The Halloween Haunt

Trick or Treat? In Hollows Creek, it’s definitely a trick. The jack-o'-lanterns are lit, the cider is spiked, and the veil between worlds is thinner than ever. It’s finally Halloween in Hollows Creek, and Lara is ready for the biggest night of the year. But when an attraction turns out to be actually haunted, the town’s spooky fun turns deadly. A vengeful spirit from the town’s past has returned, and it’s not looking for candy. With her cat by her side (who is currently refusing to wear his costume) and her handsome baker boyfriend finally in the know, Lara must face the ultimate test of her magic. As the clock ticks down to midnight on Samhain, she realizes this isn't just a ghost story—it’s a battle for the soul of the town. If she can’t banish the darkness before the final pumpkin is smashed, this might be the last Halloween Hollows Creek ever sees. The coffee is hot. The ghosts are restless. And the magic is about to get wild. Perfect for readers who love: Halloween cozies · snarky talking cats · small-town witchy charm · sweet baker romance · spooky-not-scary, guaranteed happy ending.

Chapter 1: The Ghost in the Grocery Store Piper stood in the cereal aisle of Hollow Creek Grocery, holding a box of Frosted Flakes, when the dead woman appeared beside her. "Too much sugar, dear." Mrs. Gable floated three inches off the linoleum, her floral housedress rippling like she stood in a gentle breeze that didn't exist. She'd been dead for two weeks—heart attack in the frozen foods section—and apparently hadn't gotten the memo that haunting the place where you died was a cliché. "Noted," Piper said, not looking at her. "The granola is much better for you. Builds strong bones." "You're dead. Your bones are gone." Mrs. Gable sniffed. "No need to be rude." Piper tossed the Frosted Flakes in her basket and moved toward the checkout. Behind her, Mrs. Gable made a disapproving tsk-tsk sound that followed her down the aisle like a wasp. This was Piper's life now. Had been since she was seven years old and realized the pale man in her classroom wasn't a substitute teacher but the ghost of the school's original janitor, dead since 1952. Twenty-three years later, the dead still wouldn't leave her alone. They were everywhere. In line at the post office. Sitting in the park. Standing on street corners, confused about why no one would help them cross. Most of them wanted something—a message delivered, a mystery solved, peace, closure, revenge. Piper had learned to tune them out, to look past their translucent forms and keep walking. She wasn't a grief counselor for the deceased. She was a bookkeeper. She paid for her cereal—twelve dollars, highway robbery—and pushed through the glass doors onto Main Street. And stopped. A massive black production van sat in the middle of the road, blocking traffic in both directions. Chrome accents caught the afternoon sun. The side panel bore a logo in sharp, modern font: a spectral hand reaching through static. Two camera operators unloaded equipment. A woman in a headset barked orders into a walkie-talkie. And there, stepping out of the van in designer jeans and a leather jacket, was the face Piper had seen on a dozen streaming service thumbnails. Whoever the ghost hunter was—she didn't bother learning their names—they were here. In Hollow Creek. Piper groaned, closing her eyes against the headache already forming behind her temples. "Great," she muttered, clutching her grocery bag. "The circus is in town." Behind her, Mrs. Gable phased through the grocery store wall. "Oh, how exciting! Are they here for me?" Piper didn't answer. She turned left, away from the production crew, and walked faster. It was going to be a long week.