The Afterlife Academy (26 page)

T
rutti's eyes gleamed as he eagerly rubbed his hands together and pulled a bone from the tower. A smart choice. The tower remained intact, and Trutti's face radiated pure joy as he grinned at his master. Hoonga offered him an approving nod, and Trutti erupted in a fit of giggles.

The game of Bones had never gone in this direction before. He had played it with Hoonga thousands of times, and each round had always proven painful for the lesser demon. Burned ears. Scorched eyes. Boiled fingers and toes. The amount of pain Trutti had endured over the years could not possibly be measured.

Now the tables had turned. He had won seven games in a row. The next piece selected would topple the tower, and it wasn't Trutti's turn to pick. He was about to add another win to his name.

Hoonga stared at the tower, aware of this fact. He clapped his hands and a look of pride etched his demonic features. “Your move, Arnold,” the giant demon announced. Hoonga's eye narrowed as he glared down upon the third participant in the game of Bones. “Might as well get it over with.”

Wisdom Willows sat strapped to one of the chairs in the outpost office. His green robe was torn and tattered, and his watery eyes looked exhausted. “Do I have to?” he whimpered.

Hoonga glanced at Trutti for approval, and the bat-eared demon nodded enthusiastically.

“I'm afraid so,” Hoonga said. “Hurry up, please. We need to restack the tower so we can play another game.”

“Another game? How many are we going to play?” Wisdom's voice cracked.

“So many!” Trutti shouted. “Hundreds! Thousands! Bones is the best game ever!”

Wisdom's chin dropped. “But I don't want to play anymore. I'm so tired. Please, let's just stop!”

Hoonga's lower lip curled, and he wore an empathetic expression. “Very well,” he said with a sigh. “We'll stop after this round.”

Trutti stomped his foot. “
Awwww!
No way!” Hoonga giving in to the begging of a human? That wasn't like him at all. Trutti folded his arms and stuck out his tongue. “That's not fair, and you know it!”

“Come on, Trutti, don't be like that,” Hoonga purred. “We can try another game for a little while. I'll even let you pick. What would be a fun activity we all three could enjoy?” Hoonga smiled, and the two demons stared across the room at a familiar deck of playing cards. Trutti flipped onto his back and clapped his feet together vigorously. Hoonga roared with laughter.

Wisdom raised his head and followed their gaze to see what had spurred their excitement, just as Trutti began to chant.

“Old Maid! Old Maid! Old Maid!”

With most books, or at least the ones I have written, the author is just one of the many pieces working together that makes a story come to life. Yes, my name may end up on the cover, but that's only because there would be too many names to include if we did it differently.

Over the years, my wife, Heidi, has given me support and confidence, and perhaps most importantly, time to write. She sacrifices so much because she believes in me.

I owe a ton to Shannon Hassan, my phenomenal agent at Marsal Lyon Literary Agency. She took a chance on my work when I thought no one would. She truly is amazing!

It has been an absolute dream come true working with Delacorte Press and Random House and especially my editor, Rebecca Short. She is so brilliant and has such vision and patience. Perhaps she knows my characters better than I do. Also, many thanks to Michelle Poploff, who first pulled the lever that allowed this ball to start rolling.

Thank you to Lisa Weber and to the Delacorte Press design team, particularly Katrina Damkoehler, for creating an amazing cover. Lisa somehow managed to pluck the images of my characters straight out of my mind. That
is
Charlie and Walter!

This story has been through many revisions since the idea was conceived over four years ago, and I am indebted to anyone who took a glance at it and steered me in the right direction. These readers include Jennifer Judd, Ethan Judd, Michael Cole, Taylor Fleming, Susan LaDuke, B. K. Bostick, Kevin Lemley, James Loveless, Nichole Giles, Amy Grow, and Jackson Cole.

Thank you to my family: my parents, for their encouragement, and my children, Jackson, Gavin, and Camberlyn, for being my guinea pigs. You all are the reason I write.

Lastly, a booming thanks goes to you, my readers, for trying out this book. Your time is so valuable and you have countless books to fill it with, and yet somehow you chose mine. I hope I didn't let you down.

Frank L. Cole lives with his wife and three children out west. Over the years, he has seen his share of wraiths and shades, but thankfully, no banshees just yet. When he's not writing books or dodging demons, Frank enjoys going to the movies and traveling.
The Afterlife Academy
is Frank's eighth published book. His Guardian Agent's name is Rolph.

You can learn more about his writing at
franklewiscole.blogspot.com
.