Dear Mr. Powers,
We’ve had high seas this week, obscuring the line between land and water along the Maricon to the point that, if not for the lamp posts I might have driven right into the ocean. The lamp posts, and the fearsome waves. And . . . something else. At first I wasn’t sure what I was seeing; the spray seemed to detach, as though animated. I came to believe they were ghosts. One of the spray-ghosts drifted to the roadway and enveloped a car, which then veered right off the road into the surf. The ghosts had gotten a taste for blood.
If this keeps up, the waterfront will become a ghost town–literally. I’ve read your books, and I feel you may know how to face this menace.
a fan in need