You know... It’s been a long time since I’ve been that nervous.” “You were nervous?” I ask. “Why?” “I’m making love to a romance author,” he explains with a grin. “Your standards are high.” “My standards are fictional.

I can’t believe you’re afraid of ghosts.” “Really? I’m afraid of everything: ghosts, germs, vulnerability, the dark, Slender Man, public speaking, earwigs...

Being haunted was kind of like having a puppy. You had to walk it, play with it, and leave the TV on so it wouldn’t get lonely. The only difference was that everyone wanted a puppy. Michael didn’t know anyone, except maybe Luke, who wanted a pet ghost.

The only person in the world to know Michael's secret and it had to be Luke Rainer, ghost hunter, reality television star, and douchebag extraordinaire.

Is this one of those bizarre instances where someone stepped on a bug and accidentally rewove the tapestry of fate? Because I'm pretty sure if the universe were in any sort of proper alignment, I would not have ended up in Colin Ward's arms in a hotel room in Inverness.