Tag Archives: Hauntings

“In The Company of #Ghosts” My #Blog

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Where eBooks are Sold!

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Where eBooks are Sold!

USA/Kindle: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

UK/Kindle:  Ghosts of White Raven Estate

iBooks: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

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FOLLOW THIS BLOG! And my ghost stories at  . . .  The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter 

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A question was asked on Facebook, “Which creature from the paranormal world do you prefer?”.  Well of course my answer was ‘Ghosts!’ But before you leave a comment extolling the virtues of your Fave creature, let me explained the versatility of ghosts over some of the other creatures lumbering around Supernatural Scenarios.

Ghosts are so elusive.  Sasquatch and Black-eyed kids are also elusive, but can they be conjured? All signs point to ‘No!’, so they lose out on this and other elements of my subjective comparison of Creatures.

Lonely? Ghosts make their presence known.  Plates rattle, pots and pans move about. Why, have you ever heard of a vampire jingling your car keys mid-air when the house is empty of everyone – but you?  No Creature will reassure you that you are not alone more suddenly than a ghost!

Ghosts vividly re-live The Past with you – they are, well – sentimental Creatures. Ever experience a Residual Haunting?  Zombies have long-forsaken The Past by the time they are lurching toward their next meal – just ask Dan O’Brien! Which brings me to my next point:

Zombies can handily eat you out of house and home after they have chomped off the hand that feeds them – your’s!! (And vampires will bleed you dry)  A ghost in the house will not increase your grocery bill. – or your heating bill, for that matter.

Ghosts are interactive in many cases – they will seek out your company, react to your thoughts, understand your needs – they are . . . well . . . sensitive. Look how devoted Sam was to Molly (Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze) in the 1990 devotional of a ghost who fully understood the needs of his woman.  Speaking of Sam and Molly:

Need a bed mate?  Choose ghosts!  Ghosts are much more trust-worthy than vampires in the bedroom department. My preference is the midnight incubus, but being versatile – ghosts also come in the succubus variety, according to author Gladys Quintal.

I’m not saying that ALL ghosts have sterling qualities and the makings of a BFF  Lover – there are exceptions!  Just ask Charlie Sheen who played a Wraith in the Winner-of a-Movie from 1986.  Actually, ghosts come in all kinds of ‘bad boy’ varieties!  I mean, if you want a goon to settle the score on an earthly foe, I’d choose Demons – who live in the same afterlife neighborhood as wraiths, but I believe are a touch more difficult to rid oneself of.

Red-eyed Beast from my collection, The Ghost Chaser's Daughter.

Red-eyed Beast from my collection, The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter.

So, to sum up, why did I choose Ghosts as my preference-creature on a Facebook poll?  Loyalty, Sensitivity, Presence, No-drain-on my economy, Imaginativeness at bedtime.

Now You! Which Creature-category from The Beyond strikes YOUR fancy?

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myBlog ‘The Page 69 Test’ Applied to #Ghosts of White Raven Estate

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Where eBooks are Sold!

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Where eBooks are Sold!

USA/Kindle: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

UK/Kindle:  Ghosts of White Raven Estate

iBooks: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

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FOLLOW THIS BLOG! And my ghost stories at  . . .  The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter 

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Authors and bloggers this week are discussing ‘The Page 69 Test’ – described here by Beth Groundwater.   Basically the test is to read page 69 of any novel and determine if it is the book you want to be reading — much like — according to Beth, music lovers ‘test’ a CD, album, etc. by listening to Track 7.

So! Let’s try the test-du-jour on Ghosts of White Raven Estate .  Here’s page 69 of my latest novel:

Scene:

Widow Paris is proposing to Father Vivenzio that she become Victoria’s companion-of-sorts after the priest has abducted Victoria from (Corbeau Blanc translated to: ) White Raven Estate.  The Voodoo Queen’s ulterior motive, as we will find out, is to insinuate herself into the young woman’s estate:

Let’s listen in as Widow Paris (Marie) has just asked Father Vivenzio (Giorgio)  if Victoria’s beloved cat, Bon-Bon has been delivered to the cottage where the abducted heiress is being held:

Father Vivenzio:  “Yes, [Bon-Bon was delivered] yesterday afternoon. They’re inseparable, the angel and the she-devil.”

Widow Paris chuckled, “So, she’s now happy?”

“Victoria? Wonderfully happy,” he stated sarcastically.

“Well, maybe my plan will help make things more tenable for the mademoiselle.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, Marie.”

“Don’t be. As I said, it involves money, and it involves opportunity.”

Father Vivenzio pushed his chair back from the desk.

“Comfortable, Giorgio? Ready?”

He nodded, as he picked lint off the sleeve of his robe.

“Giorgio, don’t feign disinterest. It doesn’t become you.” She watched the priest pick up his wine glass and wet his lips. “Now, listen. Mardi Gras is less than a week away. I think it would be beneficial for me to have the company of a beautiful, little white mademoiselle for an afternoon. She could join me on a shopping trip to D.P. Scanlan. Wouldn’t that set Chartres Street on fire?”

“Victoria? You want Victoria to join you on your flirts and – err – business ventures? That is what you want?”

“Of course. She’s such a beautiful little head turner, after all. Can’t you imagine how our gentlemen benefactors would be drawn to the prim virginity of such a lovely creature? I love the idea of the two of us sipping tea at Antoine’s after visiting some of the shops on Decatur Street.”

“Good luck. I could barely get her to cooperate in coming here. Correct that – she did not cooperate – barely or otherwise. Why would she want to cooperate with your devious plan?”

“Because we would propose it to her in the most glorious manner.”

“I’m not at all convinced of the upside to this plan, Marie.”

Widow Paris glared across the desk at the priest, “Alright, let me spell it out for you. She wants out! For God’s sake can you imagine being under house arrest at a convent? The horror of it all makes me shudder. The prim devotion, the prayers, the lack of fashion!”

“Alright! I get it!”

Marie noticed that while the priest refilled his own wine glass, none was offered to her.

“What do you think? A little outing?”

After a few moments time he responded. “Hmm, well maybe. Let me think about it.”

“Giorgio, what’s there to think about?”

“Marie, let me ask you this . . .if you spent time with Victoria would you be able to determine the power behind the poltergeist at Corbeau Blanc. If I’m to manage the estate—in Victoria’s behalf, of course—I need to find a way to control the, uhm, situation.”

[and this is were we turn the page. I hope you enjoyed this peek of Page 69 and that, for you, ‘Ghosts of White Raven Estate’ passes ‘The Page 69 Test’.

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Chapter 1: “Someone Is Watching” ~ #Free Read Excerpt ‘Ghosts of White Raven Estate’

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Available where eBooks are Sold!

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Available where eBooks are Sold!

USA/Kindle: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

UK/Kindle:  Ghosts of White Raven Estate

iBooks: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

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FOLLOW THIS BLOG! And my ghost stories at  . . .  The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter 

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Now that my 2013 novel, “Ghosts of White Raven Estate” is published, I’ve chosen to introduce, in this blog entry, the synopsis and Chapter 1.  In this chapter you will meet Victoria Calais and her grandmother, Madame Calais and come to realize the haunting presence that eerily hangs over their centuries old Garden District manor.

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Synopsis:

1853 New Orleans ~ As the frenzied drumbeats of Voodoo ceremonies vibrate throughout the city, Victoria Calais, beautiful ingénue and resident of New Orleans’ Garden District, is losing her vision.  A Yellow Fever epidemic has just swept the city, leaving her parents and sister dead.

As she goes blind Victoria is visited by a poltergeist that terrorizes the family priest, Father Vivenzio, a frequent (an opportunistic) visitor to the Calais’ estate, La Maison du Corbeau Blanc (The House of the White Falcon).

Unable to gain spiritual supremacy over the unworldly activity swirling through Corbeau Blanc, Father Vivenzio calls on Widow Paris, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.

The identity of Father Vivenzio’s supernatural nemesis is revealed at Mardi Gras during a wild carriage race through the streets of New Orleans!

Excerpt:  Chapter 1

1853 ~ Someone Is Watching

It all took place in the fashionable Garden District of New Orleans, where beautiful estates hide behind the screen of tree-lined boulevards. The year was 1853, during an era when family loyalties were guarded vigilantly, some even from beyond the grave.

* * *

Dusky afternoon sunlight streamed into the bedroom of young heiress, Victoria Calais, casting the room in a brooding hue that foreshadows an evening squall. Flying toward the Crescent City at that moment was the kind of storm that causes shutters to clatter, and the shadows of gnarled oaks to bob and weave across expansive lawns.

Victoria sat at her vanity, staring into her mirror but unable to make out her own reflection. Her fingertips, like the feelers of an ant, followed along the edges of each cosmetic item laid out on the embroidered runner decorating her vanity.

A gentle breeze rustled through Victoria’s bedroom, bringing with it the fragrance of rose petals, reminding her that she was not alone. Victoria stiffened and craned her neck squinting into a milky field of vision from heavy-lidded eyes.

“Hello? Who’s here?” She waited. Every instinct told her that someone was standing in the shadows of her room.

A tear rolled down her cheek. Dr. Faust’s diagnosis, delivered the previous day, had been devastating. Hysterical blindness was his prognosis. The diagnosis did not sit well with Victoria’s grandmother, Madame Calais, if her outburst was any indication.

Victoria remembered what life had been like during the weeks that Yellow Fever swept through New Orleans killing her parents, and sister, Evangeline and reached for her sister’s doll. She tugged at its skirt, causing it to fall over with a loud thunk, its porcelain head hitting the mahogany shelf.

“Meow!”

“Oh, Bon-Bon! Did I frighten you, my little pet?”

“Meow!”

Victoria turned toward the plaintive cry just as her cat bounded off the bed and pranced toward her across the richly woven carpet.

“Can you guide me back to my bed?”

Victoria followed the sound of the little bell on Bon-Bon’s collar as the cat scampered back across the room.

“Who understands what has gone on in this room better than you, my attentive little sentry.”

Victoria retraced her steps, her left arm wrapped around the doll.

“Are you there, Bon-Bon?”

A repetitious mew guided her back toward the bed, one carefully retraced step at a time.

Quite suddenly, Victoria stumbled forward, an unexpected lurch into the uncertainty that was her new world.

Bang! The doors of the wardrobe crashed shut.

“Hello! Answer me! Is someone there?”

Eerie silence hung in the air, as the room grew more chilled. Victoria scrambled to her knees looking around apprehensively as a voice called up from the bottom of the stairs. “Victoria! Are you up in your room still?”

“Yes, Grandmother!”

“What is going on? I heard something fall.”

“I tripped, Grandmother! It’s nothing! Bon-Bon was here to save me!”

“Oh, Mon Cher.” Madame Calais softened her voice. “Refresh yourself and come down, Victoria. You’ve been alone in your room all afternoon. We’ll have tea and discuss matters.”

* * *

After dinner that evening a sweeping storm ripped open the southern skies, causing rivulets to run down the side of the Calais home like the veins on the back of an old woman’s hands. In Victoria’s bedroom, shadows danced on the walls as pillar candles spit and flickered. A chill settled over the house, unusual for a New Orleans evening.

Victoria sat on the edge of her bed in semi-darkness. Candles sputtered, causing her to flinch as she sat through the evening deluge pounding at the shutters as she stared straight ahead, listening. She held tightly onto the doll that had belonged to her late sister moving her fingertips over the doll’s porcelain face with its dainty nose and rosebud lips.

“Evangeline is gone, and I am nearly blind. What is to become of us, Bon-Bon?”

The feline pawed at Victoria’s fingertips.

She swiped at her tears and squinted as a shadow passed under her bedroom door.

“Grandmother!” she called out. “Grand-mere?”

Silence loomed. There’s no one to talk to now that Evangeline is gone. Victoria peered across her room trying to blink away the veil preventing her from seeing what had been staring at her the whole time – an apparition wavering in the glow of the candles.

* ~*~ *

I hope you’ve enjoyed THIS peek of ‘Ghosts of White Raven Estate’. If you’d prefer not to wait to find out what happens next, full edition copies are available at: 

Ghosts of White Raven Estate  ~ on Kindle

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ on Nook

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ on Smashwords for iBooks

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Chapters 2 – 3 ~ #Free Read Excerpt #Ghosts of White Raven Estate

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Available where eBooks are Sold!

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ Available where eBooks are Sold!

USA/Kindle: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

UK/Kindle:  Ghosts of White Raven Estate

iBooks: Ghosts of White Raven Estate

╰☆╮☆♥*¨*• 💕💕 •*¨* ♥ ☆╰☆╮💕💕 •*¨* ♥ ☆╰☆╮

FOLLOW THIS BLOG! And my ghost stories at  . . .  The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter 

╰☆╮☆♥*¨*• 💕💕 •*¨* ♥ ☆╰☆╮💕💕 •*¨* ♥ ☆╰☆╮

 

Now that my 2013 novel, “Ghosts of White Raven Estate” is published, I’ve chosen to introduce, in this blog entry, Chapters 2 and 3.  It gives the reader insight into the relationship between Victoria Calais and her sister, Evangeline; and the tension between them that reaches into Victoria’s life from beyond the grave.  

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Chapter 2

Where the Bones Are Buried

Victoria placed the marker ribbon at that day’s journal entry and closed the leather bound book. After rummaging to make room, she slid it into the top drawer of her writing desk and locked the drawer with the tiny key strung on the gold chain that she wore around her neck. Pushing back her chair, Victoria felt her way to the bedroom window and strained to see across Prytania Street toward the scene that just two months earlier she could easily make out—the Calais Cemetery and Mausoleum. The foot traffic along Prytania Street that day would have observed Father Vivenzio on his way from St. Ann’s Church to La Maison du Corbeau Blanc. The priest smirked, The House of the White Raven, or simply Corbeau Blanc—how pretentiously mysterious. He was practicing his lines aloud as he stepped gingerly: “Madame Calais, I want to ensure that your wishes for Victoria are met.” Thinking of a better approach, he started his speech anew. Father Vivenzio continued up the curved carriage drive. Lanterns affixed to the side posts of the wrought-iron gate adorned the entrance to the driveway. He avoided the cold stare of the alabaster lions. At that very instant a crow swooped down from behind the priest. Father Vivenzio heard the flutter of wings as the vagrant soared toward him. He winced, fearing that the bird would graze his ear. The terror of rabies clutched at him as the scavenger cawed loudly, landing on its intended perch—the lantern to the right of the carriage drive. “To Hell! To Hell!” The bird responded to the banishment by turning its head left, then right, and examining the priest with one eye, then the other. Its squawk sounded a call to arms, and four more crows swooped down. In horror, the priest rushed toward the porch. He scampered up the steps and pulled on the heavy cord, sounding the bell – that announced his arrival. The door creaked opened. There stood Jasmine, imposing, judgmental. Humph! Jasmine! The slave’s face was sullen, as she looked the priest up and down. She was the one woman in the Calais household who didn’t greet the priest with adoration. No sweeping gesture that he should enter. In fact, she usually left him to close the door on his own—unless Madame Calais was standing in the foyer upon his arrival. Then it was “Father Vivenzio! I’ll be tellin’ Madame that you’ve arrived!” All nicey-nice on those occasions!

* * * 

“Father Vivenzio! I’m in here! Do come in,” Madame Calais sang. “How is Victoria? Maybe she would care to join us?” the priest inquired of his generous benefactor. “I’m sure she would, Father. But first, I’m hoping I can confide in you. I’m concerned about Victoria and her loss of vision. The epidemic that nearly wiped out our family is undoubtedly the cause of Victoria’s vision loss. I have a lot to consider, and I may need your assistance planning a course for her future.”

* * *

Victoria crossed the parlor into the conservatory as Jasmine fell back where she stood silently in the shadows of the parlor. “Victoria, darling, sit down with me and Father Vivenzio and have some lemonade. I’ve barely seen you all day.” Father Vivenzio moved to the high-backed chair across from the two women. “If I may, Madame Calais. Shall I begin?” Madame Calais patted the sofa, and Victoria took the cue to sit down as the priest began speaking. “Victoria, your grandmother has made a very generous financial gift to the church. She and I agree that the funds that she has given at your mother’s behest would best be used to renovate the convent where you stayed when your family fell ill.” Victoria gasped. “Shall I continue?” Victoria nodded. Madame Calais held her breath as Victoria glared at the priest. Then she dropped her gaze to the cat. “Bon-Bon?” The cat was flexing her claws in the hem of the reverend’s cassock. “Bon-Bon!” Father Vivenzio looked down and snatched at his robe. “Bon-Bon! No clawing!” The priest stomped his foot at the cat. It raised its back and snarled before darting back to Victoria. He shrugged his shoulders at Madame Calais, grinning sheepishly. Suddenly, with the swiftness of a panther Bon-Bon bounded from Victoria’s lap and, in one wild leap, landed at the pontiff’s feet. The feline then made a mad scramble up the front of the priest’s robe, batting and snarling. The priest screamed, a girlish cry of distress. Madame Calais let out a shriek, matching the cat’s snarl to a pitch, causing Jasmine to rush in from the parlor. The matriarch jumped up. Her teacup clattered, breaking in half. Hot rooibos tea spread over the rug like a bloodstain. “Mon Dieu! Someone, grab the cat! Dear God, what’s got into her! Get her before she scratches Father Vivenzio’s face!” “I should take my leave. Really, I should,” promised Father. As Father Vivenzio left the estate and walked along the towering wrought-iron fence, his thoughts turned to the appointment waiting for him at the rectory. He chuckled as he quickened his pace. Approaching Prytania Street a pack of dogs began to bark and snarl at him from the grounds of the cemetery. Fear danced in tiny prickles up his spine as he imagined the fangs of angry dogs tearing at his garments, biting into his skin. His breathing quickened; he cautioned himself to not appear fearful. Don’t look over. Don’t look over. A lone howl, long and mournful, emanated from the shadows of the pine grove near the back of the graveyard. The exact source of the howling could not be determined.

* ~*~ *

Excerpt Chapter 3

Before the Epidemic

When Victoria awoke, Evangeline was standing at the bedroom window, looking out over the rose garden. Moonlight flooded the room, casting her sister in profile. Evangeline’s white nightgown was no more than a gossamer veil over her young body. Everyone in the Calais family was either tossing and turning or fully awake as it was too hot to sleep in the early autumn before the Yellow Fever epidemic hit. Every creature moved about under the bright glow of the harvest moon. Katydids sang. Beetles skittered through the warm earth; spiders dropped from stalk to leaf, anchoring their glistening webs; garden snakes slithered languorously through the dewy grass, and the spirits floated back and forth between La Maison du Corbeau Blanc and cemetery, catching up on family gossip. It was too hot for all of them. “Evangeline?” “You’re awake, Victoria?” “Yes. What’s out there?” “The night voices are murmuring. I can hear them.” “Whose voice are you hearing tonight, Evie?” Victoria asked, propping herself up on her pillow and winding her long hair up off her neck. “Grandpa’s. I saw him today.” “You did?” “Oui.” “What was he doing?” Victoria fanned her sheets as Evangeline continued to look out over the tea roses, flooded in light as though it were midday. “Sitting at his desk, doing his books.” She brushed her bangs away from her forehead and pricked her nightgown away from the curves of her body. “Was he happy?” “No, he looked sad. Victoria, he looked straight at me.” “Did he say anything?” “Yes. He said one thing.” Evangeline turned to face her sister. Victoria thought how much her sister looked like an angel at that moment. “He did, Evangeline?” She pulled her knees up to her chest, waiting. “What did he say this time, Evie?” “He said, ‘I’ll see you soon, mon cher.” “He’ll appear to you again?” “I don’t know, Victoria. I just got the sense it was actually a warning.” “Why do you say that, Evie?” Evangeline looked out the window and stared, for a moment, at the full moon that hung in the indigo sky before responding, “because as the vision faded, it was replaced by a death mask.”

* ~*~ *

I hope you’ve enjoyed THIS peek of ‘Ghosts of White Raven Estate’.

Ghosts of White Raven Estates ~ on Kindle

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ on Nook

Ghosts of White Raven Estate ~ on Smashwords for iBooks

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myBlog ☆ A Sampler of ‘Halloween Past’ ☆

                  Book Trailer for eBook on Ganxy.com
Hello! Thank you for stopping by myBLOG today. I thought it might be fitting to go into Halloween Past before I release my novel, ‘Voodoo Vision’ for Halloween Present. Wouldn’t that be fun?
Paperback! FULL 22-story collection on Amazon.

Paperback! FULL 22-story collection on Amazon.

As you know, if you followed my muse through the writing of ‘The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter’ the [paperback] book is comprised of twenty-two short stories of supernatural settings ranging from eerily unexplainable phenomena, to spine-tingling terror, to haunting Hungarian legend and folklore.

For the FULL collection in eBook format, as “Ghost Stories and The Unexplained”  go to Ganxy.com! It’s PayPal easy, and Instant! And loads directly to Kindle!! Isn’t that cool??

Need eBook format? Then look for "Ghost Stories and The Unexplained" on Nook and Ganxy.com

Need eBook format? Then look for
“Ghost Stories and The Unexplained” on Nook and Ganxy.com

Do you ONLY want Amazon direct? Then, grab your ghosts in eBook format from ‘Ghost Stories and The Unexplained’ EXPANDED to Kindle!

If Amazon is your SOUL ebook vendor find your Twenty-Two Tales on Kindle!

If Amazon is your SOUL ebook vendor find your Twenty-Two Tales on Kindle!

The first twelve stories are written in autobiographical format.  Why? Well, because those events happened – to me! Or, someone that I know personally who wanted to share their experience with my readers.  The terror portion of the book is based on deathbed confessions and newspaper archives from research I have done over the years. The third part of ‘The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter’ was written last summer while I traveled the Transylvania region of Europe while living in Budapest.  The Transylvania stories include castles, legends, rebellion, and singing angels.

So! Without further ado, here are Thirteen Little Selected-Sweets from that I offered my readers in last year’s bag of treats!

1) And That’s All I Know ~*~ On Christmas Eve in 1955, my grandmother said she realized, even in her sleep, that Grandpa Jimmy was late coming home from work. She had left the Christmas tree lights on for him, glowing out toward the highway that ran past their farmhouse. Snow fell softly, sweetly, creating a false sense of security.

2) My Grandfather’s Visit ~*~ His translucent image more floated than stood in the void that stretched between us. It was though there were no earthly ties bearing down on him. He had on a narrow brim fedora and a 1950s full-length dress coat – a winter coat, actually. I was barely breathing; certainly I was filled with terror, when my ears were pricked by the sound of dog’s claws clipping across the waxed linoleum floor. A spirit dog had accompanied him as he crossed back over.

3) Turkey Creek Farm, Ohio ~*~ “She’s not there! She’s not really there!” It took me a moment before I realized that my grandmother, this chain-smoking, gin-drinking, rough farmwoman was outrunning me! She grabbed my shirt collar and yanked hard, just as I reached the edge of the embankment. We fell to the ground together as she enfolded me in her arms.

4) The Poltergeist ~*~ I never knew the extent of torment my mother endured until one particularly high-tension evening when the events I am about to relay to you unfolded. But I do know how insistent mother was that my sister, Frances, and I put away any scissors, needles, knives that were out – before we went to bed.

5) The Ouija Board Demon ~*~ The metal clip that kept the two sliders on track weren’t working, or something. The doors weren’t sliding open and shut; they were beginning to swing back and forth, hitting against the clothes hanging in my closet and then swinging into the open room as though the clip was not holding them at all. Debby Cox burst into tears as the planchette began its own movement across the Ouija board.

6) Midnight Rhapsody ~*~ It was totally dark, in a dead-quiet house, and all of a sudden eerie organ music was playing. A seven-note chord that repeated.

7) Dolls Watching ~*~ She turned to me, “Okay, here is the story. According to what I heard, Mrs. Alvarez lay dying in that room – the master bedroom. She had cancer; it had spread throughout her body. She and Antonio, her husband, had been married for fifty-two years. They both knew she was dying. Yes, he shot her.

8) Isn’t She Lovely? ~*~  “I’m so sorry Dad didn’t live just a few days longer,” I remember lamenting to my husband the day that my daughter, Jacqueline, was born. “He missed seeing her by just a few days.” My dad, Jack Chance, was fifty-four when he died of lung cancer, a few days before my daughter was born.

9) Lightning Strikes ~*~ Dennis took six tiny steps toward his wife. The old wooden rocker she sat in tipped back and forth, reacting to the impact of the bolt of lightning. The shadow on the wall swayed back and forth on the wall taunting him. Dennis’s panic-stricken shrieks finally died down to sniveling whimpers.

10) Grove of Terror ~*~ This Civil War deathbed tale is a full-length feature on Wattpad! Go There! I hope you like ‘Grove of Terror’.

11) Chunya and The Hungarian Witch ~*~ There is an oft-told tale in the land of light and shadow – far, far away in the territory that was once Transylvania. It is a story about a forest witch – a jealous old woman who had never experienced the serenity of listening to the mewing of a contended baby, or the happiness of running one’s finger tips along the soft creases of a baby’s skin.

12) To Kill Ivan Gorsky ~*~ He grabbed for his glasses – the right spectacle is broken out. Events unfold in slow motion. Gorsky realizes in horror that one of the youth is pulling a Tokarev TT Model 48 from inside his coat. He can see it so clearly, as though his senses are heightened. How in the world could any Hungarian obtain such a weapon? The youth snarled, staring at the metal pin on Ivan’s cap. He obviously recognized the hammer and sickle. The student glanced around – pandemonium reigns. The youth stood over Ivan and took aim.

13) Little Dead Girl, Seattle ~*~ “In the mirror’s reflection a little girl, dressed in white, floated past me. She was gliding down the hallway turning her head back and forth, as if she was searching for something! Honestly, I couldn’t move. I could feel a . . .I want to say an energy force, or a wave of some sort, pass by. I was shivering, and had a feeling, or intuition maybe, that she was looking for someone–undoubtedly my daughter, Danielle!”

I nodded as she continued.

“Well, the ghost levitated to the height of Danielle’s portrait–just rose up–very slowly. And then it disappeared into the image! I’m afraid to bring Danielle home now. I don’t know what to do–the house is haunted by a ghost who is seeking my daughter!”

☆♥*¨*• 💕💕 •*¨* ♥ ☆

So! There you have it! Halloween Past! I hope you are intrigued enough to grab a copy of ‘The Ghost Chaser’s Daughter’ in its iBook, eBook, or paperback edition.

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