Category: supernatural



Anyone who has lived in a haunted house will probably tell you that their animals often acted strange. Such was the case with us. We had a small dog named Tippy and he was constantly bothered by the spirits. Poor little thing. Tippy was a toy-poodle/chihuahua mix.  He was really small but had a big heart and a big personality. I loved him very much. He was my little companion. My protector. I knew I was safe when Tippy was calm. When his hackles rose (for no apparent reason) then I KNEW something was about. Not a great sign in any case and moments that I totally dreaded.

Once we accepted that our house was haunted, we started looking at things happening there with “open” eyes. No longer were we trying to reason away strange events. We accepted that “the ghosts did it” and that was that.  We (my mother and I) soon began digging around for information on the paranormal, determined to learn what we could about spirits, hauntings and the like. It was during this phase that I had one of my scariest moments.

I was in eighth grade at the time (about 13?) and had walked home from school (a 3 mile walk!) for it was a gorgeous day and I did not want to wait around an hour or so for the bus. I was hoping my mom would be home from work when I got there but alas, she was not. I opened the front door and let Tippy out. Together we sat on the step as I made up my mind what to do…go in the house for a drink (I was VERY thirsty) or wait and do it when my mom or my siblings got home.  Now aware of the ghosts, I was more than ever reluctant to be in the house alone. Never comfortable in any case, it was worse KNOWING unseen people were floating in the air around me!

Finally I did a little pep talk and convinced myself that the ghosts were not going to hurt me and I needed to stop being afraid. Besides, I had Tippy with me and he would know if “they” were around or not. So, feeling some trepidation but determined to overcome it, I stood up, turned around and looked into the dark interior of the house. It was always dark in there…even in the middle of the day in bright sunlight! And it was always cool, regardless of the summer heat. Shoring up my nerves, I walked into the house.

I remember my back crawling with the uncomfortable feeling that someone was right behind me but since Tippy seemed okay, I decided to be okay too and ignored the feeling.  I went down the hall into the kitchen and through to the pantry where the refrigerator was and thus the drink I intended to get. Tippy didn’t come in the pantry with me. He didn’t like it in there and rarely entered. He plunked down on the kitchen floor a short distance away and watched my every move with dog-like curiosity. He always seemed so interested in what I was doing. I loved that dog. He lives in my heart to this day and always will.

So anyway. I open the fridge, pull out the pitcher of Koolaid, turn to the counter and grab a glass from the cupboard. So far so good. My back still continued to crawl with that uncomfortable feeling and the house was cool (scary old house kind of cool but then, I was used to it at this point).  I felt safe. My confidence was building. No ghost was going to scare me. No sirree, I was fine. Just fine.

As I started to pour the Koolaid into my glass, Tippy began to growl low in his throat. I literally froze. I’m not even sure if I could breathe at this point. Tippy’s growl turned almost instantly into a snarl as he scrambled to his feet. Something was about. Great. Just freaking great! I tell you, I wanted to turn around and look but I was scared to death and couldn’t move even if I wanted to. That whole “frozen in fear” thing? Totally real. In all honesty, I didn’t WANT to see what Tippy saw. Finally, somehow, I managed to turn my head and look at my dog. His eyes were focused on the corner of the kitchen to my right of the pantry doorway. Okay, good. Whatever just joined us, it wasn’t in the pantry with me. For that I was rather grateful. I set the pitcher down and turned around. Of course I saw nothing.

Tippy was now snarling quite viciously, his little teeth bared, his ears flat back, his tail between his legs. His entire body shook so bad his toenails clicked rapidly on the floor. I knew I had no choice but to step forward and look around the doorway into the kitchen. I HAD to look. No way around it. My heart pounding in a furious beat that actually hurt, I took a step and leaned just enough forward to look at the corner of the kitchen Tippy was fixated on. My terrified brain imagined all sorts of gruesome scenarios. Would something jump out and grab me as soon as I leaned far enough forward for it to do so? It was, I must say, one of the worst moments of my life. However, I saw nothing. Thank God. I was ever so GLAD I wasn’t one of those people who saw the dead (or whatever…for one part of me always worried it wasn’t a ghost in that corner but something worse)!

Of course I was hoping an animal had somehow made its way into the house and that’s what Tippy was growling at. The corner he was focused on had three items occupying it. The washer and dryer and a chair. No animals, no dark shapes, nothing to account for Tippy’s ferocious snarling. Then he began to retreat, moving backwards toward the kitchen table. Worried he’d hightail it out of the house and leave me there alone, I scooted down and called him to me. He glanced my way, whined as if to say he’d like nothing more than to be in the safety of my arms, then returned his focus to the corner.

Praying to God while pleading with my dog, I can tell you I was pretty occupied in self-preservation. Tippy started to come to me, actually taking a few reluctant steps out from under the kitchen table, but then he suddenly scrambled backwards as if something had charged at him. His snarls turned into yelps of fear, his high-pitched cries scaring me even more than the snarls because it meant he felt highly threatened. He moved under a chair and obviously felt a bit safer for his pitiful cries turned into earnest barking. I can’t tell you how desperately I wanted out of that house. But I was scared to leave the pantry. What if IT came after me?

It took some tearful pleas but eventually Tippy tried again to join me. He got about half-way across the kitchen floor, moving nearly on a belly crawl, when he suddenly made a terrified scramble back to the safety of the table, yelping the whole time as if something were hurting him. Since he wasn’t writhing around, I figured it was more fear that made him cry that way than actual pain. At this point, I was pretty much in tears and I think Tippy realized my desperation. His snarls lowered into whines and it truly seemed to me that he was trying to figure out a way to get to me. Though he looked at me from time to time, his focus remained fixed on the kitchen corner.

It was only a matter of seconds, but it seemed an age had passed before he finally left the kitchen table and ran behind the big cast iron stove that took up most of the wall space to his right (my left).  Keeping close to the wall (actually rubbing his body against it as he moved along), Tippy slowly made his way to me. He kept his head lowered so he could see under the stove (it stood off the floor on thick cast-iron legs about three inches). His attention never wavered from that corner. When he got to the end of the stove, there was about three feet of floor space between him and me, Tippy stood there and whined pitifully. He wanted me to come get him and I wanted to do that. But I didn’t dare. He had to be the brave one. Poor little bugger. I loved that dog.

I  inched over as far as I could go in the doorway and leaned forward. A quick glance at the corner to my right continued to show nothing there (thank GOD for small favors!). I turned to my left and focused on my dog, stretching my arms forward and praying to God the thing in the corner wouldn’t attack them! Tippy glanced from me to the corner and then made a run for it. He jumped up into my arms and I was SO RELIEVED. I knew he couldn’t save me if the entity decided to get nasty, but at least I would know if it were coming after us and where it was.

Tippy twisted about so he could keep an eye on that freakin corner. His tail was tucked between his legs, his shivering still out of control. His front legs were wrapped right around my hands! Thankfully, he wasn’t growling anymore.  Instead, he was making low whining sounds deep in his throat. We HAD to get out of the house and there was only one way out. I said a prayer asking for God’s protection and that helped a lot. Thank the good Lord for my faith. Otherwise … well, there is no otherwise.

Holding Tippy in front of me like a shield, I stepped out of the pantry and made sure to face that corner the entire time. This meant backing out of the kitchen but so be it. I was NOT going to turn my back on that THING…whatever it was. Tippy continued his low whining and that helped my bravery somewhat for it meant whatever he saw was keeping its distance. We nearly made it to the open space between the table and the stove (just a couple feet more and I’d be in the hallway leading to the front door!) when Tippy began to growl. My heart did a little lurch of fear and I stopped moving for a moment. There’s nothing worse than having your body disobey your brain, especially when you want to run and your feet refuse to budge!

Tippy started snarling and then lunged forward repeatedly as if attacking and biting something! My God, I was so darned scared. I truly feared for my life. As Tippy continued to snap at the air and snarl viciously, my feet finally started moving again. It’s hard to walk on shaking legs but I did it!

Once I made it into the hallway, I knew I was going to have to make a run for it. So, with one final plea to God for protection, I turned and ran as fast as I could for the open doorway. Tippy twisted his way out of my arms and hit the floor running. We both flew out that doorway as if the hounds of hell were after us. The skin on my back cringed with fear but there was no stopping me now. I jumped off the step onto the dirt and literally hit the ground running. Tippy was ahead of me now and yelping in fear. Together we ran out of the yard and up the road. I ran until I couldn’t catch my breath and had to stop. When Tippy saw that I was no longer running with him, he came back to join me. I collapsed on the ground and he jumped into my arms and licked my face. He was as happy as I was to be free. And alive!

I’ll never know what Tippy saw that made him react that way and I’m pretty sure I don’t WANT to know. There were other incidents with our dog but I’ll save them for another post. This one has brought back enough memories.

Have any of you experienced anything like this? I’d love to hear your stories! Thanks so much for stopping by my blog! Until next time…blessings to all and Peace Out!


One major problem you encounter when living in a haunted house is that things are always disappearing! SOMETIMES you eventually find them (in some odd place) but we lost things that were never to be seen again. I still wonder where they went? It’s a good question…WHERE do our physical things go when they seemingly disappear into thin air? Another dimension? Do they simply dematerialize and exist no more? It’s a mystery. For sure.

In our haunted old farmhouse, we lost many different items: toys, tools, books (the first book I wrote is among those lost items!), spices. Yeah, spices. I remember one day I decided to make an apple pie. I took a brand new can of ground cinnamon out of the cupboard and set it alongside all my other ingredients (I like to have everything RIGHT THERE when I need it!). My brothers broke out into a argument in the living room and so I went in to take care of it (I was babysitting at the time). After telling them to “knock it off”, I went back to the kitchen to finish putting my pie together. I noticed right away that the cinnamon was gone. Since all four of my siblings were in the living room when I went in to break up the fight, I knew they couldn’t have taken it. I looked everywhere and I mean EVERYWHERE for that darned can of cinnamon. Nada. Zip. Nothing. I offered my greedy little siblings a dollar (big money back in the day!) for the one who found it. Still we got nothing. We never did find that can of spice.

There was another time that I had a picture of my grandparents blown up into several 8×10 photos. Since we didn’t have any picture frames to put them in when I finally received them in the mail (back when you had to send away to have such things done!), my mom told me to put the pictures up someplace safe. I put them behind the big-assed antique mirror on the dresser in my parents’ bedroom. One, the kids (the only ones I thought I needed to worry about destroying them) never went in my parents’ room. Two, the mirror was so heavy it wasn’t going anywhere and it would protect the pictures from getting damaged. Three, it was a GREAT hiding spot. My mom called my grandparents and told them the pictures had arrived and my grandfather came right over to get his copy. I ran upstairs to get them…GONE! We pulled that ten-ton (or so it seemed!) dresser from the wall, pulled out the drawers, checked the entire room…nada. Zip. We got nothing. Even when we finally moved out of that house, we never found those pictures. Bummer that because there are precious few pictures of my grandparents posing together.

BUT, the best story I’ve saved for last. I was twelve at the time and had a pet parakeet. We had one of those bird cages that hung from it’s own stand. We kept him in the corner of the living room. My parents were going away on a trip to Florida (without us kids which was a real bummer) and so the five of us got farmed out among friends and family. I stayed with my mom’s friend Beth who lived just up the road from the house. She had several cats and told me not to bring the bird. I was quite concerned about leaving him in the house alone but my grandfather assured me he’d go over every couple days or so and check on things (my parents were supposed to be away just over a week I think). So, even though I felt uneasy about leaving my bird, I had no choice but to go with the plan. Then came the phone call.

My Gramps was at the house and he wanted to know where the bird was. I told him he was in the living room where he’s always been (my grandfather was a frequent visitor to our home so he was quite familiar with everything). Gramps said he wasn’t there…that the cage and all was gone! Beth and I jumped in her car and skiddaddled down to the house to see for ourselves. Sure enough…my bird was gone. The newspaper was on the floor where the cage usually sat (he was a messy little thing!) but the cage, the pole it hung from…all was gone. Beth and Gramps decided that mom and dad must have found someone to take him. I didn’t think it likely, they didn’t much care about the bird and were not concerned in the least about leaving him in the house alone. But what other explanation was there?

So, days later my parents return and my mom calls Beth to tell her she can bring me back home. I urge Beth to ask my mom about my bird. I can remember this clear as day, “Judy, what did you do with Debbie’s bird?”, there’s a pause and then Beth looks incredulous (I think to myself, Oh no! Something has happened to him!). She looks at me and says, “Your mom says the bird is there at the house.” Then Beth says, “Did you bring him back because he’s been missing since you’ve been gone.” Again Beth looks incredulous. My mom tells her they didn’t do anything with that stupid bird. She claims it was there in the corner of the living room when they got home (a couple days early, mind you, because they said they missed us kids!). Beth and I hop in the car and head for the house. Did we think my mom was lying to us about the bird being right where he should be? I don’t know, but we had to see for ourselves. Yup, there he is, fat and happy in his CLEAN cage, his food and water dishes full. My mom doesn’t believe us that the bird has been missing and we don’t believe her that she didn’t have something to do with his disappearance! We never did settle that argument I don’t think because neither side could figure out any other explanation. It remains one of the strangest mysteries we encountered in that farm house to this day!

On a side note, I have to add how this tale of my parakeet came to an end. A few months after this incident, I had a dream that I was playing with my bird (I was trying to train him to sit on my finger) and after awhile, I closed his cage and started walking away. Just as I got to the door that leads out to the front hallway I felt a flutter near my head and ducked. It was my bird. He flew right out the open front door and off into the big blue sky. Disturbed by the dream, I stayed away from him all day. Finally, in the late afternoon, I decided if the dream was going to come true (I’d had several other dreams about things that ended up happening the very next day!) it would have done so already. I went to my bird and tried (unsuccessfully) to get him to sit on my finger. I was sure I closed his cage because, again, I was worried about that dream! So, as I was heading out of the living room, I felt something flutter over my head and I ducked. It was my bird. He flew right out the open door and was never seen again. End of story.

It’s quite frustrating to lose things YOU JUST HAD in your hand, but it happened all the time in that house. The five of us kids got blamed for a lot of it but I have to tell you, even we were baffled. Many times we discussed the situation among ourselves for really, we were quite honest with each other. Oh we had the occasional upset when we’d think my oldest brother was the guilty party (he really was a bit of a brat at times) but for the most part, we knew it wasn’t us taking all those things, or moving all those things, or opening all those doors or … well, you get the picture.  Those danged ghosts probably got a kick out of their pranks but we didn’t much enjoy them. No.

So, has anyone else had that sort of experience? I’d love to hear your stories. Until next time, many blessings to all and Peace Out!


Last night I watched a show I recorded on my DVR (love the DVR!!) about an exorcism of a young boy believed to be possessed by the devil.  The documentary was called “In the Grip of Evil” and it was supposed to be the inspiration for author William Peter Blatty‘s “The Exorcist“.  Of course the show gave an accounting of the events which took place (based on journal documentations of the exorcism) and included a commentary from a believer’s standpoint (one of the priests who took part in the exorcism) and a non-believer’s standpoint (someone supposedly more “educated” and thus more believable).  Actually, I think there were a couple of people trying to dispute the idea that possession can actually occur.  It really annoys me when people try to pass off strange events (especially those not easily explained) as a “hallucination”.  Really?  Isn’t life itself a hallucination?  So anyway…

What creeped me out a bit watching that show was the part where the bed started shaking.  You know what? That really does happen.  And it’s freaky as all hell.

I’m not sure how old I was when I experienced one of the creepy-odd events in that old farmhouse, but I’m going to guess I was about twelve.  I’d say it’s a pretty good guess because I was reading quite a bit by this point (all my mom’s Harlequin and Silhouette romance books), and I know it occurred before we accepted that the house was haunted … otherwise, I think I would have been terrified out of my freakin mind!

My parents were having a “get together” of friends and family (they liked to play guitars and sing).  The five of us kids were banished to the upstairs bedrooms.  Not in the mood to play, especially with my younger siblings (I was the oldest of five), I grabbed a book and headed for my parents’ room to read.  My rambunctious sibs played in the other two bedrooms and left me alone.

Although I got a little nervous sometimes while hanging out in my parents’ bedroom (you know, that spine-tingly, something-doesn’t-feel-right feeling), I really wanted to be on my own so I could read undisturbed.  I made myself comfortable on the bed, pillows propped behind me, and was soon lost in the story.  I have to tell you, when I’m reading, my mind is fully engaged and I don’t notice anything going on around me.  I’m not sure how long it was before the slight tremors in the bed made my hands shake and thus, interrupted my reading.  Curious, I lifted my head and took note.  The tremors were slight at first.  More like a strong vibration.  I wondered what could be causing it but I wasn’t scared at this point.  I was more intrigued than anything.  After a few minutes, I figured the shaking had to be caused by the kids running around in the next room and went back to my book.  The shaking grew worse.

Okay, now I knew something was definitely up.  Slight tremors I could explain away, big-time shaking…not so much.  As the bed shaking grew worse (they came in spurts), I immediately suspected that it had to be my brother (whom I will refer to as “J”) because he was always up to some mischief and the others were too small to make the bed do anything. My parents had a wrought-iron bed at the time…it was a heavy-assed bed…and it was up pretty high from the floor.  There was lots of crawl space underneath it (I know because it was always a favorite hiding spot when playing hide-and-go-seek). I set the book down, twisted around onto my stomach and then leaned over the edge to take a look.

While hanging there peering at empty space (definitely no visible bodies or anything else for that matter), the bed shook hard and I had to grab at the mattress to keep from falling off.  Now I’m scared.  What the hell?  No, I’m sure I didn’t think those exact words, but I sure am thinking them today!!  I pushed myself back up in a sitting position and considered my dilemma.  I wanted to get off the bed, but I wasn’t sure if it was safe to do so.  While pondering this, a spool of thread … green, I believe … started rolling across the floor.  I have no idea where the spool came from.  It rolled from beneath the window on the wall to my left toward the wall on my right.  I watched it with growing unease.  The spool rolled slowly at first and then gained speed, banging into the wall, bouncing off, going still then taking off for the opposite wall where it would do the same thing.  Sometimes the damned thing would stop just before hitting the wall…rest for a few seconds and then go flying across the room as if someone had just whacked the crap out of it.  The bed tremors continued but at this point I was more worried about the self-propelling spool of thread! Although I was scared to death, I somehow managed to crawl to the end of the bed so I could see if maybe one of the cats was causing the spool ruckus.  Nope.  No cats.  No kids.  Nothing. Which of course, it couldn’t be “nothing” could it?

Although I was quite young, I knew…I KNEW…that a spool of thread shouldn’t act the way that one was acting.  The fast and slow rolls, the bounce off the wall into an abrupt stop.  No, it wasn’t normal.  When it once again bounced off the wall on my right (the furthest wall from the bed) and then rolled slowly toward me, my trepidation grew in one heart-pounding leap.  The spool rolled slow and steady until it was under the bed.  Then it stopped.  I waited.  Nothing.  Finally, I HAD to know…and I forced myself to lean over the bed to look, though this time I had a tight hold of the foot rail.  No WAY was I getting tossed off that bed!  Honestly, I thought it showed an extreme act of courage to do that!  I STILL think as much!! As soon as my eyes found that stupid spool, it shot out and hit the wall to the left, bounced off, stopped and then rolled slowly toward the open bedroom doorway.  It stopped just at the threshold.

After a few seconds of waiting (the spool rocked a little but it stayed in place), I found my voice and called out to my siblings.  It was J who came to the door.  I was holding the wrought-iron foot-rail and praying for dear life at this point.  “Go get mom!”  It took some convincing…okay pleading…but something (probably my terrified expression, or perhaps the panic in my voice) told J I wasn’t playing around and he finally took off down the stairs.  The bed shaking had stopped as soon as J came to the door and the spool remained still.

After a bit of convincing (my mom didn’t want to respond to J’s summons at first) she finally came up the stairs and stood in the doorway, “What?” Although she was quite annoyed to be called upstairs, thank God she came!

I pointed to the spool of thread.  “That spool was rolling around the room all by itself.”

Mom looked down, saw the spool and picked it up.  “One of the cats was probably playing with it.”

“There aren’t any cats in the room.  And the bed is shaking.”

“Well it’s probably vibration from the music.”

Really?  Then why did it stop?  The music was going strong downstairs…no vibration to be had.  I scrambled off the bed and exited my parents’ room before Mom could disappear down the stairs.  I was afraid to go in there after that but I would do so if someone else were with me.  It seemed the bed wouldn’t shake if there was more than two people in the room.

I tried an experiment after we started communicating with the spirits (about a couple years later) and actually went to my parents’ room to see if anything would happen.  When the bed began to shake, I was “gone, baby gone” … out that door in no-time-flat.  No more experiments for me!  My mom had similar bed-shaking experiences.  As for my dad, he never complained about the bed shaking but he did complain about something shaking him!  Once he joined the “this house is haunted” band-wagon (something he resisted for quite some time as my dad was a hard-core, no-nonsense sort of person), a move to a new place became imminent.  None of us wanted to be there anymore.  I hadn’t wanted to be there since the “monster” incident I wrote about in Part II so I was pretty ecstatic about leaving.

I can’t say at what point we began to blame the ghosts for all the strange things happening in that house but I can tell you, once we became aware of such a possibility, we really started noticing things. Yes, I know…our imaginations could have been fueled by our beliefs but even so…that doesn’t explain HOW some of the things that happened there, happened there.  To this day I wonder.  Why?  What was the point in it all? What do they want? Where are they?  Why are they still there? (the house is gone, but they are still there…I KNOW it).

So, that’s my shaking-bed story.  What say you?  Ever have anything like that happen to you?  I tell you, I can’t look at a spool of thread and not think about this story.  It’s as freaky now as it was then.  But it wasn’t just a spool of thread that developed a life of its own…no. Heck, freakin no.  I’ll leave those stories for future posts.

That’s it for now!  Tune in again for Part IV if you dare! (smile)  Thanks for stopping by.  Until next time, Blessings to all and Peace Out!


Last year I started this blog and since my interests (among many!) are attracted to anything dealing with the paranormal/supernatural and the books I write also include such subject matter, it was only natural that I would blog about that stuff too.  I became interested in matters of the “unknown” and “mysterious” when me and my family moved into a haunted old farm house back when I was seven years old.  I’ve always said I would write a book about our experiences there but, interesting though various events were, I’m not sure I could keep the page-gripping momentum going through an entire book.  I mean…there’s no final big show down or climatic end…we simply moved out.  We had had enough.  I do, however, have a great “novel” idea for a future book which will be loosely based on our experience there.  One of these days I’ll actually get down to writing “The Haunted Farm House” (or whatever I end up calling it) but that book will be a work of fiction and I would love to share what REALLY happened.  What better way to do that than a blog series!

Now, all my earliest blog posts were about my experiences in that house but I sort of crammed them all together as it seemed once the dam broke on my reminiscences, I wanted to get it all out there quickly.  So instead of reposting those, I’m going to rehash all the same stories again, minus the eager blog-post-overload I engaged in before!  This way, I can really convey what it is we experienced and maybe explore my own thoughts on it a little more … now that I know what I know!

For this post, I want to give a little history about the house, what I remember of it (I was 7 when we moved in and I was 14 when we moved out).  Despite the many years that have past, my memories are still pretty vivid and I continue to dream about that place to this day … thirty plus years later!  A homestead has been on the property since settlers began arriving in the area back in the 1760s.  The place used to be a farm (thus we dubbed our home “the farmhouse”) and many tragic events happened there.  Barns were struck by lightening at least twice that I know of and many animals were killed.  Although many adults died on the property (remember, it’s been settled a long time!), several children died there as well (I can’t tell you how it was they died but I do know that one of them drowned in a well which was filled in afterwards, thank God!).  We even uncovered a story about one of the house’s inhabitants being tarred and feathered by the town!

So, how do we know about some of the folks who died on our property or in our home?  Because they are buried in a tomb a couple hundred yards behind the house.  The inscriptions of eleven people are engraved in the granite stone facings of the tomb’s front wall (the rest of the tomb was buried in a mound of dirt long since overgrown with grass and brush).  A small rusted metal door about three feet high and two feet wide was it’s access point.  When curiosity led us to that tomb, I remember the door was slightly ajar.  A few years later (I was about 12 I think), I would actually have the nerve (or stupidity) to enter it!  My mother tells me that TWELVE people were actually laid to rest in that tomb.  She did a lot of research on the property when we finally accepted that it was haunted and sadly, all those research papers were given to a friend who then lost them! No matter, what happened in that house prior to our living there was not as much a concern to us as what happened after we moved in!  Though I suppose past events certainly affected future ones!  For one thing, there has to be a reason why all those spirits chose to hang around in our dimension rather than moving on in their spiritual journey.  When I say “all those spirits” I have to explain here that we figured somewhere along the line that four spirits shared our home with us.  One of them was not a good one.  I think if you are a bad person in physical life, you aren’t going to suddenly become good in the afterlife.  Probably this is why that particular spirit hangs out in our dimension (sometimes called “plane” in other writings on this subject).  I mean, what’s his alternative?  Hell?

The house was two stories high.  The first floor mainly consisted of the living room (where the oil stove was located and the only source of heat for the entire house!) and the kitchen.  Both rooms were spacious and nearly the same size.  A huge cast iron stove pretty much dominated the kitchen.  It was fueled by oil on one side (it was my job to fill the oil can…a chore that meant a trip down a long creepy spider infested corridor in the old barn) and propane gas on the other side.  The stove top on the oil burning side was smooth and flat, almost like a griddle.  It took quite a while to heat up so we mostly used it as a source of heat for the kitchen.  We also used this side to slowly boil down sap for maple syrup.  It was perfect for that job!  The propane side was used for most all the cooking.  The oven was a learning experience to cook in as it was hard to regulate the heat.  But as I loved to cook and my mother was okay with my kitchen experimentations, I did learn how to use it!  I remember the door to that oven was heavy cast iron and in later years it would play a part in an accident involving BOTH my parents!  A small pantry was off the kitchen and this is where the old cast iron sink covered in worn porcelain was located.  It had a faucet you had to pump to get water!  In today’s day and age, that would be considered rather “novel” but we found it out-dated and my father was quick to replace it!  I know that one of the more recent of the past residents (prior to our moving in) had died in the pantry.  This room more than any of the others always creeped me out the most, probably because I had to go in there so much.  I HATED that room and unfortunately, this is where the dishes needed to be washed (also my chore) and where all the food and dishes were stored.  The refrigerator was in there as well.  My little dog Tippy didn’t like to go in the pantry and so I couldn’t use him as a “deflector” for the spirits while I was in there.  I usually had to bribe one of my siblings (I have three brothers and a sister all younger than me) to come in there with me as I felt safer when I wasn’t alone.  I needed them to watch my back for I always felt like someone was in there with me, standing at my back, breathing on my neck.  It sent chills down my spine (that really happens!) and it seemed my flesh was always crawling with discomfort.

The one bathroom was off the kitchen (sharing a wall with the pantry).  It didn’t have any lighting and I hated it.  Of course my parents put a lamp in there but the light did nothing to dispel the creep factor.  Who knows what that room was before it was converted (before indoor plumbing, there was an outhouse).  Another room, which eventually became my bedroom when I got older, was also off the kitchen … you actually had to enter this room to get to the bathroom.  Another doorway to this room connected to the front hallway and directly across that was another entry to the living room.  So basically you could run circles through all the rooms on the first floor.  No doors were on any of these entrances and that was probably to allow heat to circulate throughout.  Next to the doorway between the kitchen and living room were two other doors.  Coming from the living room, the one on the left went out to the barn and the one straight ahead went down to the cellar.  Though the five of us kids played in the barn all the time (it was chock full of old antiques!), we were terrified of the cellar.  Since the door wouldn’t stay closed, my parents used to keep a butter knife stuck in the door frame to keep it from opening.  The cellar had a dirt floor, it was damp down there and cold…always cold, no matter the season.  It also had a room built down there…near the center…that looked like a tomb.  In fact, we called it the “tomb room”.  It had an arched ceiling and was constructed entirely of bricks.  We later found out that bodies were sometimes kept in this room until they could be transported to the tomb or buried!

The stairway to the second floor was off the kitchen and above the cellar staircase.  Since it was an enclosed staircase, it had a door down in the kitchen and in the winter we closed off the upstairs and the seven of us all crowded downstairs to stay warm.  I have to admit here that I loved the winters in that house the most!  It seemed that paranormal activity was not so busy in the winter and the house was actually warm!  Maybe the spirits didn’t bother us so much because we were all together and happy and that somehow helped to ward off their activity.  Who knows?

On the second floor were four rooms.  Straight ahead of the stairs was my parents’ room.  There was a “window” in the wall in my parents’ room to what we dubbed “the dark room”.  We always found it peculiar that someone would put a window (no glass, however, just a gaping black hole) between two rooms.  To the left of the stairs was an open room which was where my brothers slept.  My sister and I had the bedroom at the end of their room.  The doorway to the dark room was in my brothers’ room and I will tell you that the five of us kids were quite scared of it.  It was dark in there because there was no outside window (my mother hung a picture over the hole so no light could enter from their room either).  A light fixture hung from the ceiling (right next to it was the access door to the crawl space under the roof) but we never kept a light in there because my parents used the room to store some of the old furniture left in the house that we had no plans to use.  It was the ultimate dare for us kids to go in that room.  Needless to say, most of us didn’t take up the challenge and if we did, it wasn’t for long.  My mother hung a curtain over the doorway and the thing moved often.  I tell you, that room had some negative vibes attached to it.  In my mother’s research, we learned that a handicapped child was kept in there!  Back in the day, people with disabilities were kept hidden from public view.  Thank God we don’t do that anymore!!

The upstairs was usually cool in temperature no matter the weather but I feel that most of the spirits hung out in my parents’ bedroom more so than the other two.  At least for me, that’s where I experienced the most paranormal activity on the second floor.  On either side of the stairwell were cubby holes that actually were crawl spaces between the bedroom walls and the roof.  My parents used these crawl spaces for storage but us kids did play in there on occasion.  Though we did get creeped out over time and stopped going in there.  It could have been our over-active imaginations but then again, we were just small kids and ghosts were unknown entities to us.  When we were in those cubby holes and feeling like someone else was in there with us, we beat a hasty retreat, scared though we didn’t know why.  We just KNEW something wasn’t right.  The feeling wasn’t always there, however, in the beginning.  Maybe over time our continued use of the cubby holes attracted their attention or maybe they became so attached to us they followed us everywhere and so it felt more and more uncomfortable as time went on.

So that’s the complete layout of the house.  As for the location, it was built slightly back from the road on a level area midway up a hill (we had no nearby neighbors as this was farm country).  Below us was the Orland River (an often used route for Native American Indians which peppered the entire Orland region at one time!).  The Orland River ran past our property to Alamoosook Lake and it was here (on the surrounding shores of the lake and the banks of the river) that several Indian burial grounds were located.  At one time the Red Paint Indians inhabited the area.  They were a mysterious tribe that disappeared several thousand years ago.  They were called the Red Paint Indians (later called the Maritime Archaic) because their burial sites were filled with red ocher (a bi-product of hematite).  I can’t help but wonder if that house was located near another Indian burial site not yet discovered?  Pure conjecture on my part, but it is possible.  But anyway … a large field surrounded our house (our landlord “hayed” it during the late summer) and then the land rose sharply and became heavily wooded.  Across the street from our house was a pasture where our landlord kept a few horses, a couple cows and a mean ole bull (at least for a couple of the years that we lived there).  In the winter the animals were taken away and we loved to go over there and slide down the hill on our sleds.  I can say that the pasture was free of spirits and that is probably why we loved playing over there so much.

I do believe that some areas are conducive to paranormal activity.  I’ve since learned that there are “ley lines” networking across the earth and at certain connection points, these ley lines are believed by some to create a sort of “portal” to the other side.  I truly believe that the area where our farmhouse was located (it has since been torn down and no trace of it remains) is a “hot” spot for supernatural activity.  Even now, when we pass by there, I get the creeps.  My skin crawls and I know they are still there.  It doesn’t matter that the house is gone.  They are not.  And they continue to plague my dreams.

So, that’s it for this post.  I wanted to introduce our infamous old house first and then concentrate on particular paranormal events that happened there in future posts.  The picture I’ve included was taken during a nighttime visit there a few years back (a couple years before it was tore down).  My brother was big into “ghost hunting” at the time and he convinced me to go with him to the farmhouse.  I don’t know how he managed to talk me into it.  I truly believe something bad hangs out there and I was really worried about it following me home!  The two windows on the second floor is where my old bedroom was located (the small window below went to the pantry).  You can see the orb clear as day.  Now, I know there’s a lot of controversy about orbs but my gut tells me some of them really are spiritual energy centers … and that’s what spirits are in the most simplest terms…we are all beings of energy!  Certainly a lot of so-called orbs captured on film are specks of dirt, bugs, moisture drops, etc.  But not all of them.  This orb…it’s one of THEM.  I KNOW it.  They wanted me to know they were still there.  And they knew who we were.  I felt that with as much certainly as I felt the goosebumps on my arms and the standing hairs on my neck.

I saw the orb in the review screen on my camera and hightailed it for the car.  I yelled for my brother to “Come on let’s get out of here, we need to leave NOW!” and he of course took his sweet time.  Before getting into the car he stopped to take a picture of it.  My mother and husband were waiting inside with me.  My brother looked at the review screen on his camera and hurried (finally!) to show us what he had captured.  The car was surrounded by orbs.  Unfortunately, the computer those pictures were downloaded to crashed on us and all the pictures were lost.  Bummer that.  I tell you, I FELT them.  And though I’m not so scared of spirits as I was when I was a kid, I still am afraid of THEM.  Or at least I am of one of them.  Needless to say, I did a lot of protection prayers as we sped away!

Okay, NOW I’m done!  In my next post, I’ll explain a particularly scary event that changed everything for me … turning our home from a fun place to live (the yard was our oyster!) to a chilling place of fear.  Until next time…blessings to all and Peace Out!


For those interested or curious about the supernatural, writers of such books are some of the best people in which to engage a conversation!  If they aren’t reading about it or writing about it they are thinking about it!  At least they are in context of how it applies or factors in to their stories.  To write supernatural thrillers, you have to have a pretty good imagination.  Okay, okay, to write ANYTHING, you have to have a good imagination but when it comes to writing stories that include supernatural elements, you have to let that imagination take you places that might feel uncomfortable.  You have to unleash your creativity, really let it go, and set your logical reasoning aside (you know, the “this is impossible” kind of thoughts).  Writers of such books are also READERS of such books and I don’t think you’ll find a writer in existence (not a really good one anyway!) who isn’t a voracious reader.  Jeff Bennington does it all.  He writes books, he reads books, he maintains a very active, popular blog about those things and he is the founder of The Kindle Book Review which helps authors, especially INDIE authors (individuals who are publishing on their own).  As promised, here is Part II of my interview with the very cool, very imaginative Jeff Bennington!

Questions for Jeff are in Bold print and any comments I made to his answers are in Bold Italics.

You obviously write what you like to read…so what other books have you particularly enjoyed that are similar to your own stories?

Not many actually. I’ve always been a non-fiction reader. Fiction had always come in second place for me until the last few years. I’ve read a little Stephen King, a little Koontz, a couple of Scott Nicholson books. I think those authors have influenced me some, but I haven’t read enough of any of their works to have adopted their styles. I think my writing style has been influenced more by classic authors like Charlotte Bronte and Robert Louis Stevenson. The more I write, the more I desire to get to the heart of the character.

Stephen King had quite an impact on me as well.  His book “The Shining” really got my imagination going.  As for Dean Koontz, I love his Odd Thomas series in which the main character can see ghosts. But the book that really fired up my imagination was “Audrey Rose“.  That story has actually had the biggest impact on my own writing interests.  I think the books that attract and influence writers can tell readers a lot about the kind of stories you are going to get from them.

Can you share a little about how Twisted Vengeance came to be? Is there a sequel in the future? (I’m hoping!)

YES, I’d love to! Twisted Vengeance was the result of one of those WOW moments when I was driving. I remember driving with my wife into town and for no apparent reason the concept just hit me: a creepy kid haunts a cop who’s already struggling with life and as he investigates several unsolved murders, the boy leads him to the killer… but then there’s the TWIST and the MYSTERY, the WHO DUN IT and the WHY OH WHY ending. That hit me all at once and I practically crashed the car! I had to write the story line down… on anything. I think I used a napkin from the glove compartment.

I’m excited to say that there is a sequel. I’m on chapter 5 right now and plugging along nicely. I think Detective Rick Burns has a lot of potential for an extended series. The sequel is going to take Rick out of Indianapolis and bring him into New York City — Hell’s Kitchen to be exact… a place I’ve visited often and plan to revisit this summer/fall.

I’m excited you are writing a sequel to this book!  I am very intrigued with Detective Rick Burns and I can’t wait to see how his gift to see ghosts influences his work and his life!

Your book Reunion was obviously prompted from your curiosity to how victims of a school shooting would respond (with a paranormal twist to make it even more interesting), can you share how this book made you feel once you completed it?  Did you learn anything from the writing of it (exercise any “ghosts” sort of speak)?

How I felt was not what you’d think. My first book was a flop and I thought it was perfect when I published it. But Reunion was a totally different story. I knew my writing had improved significantly, but I was so scared to hit the publish button. I felt like Reunion would either propel my writing career forward or it would crush me, killing my career. I was very worried that readers would think it was offensive, that I wasn’t sensitive enough, or that the reading public was not ready for fiction surrounding a school shooting.

I was wrong. Reunion has sold tens of thousands of copies and was an Amazon bestseller, hitting #55 in Amazon’s Top 100 and #1 in Ghosts, Occult and Suspense categories. The reviews have been phenomenal and I have gained a lot of fans. THANK GOD!

Tell us a little about “Creepy“… are these stories inspired from a desire to “creep out” and scare your readers?  Why do you think people like to read or watch something that scares them?

Creepy is a collection of scary stories. Again, I’m not as much into creeping people out as the title implies. This collection includes my three supernatural experiences in detail and two of my short suspense. I didn’t think this book would go that far either, but it has been in Amazon’s top 20-40 in the ghost/occult categories for several months now. I’m surprised, but not really. The stories are real and a little creepy. But what I’m really excited about is that I am publishing CREEPY II in October 2012. CREEPY II is a collection of true ghost stories that I have been collecting from my fans and many other people from around the United States. And if I’m lucky, I might convince you and/or some of your readers to submit their stories to me as well. If you or anyone reading this would like to submit a real life supernatural experience, please contact me on Twitter @TweetTheBook or by email at jeffbennington@ymail.com.

Well, here ya go all of you folks out there who have had brushes with the supernatural!  Jeff is a willing and eager audience!

Do you believe in supernatural evil? Do you think it can be overcome (is there a defense to it)?

Yes. Evil was a choice from the beginning and I believe that evil persists today in the spirit realm as much as it did from the beginning. Although I do not desire to dabble in the dark side, I am not afraid of it because I trust in the one who created all things, and He has ultimate power over evil and my soul, so I’m not worried about supernatural evil effecting my eternal position. However, because we live in a broken world, where sin and death are part of our reality, I know that I have to keep my guard up and be careful to not give evil a foothold … that’s why I’d rather stay away from the line instead of walking on it.

Have you ever been on a ghost hunt?

I have not. But I’ve been invited by an online ghost-hunting program to be a guest.

Any future projects in the works? Can you share anything with us concerning them?

I plan to publish Twisted Vengeance II, CREEPY II by October 2012, and then I’d like to continue working on the two non-fiction books I want to write before I die … Spiritually Self-Medicating and Jesus was an Alien.

You are an Indie writer, what have you liked best about being the master of your own publications?

Everything. Sounds like a great topic for my blog, The Writing Bomb.

Do you believe other writers who have yet to make the plunge, should give Indie publishing (going it on their own) a try?  You’ve written a book to help Indie authors (The Indie Author’s Guide to the Universe) on their publication journey, do you truly believe it’s worth all the effort that’s involved to self-publish or do you think it’s more for certain writers?  (a particular genre for instance)

I think Indie publishing is the best way to start your writing career no matter who you are. You’ll discover many things about yourself, your talent, your business savvy, your marketing abilities and you will test your time management skills. Then if you can succeed at this level, I think you can probably do anything, including attract the attention of national book store chains, agents and publishers. I know that’s possible because it’s happening to Indie authors already. Think of Indie publishing as the new minor leagues; some authors rise to the big leagues, some start their own team, some experience mid-level success and some get the first ticket home after publishing their first book.

Do you believe in Karma?  How can you apply that belief to your writing and publishing goals?

I believe you get what you give. Like I said earlier, my writing goals revolve around a greater purpose for me. It’s not the other way around. I feel like I was fortunate enough to discover my purpose and I don’t have any plans to abandon my post. The Indie Author’s Guide to the Universe is the result of my desire to help other authors figure this business out … right along side of me. My writing is my way of connecting with people, touching nerves, impacting thoughts, and maybe changing the way people perceive themselves and the world around them. That’s a tall order, but the last thing I want from life is to die with regrets, walking through the gray matter haunted by a wasted life.

Will you ever write anything (besides publication and writing tips!) that is in a genre other than thriller/suspense?

Yes. I already eluded to the non-fiction titles that are in the works. But I also want to write a couple literary fiction titles. One that is dear to my heart is a book called Henry Brooks and another called Martin and Me.

What sort of readers would like your books?  Who do you write for?  Why should they buy your books particularly?

The readers that love my fiction are looking for more than just a rush. They want to read stories that get to the heart of humanity and our struggles, but they don’t want to be bored either. I write for me and my family and for the God who gifted me, but I also write for readers who want to read a book sprinkled with lots of salt and hot peppers.

This concludes my interview with Jeff.  I can’t thank him enough for agreeing to “chat” with me.  I know he’s a busy man and his taking the time to answer all my questions was very generous of him.  Links to all his books can be found in Part One of this interview.  I think authors will find his blog “The Writing Bomb” a helpful and informative one that they’ll want to visit often!  His blog “The Kindle Book Review” will interest authors and readers alike!  I know he’s running a very cool contest right now for Indie authors so if you fall into this category, I highly encourage you to check it out!

Until next time … Many blessings to you and Peace out!!


I love talking about anything to do with the supernatural/paranormal.  As a writer of stories involving such phenomena, I particularly love talking to other writers of the same ilk.  To bring elements of the paranormal/supernatural into our writing, we must have a concept, some sort of idea, of what those elements are.  Personal experiences (if any), how we think, feel and believe all have an impact on the stories we create.  Given that, I am always curious to know the motivation behind writers of supernatural/paranormal fiction.  Jeff Bennington has several awesome books out that include these elements and I’m excited that he’s agreed to “guest” on my blog and chat about it!

Once Jeff agreed to an interview, I fired off a bunch of questions.  Though I gave him the option to pick and choose, he replied with “I don’t think there’s a single one I didn’t want to answer. I’ve never really considered many of your questions, so this was really a self-examination of sorts. Perhaps knowing that will make this interview a bit more interesting to your readers.”  I think you’ll agree that we did indeed get an interesting interview!  With so much to “chat” about, this post was done in TWO parts.  Part II will be published on Monday (April 30th).  Be sure to come back, for there’s lots more great stuff to share!!

So without further ado (my questions to Jeff are in bold print, any replies I made to his answers are in italics):

It is my understanding that you’ve had some paranormal experiences. Would you like to continue experiencing them?

I have had three distinct experiences over the course of my life, including one that is recurring. I didn’t seek out the spirits that I’ve encountered, although I have to be honest, I always wished I could experience something supernatural for my own knowledge. Maybe that’s what has made me open, and thereby receptive to what’s out there. But would I like to continue experiencing them? Not necessarily. Once you experience something beyond your existence, you are forced to reckon with the fact that there is more to life than what we see. Although I’ve always believed in the possibility that ghosts exist, actually experiencing this for myself was the real deal, a true gift. Yet I realized that if ghosts exist, than other entities exist as well, like angels, demons, and who knows what else. For that very reason, I’m not really that interested in diving into the occult or the dead or anything dark that could enter my home or intrude upon my family. I don’t want to give anything evil a foothold.

Do you think they (ghosts) can be helped? Do you believe they NEED help?

I’m not sure. That isn’t anything I experienced. Is it possible? Sure? Can I help a ghost? I don’t know, maybe. I’m not sure I’d really know if I helped a ghost or something else. What may seem like freeing a ghost, may release it from one location only to send it into another realm, and I’m not referring to the “light”. But then again, I have never tried to help a ghost, so I am only throwing out random thoughts.

I can understand your reservations concerning the spirit world.  My own experience has taught me that there’s a difference between a ghost and other supernatural entities and so I believe you’d know which one you were dealing with. I’ve never given it any consideration that we might have the power to banish ghosts into other realms other than the “light”.  I hope that isn’t the case!  It really makes me wonder, though, if our actions could do so with other supernatural entities … sending them somewhere we really did not want or intend for them to go. It’s an interesting thought. I can almost feel a story forming! (smile)

Have you ever tried to contact a spirit? Do you think it would be neat to do so?

I have not. Would it be neat to talk to a spirit? Maybe. But I would never really know for sure if it was a spirit of a dead soul or something malevolent deceiving me. So again, dabbling may not be in the cards for me. I’ve heard too many stories about evil entities that have come out of Ouija boards.

I have had some experience with the Ouija board actually. It’s not a game, that’s for sure. I think it’s a pretty powerful tool for opening a doorway between our world and the spirit world. Done right, though…handling it properly, it can offer some pretty interesting interactions with spirits who have passed from this life to the next (because it can also create interaction with other entities…demons and what not, I think people should know what they are doing before using the Ouija).

When writing your stories, do you ever get a little spooked?

Ha ha! That’s funny. Good question. But no, I don’t really get spooked when I write. I might get a chill down my spine, but not because I’m scared. The chill is from an outpouring of emotion. When I write, I have a pretty good idea where the story is going so there aren’t really many surprises for me, unless I have an “Ah hah moment”. The reason for this is simple: I get to view the book on both a micro and macro scale. I see the bigger picture, arranging the setting and characters as I deem fit. I also see the details, holding each idea in my hands like tiny puzzle pieces. When it’s all said and done, I’m usually surprised at how much people like what I write, because by the time I’m finished with it, I’m rather tired of it and numb to anything that could otherwise be shocking. The reader, however, is not, but that is by design. Keep in mind, I’ve probably read the book over twenty times by the time it’s finished.

I know what you mean! I think my friends and family believe that my stories magically flow out of me. I might be a couple weeks into writing a new story and they’ll be like, “You aren’t finished YET? What’s taking so long?” When I finally do finish the story, they seem to think I do nothing more than a quick read over to find any obvious errors before sending it off to the editor for a “check” and then bam…time for publishing! In truth, a lot of time-consuming effort is required to get a book ready for the critical eyes of the public! We read it and read it and read it and tweak it and tweak it and so on until we’re about tired of it already!

Do you think you stir up spirit activity when writing your supernatural thrillers?

Wow. Another good question. I never thought of that, but I suppose it’s possible. Now that you mention it, I starting writing Reunion in 2009 and encountered a very frightening spirit in 2010 and another soon after that. So was that coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, if I do stir things up a bit, even if it’s within my own awareness, I’m not afraid because my beliefs regarding eternity promise that “He that is in me is greater than he that is in the world.”

I certainly believe that the more open you are to the spirit realm, the more likely it is that you will encounter a spirit. For example, my wife is very skeptical, and yet when I had my ghostly experience in a cabin we shared with some friends, two of us encountered the ghost on two separate occasions. The next morning we discovered that the cabin registry was filled with accounts of a ghost named “Earl”! Had I but known his name, I could have helped him. My point is, I’m open and I have seen three spirits of some kind; my wife is skeptical and she has not.

Do you fear death?

Heck no!

What do you think happens once you “cross over”?

I believe that there is a heaven and there is a hell. I also believe that both of these realms are vaguely defined in terms of where the line is drawn and exactly where these planes of eternity exist. Therefore, I believe that there is a gray area between the two that can be crossed over and that spiritual entities of all kinds can crossover from one side to the next. In fact, the bible tells us that Satan himself is free enter Heaven to report to God.

With that said, I believe that when we die we get exactly what we always wanted. If you want nothing to do with God, that’s what you get. If you want to live for yourself, that’s what you get, eternity with yourself. If you want to hurt others, that’s what you get forever and ever. If you live a life filled with regrets, that’s what you get when you die, regret. However, if you choose to serve others, if you choose to seek the God of the universe, if you choose to live a life bent on kindness, a life like the original zombie, Jesus, the ultimate ghost, then I believe you will get exactly what you were looking for.

I do not fear death. I actually look forward to it. And I hope that I am so exhausted from trying to live with purpose that that’s what I get, an eternity with purpose. I do not desire to be lost in the gray matter.

I agree with you on the idea that we get what we expect.  But, do we get it for “eternity”?  I just don’t know, but I’m hoping not!  Eternity is an awfully long time and I’d like to believe that we don’t stop learning, whether we are in physical life or in spirit.  It’s all quite a mystery isn’t it?  Our beliefs have a lot of pull in this respect.  Like you, I don’t fear death.  People shouldn’t fear it unless they are living a life they know might create problems for them on the other side.  And if that’s the case, they should change what they are doing!

How much of your beliefs are in your books?

Everything I write stems from what I believe, including plot lines and themes, all bundled up in a whirlwind of creativity that is uniquely mine. I want to write books that rate high on suspense, but do not leave a reader with a sense of shallowness. I want my books to have a depth that readers can relate to without coming across as preachy. But that’s easier to do if you do not put God in a box.

Can you give us some examples of how your beliefs have influenced your writing?

Sure.  As strange as it may seem, my beliefs about eternity have driven me to write supernatural thrillers. The supernatural is frightening and unknown to many, so its very nature stirs fear and creates suspense. But for me, its any easy medium to work with, like a canvas, the paint goes on smooth and easy. Sci-fi or fantasy, however, would feel like working with raw iron, sharp and cumbersome. I could never write in that genre. Besides, like many writers, I write what I see play out in my head, like taking notes from a movie, so I create scenes that I’d love to watch on the big screen.

You like to write horror…why?  Do you like to be scared out of your wits?

Actually, I don’t necessarily like to write horror per se. I think my suspense thrillers are light on horror, and higher on suspense. In fact, I write each chapter with an ending that begs the reader to continue, a tool I incorporated very heavily in Twisted Vengeance.

Certainly the use of the word “horror” is subjective.  Some would put my book in the horror category because it has ghosts in it but I certainly don’t think of it as horror.  Your books contain some horrifying scenes (things we wouldn’t want to happen to us!) but more than that, they are suspenseful (of the edge-of-your-seat variety!) and they do create quite the “thrill” when reading them.  For me anyway, I probably think of your books as”horror” because some scenes in them made me cringe!  In all truth, however, you have blended several genre elements very well (horror, suspense, thriller, mystery) not going overboard with one or the other.  That’s why, though I don’t read “horror” per se, I enjoy your books!

Do you write an outline or does the story just develop?

I write such a messy outline that most people wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of what’s in my “black book” of ideas.

When a book idea hits me, I jot down the synopsis asap so I don’t forget it. Later when I have time to really think about the general plot, I write short biographies for each character and a brief summary of each chapter. I know I have a full length novel when I can come up with 25 or 30 chapters in the beginning. Those chapters usually sprout roots and grow into a full length novel.

I find it very impressive that you can come up with brief summaries for each chapter before you even write the book!  I’m sure other writers work similarly.  I have no clue what’s going to happen in a chapter or even how many chapters I’m going to have until I sit down to write them.

I love the idea of writing short biographies for each character.  I would probably find my own writing to go smoother if I’d do something like that.  A great tip!  Thanks.

Have you ever been uncomfortable with how a story has developed?

No, but I do have a two book series that I’ve written that I’d be embarrassed to let you read in its current state. But as far as story development goes, I think I have a natural feel for developing story lines that work. The good thing is I spend less time fabricating and more time honing my craft.

A sign of a true writer…where the effort to come up with the story isn’t so much the hard part as honing your craft…making the story better, the sentences stronger, the picture clearer.  It’s a lot of work!!

Have you ever experienced an “epiphany” while writing?  An ‘OMG, where did THAT come from’ moment?

YES! That is where all of my “twists”are born. I have no idea where they come from; they just sneak up on me and freak the sh** out of me. That is the only time I get freaked out. Once I know the twist, I have to make sure I fit in all the details that allow for plausibility.

I can so understand this!  I think when we are in the creative flow, those moments are bound to happen and when they do, we find them as exciting as the reader does!  I had one of those moments at the end of my book and had to go back through the entire thing and make sure it all fit together.  It’s a fascinating process.  I certainly got that “oh wow” moment when I read Twisted Vengeance! It also made me want MORE!

This concludes Part One of this awesome “chat” with Jeff Bennington!  In Part II we get more into a discussion of Jeff’s books and really, if you are a fan of supernatural thrillers, you don’t want to miss the next post!!

Please feel free to comment on the above discussion and ask Jeff anything you like.  I know he would love to hear from you!  Also, if you haven’t already read his books and would like to, here are the links  (the one on the end: The Kindle Book Review is Jeff’s blog, readers and writers alike should take a look!):


I blog a lot about the paranormal because the afterlife fascinates me.  I do not doubt that once our bodies have expired, our souls live on.  I KNOW this to be true.   Although I find that quite comforting, it doesn’t stop me from missing loved ones (to include animals!) who have crossed into the “great beyond” (which is really just a different level of consciousness!).  My first brushes with death were the loss of pets (I still miss them all and some have been gone for many, many years!).  Their deaths were quite devastating to my young life.  And then when I was fourteen, I lost a family member that I loved very much — my wonderful Uncle Paul.  He was the BEST!  Paul was one of those people who was a shining light in the world.  His presence was always uplifting.  I admired him so much and I thought he was one of the best people ever.  Then, at the young age of 29, he died…struck down suddenly by a brain aneurysm.  What a shocking blow to my world.

At the time of his death, I was living in the haunted house I’ve blogged about many times.  So, I knew that our spirit … our soul … lived on but that didn’t stop me from being incredibly sad to lose my dear uncle.  I wanted his physical presence in my life and besides, I wasn’t sure how to communicate with those on the other side at that point in my life.  Truth be told, I was quite afraid of it.  That’s because at least one of the entities sharing our home with us was not a nice one.  No.  But this isn’t about that.

Although I had dabbled with the Ouija board, it wasn’t until many years later that I truly began to explore making contact with “the other side” or as I call it in my book “Be Still, My Love”…the Tri-State, that place between earthly life, heaven and hell.  A place where souls can hang out and communicate with us!  I found this to be a relatively easy thing to do through the means of automatic writing.  For those who don’t know what that is, it is when you use paper and a pen and invite those in spirit to speak to you through written messages.  When it’s actually happening, your hand will just start moving…seemingly without any effort from you!…and message will come through.  It’s as easy to do (for me anyway) as the Ouija board (which has a lot of negative press but that’s because it is too easy a tool to use and people don’t take it seriously enough to operate it properly!).  When I first started doing automatic writing, I managed to contact my grandparents (two of my most favorite people ever!).  It was really nice to connect with them again and have some closure (I was in the military when they died and didn’t even get to attend their funerals).  I know it was them I made contact with and I don’t care what anyone else says about it.  I know my Nana and Grampy and I FELT them, their spirit, their love, when communicating with them.

It wasn’t until a few years ago, however, that I finally got a message from my dear uncle Paul!  It was during my second visit to a local Spiritualist Church (of which I am now a member!) that it happened.  The medium bringing messages through happened to be the Pastor for the church.  He described my uncle perfectly and he even knew how he died and when!  I was in the process of working on my book and my uncle was giving me a positive message to continue with my writing! He was a major influence on my writing pursuits because he believed in me and encouraged me to keep doing it NO MATTER WHAT (the title of the first book I wrote and hope to have out in a few months!).  The following week at church, my Nana came through!  Now for you skeptics, I have to tell you…the medium knew way too much for it to be a lucky coincidence.  The message wasn’t vague and the medium’s description couldn’t have been applied to anyone else…it was very specific to my Nana, as Paul’s description was very specific to him.

I mentioned the above because I wanted to establish to you what I believe and why.  In my book “Be Still, My Love” the main character Tess Schafer is a medium.  Her husband and dog are killed by a drunk driver and Tess is devastated by the loss.  Part of her grief has to do with her beliefs.  You see, Tess believes (as do I) that death is not something that happens to us AGAINST OUR WILL.  Now, a LOT of people are going to argue with that and have.  I’ve even had a pretty critical review posted on Amazon over this particular issue.   I need to make it clear that on a CONSCIOUS level, MOST of us do not willingly go to our deaths.  We are born with a very strong instinct for survival.  Except in certain situations (suicides and terminal illness for instance) death is not a choice we consciously make.  But the thing about this issue is that if God makes the decision on when we die…then how is it that we have Free Will?  Do we have Free Will in everything BUT that?  I think not…it’s just too important an issue for us to have no say in the matter.  Now, when it comes time to die, I do believe that it is on a very deep level…SOUL deep…that the final decision is made.  This might explain the sudden return to life that is made after death has been declared! (Although the soul had obviously vacated the premises, a change in plans had to of occurred.  More than likely they were talked into returning because most reports of people who had a “near death experience” report NOT WANTING to return to life…even if they had a strong desire to live prior to the situation in hand!).  I believe that when people are in a coma they are actually “in review” of their lives and trying to decide what to do (again, on a very deep level…our Ego, the personality that we are in this earthly life, has no say in the matter.  Because, honestly, if our Ego had its way, we’d live forever!).  I could be wrong about this but I could be right.  Who knows?  Someday we all will.

So anyway, Tess struggled with her belief on this issue because if she was right about it, then that meant her husband agreed to depart his earthly life and leave her a widow.  She couldn’t accept that.  It is quite understandable that she feel that way because she loved him, he loved her, they were happy, had a good life…why would he leave all that?  But the thing is…we all have an agenda when we are born.  We come into earthly life hoping to accomplish something…maybe many things…but the point is, we all have a PURPOSE for entering physical life.  Once that purpose is met, we “cross over” (return) to our spiritual life (a state of “living” that we enjoy immensely by the way!).  Truly, if we all remembered from where we came and where we are headed when done with this physical life, many of us would be checking out a lot sooner than we end up doing!  I don’t know about you but I’ve gone through enough crap in my life that I’ve thought “What the hell is the point?  I’m so DONE with this!” and I tell ya, I’d have willingly crossed over if my instinct for survival wasn’t as strong as it is!  I mean really… life is freakin HARD!  It’s challenging and full of obstacles and strife and heartache and so on and so on.  Thank God for that survival instinct or we wouldn’t be having a population growth.  No.  But, when we come to that point where it’s a live or die situation, that’s when our soul (our true self) comes forward to take over.

I wrote a paper about this issue for a college English assignment and my professor for that course was quite pissed.  She scribbled all over that paper and then wrote “SEE ME” at the bottom.  Her father had recently died of a heart attack.  She informed me that there was “NO WAY” he WANTED to die and that my paper was a “load of crap”.  I’d hit a nerve…she was still grieving over her loss and for me to suggest that her dear father wanted to die didn’t sit well with her.  It wouldn’t.  We are programmed to love life and to cling to it no matter what.  As a result of that programming, we hate death, we fear it and we certainly want nothing more than to avoid it!  Besides, who wants to say goodbye to a loved one on such a permanent basis?  (permanent until we meet again when our own death occurs that is!).  I know that the losses I’ve suffered have left huge holes in my life.  You can’t fill those holes.  They stay there until our own life ends and leaves a hole in someone else’s life.  It’s a sucks-ass system but it is what it is.  It sucks even more (in my book anyway) to think that those who have died, might have done so UNwillingly!  To have them ripped from life without their consent seems so WRONG to me and a very UNloving thing for God to do!

When I was eighteen, I went through an experience in which I thought for sure I was about to die.  And I have to tell ya, I didn’t expect it to be a peaceful death either!  I was truly expecting a horrific end.  Oddly, as I stared death in the face, I felt quite calm inside (yeah, my heart was pounding so hard it hurt but my spirit was calm).  I was visiting friends in Virginia at the time and it was quite late in the evening.  I was sitting in their darkened kitchen (a small light over the sink was on) and talking on the phone to a guy I’d met the night before.  I was sitting next to the garage door.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware that the door had opened but I paid no attention to it. Then I heard the heavy breathing.  I turned my head and froze, literally, to complete immobility.  I couldn’t utter a sound and I’m not sure if I was even breathing!  Standing there about a foot from me was a person dressed in a long trench coat, black boots, a black ski mask, black gloves and a dark hat.  One gloved hand held a very large shiny butcher knife.  It was held up high and pointed at me as if poised to plunge.  I remember the blade caught the light from over the sink and glistened as it moved in rhythm with its holder’s breathing.  My life was over.  In a flash I understood this and though I can tell you I didn’t WANT to die, there was a part of me that accepted what was about to happen.  When you think you have no choice, I think that’s when our soul comes forward to help us through the situation.  That’s the only explanation I can come up with.  And that whole “your life flashes before your eyes” thing?  Yeah, that happens…in an INSTANT.  My entire life was AT ONCE remembered…ALL of it.  It’s a very hard thing to explain.  After this instant life review came other thoughts.  I worried about my family, how they would take my death and that was my biggest regret.  I worried about how much it was going to hurt and I hoped that it happened quickly.  Chasing that thought was the question on whether I should keep my eyes open (I could blink at this point and that was it) or if I should close them.  I decided that I couldn’t close them and not KNOW when it was going to happen.  Chasing that decision was the wish that I could get my voice back so I could warn my friends in the next room.  I dearly hoped that they would make it out of the house while I was being butchered to death.  In that respect, I did hope my death wasn’t too quick for I truly wanted my friends to live.  I had no doubt, none at all, that I was going to die.  And then, incredibly, the person standing there began to laugh.  It was one of my friends pulling a prank on me.  She pulled the ski mask off and bent over in a fit of mirth (apparently my expression was beyond funny).  “You should see your face!” she gasped as I began to shake uncontrollably in relief.  It was the worst joke ever.  But it taught me something.  When facing death, there is a calm acceptance of it deep within.  Remember…our souls know that “death” is not final and is actually a release back to our true self and the beautiful pain-free, stress-free, hate-free loving existence that awaits us.

I’ve even experienced “death” in dreams!  I do wonder if those dreams were actually a past life memory because they sure did seem real.  What I remember most is how peaceful it was.  I think part of our grief is the thought that someone we love and would do anything for had somehow suffered.  It’s bad enough to lose someone but to think that they may have suffered in the transition is too much to bear.  I don’t know quite what I think about this other than it is my hope that our soul takes the personality out of the situation and leaves only the body shell to get through a terrible end…such as fire (which to me has to be one of the absolute worst ways to die!).  Speaking of which, there was a terrible story this past Christmas Eve about a house fire in which a woman lost her two young daughters and her parents.  I don’t know how someone survives a tragedy like that.  That poor woman not only had to suffer the loss of her children and parents (the most important people to her in all the world) but she had to deal with the fact that they died in a fire!  They tried to escape, of course, and didn’t make it.  You know their last moments of life was lived in horror.  Or was it?  Did their souls come forth and get them through it?  Did the angels take them away as their bodies perished?  I’d like to think so.  What I do know is that they are now living in a beautiful place and the mother/daughter they left behind is living in hell.  What sort of karma is she balancing?  For something that horrible to happen…it had to have been something that was planned in spirit BEFORE their earthly births.  I’m here to tell you, no matter what I believe…I KNOW I could not deal with something like that.  I pray for that woman, I really do.  I pray she somehow finds some peace as she continues out her life.

I don’t know why horrible things happen.  I don’t understand the evils of the world.  But I do know this…our soul will one day be released from the trap of physical life and return to the beautiful existence of spirit.  And I don’t think that our moment of death is going to be as traumatic as we might think (if only we could all just die peaceably of extreme old age in our sleep!).

I have questions about it all.  Of course I do.  One way I try to figure things out is through writing.  As I continue to write stories including Tess, I find myself learning things right along with her.  After all, the inspiration for her story is coming from somewhere…I believe it comes from the Universal Conscience which is, basically, God.

Okay, that’s enough for now!  What do you think?  It’s a touchy issue, I know.  It’s a depressing one.  For those of us left behind anyway!  I’d like to hear your thoughts on it.

Until next time, blessings to all and Peace Out!


Nowadays there are paranormal investigators in just about every town!  There seems to be a wide-spread growing fascination for “the other side”.  It’s not so strange that so many of us are intrigued by such a thing…why wouldn’t we be interested in a “place” (more a sphere of existence than a place) where every single one of us will eventually end up?  Honestly, I don’t understand why there hasn’t been more widespread interest before now.  Interacting with the spirit world should be a NORMAL thing to do, not a PARAnormal freak thing!!  What better comfort are we going to get when we lose a loved one to “death” than to speak to them once they’ve “crossed over” (a common term used to describe the transition from physical to spiritual existence)?  What else is going to ease the pain of loss than KNOWING that our departed loved ones are “alive” and well and HAPPY?  Seriously!

My paranormal adventures began when I moved into a haunted house when I was seven.  It took us a while to figure out what was going on.  Being the oldest of five kids, I was often blamed for the lights being on when my parents specifically remembered turning them off, or for leaving the doors open when they were supposed to be closed.  Now, I have to tell you, no WAY would I have felt safe going to bed (in my tween years I was often the last one to go to bed) with the front, cellar and barn doors wide open!  Our house had a huge old barn attached to it (a great place to play during the day, terrifying at night).  As for the cellar…all of us kids were afraid of it.  There was a room down in that dark, dank place that looked just like a vaulted tomb!  I think bodies used to be put in there until they could be buried.  I tell you, for the first five years or so of living there (up until we realized that otherworldly entities were the culprits), the five of us kids got blamed for most of the ghosts’ shenanigans.  I can’t tell you how often we were called to the carpet because of something that had gone missing (Dad’s tools, mom’s things).  When you live in a haunted house…a LOT of things go missing.   I have to wonder about this. Why?  What use could a ghost have for our physical objects?  Where do the things go?  SOMETIMES we’d find them in some out-of-the-way place that wasn’t even logical for them to be and most times?  Never seen again.  Why, I remember one time when my parakeet (cage and all!) went missing for a whole freaking week!  Then one day, it just showed up…food and water dishes full, cage clean (do you know how messy a parakeet is?) and as for the bird, well he looked fat and happy.  What the heck?  Where on earth did he go for that week he went missing?

My father often got blamed for the times our poor terrorized dog went crazy.  Since we didn’t know about the ghosts, it seemed logical that it had to be his fault whenever we saw poor little Tippy go running off yelping in fear, tail between his legs, ears flat, and eyes flashing with terror.  As for the house, well the constant cold was blamed on the fact that it was an old building.  No matter that when it was 90 degrees outside (very hot for Maine!), the house would be cold enough to warrant a sweater!  The electric appliances going crazy…turning on or off at will…was blamed on the wiring.  Really, those first few years, there was a LOT of blaming going on.  It wasn’t a great situation for our family to endure.  The negative energy in that house was terrible.  I hated all seven years that I lived there.  The night we moved out, I had never felt so relieved in my life.  BUT (there’s always a “but”) that very same evening while my brother and I sat together in the living room watching television and enjoying the fearless feeling of being in a ghost-free house, the dang blender on the kitchen counter came on full blast!!  Dadgum ghosts…you can’t get rid of them.  They are literally everywhere!

Yet for all that…the fact that ghosts are everywhere, there are a good number of people in the world who have not encountered one!  Well, I’m willing to bet that a good majority of them have, in fact, encountered a ghost but they chalked it up to being something else.  We are great ones for rationalizing the unknown or unexplained away.  It’s the very thing my family did those first few years!  You want to meet a ghost?  Be open to meeting a ghost.  Invite them to interact with you.  Stop calling yourself silly names for doing it!  The fact is, interacting with the spirit world is not a joke so don’t treat it like one!  At the same time, don’t be so overly serious about it either…loosen up, have some fun!  When you are having fun, your inhibitions are lower and thus the resistance to allowing a supernatural experience is also lessened.  Fear is our worst inhibitor.  For everything.  Fear is the one emotion we all have to learn to conquer.  When we can finally live without fear, then I think our time here on Earth is done…maybe we can move on to bigger and better things in the next life!  One of the most profound quotes I’ve ever heard is “Be not afraid for I (the Lord) am with you” (Isaiah 41:10).   And yet we fear.  We doubt.  It seems to be part of our earthly nature to experience those two emotions.

Interestingly enough, last night I had a dream that I was on a ghost hunt.  As we entered the haunted house, I started feeling strange (almost like I had a pretty good buzz going!).  I KNEW that spirits were about and wanted to communicate with me.  I told myself to go with it, to allow whatever was happening within me to happen.  I was concerned about what the others would think but I told myself not to worry about it (something I have to wrestle with…worrying about what other people think).  It felt as if I was floating (not just my spiritual body but my physical body as well), though I couldn’t be sure for my focus was on all the spirits in that house that started talking to me.  I wasn’t scared, I was fascinated.  I tried to share with the others what was happening but they all looked at me as if I’d gone off the deep end.  When I finally snapped out of the trance-like state I was in, the others walked away from me with an attitude that I was to be avoided.  I just conversed with the ghosts they were there to hunt and no one was the least bit curious to know what had just happened to me or what I learned.  First thing I thought upon wakening was that if I were to truly experience something like that, anyone with me would probably respond as the people did in my dream!

I believe that dreams are messages to us, a way for our soul to converse with our earthly personality.  I think that dream was telling me that if I’d stop worrying about what other people think and stop being afraid of the spirits that want to talk to us, I’d probably have some pretty profound supernatural experiences!  You see, during the dream, I decided not to be scared of the feelings coming over me.  I’ve stopped myself in the past from experiencing something unusual because I was afraid.  It’s most frustrating for me because I don’t WANT to be afraid.  The good thing is, I’m better about conquering that dratted emotion.  I still have my fears but they number fewer than they used to!

I think we are more apt to be aware of ghosts and spirits when we let go of our fear and inhibitions.  Although people who go on ghost hunts are hoping to “find” a ghost, the fact is, deep inside, they also fear it.  Not all of them, of course, and those are the ones who DO experience something!  Another thing that keeps people from experiencing ghostly contact is their expectations and their egos.  The best thing to do if you are serious about contacting “the dead” is to let go of your fear (proper preparation will help ease fears…see my previous post 5 Steps to Spirit Contact), let go of your inhibitions – loosen up and have some fun…just “go with it” and try not to have any expectations.  It’s hard to experience something if you have it set in your mind what it is you are supposed to experience and HOW you’ll experience it!  Also…be sure your intentions are clear.  WHY are you wanting to make contact?  That’s an important question.  Simple curiosity is not going to cut it.  The spirits are not looking to connect with curiosity seekers…to them, making contact with us is a serious issue.  It’s as much a profound experience for them as it is for us.  Having fun with the experience doesn’t mean making jokes about it…it means enjoying the experience while at the same time taking it serious.

Because I am so fascinated with spirit contact and have had so many awesome experiences, I wanted to write a story that included these things.  That’s how “Be Still, My Love” and “Hidden Voices (the sequel to be released soon!) came to be! Many of my experiences show up in those two books!  Those are the best stories to write…the ones that you can relate to in some way.  They are also the best ones to read!!

Okay, that’s it for now.  If you have any questions, please ask away!  If you have anything to add to help others in their quest to meet ghosts…please do!!  Thanks for stopping by and until next time…blessings to all and Peace Out!


Be Still, My Love

When I was seven, my family moved into an old farmhouse.  We didn’t know it at the time, but it was quite haunted.  The tomb situated in a small copse of trees behind the house should have given us something of a warning.  The eleven people buried there had all died on the property, some of them in our house.  Disturbingly enough, there were others who had died either in the house or on the property whose bodies were not buried in the tomb.  The old house had history.  Lots of it.  And we were about to learn how bizarre the world can be, how mysterious and spooky.

For seven years we lived there and experienced some interesting phenomena (see previous posts about some of my experiences!).  My exposure to the paranormal led me to an interest in such matters and an eagerness to learn all I could.  Having a very active imagination and a compelling desire to write, it was only natural that my books would reflect my growing fascination with “the unknown”.  I’ve been scribbling stories since I was old enough to string words together.  My first story was penned on a stool (we had to make do with what we had and an extra desk was not one of them!) behind a big old piano.  My second grade teacher had pulled it away from the wall to give us some private space for our creative moments.  I couldn’t wait to get behind that piano and write.  It was the beginning of my writing career.  It became something of an obsession.  I couldn’t stand to see a blank notebook page.  I HAD to scrawl out a story.  I told myself stories constantly: while doing mundane chores, traveling, waiting for sleep to come…every idle moment was filled with stories.

As I entered my teenage years, I became determined to “grow up and be a writer”.  And I continued to learn about all sorts of things: reincarnation, past lives, spirit contact, life after death (it’s all quite connected).  It was only natural for my imagination to embrace these concepts and come up with stories including them.

Although I dreamed of being a writer, I was realistic enough to understand that an endeavor like that was not going to be easy.  And I needed to experience life.  So, a year after graduating high school, I joined the Air Force.  Suddenly I am learning all about explosives and bomb components and the like.  A total departure from my career choice for sure.  Who would have thought I’d become a Munitions Technician?  I have to say, my new career led to some very interesting experiences.  Not all of them good.  Most of them, in fact, not good.  But that’s another story.  I continued to write stories and dream of being an author but my focus was now on my Air Force commitments and my growing family.

After serving twenty long years in the military, I finally retired and was looking forward to life in the civilian world.  My husband (whose stellar career in the military lasted 28 years) and I bought ourselves a small family campground and we settled down to the demands of owning a business.  We did that for five interesting years and then called it quits.  Now, I thought, I can do what I’ve always wanted to do.  I had written some books by this point and they sat idle on my computer.  Now, finally, it was time to fire up the computer and the stories held within it!  It was around this time that I was once again exploring my spiritual interests and had recently joined a Spiritualist church.  The mediums there had me interested in their ability.  How awesome to talk to loved ones lost to us in death!  Oh, I’d done as much with the Ouija board, automatic writing and channeling but I hadn’t had much interaction with mediums.  Then, of course, the shows Medium and Ghost Whisperer were very popular and I was also following another medium’s reality show starring the talented Lisa Williams.  My interest in mediumship (I even took a class in it!) made my creative brain kick into gear and “Be Still, My Love” began to formulate.   A sucker for love stories, I wondered how a medium very much in love with her husband would feel if she lost him to a senseless death.  And because people grieve over the loss of their pets, I decided this poor medium would lose a beloved dog as well.  How would she respond?  Would her faith be affected?  Would she love again?  Would her ability be affected?  What would happen if she stayed somewhere haunted by the tragic demise of two young lovers?  Would she be able to help them?  What if more were going on than a haunting?  Would she figure it out?  All these questions created the story that came to be and led to my very first publication!!

The circumstances that led to my first published book seem unrelated and yet, each one built on the other and led to that very thing! I moved into a house haunted by several ghosts, I started to write stories, I experienced things in life that led to my drive for understanding, I attended a Spiritualist church and then I wrote a book!  A long held dream, one that began around the age of eight, took forty years to come true but come true it did!!

That book is now FREE on Amazon for the dates of 25 and 26 March!  After that, it’s still going to be affordable because I really want to share this story with you!  I’d love to know what you all think of it!  And I’d love to hear how your dreams came to be!!

And to show my appreciation for you taking the time to stop by my blog…I’m offering a FREE Numerology Analysis OR a palm reading (need the capability of taking a digital photo of your hand) to TWO lucky commenters who take the time to share their thoughts with me!!

Thank you so much for your support and for your valuable time!  Until next time, many blessings to you and Peace Out!


Cover of "Brother Odd (Odd Thomas Novels)...

Cover of Brother Odd (Odd Thomas Novels)

I love books involving supernatural elements and paranormal activity.  Dean Koontz delivers those elements in all of his books…he’s a master of the macabre after all.  The thing is, for all my fascination with the paranormal, I’m really not into spine-crawling, OMG, hands to the eyes, heart pounding fear that most horror works initiate.  There’s usually just too much evil involved for me to enjoy it.  Honestly, I find horror way too horrifying.  Yeah, I know, that’s so cliche a statement but there it is.  That’s how I feel.  Thankfully (for horror writers and movie makers), there are a ton of other people who don’t share my sentiment.

I do, however, like spooky, scary stuff.  For me…unseen entities up to who knows what or when is more spine-chillingly captivating than evil gore, blood, guts, and over-the-top horror.  For make no mistake, almost anything in the horror genre includes death and blood.  Usually lots of both.  I’m not so much into blood.  As for death…I prefer dealing with those who are already dead rather than watching the gruesome process people often go through (especially in horror novels!) to enter that state.

Yeah, I’m a ghost/spirit fanatic.  Angels fascinate me too.  Spirit activity never fails to captivate my attention and curiosity.  I’m all agog about the idea of dead people interacting with our world.  And I’m most curious as to what takes place in the afterlife.  After all…each and every one of us will enter it someday.  No exceptions!  It’s perfectly understandable that I’d like to understand my ultimate destination.  It’s also quite understandable that, as a writer, I would enjoy writing books involving those interests.  And, of course, I love reading other people’s books involving them too!

One book series I’ve come to enjoy is Dean Koontz’ Odd Thomas series.  Koontz is a great writer.  He really is.  I respect and admire his skillful handling of the writing craft.  But, that doesn’t mean I like ALL of his books.  Some of them are a little too out of the ballpark for me.  Either that or the subject matter just doesn’t interest me.  The same goes for Stephen King.  He’s another master of the macabre and one of my favorites.  Even so, I don’t particularly care for ALL of his books either.  But you know, that’s okay.  A great writer often appeals to a broad audience.  Those guys have my attention with certain books and other people’s attention with other books.  That is a true master story teller…one who can appeal to a broad spectrum of personal story taste!

The character Koontz has created, Odd Thomas, is an interesting one.  He can see dead people.  He can’t hear them though.  Bummer on that one…it would make things so much easier if the ghosts who appear to him could say, “That guy you just passed? Yeah, he’s about to destroy the town.”  A quick 911 call, a police raid and the story is over.  Town elimination averted.  And what a conundrum that would be, for we now have no story!  Thomas has another interesting ability…if he just goes with the flow, wherever the moment takes him, he is led right to where he needs to be to garnish clues involving the disaster about to unfold.  Like it or not, Odd is tossed into the role of amateur private investigator, despite the fact that he regards himself as nothing more or less than a short-order cook.

Odd has, however, taken on other odd (pun intended) jobs since the first book “Odd Thomas“.  Although he was quite content to be the short-order cook for the Pico Mundo Grill, things didn’t go well for him in that first book.  He suffered a loss that sets him on a course that leads to lives-depend-on-it adventures in  “Odd Hours“, “Forever Odd” and “Brother Odd” (new book “Odd Apocalypse” due out in July!).   Odd is at once, from the very first introduction, a likable guy.  He’s very respectful, neat, polite, caring … and he has the support of Pico Mundo’s police chief to boot!  A good thing since he’s pulled into future tragic disasters in the making!

Poor Odd doesn’t quite know what to think of his gift, he even wonders if maybe he’s cursed.  Some people might see it that way…having dead people show up at all hours seeking help or hoping to offer it.  Regardless how Odd feels about spirits seeking him out, he does his best to help them.  What’s really cool about the Odd books is that all the action takes place within a couple days at most!  And man, are those hours filled with suspense, drama, mystery and thrill-building excitement.

I think one of the things I found particularly amusing about these books is Odd’s sidekick ghost.  Who isn’t going to like a guy who has attracted the King of Rock and Roll himself?  Yes, Elvis Presley puts in a regular appearance, at least for a time.  So, guess that solves that little mystery…yes, folks, Elvis Presley really is dead (a moment here of respectful silence).  Sadly, the beloved King does eventually move on…to where, who knows, and although I miss him, other spirits come along that are interesting enough to fill the void.

What Koontz has done is create an endearing character with some very interesting supernatural abilities.  This intriguing character, who is as odd as his name, befriends an assortment of supportive characters and the catastrophe’s Odd must somehow prevent from happening (hopefully!) keeps us enthralled until the nail-biting end.  As soon as I finish a book, I’m on line looking for when the next one will be out.  It’s a bummer to have to wait until July…I’ve been waiting a long time already, but I will.  I’m that devoted.  And that’s the kind of following I hope to have someday!  I hope people will like my stories and characters enough that they can’t wait for more, no matter how long the wait!

I’m hoping my Tess Schafer character (introduced in “Be Still, My Love“) will be one of those endearing characters people will look forward to following in future books.  Tess is a medium, she speaks to the dead, she regularly communicates with her spirit guide Sheila and she channels stories that give clues to the mystery she’s trying to solve (involving a restless spirit … or two…of course!).  I’m really liking the second book in the “Tess Scafer – Medium” series because she’s becoming more and more a real person to me and I’m learning things about her as I go that make me vastly intrigued with each word.  I never thought I’d be writing paranormal mystery novels.  I’ve always been a big-time romance fanatic (still am!) but that seems to be the way I’m going.  Besides, who is to say this young 25 year old widow won’t find love again?  After all, Kade Sinclair – a Marine whose career ended with injuries he sustained while on tour in Afghanistan – is definitely in the picture.  The two make an unlikely pairing and who knows where it will lead…if it leads to anything.  But I’m sure going to enjoy the evolution of their story as it filters through my brain onto the keyboard!

So, if you are a fan of the supernatural, if you like paranormal elements in a book’s story, you should give the Odd Thomas books a try.  If you have already…do you agree with my assessment?  Aren’t they great books?

Until next time, my friends, blessings and Peace Out!!

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