By Mary Downing Hahn
Travis and his sister, Corey, cannot face up to a great trick. after they examine that their grandmother's quiet Vermont hotel, the place they're spending the summer time, has a heritage of ghost sightings, they choose to do some "haunting" in their personal. sooner than lengthy, their supernatural pranks have travelers flocking to the hotel, and company booms. yet Travis and Corey quickly discover that they are not the single ghosts at Fox Hill hotel. Their inconsiderate video games have woke up anything risky, whatever that are meant to have stayed asleep. Can those siblings lay to leisure the ghosts they’ve stirred?
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Brat," I muttered, too embarrassed to come up with a clever retort. " Corey glided toward the door. Shoving my blankets aside, I got out of bed and tiptoed outside behind my fearless sister. As soon as I stepped into the shadows under the trees, I began to shiver, just as I had earlier. The night seemed darker here, colder, spookier. The leaves whispered, the shadows shifted and changed and formed new shapes. I glanced at Corey, but she didn't appear to notice anything out of the ordinary. With a giggle, she danced across the grass, waving her arms dramatically, her head thrown back, her filmy nightgown fluttering.
Fools, that's what they were. " He took a sip of coffee. " Across the room, Robert seated himself noisily. "Get a move on, Tim," he said in a loud you-can't-fool-me voice. " Before he joined his friend, Tim smiled at Corey. "My girlfriend is psychic, too," he told her. " Grandmother watched Tim join Robert at their table. " To the rest of us, she said, "Breakfast is ready. " Corey and I sat down, and Grandmother sat between us. "No more ghost talk," she said. " Corey kicked me under the table, and I kicked her back.
Without saying a word, I knew my sister was thinking exactly what I was thinking. Rappings and tappings, footsteps, doors opening and shutting—we could do that. And more. Bringing ghosts back to Fox Hill would be like playing haunted house all summer long. Two The dining room was large enough for at least two dozen people, but only two other tables were occupied. The bike riders sat together by the French doors, open to a view of the mountains. Lean, sunburned guys with huge leg muscles, they didn't look as if they'd come to Vermont to see ghosts.
All the Lovely Bad Ones by Mary Downing Hahn