By Mary Downing Hahn
Travis and his sister, Corey, cannot withstand an excellent trick. once they examine that their grandmother's quiet Vermont resort, the place they're spending the summer time, has a background of ghost sightings, they choose to perform a little "haunting" in their personal. ahead of lengthy, their supernatural pranks have travelers flocking to the resort, and company booms. yet Travis and Corey quickly discover that they are not the one ghosts at Fox Hill hotel. Their inconsiderate video games have woke up whatever harmful, anything that are supposed to have stayed asleep. Can those siblings lay to relaxation the ghosts they’ve stirred?
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Extra resources for All the Lovely Bad Ones
As the guests began shouting and stumbling about in their rooms, we ran silently down the stairs and hid under the kitchen table. " Grandmother opened the door of her apartment and stepped into the kitchen. From our hiding place, Corey and I watched her bare feet pad past. As soon as she headed upstairs to quiet the guests, my sister and I scurried back to our rooms and jumped into bed. We'd done it again. I would've laughed out loud if Tracy hadn't screamed somewhere outside in the dark. By the time Corey and I reached the front door, Grandmother and the guests had gathered around Tracy.
The breeze danced in the flower bed, shaking the blossoms. Wind chimes clinked like someone laughing. For a moment, I thought I saw something move in the shifting shadows under the trees. Mr. Jennings turned to me. " This was my sister's show, so I shook my head. "Corey ran into my room and woke me up. I've never seen her so scared. In fact, she scared me. " Psycho was more like it, but why spoil things with the truth? "Do you think the ghost walks . . " Mr. Jennings asked, voice low, practically quivering with excitement.
At the top, we paused and listened. Except for a chorus of snores, all was silent. The guests' doors were closed. No lights showed. At the opposite end of the hall were the back stairs, our escape route to the kitchen. We looked at each other, and I nodded. Corey began to sob in a high breathless voice, and I waved a tiny pocket flashlight. Its faint blue light barely lit the darkness. Under our bare feet, the floor boards squeaked and creaked. I tapped at one door, then another, and laughed a horrible laugh.
All the Lovely Bad Ones by Mary Downing Hahn