“MacMillian pinched the bridge of his nose. Conspiracy theories, secret societies... what the hell had he gotten himself into? What was next? Vampires? Werewolves?”

“MacMillian groaned again, and sat up. "Clients?""Yeah. You know, people who'll give us money in exchange for work.”

“That, my dear detective, was the other San Francisco. You've probably seen it before, just out of the corner of your eye. You've probably dismissed it all your life. Maybe you always told yourself ...”

“MacMillian steepled his fingers on the head of his cane. Anticipation rose in his chest. Lena and Cyrus Alan might have an advantage over him when it came to hunting ghosts, but this was where he e...”

“I should hex the IRS.”

“Are you here about the infestation?"MacMillian stiffened. "I don't... We aren't-"Lena cleared her throat. "I'm afraid bugs aren't really our specialty.""Not bugs." The woman shook her head vigorous...”

“But this time as soon as he moved she began to fade. He stopped at once, not breathing again, motionless, willing his eyes to see that she had stopped too. But she had not stopped. She was fading, ...”

“Nico knew something about ghosts. Letting them get inside your head was dangerous. He wanted to help Reyna, but since his own strategy was to deal with his problems alone, spurning anyone who tried...”

“It was all real and blazing with detail. But I was shadow, light as mist, mute as the wallpaper.”

“...a sensual life is a ghostly existence where you live on the surface and your soul passes through everything, touching nothing ...”

“Lena scowled at the empty space in her living room. "Oh sure, thanks, I had fun too." She'd stayed awake, spilled a cup of perfectly good tea, and for what? A spirit with the noncorporeal equivalen...”

“...a sensual life is a ghostly existence where you live on the surface and your soul passes through everything, touching nothing ...”