Aaagh!” Hal stumbled backward, tripped over the footstool and did a perfect backwards somersault, landing in the well underneath the desk.
Dave tapped his foot, the pattern of the Aubusson rug showing through his Nikes–the shoes he’d been wearing when he died. “Don’t be an ass, Hal. I’m still me, just dead.”
Hal took a few deep, gasping breaths and prayed he wouldn’t wet himself. “W-w-what do you want?”
Dave crouched in front of the desk and grinned. The light from the fire shining through him made his teeth gleam like a toothpaste commercial. “I want to go into business with you.”
Why are all my plot bunnies silly? Is it the wine?