Ghosted: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy Page 2

  “Fine, fine. I have this thing. For faeries. I was charmed, I swear!” He held his palms in the air. “Besides, it’s not like we were in love. We weren’t to that point yet. So, when that green fairy, Emry, came along with her soft emerald skin, things just happened. And by things, I mean, we clicked, meshed, and fucked. We had so much in common. I was trapped in a big blue dildo, and she was trapped in a bottle of absinthe. Once, your aunt was trying to rub me out, but I was over in Emry’s bottle. I guess we were making a ruckus because she peered into that bottle, saw Emry facedown and ass up, and smashed the bottle against the wall.”

  I flinched. “Jeez. What happened to Emry? Didn’t you get hurt?”

  “No, I don’t get hurt. I’m a genie! But Emry fled. No idea what happened to her. And after Karen cursed me to be useless and took away my wish power, I quit coming out for her. Anytime she rubbed me out, I’d run back inside my dildo. Witches be jealous.”

  “Ghosted. You ghosted her.”

  “I’m not a ghost.” He flickered in and out like a bad signal on a television.

  “No, it’s a term for disappearing on someone. Relatively newish term. How long have you been in there anyway?” I nodded toward the dildo.

  “Ah, let’s see. The last thing I remember is the radio stations playing that damn ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ song. Some guy named Rick. Hated that song. Always got stuck in my head.” He hummed the tune, bobbing from side to side.

  “The ’80s.” I sucked in my breath. “You have a lot to learn. So, tell me how the wish thing works. I can wish for anything?”

  “Anything except the usual genie rules. No bringing back someone to life. I don’t do zombies. Also, none of that love business. That’s too messy. Oh, and you can’t ask for more wishes. I think that covers it. But you’re out of luck because I can’t grant anything. Not unless we break this curse.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “We? Aha. So, you want those wishes, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have to find my match.” He shifted his fiery gaze out the window.

  “Like, your twin? Your love match?”

  “The matching piece to my blue dildo.”

  “Huh. That’s weird. And then what?”

  “No clue. I just know I used to have a match, and now, I don’t. And your aunt said that was the only way I could return to my normal wish-granting state. I need that match with me.”

  “Okay. So, what am I searching for? Another dildo?”

  “A matching blue butt plug,” he stated.

  “Are you serious?” I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and sighing.

  “I couldn’t make this shit up.”

  TWO

  Dylan

  Ifell backward onto my bed, throwing my arms out in a sigh of relief. My dark, lonely dildo didn’t seem as dark and lonely tonight. My entire room pulsed with the familiar glow that I’d once lost. Anytime someone summoned me, up until their wishes were granted, things were different. My surroundings vibrated, flashed, and twinkled with magic. But ever since Karen had taken my ability to grant wishes away, I was only a big, flashy dildo with mediocre tricks. I was useless.

  What kind of genie can’t grant wishes?

  I’d been robbed of my geniehood all because I wanted a piece of that faerie ass. I should have known better. It was always the green faeries I needed to avoid. They were nothing but trouble.

  “Claire,” I whispered her name out like it was a single prayer. And it was.

  She would save me from my pity party of one. At least, I hoped she would.

  She sighed softly next to me, slightly jostling my room with each toss and turn. I knew I was the cause of her restless sleep. A sexy genie popping out of a dildo was beyond comprehension for most humans. But it was just another day in my magical realm.

  We’d stayed up late as I tried to explain things to her, but skepticism had played across her face in the most seductive expression I’d known on any creature, human or not.

  There was something about the way she’d focused that drove me wild. Her eyes would become hooded as she concentrated on what I told her. As if she needed to squint to hear my words correctly.

  “Let me get this right. You just came to be because you’re just here? A big blue dildo. That’s your story? Didn’t someone make you? Do you remember life before being trapped in a dildo? Do you have parents? Do you have to stay inside there, or can you roam around? What’re the rules?” She wrapped a sheet around her at the foot of the bed, propping herself up on her elbows and giving me her full attention.

  I settled back into my chair and took a deep breath.

  “No one has ever asked me all of these things before. Hmm. I’m pretty simple. I didn’t have a life or anything before becoming a genie. I just was. Or am. I don’t remember anything. No parents. We don’t work like that. We aren’t born into existence. We just are. Always were and always have been. As far as rules, I can’t come out unless I’m summoned. Or rubbed. But then I can stay out until I fulfill my duties. Whatever that might be.” I smirked, pointing finger guns at her and blowing a kiss.

  She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling and groaning. “A genie that thinks he’s a comedian. Just my luck. Too bad I can’t write an article about this. They’d think I was batshit crazy. And maybe I am. Maybe, one day, I’ll wake up from this weird dream.”

  “No deal, babe. It’s real. I’m real. You’re real. At least, what I felt of you was real.” I stood up, stepping toward the bed—toward her. I stuck my hand out, running my palm up the length of her arm and hovering it over her collar before pulling back.

  She sucked in her breath. “Yep. You’re real.”

  I slumbered hard after I returned to my dildo because that was what genies did. We slumbered. We didn’t sleep, nap, or nod off. When my head hit the pillow, nothing could wake me, except a summons, unless I woke myself for one reason or another. And after my summoner first released me, she—or he—didn’t need to rub me out anymore. I could appear or disappear at will until I granted their last wish. Then, I’d forever be just an ordinary dildo to them. I’d vanish from their life forever.

  Ghosted.

  I’d left that part out when I explained my genie rules to Claire. I didn’t want her to know she could summon me without sticking me inside of her. It was a dick move, but then again, I was a dick. Literally.

  My plan backfired as I paced my room for days before I felt the familiar pull again, sucking me out of my home and into the real world. I’d waited and waited on Claire to rescue me from my penis cage for what seemed like ages. After nothing but silence for days, I’d thought she’d given up. I couldn’t blame her. She’d headed crotch-first into the magic world, and that was a scary thing.

  She could run into all sorts of trouble, dabbling with the paranormal. She could frolic with demons, wrestle with ghosts, get hexed by a witch, and sit on a gnome. Once someone became aware of my world, they began to notice other things beyond human understanding too.

  And sure enough, after a long drought of zero communication, she was rubbing one out, sending me flying back into her room—all razzly-dazzly and shit—and demanding answers.

  “What’s this? I walked across a bridge today, and look! Look!” She held the blanket over her naked body with one hand, and with the other, she shoved what looked like a phone in my face.

  The screen had a snapshot of the ugliest, hairiest troll I’d ever seen. His brows were scrunched into his wrinkled hairline as he flipped off the camera.

  “It’s a troll. You can’t just go walking over their bridges. Everyone knows that!” I crossed my arms, waiting on an explanation for her ghosting me.

  “I’ve walked over that bridge dozens of times and never noticed that monster. I can’t handle this. What do I need to do to go back to my world? I don’t want to deal with any magic stuff anymore. I have a job to do.”

  “Yeah, you do if you want it all to stop. Find my magic butt
plug.”

  “That’s not the job I was talking about! I have an article to write. I need to save my career. Things aren’t looking too good for me back home. I don’t have time to go in search of a damn butt plug. I need to finish this article and go home, not set out on an adventure for a sex toy.”

  “Phew! You’re on fire today. Are you sure that troll didn’t cast a bad mood on you?”

  She tightened the sheet around her. “Being here puts me in a bad mood. It’s like the entire town has a curse on it. Everywhere I turn, people are gossiping or staring or just being overall annoying. I ran into two trolls today, by the way. The one under the bridge and one I went to high school with.”

  “You went to school with trolls? They’re as dumb as rocks. I didn’t know they went to school!”

  “No, not a real troll. Just this girl. She used to bully me. She and her little group basically ran me out of this town. I never fit in anyway. I would sit under the trees, reading books, while all the other girls played soccer or braided their hair. I was a nerd. Still am a nerd. I just don’t fit in here. It makes me uncomfortable to come back to this place. I need my info, and I need to go.”

  “Wish number one: become successful in your career. Wish number two: give that troll bitch a case of herpes. See? You know you want these wishes. Once we find that anal rammer, we’ll be good to go.” I flashed her a smile.

  It usually wasn’t difficult to talk someone into making wishes. But talking someone into finding a magic butt plug was proving harder than I’d imagined.

  “Ugh!” She rolled out of bed, wobbling toward the bathroom and tripping over her sheet.

  “Why are you covered up anyway? Think I haven’t seen you before? Remember, I’ve seen you from the inside out. Kind of like you birthed me. That’s weird. Erase that image from your mind. What I meant to say is, you’re beautiful when you’re mad. Come on and sit next to me.” I patted the bed, beckoning her back to me. “We’ll figure it out together. I need my geniehood back. I’m tired of being useless. You help me, and I’ll help you. Can we make a deal? It shouldn’t be hard to find the butt plug. Your aunt wasn’t the brainiest witch around. I’m sure she stuffed it somewhere in her attic, basement, or shed. It seems to be stereotypical. Check those first.”

  “Look, you’re nice.”

  Uh-oh. Here we go. I’ve heard this tone before.

  “But I didn’t fuck your big blue dick because I wanted you. I fucked it for answers.”

  “About that … yeah, so … you don’t have to fuck yourself to summon me. Once you summoned me that first time, I’m good to go. Just stroke the dildo twice, and I’ll appear. Sorry I forgot to mention that. But I’m here now, and you were just satisfied. Right? Are you not entertained?” I jumped up into the air, twirling in a smoky tornado swirl that I hoped would impress her.

  She rolled her eyes. “You kept that from me on purpose!”

  “Maybe.”

  “Back in you go,” she snarled, stomping toward the bed and grabbing the plastic penis.

  She stroked it twice, then twice more, and again and again.

  “Why aren’t you disappearing? Isn’t that how I put you back in there too?”

  “No. It’s not even how you get me out. I just wanted to see if you’d really stroke it. That’s pretty hot—and hilarious. Do it again. I felt that one in my cold, dead soul.” I twitched, hovering a few feet off the bed.

  “What a dick.” She shook her head, tossing my home to the side.

  “Duh.” I smirked.

  She lay down on the bed beside me, sighing. “What do I have to do to make you ghost me? Or if I need you to reappear? For research purposes, of course. So, I can get those wishes and get the hell out of Morningwood.”

  “I can come and go as I please. But if you want me gone forever, I need to grant those three wishes. After your last wish, I disappear. You couldn’t even see me if you wanted to. Though I doubt you’d want to. Meow!” I clawed at the air.

  Her eyes snapped to mine. “You mean, it all goes away? You go away and all the magic too?”

  “Yep. The supernatural world will be closed off to you. Humans only get one genie per life. Even if you rubbed another magic dildo, nothing would happen. You could run into a vamp one day maybe or a shifter or something. But not likely. The rules of my world are different than yours. We’re fully open or fully closed to those who seek us—or in your case, find us.”

  “I see. I’ll head over to my mom’s house in the morning. She lives in Great Aunt Karen’s old place, where you came from. If you can appear and disappear, can you come with me? Help me out? It’s your butt plug we’re looking for anyway.”

  “Of course. Just stash me in your purse, and let’s rock and roll.”

  “But you’ll be quiet and not make an appearance unless she isn’t around and all that, right? I can’t have her seeing things. I don’t need her holding anything else against me. She already guilt-trips me for being too good and leaving her behind.”

  “Is that true? Do you feel that way? That you’re too good for the people here, even your mother?”

  She picked the dildo up, stroking it back and forth in a fit of mock rage. “You’re my genie, not my shrink. Now, get back into your penis, or I’ll shove it in a troll’s butthole.”

  I disappeared in a flash.

  Literally.

  I flash, banged, boomed the fuck outta there.

  THREE

  Claire

  It had been years since I set foot in Great Aunt Karen’s home. Even as a child, I’d feared visiting her. She babysat me on days when my mom worked weekends. Those weekends were the most dreaded times of my childhood. Great Aunt Karen would set me to cleaning her home, inside and out, the entire time. Only about thirty minutes before my mother picked me up would she lay out over-steeped tea and stale butter cookies, as if we had been lounging, reading books, and savoring snacks all day.

  Not that my mother would care. I’d been the only one to clean our house too. The moment Annie left work, she’d come home and pour herself a whiskey. She’d sit at the kitchen table and drone on and on about her day while I boiled whatever canned food we could afford. On Mondays and Wednesdays, I’d heat canned ravioli. The plop sound it made as it slid a slimy trail out of the can and into our only frying pan would forever haunt my memories. I’d not eaten ravioli since I left Morningwood.

  I’d hover over the stove, pretending to listen to my mom’s woeful tales, but my mind would drift elsewhere. In a book. In a dream. Somewhere far away. After dinner, I’d wash the dishes and put them away. By the time I finished tidying up, she would be lying down, passed out on the couch already. More often than not, a burning cigarette in her hand. I’d stub it out, tiptoeing past her and into my room to read. I couldn’t escape my world fast enough.

  I’d lose myself in tales of fantastical things, such as creatures from the sea, majestic unicorns, princely knights, and non-slutty green faeries. I loved living in a fantasyland, even if it existed only in my imagination. But now that a real-life fantasy had fallen into my hands, I refused to accept it. I’d given up on fairy tales long ago. Now, things such as trolls, witches, and Dylan were more of a hassle than the dreamy realm I’d escaped to long ago.

  “Think we can swing by somewhere to eat? I’ve not had food in decades!” Dylan asked, drumming his fingertips across his knee. He’d promised that he would behave if I let him hang out instead of hiding.

  “Genies eat?” I pulled out of the hotel parking lot in my rental car.

  The only rental company in Morningwood was Fat Sal’s. Fat Sal had been around for years, providing cars to the four tourists we had each season. But lately, as word had gotten out that our town topped the charts as one of the most haunted places in America, Fat Sal’s business had slowly been growing. She’d happily informed me she had a total of eight cars now instead of five.

  I liked Fat Sal. She didn’t treat me like the rest of the townsfolk. She probed and prodded me out of curiosity
, not to use my words as ammunition for small-town gossip. I knew because she was also an outcast. She’d left town twenty years ago but had to come back to take care of her ailing mother. The townsfolk never forgave her for leaving. I had no idea how her business had stayed afloat for so long, but when she’d told me things were good, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of victory. At least one of us was sticking it to the shitty people here.

  “No, we don’t eat. But we can. Do they still make those Mack Daddy things?” he asked, rubbing his palms together. His biceps flexed with each movement beneath his tight-fitting tee.

  Before we’d left the hotel, I’d had to explain to him that wind suits were now out of fashion. When he’d emerged from the dildo, wearing something that looked like a tattered purple parachute, I couldn’t help but laugh. He’d magically poofed through several outfits before I settled on a basic tee and jean combo—my favorite look on a man. Not that I was checking him out. Not really. He was a genie, and I was a human. I didn’t know much about the fantastical world, but I knew enough to know that I couldn’t have a relationship with a genie. Besides, he had a thing for naughty faeries, not nerdy journalists.

  “Mack Daddy? What’s that?”

  “You know, the meat and the bun. Pickles, lettuce, tomato. Something-something sesame seeds.” His voice trailed off into song.

  “Big Mac. You’re thinking about a Big Mac. It’s a burger,” I groaned, taking a sharp left toward our only McDonald’s.

  “Yeah, that! With fries and a milkshake. I dip my fries into my milkshake. Do you do that? I learned that trick from your great aunt. Thought maybe it ran in the family. Hope that jealous-fit-of-rage streak doesn’t though.” His body flashed blue before returning back to a normal human color.

  “Why? Plan on fucking any faeries?”

  “Look, I’m just saying, we don’t know what we’ll find in that attic. Or the basement. Or wherever we look. We might find a succubus,” he growled. “Always wanted to take one of them to Pound Town.”