I do paranormal investigations with a group near where I live, and I attended my very first ghost hunt with them a few nights before Halloween. About ten of us visited Old Dunstable Cemetery where some victims of a 1702 Indian massacre are buried. It’s the oldest cemetery in Nashua, dating back from when the land was part of Massachusetts. The earliest burial dates from 1687. Researchers had found the victims’ names, so we were able to locate their gravestones. The only equipment I had at the time were my dowsing rods and a digital camera. While others in the group made their attempts to contact spirits, I stood before a gravestone that read: this Man, with Seven more, that lies in this Grave; was Slew, All in a day, by the Indiens.
Holding my rods, I asked a few questions: Did you die in the massacre? Were you born here? You can only ask simple yes or no questions and ask the rods to cross for yes and separate for no. I got answers to all my questions. I then stood before another stone reading:
Rev. Thomas Weld, Born June 1653, Settled as the first minister of the church in Dunstable Dec. 1685
probably massacred by the Indians while defending the settlement June 7, 1702, age 49. All the while, I felt a strong presence, and immediately began feeling dizzy and lightheaded. I found that this happens quite frequently when I ghost hunt. I’ve never seen a ghost, but have felt presences near me, and always get dizzy when I sense someone is nearby. I took several photos throughout the cemetery, and some came out with brightly colored arcs among the tombstones. I didn’t dare visit that graveyard on Halloween night!
How a Ghost Helped Solve a Murder in FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET
My heroine Vita Caputo lived on Mott Street on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. In 1894, her fiancé Tom’s cousin Mike was found murdered in an alley next to her tenement building. Prejudice against Italian immigrants and the generally corrupt police force went to work accusing and convicting Vita’s father and brother of the crime. As they languished in The Tombs, the infamous prison, Vita, Tom, and gifted medium Jadwiga Wisen held a seance with a Ouija board that spelled out “frame” when Jadwiga asked who the true killer was. Frame? Yes, of course, Vita’s dad and brother were framed–they were innocent. But when Tom went home and looked at his window frame, it gave him an idea–there’s more than one kind of frame. He went to Vita’s apartment, inspected her window frame, and discovered clues that led to the arrest of the true killer of his cousin–I won’t give away any more!
Ingredients: 3/4 cup low fat cottage cheese 2/3 cup nonfat plain Greek yogurt 1 tbsp. flour (gluten free if need be) 2 tbsp. honey 1/4 tsp. salt 4 egg whites 2 tbsp. lemon juice 1/2 cup pumpkin puree (not pumpkin pie filling) 1/2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice, no sugar added
Directions:
Place everything in your blender and blend until smooth. Pour into a greased or parchment lined cake pan or a mini scone pan.
The fourth series of Friday the 13th horror short stories is now available. In each, a murder takes place or a body is found on Friday the 13th. See if you can spot the other recurring elements. Dive into these short horror reads and have a frightfully great time!
****** Only 99 cents until the witching hour when the price goes up! (Well, until around midnight :))
For the series buy link, click on the below:
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Spit on a grave by Tamrie Foxtail
Fun Fact:
When I was in high school there was a cemetery across the street. It may sound odd, but it was a quiet place to study and walk. And there was that one mysterious headstone…off by itself…broken….
About Spit on a Grave:
No one likes a bully and Kiera’s tormented by four of them. But Kiera knows something they don’t. She knows how to turn the tormentors into the tormented.
Snippet:
“Audrey’s right,” Makayla said. “This is spooky. Why can’t we just say we went?”
“Because we have to post a picture,” Jenna said. “With the time.” She pointed to her right. “Kiera said the grave is over there in the corner, under the oak tree.”
They walked two abreast, dead leaves crunching beneath their feet and the full moon playing hide-and-seek through bare branches.
“There,” Alissa said, pointing at the lonely stone. She motioned for the other three to follow.
“Do we just take a picture standing in front of the grave?” Audrey asked.
“We’re supposed to spit on it,” Makayla said.
“That so disrespectful,” Jenna said.
Alissa shrugged. “Who cares? She was a child killer.” Alissa turned on her camera and aimed it at the stone. “Here we are in front of the grave of Barbara Dawn Callan,” she said in a spooky voice. “So scary. Not.” She made certain she was in the video, turned and spit on the grave. “There you go Barbara Dawn. Come and get me.”
Makayla followed. “Waiting for you, Barbara Dawn,” she taunted.
About the author:
Tamrie Foxtail followed her husband from the Sunshine State to the Sooner State thirty years ago. She loves carousels, reading, her family, and her fur babies.
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Soulless by Alicia Dean
Fun Fact:
When I write, I like to pay homage to things I love or that are personal to me. In Soulless, there are several scattered throughout:
The name of the town is Pleasence, after Donald Pleasence who played Dr. Loomis in the Halloween movie franchise.
A nearby town is called Boone Springs, which is the name of the town in my grim reaper romance, Soul Seducer.
My sheriff is Rosalyn (Roz) Grimes, and Rick Grimes is my favorite character in Walking Dead, and Roz is from one of my favorite sitcoms, Frasier.
Of course, I mention Elvis, though briefly.
And, I mention MLB, although at the time I wrote it, I didn’t realize that no post season game would be happening on Friday, although in the story I say there is.
And, lastly (I think), my bad guy’s name, Dearil, means ‘call of death.’
About Soulless:
When Sheriff Rosalyn Grimes shoots and kills the serial killer who is holding her daughter captive, she thinks the ordeal is over and her town is safe. But a rash of new murders plunges them right back into the nightmare—is there a copycat on the loose or, even more terrifying, has the same murderer come back to life?
Snippet:
He was only ten feet away, and she was suddenly afraid to go any closer. He gave off a bad vibe…as if just his being naked in the middle of the road wasn’t a bad vibe enough. No, there was something about this guy she wanted no part of. Screw it, she’d definitely call the police. And grab her gun while she waited for them.
She backed away, keeping her eye on him, but still, he didn’t move. She turned and hurried to her porch. She was twisting the knob when a smell like death assailed her nostrils. Fear choked her, and she whirled to see the man looming behind her. How had he gotten here so quickly?
She fumbled for the door and managed to get it open, then hurried inside. When she went to slam the door shut, he shoved it open from the other side and sent her tumbling to the floor.
He stalked over to her. “Let me in, little piggy.” His harsh voice rumbled out of him like a death rattle.
Shivers raced over her skin. “What do you want?” she managed to get past the lump of fear in her throat. “My husband’s upstairs, and he’s got a gun.”
His grotesque mouth lifted in the parody of a smile. “Don’t lie to me, Bethy. Your husband’s out of town. I need his clothes.”
The moon outside the window passed from behind the clouds, illuminating his features, and she gasped with recognition.
About the Author:
Oklahoma author, Alicia Dean, has an unhealthy fascination with murder and all things creepy and disturbing. On a lighter note, she’s a lifelong Elvis fan, loves the NFL and MLB, and hardly ever makes her darkly disturbing fascinations a reality.
Some friends and I attended a forensic class at a Skeleton Museum. We were given a skull and instructions on how to determine the cause of death. It was interesting to go through the steps anthropologists and forensic scientists go through to determine age, sex and physical trauma. Skeletons really can tell a story of a person’s life.
About The Widower:
Lucy Cable has an inexplicable talent for reading bones—she can look at a skull and see the person’s face. While touring a local bone museum, she notices a skeleton on display and is horrified to identify it as her missing friend. When another murder takes place, Lucy realizes a maniac is in their midst. Can she figure out how to stop him before her snooping around puts her next on his list?
Snippet:
“I didn’t think the museum would have this effect on you. Seriously, I just thought it would be a fun party.”
“I’m fine,” Lucy said. “I just need to sit down for a bit.”
“Ok, if you don’t mind, I’m going to find Cora.”
“Knock yourself out.” Lucy headed for an empty bench across the room. She was almost there when a sight stopped her short. She couldn’t have seen what she thought she had. It couldn’t be. Slowly, she pivoted on her heels. She had to be imagining things. She walked toward the single skeleton in the far corner of the room.
She put her hands on the glass and stared at the figure allowing the flesh to layer in her mind. There was no mistaking it. The same pert nose. The high cheekbones. The perfectly shaped rosebud lips. Add the blue eyes and long blonde hair. It was Maeve. Her mind spun with the implications. She’d seen her last night and now her skeleton was on display. “Oh, Maeve.”
“Now, what do you think of my museum?” Professor Porter beamed down at her. Lucy looked into the eyes of a killer.
About the Author:
Krysta Scott is the author of the novel, Shadow Dancer. Since publishing her first book through the Wild Rose Press, she has since published two novellas in the Martini Club 4 series and three novellas in the Friday the Thirteenth series. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband, daughter and dog.
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The Boy in the Bubble by Stephen B. King
Fun Fact:
This story was inspired by meeting someone who spent his childhood as a true boy in the bubble due to severe allergies that would kill him if he left it. Later in life, when he gained some immunities, though he still has to lead a sheltered life, he suffered a hernia and the operations went wrong. We can all be grateful that he didn’t have the telekinetic power Timothy does in the story……
About The Boy in the Bubble:
Timothy has spent his life in a bubble which protects him from fatal allergies. But nature always compensates and Timothy has developed incredible telekinetic powers. When a simple hernia operation goes wrong causing him unbearable, non-stop agony, Timothy strikes back the only way he knows how by reigning death and destruction.
Snippet
Much later, when Joseph recalled the incident, he realized their attacker suddenly resembled a marionette operated by a manic puppeteer. As the man reeled backward away from the cab, his hand, which held the switchblade, trembled as it turned toward his own stomach. The man seemed to be fighting with an invisible bodyguard, and he grasped his right wrist with his left hand to try to stop the knife from stabbing into his own body. But he was fighting a losing battle, and the blade disappeared into his stomach as he screamed a blood-curdling yell which ended with an even louder shriek.
“No,” Joseph shouted frantically, “Timothy, stop.”
The man jerked the knife out, and a squirt of blood arced toward the open door, some hitting Miriam’s skirt. “Arggghhhhhh,” the mugger exclaimed and looked directly into Joseph’s eyes as the knife re-entered an inch higher, then again, and again, repeatedly until he fell to the sidewalk, shaking and kicking his legs in pain before passing into unconsciousness.
About the Author:
I am thrilled, and deeply humbled to have published 17 books. Though my first love is psychological thrillers featuring the worst serial killers imaginable, I have also written romantic thrillers, horror stories and even a time-travel romantic thriller where the protagonist comes back in time to save the world, and falls in love. Find me on FB: @stephenbkingauthor
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A Wicked Fate Mark Edward Jones
Fun Fact
I like to pluck quotes from Shakespeare’s different works and in Hamlet I found ‘Our wills and fates do so contrary run.’ I wanted to show a bit of the killers’ perspectives in this story. Can the young female antagonist, Miomir, resist her destiny, or will her uncle force her to accept her fate?
About A Wicked Fate:
Miomir ìl Kurić desires money, power, and to be feared, while unburdened by her past. Her Uncle Karanosz insists she remains a part of their unique family, one which harbors special skills … and connections to evil.
Snippet:
The ancient granite structure no longer offered Christian worshipers a place for gathering in southern Vienna. The Catholic Church abandoned then sold St. Ezekiel—some said because the hauntings had never ceased. A half-century earlier, the Jews of Vienna had been herded like cattle into the old church before transport to Mauthausen or one of its surrounding camps. The church sat empty for decades, an outcast building with broken stained glass, dusty pews and altars, and fading memories of the long-ago tragedy.
Two people had claimed a portion of the former church. A man with a fedora in his lap leaned back into a cushioned love seat, his head tilted upward with eyes shut. A young woman paced the living area, clenching an unlit cigarette between her lips.
Miomir stared and yanked the cigarette from her mouth. “Comfortable?” she asked, staring at her resting uncle. “Two dead, and now we are the hunted again.”
Tasev sighed and sat forward. “Dear Miomir, I cannot believe you let it happen.” He shook his head. “There will be many questions about the condition of the body. If someone knows your … abilities, they will identify you.”
About the Author:
Mark retired from higher education finance in 2017. He is working on his third detective mystery, has written three paranormal short stories, and has completed the first chapter of a proposed sci-fi mystery.
One morning, during the writing process of SHARE my grandson and I went on a bicycle ride through town. On our way home, our path led us beside an abandoned building with an entire wall missing. We could see something inside and climbed onto the crumbling foundation to get a better look. There, standing alone, was one single piece of furniture–a baby cradle complete with bedding. In contrast to the surroundings, the cradle was in perfect condition. The scene absolutely took my breath away, because of the similarities to my existing book cover–so much so, I snapped this picture with my phone.
About SHARE:
Expectant mother, Autumn, offers to lend her body through “lend and borrow” technology to her childless boss and mentor, Sadie, who longs to experience the movement of a child within her before she dies. However, Autumn is horrified to learn that her good intentions have warranted certain death for her unborn child. Sadie doesn’t like to share.
Snippet:
“Wow,” Autumn breathed, stopping in her tracks. “Look at that.” She pointed to a large painting of a crying infant whose colorful—was it a soul?—descended from the sky, entering the child, filling its small body with light. A Not For Sale sign was attached to the ornate frame.
Sadie approached, touching Autumn’s arm. “How far along are you?”
She turned slowly toward her. “Almost five months. But most people are surprised when I tell them. How did you know?”
“I just knew.”
“Do you have children?”
“Actually, no. I’ve had three miscarriages, each at around twelve weeks gestation. Shortly after the last one, our house burned down, and my husband died in the fire. No children, no husband. It’s just me and my shop. Loss is so painful.”
“That is heartbreaking.” Autumn wrapped an arm around Sadie. “Your husband is waiting in heaven for you. Your babies are there, too.”
“I wish that were true. But my children never drew their first breath, therefore they never received a soul.” She looked up at the painting. “The soul is granted by God when a newborn child takes its very first breath. The soul is precious. Reserved for children who thrive outside the womb, not those who merely exist inside it.”
“You said yourself it was painful to lose your children,” Marlene piped in, her words bristling with irritation.
“Extremely painful. But even more painful was the acknowledgement that each of those small, lifeless bodies lacked a soul.”
The breath whooshed from Autumn’s lungs. She steadied herself against a sturdy-looking bookcase as Marlene put an arm around her and glared at Sadie. “Seriously, lady? What you said goes way beyond polite conversation.”
“I’m sorry—”
About the Author:
Anna is a screenwriter, freelance writer, and fiction writer with twelve books in publication and over a dozen articles/stories featured in Writers’ Digest, Southern Writers, and Woman’s World magazine. She was named “Oklahoma’s Best Author of 2021” by Oklahoma Living Magazine.
In “Blanks,” my favorite character, Josiah Poopart, better known as Beaver, rides again. I liked him so much in “Stripes” that I couldn’t resist writing a sequel. I’ve known him in various forms my entire life: canoeing buddies, fellow soldiers, family members. Men with a simple yet somehow poetic view of life. None as homicidal as Beaver, of course, but they speak of the world much as he does. He is very true to my experience and very close to home. He is not sophisticated, but he is creative, and he’s never met a story he was afraid to embellish. He’s so fun to write. My hope is to write at least five stories documenting the misadventures of my lethal, bucktoothed friend. I’d like to eventually publish them as a single work. (Title suggestions are welcome. 😊) We’ll see.
I did a lot of research for this story (LSD, Spavinaw history, etc.) I always do. My favorite scene, however, wasn’t due to any research or innate creativity on my part. I really wish it was. The Tale of the Depressed Duck was given to me whole cloth by my buddy Colin. He had just had a nearly identical conversation with his wife and was wondering how he should respond. I had no advice for him but, I roared when I heard the story and had to find a way to make it Beaver’s. Fortunately, Colin was willing. I’m hoping you enjoy my retelling of The Depressed Duck. If not, that’s on me. The original version was hysterical.
About Blanks:
Beaver Poopart has graduated both the VA psych ward and the police academy. Now he’s gone to Oklahoma in search of a wayward woman. Lots of people are going to wish he hadn’t.
Snippet:
“Anyway,” I said, “thirteen weeks I spent getting my head unscrewed and re-screwed. No booze. No women. Nothing but cigarettes and all the sleep and VA chow you could eat.”
“Food bad?”
“Hell, no. I ate better than I ever did. Free, too. They had this carrot Jell-O that I got to liking a lot. Little blob of whip cream on top. Real darn good. Sometimes I think I ought to head back over there for dinner or lunch some time. In fact, we could—” I stopped myself. Shooter might meet one of my docs. He might not understand about that dead orderly, Raymond.
Nothing to do with me, of course. People break their necks falling down the stairs all the time. They don’t often die on the fire escape outside my room, but that ain’t my fault. Truth is, nobody knows what he was even doing out there. I reckoned him for a peeping Tom, and I told them so. I told them I was suing for sexual harassment. I pointed out that he kept trying to give me weed, which everybody knows is a gateway drug to sexual slavery. Turns out they had their own suspicions.
About the Author:
Christopher Farris lives in a very old, very small house in a very old, very small town nestled deep in a valley of the Boston Mountains of Northwest Arkansas. His novels, The Fountain, and Intersection: A Trucker’s Christmas Carol are available at Amazon.com, as are his Friday the 13th short stories, including the first Beaver story, “Stripes.”
The climax to the story takes place in the old Rainier Brewery in south Seattle. The huge building is next to the freeway with an iconic “R” sitting on top. Millions of people have driven past the place, but few have entered it. I decided the bowels of the building would be an ideal setting.
About The Devil’s Dregs:
A witch has stolen Steven Metcalf’s newborn son and intends to sacrifice the child to her dark lord. Steven and his two friends scour Seattle to rescue the infant, but the city has become infested with witches and their allies. Can Steven and company save the innocent before it’s too late?
Snippet:
We were about fifty yards down the hill, stumbling through the ferns and salal bushes when a bright flashlight illuminated us. A woman shouted, “This is the police! Stop where you are!”
We ignored her and increased our pace, careening down the hillside by taking flying leaps through the wet fall foliage. Gunshots rang out. I could hear the whizzing sound of bullets flying past us and into the leaves of bushes. Bark flew off a nearby tree. This caused us to leap even faster until we entered a copse of evergreens with low-hanging branches, shielding us at least from view. We crouched on the ground and gathered together as bullets continued to wiz over our heads.
“What now?” asked Hu. While normally cool as a cuke, her voice betrayed her desperation.
About the Author:
Robert Herold is the author of the award-winning Eidola Project novels, which follows a team of 19th-century ghost hunters, and The Seattle Coven Tales, declared by N. N. Light Book Heaven as the “must-read paranormal series of the year.” Find out more at:http://robertheroldauthor.com
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Feast or Famine by Jon Minton
Fun Fact
The story contains a scene at the Teatro della Pergola, an opera house in Florence, Italy. It opened in 1656 and still hosts shows today. In the scene, the main character is watching Robert le Diable, a Meyerbeer opera about the medieval legend who discovers he is the son of Satan. Released in 1831 it is known for the provocative Nun’s Ballet.
About Feast or Famine:
Theresa Salomé is cursed and blessed. Every Friday the 13th, she must kill and cannibalize her victim, extending her life. She’s collected knowledge, amassed wealth, and watched empires come and go. But as centuries pass, the cycle and isolation threaten to tear her mind apart. Is she a monster, a preview of humanity’s future, or just another pawn for gods and devils.
Snippet:
Tess’s strength and extended life came from the brain and heart, the meat and potatoes of the meal. She threw the heart to Marco, who tore into the tough muscle like butter. Despite popular opinion, the brain isn’t something you can hold. Tess scooped out gelatinous fat, slurping it from her hand like an oyster.
Everything that came after the brain and heart, just like the spinal fluid hors d’oeuvres, could be skipped. Tess reminded herself that there was a technical need. If nothing else, body disposal. On a cursed day, she tore flesh and consumed it with the same efficiency as her companion, and together, they would devour it down to the bone in a single day.
About the Author:
Jon Minton is an American speculative fiction writer based in Oklahoma City. He is a software developer but has always been passionate about a great story.
The natural springs and caverns that are part of this story were once popular spa destinations in Florida for travelers in the laste 1800s and early 1900s.
About Violet:
Ivy Powers, now Ivy Ligon, is happily married, renovations to convert the Victorian home she inherited from a distant relative into a bed-and-breakfast are almost complete, and she just discovered she’s expecting. Life is perfect except for troubling dreams and the heartbreaking wail of a child that keeps waking Ivy in the middle of the night. While one lost soul may be seeking solace, another intends to keep its secrets buried…forever. Ivy will be forced to pay a price in her quest to right a wrong…but will it be worth the cost?
Snippet:
“Did you hear about the skeleton they found at the sinkhole on Aaron Rebisz’s farm?”
Ivy was sitting cross-legged next to a box of ledgers from the 1900s the town librarian had dropped off for the new museum. Across the room, Truby Santella was methodically sorting four generations of war medallions donated by Pete Wilson, a retired Navy captain who came from a long line of patriotic men and women who’d served in the Armed Forces.
“Passaway is slow to reveal her secrets, but nothing stays buried forever.”
Ivy flinched at Truby’s choice of words. Although she’d slept a few more hours, undisturbed by eerie cries, the thought of a small child dying in an underground cavern unsettled her. She’d confessed her feelings to Mike who frowned sympathetically but cautioned her about jumping to conclusions.
“We don’t know what happened,” he’d said, smoothing a strand of hair out of her face. “A family could have been picnicking out in the field on top of another sinkhole and the child fell in and was trapped under the dirt and rocks. Jackie mentioned something about a health spa where people came to swim in the natural springs. Could be the child accidentally drowned or was swept away by the waters. Whatever it was, I suspect it happened a long time ago, given there are no stories about children who unexpectedly went missing in the area.”
Her husband was right. The child’s death was most likely an unfortunate mishap.
No, it wasn’t.
Ivy’d had a series of baffling and inexplicable events when she first arrived in Passaway. Premonitions, visions and dreams that seemed to be those of another woman, ghostly encounters, roses with supernatural abilities—all related to Rosemary Storm’s murder. She’d learned to trust her intuition and believe in the unbelievable.
There was a dark secret connected to the child’s skeleton spit out by the earth yesterday. What would it take for the truth to be revealed?
“You’re familiar with the town’s unofficial history.” Ivy tried to sound curious, not like she was digging. “Have you ever heard of a young boy or girl getting lost in the caverns around here?”
“That’s not something I know,” Truby drawled. “Each generation has its own secrets.”
About the Author:
Connor Treadway is the pen name for the writing team behind Gothic thrillers and mysteries. The duo lives and writes in northeastern Florida.
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Karma’s a Bitch by TL Schaefer
Fun Fact:
This was one of those stories that just appeared in my head as I drove back from a lunch meeting with my writer friends! Driving time is the best time for conjuring ideas.
About Karma’s a Bitch:
Millie is determined to prove the existence of the paranormal in Bountiful, Oklahoma. But the people of Bountiful don’t care much for strangers asking questions…
Snippet
A monster emerged soundlessly from the depths of lake into the eerie silence, the last rays of sunlight putting her on display.
She was small, no bigger than Millie, but pure presence and power surrounded her like a nimbus, making her seem larger than the men arrayed before her combined. Her naked body was mottled gray and green and brown, long knotted ropes of what looked like moss shrouding her face. She was grotesque and stunning at the same time, and her terrible, terrifying beauty made the breath clog in Millie’s lungs.
The water streaming off of the monster was clear, and all around her water lilies formed and bloomed, a riot of green and white and pink against cool, crisp water that had looked black and clouded just a moment before.
A kind of wonder tinged with terror swept through Millie, leaving chill bumps on her arms as she looked and tried to comprehend. Failed. She’d never seen anything like this. Had a feeling no one had, except the men who’d summoned the creature.
About the Author:
TL Schaefer writes mysteries/police procedurals that also have a romance twined throughout. And likely some stuff that goes bump in the night.
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Knockers by Mary Coley
Fun Fact
The KNOCKERS story came together after visiting the famous Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, CO this summer.
About Knockers:
Trina Ellsbury needs a break. Then she checks into the StayLonger Inn. The desk clerk neglects to tell her about Knockers that linger on the fifth floor, or the history of Room 511.
Snippet:
“Front Desk. How may I help you?” A woman asked.
“Trina Ellsbury in 511. I need maintenance. The water in my bathtub is brown.”
“511? That can’t be right. What room, Ms. Ellsbury?”
“511. I checked in last night and have been here all day.”
The woman cleared her throat. “I have no one in 511. We don’t rent that room. Please check the number again. I’ll be happy to send someone up.”
“Trip has been here several times today.”
“Trip? We don’t have an employee by that name.”
“Then ask Lou. He delivered food and picked up something for the cleaners. I assure you I’m here and in room 511.”
“Lou? We have no one on staff named Lou. I’ve been at the desk all day.”
“Mr. Jenkins has helped me each time I’ve called. Get him, please. Mr. Jenkins, the manager.”
“There is no Mr. Jenkins. I’m Sandra Lawson, the night manager.”
Someone knocked on the door. Knock…knock, knock, knock, knock. Five times. In my head, the two answering knocks sounded.
“Maintenance, Ms. Ellsbury.” Trip called. He knocked five times.
Through the peephole, I recognized Trip’s blazing smile. I knocked twice in response, loudly, and let him in.
About the Author:
Mary Coley thinks in mysteries. Her favorite question is WHY? A traveler, nature and dog lover, her next story is just around the corner. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband and Trixie, their current rescued hound.
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Spine Chilling by Michelle Godard-Richer
Fun Fact
I put up a post in The Booklounge For Readers and Authors to ask men which classic books were their favorites to decide which book Peter McFadden would possess.
About Spine Chilling:
Peter McFadden’s life is ending, but he isn’t ready to leave this world and his killing ways behind. His spirit lingers inside his favorite vintage book, tethering him to this world, while he waits for his next victim.
Snippet:
Esme kneeled beside her sister and angled the flashlight on her phone into the dark space beneath the box spring. The beam illuminated two boxes. A black metal case and a big shoe box.
Lucy pulled them out. “If he had anything valuable in this room it would be inside these.” She tugged the metal box towards her and lifted the latches. “Yep, this is his old Colt. We’ll take this with us. What’s in that one?”
With an unexplainable sense of unease lifting the hair on the back of her neck, Esme pulled the shoe box towards her and flipped it open. “This is weird.” She picked up a bundle of cards, with a woman’s driver’s license on top, held together by an elastic band. She tugged the elastic off and spread what turned out to be a bunch of driver’s licenses across the carpet. They all belonged to young women. “What the hell, Luce? Why would he have these?”
“I don’t know. I’ll google the names.” Lucy’s fingers flew across her iPhone as she glanced at the driver’s licenses. Her skin turned clammy, and her hands shook.
“What’s wrong, Luce?”
“Ohmigod. I’ve searched three of the names so far, and they were all murdered by the Colorado Strangler. And the police still haven’t caught him. But that still doesn’t explain why Dad has these.” Lucy picked up a small jewelry box, the only other thing left in the shoe box. “I wonder what’s in here.”
Esme’s stomach twisted into a tight knot as her brain worked through the shock of their discovery and arrived at a horrific conclusion. “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”
“Why not?” Lucy opened the box, then dropped it, and covered her mouth.
The box landed on its side and a mound of gleaming white teeth spilled out all over the carpet. Almost as if their father had polished each tooth individually after…he yanked them out of someone’s mouth.
About the Author:
Michelle Godard-Richer is the award-winning author of The Fatal Series. She writes edge-of-your-seat suspenseful stories with strong protagonists and diabolical villains. linktr.ee/mgodardricher
If you like slasher/horror stories, check out my new release. A short Halloween horror story: You’re Invited
ONLY 99 cents!!
Excerpt:
“You what?” Morgan glared at Axel. “You left her out there? You’re a tool.” She was already annoyed at him for dressing like Elvis. Her parents had been huge fans and she loved him too. There was only one Elvis, and Axel dressing like and trying to imitate him was completely disrespectful.
He laughed. “Come on, cuz. I’m just messing around. I’ll go get her here in a minute. I’m just wanting to see how long she’ll wait.”
“Oh…she’ll wait forever for her Romeo.” Liesel put a hand on her heart and fluttered her eyes.
The others laughed.
“It’s not funny,” Morgan bit out. “That’s the only reason you invited her, isn’t it? So you could screw with her? Sometimes you guys are just evil.” She slammed her empty cup onto the picnic table and grabbed Axel’s hand. “Come on, we’re going to get her right now.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”
She scowled. Even after his apology, she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. She loved him, and she was so grateful to his family for taking her and Hadley in after their parents died. And he’d been good to her, making sure she was included in a group that normally wouldn’t give her a second look. But sometimes, he could be a real dick. “Take me to where you left her. Hopefully, she didn’t try to come back on her own and get lost.”
They headed through the gate and into the woods. Shit. It was sooo dark. The poor girl was probably terrified. And cold. The weather was mild compared to most Octobers in in Minnesota, but it was still chilly.
“Celina!” she called. “We’re on our way. Just hang tight.” She didn’t know if the girl could hear her, but she continued to call our reassuring words.
They’d gone maybe twenty feet when Morgan saw something up ahead. The moonlight was nearly obscured by the tree branches, but the path was well-lit enough for her to make out Celina…lying on the ground…something dark and oily, like blood, oozing around the dagger…
Morgan stumbled back, a scream rising from her throat and echoing into the night.
It’s that time of year….Halloween month! I’m pleased to share an interesting article from Randy Overbeck…
Halloween or All Hallowed Eve
Halloween, the great America tradition, when everyone, young and old, enjoys getting at least a little scared and revels in a little mystery. The night when beggars prowl the streets seeking candy and perhaps a little fright. It’s the only time of year when teens and adults will pay good money to have their pants scared off them at a thousand haunted houses around the country.
An argument can be made that the greatest scares on this night arise from chainsaw killers and raving monsters, blood sucking vampires and howling werewolves or even terrifying aliens. While I admit each and every one of these can set the blood curdling, I’d submit that’s not what Halloween is about, not really.
What we celebrate as Halloween was originally know as All Hallowed Eve. (Well, okay, it actually dates back to an ancient Celtic celebration called Samhain and a Roman holiday, Feralia, both of which were incorporated over the centuries into the Christian All Hallowed Eve.) All Hallowed Eve, later Halloween, was the day Christians honored those who have passed and, on this day, they acknowledged sometimes the dead are still with us. While the traditions of these celebrations differed from culture to culture—for example, the Romans brought offerings to graves and the Celts were required to sacrifice some of their children (yikes!)—the one thread that runs through all three celebrations is the steadfast belief in ghosts. The Celts, the Romans and the early Christians understood there is but a thin veil that separates this world from the next. This autumnal feast, halfway between the end of harvest and the winter solstice, was the day spirits from the other side chose to cross this veil and visit the living.
According to legends, some of these ghosts were friendly, if sometimes michievious, while others were angry, malevolent and even violent. But those humans celebrating Samhain or Feralia or All Hallowed Eve/Halloween knew that they ignored these visiting spirits at their peril and knew they needed to honor the ghosts.
So while Dracula or Freddie or Ironman might make better costumes for this year’s Halloween celebration—I mean, how do you dress like a ghost anyway—you would do well not to ignore the spirits roaming among us. They require us to honor them and the dead who have gone, because all too soon we will join them.
Oh, by the way, I thought I saw something shimmering behind you. Don’t look.
Happy Halloween! You might want to celebrate the holiday by learning about ghosts reading my Haunted Shores Mysteries, #1 BLOOD ON THE CHESAPEAKE (which is also a #1 Amazon Best Seller) #2 CRIMSON AT CAPE MAY and #3 SCARLET AT CRYSTAL RIVER.
Blurb
All Darrell Henshaw wanted was to enjoy his honeymoon with his beautiful wife, Erin, in the charming town of Crystal River on the sunny Gulf Coast of Florida. Only a pair of ghosts decide to intrude on their celebration. And not just any ghosts, the spirits of two young Latino children. Unwilling at first to derail the honeymoon for yet another ghost hunt, Darrell finally concedes when a painting of the kids comes alive, weeping and pleading for his help.
When he and Erin track down the artist, they discover the children’s family were migrant workers the next county over. But when they travel there, their questions about the kids gets their car shot up and Erin hospitalized. Torn between fear and rage, Darrell must decide how far he will go to get justice for two young children he never even knew.
Review Blurbs
“Scarlet at Crystal River is an eerie paranormal mystery I couldn’t stop reading. Randy Overbeck is a masterful writer of the paranormal, drawing the reader in before instilling shivers down the spine. 5+ stars.” –N. N. Light’s Book Heaven
“A rollercoaster of a mystery, hurtling up and down hills and sharp corners until the very end, when the reader is left slightly breathless, waiting for their hearts to beat back to a normal rhythm. ★★★★★—ReadersView
“Scarlet at Crystal River is a suspenseful paranormal novel with compelling characters and an enigmatic mystery that drives the story to a riveting conclusion. Overbeck is a master at building tension–-this is easily a one-sitting read.” ★★★★★—Literary Titan
Dr. Randy Overbeck is an award-winning educator, author and speaker. As an educator, he served children for four decades in a range of roles captured in his novels, from teacher and coach to principal and superintendent. His thriller, Leave No Child Behind (2012) and his recent mysteries, the Amazon No. 1 Best Seller, Blood on the Chesapeake,Crimson at Cape May and Scarlet at Crystal River have earned five star reviews and garnered national awards including “Thriller of the Year–ReadersFavorite.com, “Gold Award”—Literary Titan, “Mystery of the Year”—ReadersView.com and “Crowned Heart of Excellence”—InD’Tale Magazine. As a member of the Mystery Writers of America, Dr. Overbeck is an active member of the literary community, contributing to a writers’ critique group, serving as a mentor to emerging writers and participating in writing conferences such as Sleuthfest, Killer Nashville and the Midwest Writers Workshop. When he’s not writing or researching his next exciting novel or sharing his presentation, “Things Still Go Bump in the Night,” he’s spending time with his incredible family of wife, three children (and their spouses) and seven wonderful grandchildren.
Tis the season…what better time to get lost in A World of Gothic?
A group of authors from countries all over the world were drawn together by our love of the classic gothic mysteries by authors such as Daphne du Maurier, Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney.
While the stories are stand-alone, they each share a recurring thread of a Spinel stone, which can play a small or large part in the plot. We have stories set in Scotland, Greece, Oklahoma, Florida, France, Ireland, and more.
Shadows and Lies ~ A World of Gothic: Louisiana by Raine English
ON SALE for 99 Cents!!
**** Contest! Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card – I’ll be sharing all 10 books on my blog on various days and on Oct 31st, I’ll share all 10 in the same post. On November 5th, I’ll draw a winner. Receive additional entries for each task you perform. (Details below)
A shadowy figure haunts Turnberry House, and a trail of death follows…
When Olivia Lockwood leaves the comfort of her quaint Massachusetts home for an eerie mansion in Louisiana to fulfill her grandfather’s dying wish, she has no idea of the long-buried secrets that await her there. Or whether Jaxon Carter, her grandfather’s right-hand man, might steal her heart or put her life in jeopardy.
Tis the season…what better time to get lost in A World of Gothic?
A group of authors from countries all over the world were drawn together by our love of the classic gothic mysteries by authors such as Daphne du Maurier, Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney.
While the stories are stand-alone, they each share a recurring thread of a Spinel stone, which can play a small or large part in the plot. We have stories set in Scotland, Greece, Oklahoma, Florida, France, Ireland, and more.
Raven of Blackthorn Manor ~ A World of Gothic: Ireland by Gemma Juliana
ON SALE for 99 Cents!!
**** Contest! Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card – I’ll be sharing all 10 books on my blog on various days and on Oct 31st, I’ll share all 10 in the same post. On November 5th, I’ll draw a winner. Receive additional entries for each task you perform. (Details below)
When Morgana Pierce accepts an invitation to Blackthorn Manor, known as Ireland’s most haunted property, she hopes to convince the gloomy owner, Sir Dermott Blackthorn, to allow her crew to film the property for her paranormal series.
Morgana has a secret of her own. She’s on a quest to find the father she never knew. Her only clue to his whereabouts led her to this bleak property on an isolated windswept Irish peninsula, where myths, legends and goddesses still seem to live and breathe.
Morgana’s ability to communicate with the dead soon puts her in danger as she learns there have been several suspicious deaths and disappearances in recent years. Threats against her own life force her to decide how to navigate an ever darker reality.
Dermott Blackthorn’s ancestral line has been cursed for nine generations, and he is the last one. His death is imminent if things unfold as they have for the previous eight Blackthorns.
Morgana is attracted to Blackthorn’s mysterious and moody house guest, Ronan McIver. He is both protective and dismissive of her, sending mixed signals. What is he doing at Blackthorn Manor?
As the danger surrounding Morgana intensifies, the setting is ripe for the perfect storm. She must rely on someone, but who can she trust?
Tis the season…what better time to get lost in A World of Gothic?
A group of authors from countries all over the world were drawn together by our love of the classic gothic mysteries by authors such as Daphne du Maurier, Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney.
While the stories are stand-alone, they each share a recurring thread of a Spinel stone, which can play a small or large part in the plot. We have stories set in Scotland, Greece, Oklahoma, Florida, France, Ireland, and more.
The House in the Pines ~ A World of Gothic: East Texas by Janis Susan May
ON SALE for 99 Cents!!
**** Contest! Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card – I’ll be sharing all 10 books on my blog on various days and on Oct 31st, I’ll share all 10 in the same post. On November 5th, I’ll draw a winner. Receive additional entries for each task you perform. (Details below)
Hired to write the biography of elderly tycoon Henry Wolfe, Dianne Grayson happily comes to Wolfe House, a Victorian mansion set deep in the piney woods of East Texas… a house she has always wanted to see. Henry Wolfe is just as autocratic and overbearing as she expected, but no matter how he acts she is determined to stay there until she gets the answers she wants. What she did not count on was his rugged grand-nephew and a startlingly handsome and attentive young cowboy, both of whom show great interest in her, nor how the mysteries of the past can affect and endanger the present day. Once she discovers the truth, is it too late for her to save her own life?
Tis the season…what better time to get lost in A World of Gothic?
A group of authors from countries all over the world were drawn together by our love of the classic gothic mysteries by authors such as Daphne du Maurier, Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney.
While the stories are stand-alone, they each share a recurring thread of a Spinel stone, which can play a small or large part in the plot. We have stories set in Scotland, Greece, Oklahoma, Florida, France, Ireland, and more.
House at the Edge ~ A World of Gothic: Greece by MM Jaye:
ON SALE for 99 Cents!!
**** Contest! Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card – I’ll be sharing all 10 books on my blog on various days and on Oct 31st, I’ll share all 10 in the same post. On November 5th, I’ll draw a winner. Receive additional entries for each task you perform. (Details below)
He wants her out of his house. The house agrees…
After losing everything—her family, her home, her sense of self—former heiress, Daphne Alesi, has no choice but to start anew. Broke, unwanted, and suffering from a rare condition that makes defining her emotions mind-numbingly difficult, the only thing she has left is a strong will to survive.
Starting over on a remote Greek island, in the dead of winter, just because it was her grandmother’s birthplace might be a foolish plan, but staying in England is not an option.
The people of Alonissos are far from welcoming, not least the brooding recluse whose home she literally invades. The infamous House at the Edge is rumored to host a ghost—the soul of the enigmatic owner’s deceased wife. But it will take more than an angry spirit to send Daphne fleeing.
Being emotionally detached has some benefits, after all.
Tis the season…what better time to get lost in A World of Gothic?
A group of authors from countries all over the world were drawn together by our love of the classic gothic mysteries by authors such as Daphne du Maurier, Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney.
While the stories are stand-alone, they each share a recurring thread of a Spinel stone, which can play a small or large part in the plot. We have stories set in Scotland, Greece, Oklahoma, Florida, France, Ireland, and more.
Dark Hunt by Tamrie Foxtail
ON SALE for 99 Cents!!
**** Contest! Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card – I’ll be sharing all 10 books on my blog on various days and on Oct 31st, I’ll share all 10 in the same post. On November 5th, I’ll draw a winner. Receive additional entries for each task you perform. (Details below)
Cassie O’Dey arrives in Virtue, Florida searching for information about Becca, the mother who abandoned her. While staying at the same bed and breakfast where Becca last stayed, Cassie encounters a familiar ghost.
Walker Thayner, a widower, has returned to Virtue to work on restoring the bed and breakfast his family has owned for generations. Hoping to find solace in his work, Walker has shut himself off emotionally. Despite his sullen demeanor Cassie finds herself drawn to him.
Even as hopes of a future in Virtue fill her heart, Cassie finds her thoughts drawn to the dark past of this small Florida town. Can she solve a murder that took place a quarter of a century in the past and put the ghost of Becca O’Dey to rest?
Excerpt:
The old radiator in the bedroom was putting out some heat, thank goodness. Florida had nothing on Pennsylvania when it came to cold weather, but North Florida was still colder than I had expected.
I finished the last few chapters of the book and still wasn’t ready to sleep. I was used to working the two till ten shift at the restaurant then staying up until two in the morning once I got home.
There was no TV, no internet, so I searched the upstairs bookcase in the hall for something to read. I pulled out a copy of Jane Eyre, one of those books I’d heard about, but never read. I held it in one hand, enjoying the feel of it, the worn leather cover and the gilt edging.
Had my mother read this book? Had her fingers turned the pages?
I shoved the book back into place. Why couldn’t I either forgive her for walking out on us or just let her memory go? Memory? That was a laugh. I hadn’t even been a year old when she left. I didn’t have a single memory of the woman. I wondered if Morgan or his sister knew where she had gone. If they did, what then? Did I really want to contact her? What was I supposed to do, call her up and say “Hey, remember me? I’m the kid you walked out on twenty-five years ago. So, tell me what you’ve been up to. Did you pop out anymore kids that you walked out on?”
I scanned the rest of the titles on the shelf, trying to take my mind off my mother but the thoughts persisted. For the thousandth time I wondered if I had a half-sibling or two somewhere.
The hall was colder than my room had been. I wrapped my arms around myself. Motion caught the corner of my eye and I turned my head.
A woman hovered at the end of the hall. Her face was turned away from me, facing the ceiling. Long, dark hair trailed down her back and the edge of the long, pale gown she wore swung two feet above the worn wooden floors.
Tis the season…what better time to get lost in A World of Gothic?
A group of authors from countries all over the world were drawn together by our love of the classic gothic mysteries by authors such as Daphne du Maurier, Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney.
While the stories are stand-alone, they each share a recurring thread of a Spinel stone, which can play a small or large part in the plot. We have stories set in Scotland, Greece, Oklahoma, Florida, France, Ireland, and more.
Haunting at Spook Light Inn by Alicia Dean
ON SALE for 99 Cents!!
**** Contest! Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card – I’ll be sharing all 10 books on my blog on various days and on Oct 31st, I’ll share all 10 in the same post. On November 5th, I’ll draw a winner. Receive additional entries for each task you perform. (Details below)
A writer travels to a remove bed and breakfast to debunk the superstition of an eerie spook light. But when she encounters a ghost, she has to re-evaluate her beliefs. Now someone…or something…wants to harm her. Is it a long-dead spirit, or a living, breathing human being?
Excerpt:
A glimpse through the trees made me halt. A man. I moved closer and recognized Declan, although his back was to me. Three headstones were spaced four feet apart. Declan stood in front of a white marble teardrop-shaped stone with roses carved into the side that looked newer than the others.
His sister’s grave?
He wore a charcoal gray wool trench coat with the collar pulled up around his neck. His breath came out like wisps of smoke in the cold air. Snow dampened his dark blonde hair, making it look almost black. He was unaware of my presence. His focus was on the grave.
Sympathy pierced my heart, and I blinked back tears. He looked so forlorn, so alone. I had to tighten my hands into fists inside my coat pockets to keep from reaching out to him. My efforts wouldn’t be welcome.
After several moments of silence, I began to wonder if I’d really heard his voice. Although I’d had to take the path to get here, a small grouping of trees were all that separated this area from the carriage house, so it was possible. But had he been speaking to his sister? He didn’t seem the type of man to give in to sentiments such as talking to a dead loved one.
I no sooner had the thought than he spoke again. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. I wish we’d gotten along better, but I did love you. I never wanted this to happen. I only wanted to protect you.”
Feeling like a spy and not wanting to continue intruding on his privacy, I stepped back. My foot landed on an icy tree branch lying on the ground, and the sound exploded like a firecracker in the still afternoon.
Declan whirled to look at me.
My heart leapt to my throat.
His expression tightened in anger. “Ms. Burditt? What in God’s name are you doing out here?”
“I—I was just…taking a walk.” I cast a guilty glance over my shoulder, then looked back at him.
He peered in the direction from which I’d come. “You were at the carriage house?” The words were barked like an accusation.
“Y-yes. I just…” I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling the cold even though the wind was still calm. “I just came upon it. I didn’t go in. The doors were locked.” I realized my error as soon as I said the words. Too late to take them back.
“You tried to get in?” He stalked over until he stood directly in front of me, looming like a dark angry cloud. “The carriage house is off limits. Stay away from it, do you understand me?”
I swallowed. “I wasn’t going to hurt anything, I was just curio—”
“I said stay away.” His voice was deadly, his eyes molten steel. “Do I make myself clear?”
For one brief moment, the fury in his eyes made me think he might be capable of murder after all. Namely, mine. I couldn’t speak, so I only nodded. He held my gaze for a few more gut wrenching moments, then stormed away.
Author Alicia Dean 