CHAPTER 1
Ghouls Out for Summer!
I survived my first year at Smithville Elementary School! It started a little grim, but thanks to my best friend, Tate, it turned into a great year. And now school is out for the summer! Boo-ya!
In my old town, Scareville, we spent our summer days hiding from the sun. In Smithville, they soak up the sun all day long. And when it gets too hot, they play with water. It’s strange but a lot more fun than hiding inside all day!
I thought my parents would have a hard time adjusting, but Dad keeps saying “When in Smithville!” and winking, like that means something. And Mom keeps spraying me with sunscream SPF 1,300 saying, “Sun is fun, but ghostly skin gets overdone.”
So far, summer break in Smithville has been a howling good time! We went to our first neighborhood picnic last week. Mom brought fried frog legs, which Parker’s mom called “a delicacy.”
Whatever that means. Dad and I tried all the human food. Some dishes were delicious.
Others were . . . confusing.
FUN FACT: Hot dogs are not actual dogs.
NOT SO FUN FACT: Dad didn’t know that and put ketchup on Mr. Dorsey’s dog, Fifi.
After the picnic, Tate taught me how to play Ghost in the Graveyard—the human way—we didn’t even need a real graveyard! It was cauldrons of fun, but the
BEST part of summer is yet to come because tomorrow Tate and I are going to sleepaway camp!
I’ve got everything packed, including my new sleeping bag. I’ve never been camping without a coffin, but Tate assures me that I’ll sleep like the dead in this thing.
Oh, and Dad got me and Tate these walkie-talkies!
Tate’s code name is Werewolf because he had so much hair as a baby, and I’m Ghostwriter because . . . obviously. Cool, right?
Ever since signing me up for camp, my parents have been dropping major hints that they want to join me. They love doing human things. And according to my dad, sleepaway camp is a big human milestone. “They don’t even have toilets! It’s all so . . . organic,” he’d said. They applied to be counselors. They even got certified in CPR, but the spots were already filled—thank ghoulness!
“Time for bed, honey boo!” Mom said.
“Just adding one more finishing touch to Tate’s T-shirt.
“Did you pack firefly seasoning?” Dad asked, eyeing my duffel.
“Dad, humans
catch fireflies, they don’t
eat them.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not a human then because fireflies are delicious,” he said, slipping the seasoning into my bag.
“That reminds me,” Mom said. “I’m putting extra tubes of sunscream into your bag since there probably won’t be any monster-approved sun protection at the camp.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Sleep tight, honey boo,” Mom said. “I hope the bedbugs bite.”
I floated to bed a few minutes later but couldn’t sleep. Something Dad said was haunting me:
You’re not a human.
I stared out the window. The moon was almost full.
If I were in Scareville, I’d be preparing to celebrate the moon cycle at Scareville’s annual Howling Ceremony with other monsters who were
just like me. But I was in Smithville, preparing for sleepaway camp with humans. Then it hit me, like a pound of potions to my gut: I was going to be the
only ghost . . . again.
Copyright © 2025 by Tara J. Hannon; Illustrated by Tara J. Hannon. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
