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Hola, fellow wanderers and story seekers,

There’s something about a storm that stirs the soul, isn’t there? The howl of the wind, the crack of thunder, the way it makes you feel both small and alive—it’s a sensation I’ve chased across continents. So when I stumbled upon *Giving Up The Ghost: A Paranormal Thriller Short Story* by Dean Rasmussen, narrated by Kasi Hollowell, I couldn’t resist diving in, especially with its promise of a hurricane setting and a ghostly twist. At just 38 minutes, this audiobook free on certain platforms felt like a quick detour—an unexpected stop on a road trip that leaves you with more than you bargained for. As a travel writer who’s spent years unearthing hidden histories and listening to tales from the edges of the world, this little paranormal thriller hit me right in the gut, blending the eerie with the deeply human in a way that lingered long after the final words faded.

It reminds me of a time when I was holed up in a crumbling hacienda in Oaxaca during a sudden downpour. The grandmother of the family I was staying with would gather us around the kitchen table each evening, her voice weaving stories of spirits and lost souls with a cadence that could hush even the rain. She’d pause at just the right moment, letting the silence fill with the creak of the old house, and I’d feel the stories come alive around me. Listening to *Giving Up The Ghost* brought me back to those nights. The story unfolds like a whispered secret, one you lean in close to hear over the roar of a storm.

The premise is deceptively simple: Janet, a protective home health nurse, visits Edith, an elderly woman with dementia, as a hurricane barrels toward their Florida town. What starts as a routine check-in spirals into something far darker when Edith’s delusions—or are they?—trap Janet in a house where the line between reality and the supernatural blurs. Rasmussen, with his background in visual effects and a clear love for horror icons like Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft, crafts a tale that’s compact yet brimming with atmosphere. You can almost feel the muggy heat pressing against the windows, the static hum of the approaching storm, the way the air thickens with unease. It’s a paranormal thriller that doesn’t waste a single breath, plunging you into its world with the subtlety of a thunderclap.

For me, the heart of this story lies in its characters—Janet and Edith are more than just players in a spooky plot; they’re people I could imagine meeting on my travels. Janet’s quiet determination reminded me of the nurses I met in a rural clinic in Peru, women who carried the weight of their patients’ lives with a steady grace. Edith, with her fierce spirit and fractured mind, echoed the elders I’ve listened to in villages from Portugal to Chile—people whose stories are a mix of memory and myth, truth and something else entirely. Rasmussen doesn’t overexplain; he trusts you to feel the weight of their connection, the way Janet’s skepticism battles Edith’s conviction that something malevolent—Rodney, a figure from her past—lurks in the house. It’s a dance of doubt and dread, and it’s beautifully done.

The themes here resonate with my own obsessions as a traveler and storyteller: the power of memory, the fragility of the mind, and the way the past can haunt us in ways we can’t escape. Edith’s dementia isn’t just a plot device; it’s a lens that refracts reality, making you question what’s real and what’s conjured. As someone who’s spent nights transcribing oral histories under flickering lantern light, I found myself drawn to this idea—how do we trust the stories we’re told when the teller’s grip on the truth is slipping? And then there’s the hurricane, a force of nature that mirrors the chaos within. It’s a reminder of the storms I’ve weathered, both literal and metaphorical, like the time I drove through Chile’s Atacama Desert, listening to *One Hundred Years of Solitude* on audiobook as the surreal landscape blurred past. The narrator’s voice back then wrapped me in a cocoon of wonder; here, Kasi Hollowell does something similar, but with a shiver instead of warmth.

Speaking of Hollowell, her narration is a revelation. Her voice has that down-to-earth quality I crave in an audiobook experience, the kind that feels like a friend recounting a tale over a crackling fire. She captures Janet’s growing unease with a slow build, her tone shifting from calm professionalism to a tight edge of fear that pulls you along. Edith’s lines, delivered with a mix of grit and fragility, made me think of that Oaxacan grandmother—Hollowell knows how to wield silence, letting it hang heavy between words to amplify the tension. The audio quality is crisp, every creak of the house and gust of wind rendered with care, immersing you in the storm-swept setting. It’s the kind of listening experience that makes you forget you’re just hearing a story—you’re *there*, trapped with Janet and Edith as the walls close in.

That said, no journey is without its bumps. At 38 minutes, *Giving Up The Ghost* is a sprint, and while it’s taut and effective, I found myself craving a bit more meat on its bones. The ending—without giving too much away—lands with a twist that’s satisfying but left me hungry for deeper resolution. It’s like stopping at a roadside diner only to find they’ve run out of your favorite dish: delicious, but you’re still eyeing the menu. Rasmussen’s skill at building atmosphere is undeniable, but the brevity means some questions linger unanswered, especially about Rodney’s presence. For a short story, it’s a minor quibble, but as someone who loves sinking into a narrative’s layers, I wanted just a little more to chew on.

How does it stack up to other paranormal tales? It’s leaner than, say, Shirley Jackson’s *The Haunting of Hill House*, which sprawls with psychological depth, but it shares that same knack for turning a house into a character. Compared to Rasmussen’s own *Hanging House* series, this feels like a distilled shot of his style—less sprawling mystery, more concentrated chill. Fans of quick, creepy listens like *The Tell-Tale Heart* or modern podcasts like *The NoSleep Podcast* will find a kindred spirit here.

Who’s this for? If you’re a fan of horror that creeps rather than screams, or if you love a good paranormal thriller with a human pulse, this audiobook free on platforms like Everand is worth your time. It’s perfect for a rainy night when you want a story to rattle your nerves without demanding hours of commitment—ideal for travelers like me who need a tale to fit between destinations. Kasi Hollowell’s narration elevates it, making it a standout in the genre.

Reflecting on it now, *Giving Up The Ghost* feels like a snapshot from my own road stories—a fleeting encounter that leaves a mark. It’s not the sprawling epic of a cross-country trek, but the kind of brief, intense moment that sticks with you, like a ghost sighting in a dusty village. Rasmussen and Hollowell have crafted something small yet potent, a reminder that even the shortest journeys can haunt you if the telling is right.

Until the next story calls us down the road, Marcus Rivera