The Friday Five: Favorite Ghost Scenes

With just a few days until the release of One Grave at a Time, here is the last installment of the Friday Five.  Here are my favorite scenes involving ghostly creatures found in the Night Huntress series by Jeaniene Frost.  Hope you have liked this series of blog posts, and don't forget to get your copy of One Grave at a Time!

Thanks again to my guest bloggers, Kris and Jess from Happily Ever After Reads, cpblackburn73 from Frostfans and my dear friend and writing partner, BonTempsCutie! It was a lot of fun going back through the books, wasn't it!



Bones introduces Cat to Winston Gallagher Halfway To The Grave

Early in Cat and Bones relationship, Bones takes Cat to the graveyard to get some information. Not only does Cat get drunk, the ghost takes advantage of her, and Cat shows us her humorous side.  It’s also the first time she looks at Bones as something other than just another vampire to kill.

A ghost had just gotten to third base with me. Could I sink any lower?

"Winston poltergeisted my panties, that's what!" I announced with a loud hiccup.

Mencheres raising the wraiths At Graves End

This might actually be my most favorite scene in the series so far. Unbelievable action, and emotion.  I don’t think I have to say any more. Here are some of my favorite passages:

Without raising his head, Mencheres pulled a knife from his lap. Then he stabbed it straight into his heart.

I did gasp then, in open mouthed incredulity as he twisted the blade. Must be steel, not silver, I found myself thinking. Or he'd be as dead as the grainy remains of those men spackling him like grayish snow.

Dark blood poured from the wound, flowing as steadily as if his heart still beat. It covered the knife, his hands, and his clothes with a murky crimson liquid. Soon I wasn't even staring at that, however. I was staring with growing incomprehension as the red-smeared powdery substance that was the bones of the men who'd died began to separate, expand...and then form into figures.

In my wildest imaginings, I hadn't known it was possible for a vampire to do these things, but here we were, following on the magic carpet of Mencheres's power behind the vengeance-filled wraiths he'd raised. Later I'd ponder the significance of that. Like when I wrote my report to Don and watched him faint while reading it.

Cat meets Fabian Destined for an Early Grave

One of the most sympathetic and likable characters in the Night Huntress series is Cat’s adopted ghost, Fabian. I do so love Cat when she has her tender moments.  

"I didn't think you'd speak to me." the ghost replied, starting to smile. "The undead"-he nodded at Bones--just ignore us. They're among the few who can see us. but they don't even care!"

He spoke with such impassioned resonance. I would have patted him if he had been solid. Instead. I gave him a sympathetic smile.

"What's your name? I'm Cat.”

He bowed. his head going through the table. 'I am Fabian du Brac. Born 1877. died 1922.'

The Remnants This Side Of The Grave

The remnants, another supernatural force from the grave, gave Cat and Bones some interesting times in This Side of the Grave, and this scene where Vlad and Cat experiment with her new powers was a winner.  I love it when these two friends interact, well, most of the time...

I felt like ice flashed through my veins even as a shield of transparent bodies formed over me, deflecting Vlad’s blow as if they were made of solid diamond instead of only vaporous air. He stared at them with grim triumph as that shield of Remnants grew into a wall—and then fell on top of him.

“Good, it worked,” Vlad gritted out even as his whole body was smothered by them. “Magnificent weapon. This hurts . . . absolutely everywhere.”

Voices echoed all around me, some as low as growls and others in pitches so high they sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Vlad was right; it obviously worked. Now came the really hard part. I’d raised them, but I had to get them off him. It was hard to concentrate with them bombarding my mind with more voices than I could ever count. If I had any hope at controlling them, I needed to use the same techniques I’d developed while learning to keep humans’ thoughts from overwhelming me.Focus on one voice. Tune into it. Make everything else fade into the background.

I didn’t bother taking the time to pull out one of my knives, but slammed my hand onto the jagged, sharp remains of the headstone, inflicting another deep laceration.

“All right, you deadly little ghostlings,” I muttered. “Mama says go back to bed!”

Fabian telling Vlad off This Side Of The Grave

In another very powerful scene, Fabian gives Vlad a schooling on just what a ghost can do. I think Cat’s final words say it all.

Fabian didn’t flinch under Vlad’s harsh analysis. “You have no idea what it’s like, existing between worlds,” he said, floating closer instead of backing away. “We are neither the living nor the undead. It takes years to cope with the fact that even though over ninety-nine percent of everyone who dies crosses over to the next place, you are left behind. Years to accept that everything you worked for in your life is gone, and the shell of memory is all that remains. Years to recover from hopelessly trying to communicate with loved ones, only to fail time and again because no one except the crazed, psychics, the undead, or other ghosts can see you. Years

to accept—even if you don’t understand why—that vampires and ghouls will treat you worse than they do vermin, even though they are no more human than you are.”

Fabian advanced again, until his finger disappeared into Vlad’s chest. “I’d dare the strongest of your race or any other to say that they’ve conquered the same hardships my people have overcome. So think again before you question a ghost’s worth, or judge those younger ones who are still in the process of becoming tougher than anyone tied to flesh will ever be!”

Stunned silence filled the air once Fabian was finished. I wanted to break out into apologies and applause all at the same time, but I was still recovering from my shock at how my mild-mannered, Casper-esque friend had just unloaded a truck full of I-dare-yous onto one of the scariest vampires in existence. Damned if I would ever underestimate a ghost’s chutzpah again, or question their fortitude. Being noncorporeal clearly didn’t equate to lacking a pair of balls.