Author: Ed Martin

About: Move over, Toni Morrison, Ed Martin's still the king when it comes to ghostly erotic power. This peculiar effort, even by Olympia’s standards, unleashes the sexual energy locked up inside the catacombs.

Join one mortal, a number of fully functioning deceased, and the spirit of abolitionist John Brown for a sensual afterlife you'll never forget!

Excerpt:

“That's quite a trick, you know,” said Tom.

Helen snarled: “Tricks-pricks! How about a fat lay?”

“I am your grandfather, Hiram Thompson,” continued the trumpet.

“Later,” said Tom.

“Have you still got your hand in her crotch?” asked Helen.

“Of course not!”

“Then where is it?” Helen squealed and then added: “I mean the other one.”

“It's around here someplace. I know I had another one a while ago.”

“You're impossible,” said Helen. She slouched back further and, letting her knees drop aside, grasped his wrist and began working his fingers in and out. “If this is all I can get, this is all I can get!”

“Have you no shame?”

“Sure I do! It's a shame a girl has to satisfy herself in this ridiculous manner.”

It struck Waldo that the voice was a little high-pitched for his grandfather. But he could not very well argue with ghosts. “Yes, grandfather.”

“You have been doing well, Waldo. And it is up to people like you to help disseminate the word.”

“Speaking of dissemination,” said Helen, “how about something a little better than these bony fingers.”

“Later!” said Tom.

“Later, always later.”

Queen Mary smiled. Shorty Waldo was always a fine contributor. This demonstration should make things opulent. Then she flushed as the trumpet added a comment in what actually seemed to be a female voice.

“Shit! I'm here to state that you can't take it with you.”

She buried her head in her armpit. “Sheila,” she hissed. “For Gawd's sake, cut the wisecracks.”

“I heard it too,” said Sheila. It was more of a shout and there was a note of fear in it. “I didn't say it!”

“Well, don't get excited,” said Queen Mary quickly. “Must be a couple of wires crossed.” It was a vague idea and her voice trailed vaguely off with it.

“On second thought, you can take it with you if you want.” The trumpet executed a smooth dance.

“I didn't do that either,” said Sheila. “The business seems to be running itself.” She added after a moment: “And how can crossed wires talk?”

“I think the seance is about to get panicky,” said Tom.

“Good!” said Helen. “In the confusion we can knock off a small piece of ass.” She tried to get hold of his cock again but Tom was too fast for her.

“Later,” he said.

Helen started to raise her voice in frustration. “The least you can do is help. Don't make me do all the work. Shove your bony hand up my hot thing a little further and give me some sort of kicks. You know how I am when I get like this. Bastard! Why do you have to tease me?”

“Quiet,” said Tom. “They'll hear you!” He fished around until Helen began to relax. “How's that?”

“It's as bony as they make them but it's better than nothing. Now slide in and out—that's it! Use all your fingers, you won't lose them. Ah! Much better.” Helen had her knees clamped up to her armpits again. She rolled back a bit and her thighs fell open like the pages of a book. “See if you can get it in up to your wrist.”

“Don't be silly,” said Tom. “I might lose my hand.”

“What are you worried about? We can always fish it out.”

“Try to be satisfied.”

“'Try to be satisfied,'“ mimicked Helen. “Oh, shit! I trust I'm not bothering you too much with my little needs.”

“Don't snap at me or I'll leave you high and wet.”

“Such a clever saying. Now open your fingers a little.”

“Switch to Perkins.” Queen Mary dragged her tired head out of her armpit. She spoke up: “There are spirits both good and bad. Your grandfather has been pressed back by a vagrant evil on his own plane. But there is someone else. I feel someone else trying to get through from another plane. They are close—so close!”