tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61295342789629677092023-11-24T18:50:24.963-06:00Scary GoodE.M. Bryant's Hunt for Haunted Life:
Paranormal interviews, adventures, and the occasional new book announcement. Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-35734376891028176972023-11-24T18:49:00.002-06:002023-11-24T18:49:24.251-06:00It's Always Socks<p>Thanksgiving this year was peacefully silent and void of any drama or chaos. I have friends who would strongly argue that's not real Thanksgiving haha. They may be right.</p><p>It's Black Friday, and the most shopping I've done is add a pickup order of typical groceries and self-care items: shampoo, soap, milk, dog food, Advil, and socks. It's always socks. </p><p>I took a walk with the pup earlier and was immediately reminded that the years in Texas have softened my cold weather adaptation. To a pathetic level.</p><p>Still, I remain grateful to be back, cozying up to a fire in the fireplace, and a symphony of dog snores setting the mood. The noise is my head is still anger, but it's feeling different now. Less volatile and more resolved to move forward. There's power in cutting ties with those who no longer need to take up space in your story. Sure, they could be villains, but true villains should still be worthy of one's time. And this...period of noise...has taken up more space and time than it ever deserved.</p><p>So l I'll remind myself, and whomever else needs a challenge: Whatever else is coming, let me be the commander of my principles. And fuck off to whomever tries to disturb my resolve.</p><p>Coming soon - because it IS - new story update!</p>Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-87326636825369598532023-10-01T19:42:00.000-05:002023-10-01T19:42:28.847-05:00To Hell and Back<p>Sometimes it's easier to pretend the bad isn't as bad as we think. But when we are hit with raw data, it's hard to look the other way.</p><p>This is a return, of sorts.</p><p>A little over 7 years ago, I packed up and left Missouri for Texas; my heart full of promises of opportunity, massive earning potential, the adventure of a new city. All of that. </p><p>I write this sitting in my late father's bedroom, pondering all the risks taken and weighing the losses against the gains. I wonder if I'll come back from this, or if the sting will just continue to dig deeper.</p><p>Reality wasn't necessarily unkind. I have met amazing people I intend to stay in touch with and see as often as possible. The other side of the pendulum swung, though. In 7 years, I've lost 4 significant family members. That's still gut-wrenching. Financially, the move to Texas has been utterly draining.</p><p>I have been rejected.</p><p>I stopped writing.</p><p>I stopped dreaming.</p><p>I stopped knowing myself. </p><p>The wins I thought were wins were actually no more than survival tactics. </p><p>It's dark, it's bleak. But I'm still here. Still pushing back against these walls. </p><p>I left Texas last Wednesday. It was a hard drive mainly because I'm still fighting off lingering Covid symptoms. But also, as I crossed over into Missouri from Arkansas, I had a panic attack. For a second I wondered if leaving Texas was wrong. It was wrong - still wrong - not to tell the friends I love that I truly left. It was a quick "be back in a month" convo, but me coming back is mainly to pack up the rest of the apartment. Because everything inside of me has been screaming to get out. </p><p>The panic attack, I believe, was my body surrendering to the weight of the years of overwhelming stress and disappointment. Yes, still bleak. But as I took deep breaths and looked at my surroundings, a calmness took hold. The air was no longer hot and stifling Texas air. There was a breeze. The sun wasn't as harsh. The leaves on the ground even had that beginning gorgeous fall blush. </p><p>I could breathe again. </p><p>I could come back from this.</p><p>The pendulum will swing back, but this time in my favor. At least I hope.</p><p>And having hope is already a sign that things are shifting.</p><p>I started this adventure over 7 years ago convinced that as long as my intentions were good, nothing too tough for me to handle could throw me off my game. </p><p>The idea of defeat and failure is devastating, as is the knowledge that people you put faith in as having equally good intentions is the purest form of deceit. </p><p>Maybe it isn't defeat if I got away, though. Maybe it isn't failure if I'm already making plans to rebuild.</p><p>Maybe the real proof that I'll be okay is starting a new story. One of hope...</p><p><br /></p>Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-79352360210370190482021-11-02T21:07:00.003-05:002021-11-02T21:09:24.026-05:00LIFE AFTER A DEATH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDACwpgT_xTscfeKslxKuEEOaOy6PeZJkNZIHYVXVLDXA-ehIsv575cuHLTy7C211vENcrpYmgE5RWIbkMJushDZ-Bdt-4o92rflZkHHZbuLxkb2pBP9Ea47AU77F1yRwFDhiXGooDlKw/s1920/sad-ge44091675_1920.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="1920" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDACwpgT_xTscfeKslxKuEEOaOy6PeZJkNZIHYVXVLDXA-ehIsv575cuHLTy7C211vENcrpYmgE5RWIbkMJushDZ-Bdt-4o92rflZkHHZbuLxkb2pBP9Ea47AU77F1yRwFDhiXGooDlKw/s320/sad-ge44091675_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>In a post-2020 world, we're all used to Zoom, Skype, all the virtual connections. It's just another way to have a conversation without wearing any pants or a bra. For this I am grateful. </p><p>It was pretty uneventful to be chatting about winter plans when my friend just mundanely adds the following to the conversation: "I think I'm going to rewrite my brother's obituary."</p><p>I've known Abby for probably half my life. We grew up in neighboring small towns in Southeast Missouri. We have the same sense of absurdity in the face of loudness - meaning we effortlessly find humor in less than ideal (or appropriate) situations. </p><p>It's that humor that got us both through 2020, where we both had the misfortune of losing someone we loved beyond words. Death isn't funny, to be clear. But looking back at those few months after my Dad passed away, and it's very clear I was out of my mind. Grief is like that - you push your feet forward. Put clothes on. Interact with people. Even laugh at normal situations. The sentiment isn't insincere, but it is robotic. Because part of grief is living through the pain of your heart being ripped apart every hour of the day. </p><p>Grief is worse than death. It shows up when you least expect it - like at Target when you're just picking out underwear. Or at a restaurant with friends. Like a sucker punch, it hits you. Literally. And you have no explanation to anyone around you other than "yes, I'm crying. No, I don't need anything. No, I'm not fine...except I am...except I'm not...there's nothing you can do...except maybe don't look at me...but this will pass...it's just a moment. An ugly moment."</p><p>Abby dealt with her grief the way people deal with long lines. She grew impatient, desperate to find a way out of a club no one wants to be part of. She wanted to find herself again - her old self. To move forward without her mind flashing back to that horrible day. So it wasn't out of the normal for her to lash out. But hell, we're all just trying to get through it. </p><p>Her brother passing wasn't completely out of the blue. He struggled with addiction his entire life. In a way, Abby said her parents expected that day - THAT phone call. Not that it made it easier. And in death, we all focus on something. We have to, right? Something to do to keep our minds off of that moment. </p><p>But like everything else, eventually the feelings we try to choke back return. Moments we would like to relive so we can redo them return. Mine was a particularly horrendous moment with my mom. We were packing up my dad's things in the nursing home. There was a mixture of closure knowing I'd never have to set foot in that place again. Then there was the other thing - knowing I'd never see him again. Knowing I wasn't there the moment he passed. Praying to God, for the first time in a long time, that my grandma was there to greet him in the moment. Back at the nursing home, I was growing impatient with the amount of crap my mom wanted to keep and take home. Long story short...It was what I'll refer to as an ugly daughter moment. And I can't take it back. I can only hope people around me were forgiving as to the situation. </p><p>I have lots of regrets - big ones. Abby's regret was much more logical. She hated the obituary she wrote for her brother. It was written after 20 hours of no sleep in her childhood bedroom - I knew the hell she was talking about. It was an emotional piece for someone who strived to be logical and calm. That haunts her. </p><p>"I don't think we can rewrite obituaries more than a year later," I offered quietly. </p><p>"I'm going to ask - I don't want that one recorded forever." </p><p>I didn't have the heart to tell her it's archived in the local paper. What was the point of telling her anyway? "What would you say?" </p><p>She smirked on video and just said, "something more about him and less about how heartbroken we all were."</p><p>We're all just trying to get through it. </p><p>At the beginning of 2021, I gave myself a resolution (probably more correctly a goal) of healing. Because grief had/has taken hold. I can't say this year has been better than '20 in regards to healing or moving forward. But for what it's worth...and with barely more than a few weeks left to the year...<a href="https://www.amazon.com/E-M-Bryant/e/B00CGNCEU8?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1635905338&sr=8-1">I'm writing again.</a> </p><p><br /></p>Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-55568031617301965982020-04-21T23:08:00.001-05:002020-04-21T23:08:20.121-05:00New Blog Series: Tell Me a (Ghost) StorySo it's been a long, long hiatus from the writing world, but I'm diving back into it - just in time for a quarantine!<br />
<br />
Coming in just 2 weeks is a new blog series (same SCARY GOOD page - do subscribe!) following real-life stories of hauntings. I'm particularly excited about Part I, entitled <i>A Simple Home</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMo9Xnq-6j1zX7gvhvi8tHVbraQJEBVesUHQw9NIjasEpSO9mjWO5zdOkE2XuMKrGLzA9-SObXvy3r2B-4cBDgA7AzWwjdD3Wrs_iy6Z6vsXbPjyxc8XsBWRLvAfLV1fjxdvjxrGX4lOc/s1600/spirit-2304469_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="537" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMo9Xnq-6j1zX7gvhvi8tHVbraQJEBVesUHQw9NIjasEpSO9mjWO5zdOkE2XuMKrGLzA9-SObXvy3r2B-4cBDgA7AzWwjdD3Wrs_iy6Z6vsXbPjyxc8XsBWRLvAfLV1fjxdvjxrGX4lOc/s400/spirit-2304469_960_720.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<u>Here's a little teaser:</u><br />
<br />
There were wind chimes hanging on the front porch, swaying softly, adding extra charm to what we knew would be our home. The backyard was big enough that I knew we'd be able to add a swing-set for our son.<br />
<br />
Nothing about this modest ranch seemed odd or alarming; in fact, I remember having an argument with my husband because I was so in love with this old farmhouse north of town. Maybe it was a money pit, but I loved the arched doorways and big, open kitchen. He hated how large it was, and hell, even made a joke that it looked like it was haunted.<br />
<br />
He convinced me to downsize my dream home in the name of logic (and finances). So the little ranch crept its way up our list until it was <i>the one. </i><br />
<br />
So we went with simplicity - something affordable that we could gradually upgrade. The whole process was effortless - the buying, the closing, the moving. Looking back, maybe that should have been a red flag that something was wrong. No move is ever perfect, but this one truly was. Even with a four year-old clutching my waist.<br />
<br />
Had you asked me at the time about stepping into the unknown all because of a simple home, I would have laughed. Life was good back then. And it was for a while even after we settled in (right after the holidays, believe it or not). That summer, though, was the season that changed everything. I quickly went from skeptic to believer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ZpX5Xfy1jAXQ52a-Osx4QQHxRqypHhnZsCeAXl3H9Qkv73akUODeslrwOEeIoU5AkaTlY5qc-RVoyrMS_InOXYKNYD5ASiCWPYAZnWZXUYKOmjCDLVBOExAvShTTtYoEXK4BZ809fm0/s1600/lost-place-1676631_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ZpX5Xfy1jAXQ52a-Osx4QQHxRqypHhnZsCeAXl3H9Qkv73akUODeslrwOEeIoU5AkaTlY5qc-RVoyrMS_InOXYKNYD5ASiCWPYAZnWZXUYKOmjCDLVBOExAvShTTtYoEXK4BZ809fm0/s400/lost-place-1676631_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
STAY TUNED FOR PART I: If you're looking for a good read, check out my <a href="https://www.amazon.com/E.M.-Bryant/e/B00CGNCEU8?ref_=dbs_p_ebk_r00_abau_000000">AMAZON PAGE!</a><br />
<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-71573800745640247082018-10-21T21:57:00.002-05:002018-10-30T21:28:45.786-05:00RED MOTHER DEAD: A Merry Halloween Release!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
After probably the longest overhaul (between moving 700 miles and plucking at a vampire story...where nothing sparkles except for the floors), the release is finally upon us! And what better way to usher in Halloween than with a new story! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Below are the gritty details (with a little excerpt at the bottom)! Thank you all for the support! This story holds a special place in my heart. It was the last story started in St. Louis and the first one to finish in Dallas (coincidentally, the next story does take place in Texas...but you'll have to read this one first 😼). </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTaCP_ggvrqsJMq5vAcTbAZ82X6ly9gX1R9tRq0UBsFMmiucAosMgWWDMiByFi2VY7gV-8ojKCgMMZgtrIE9NCGIqUN5SLt6HRvcpIrlEKohzbMArnK8nZ4fSpppb8blDZXD7Sm8YO_gs/s1600/31qyLBK1DRL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTaCP_ggvrqsJMq5vAcTbAZ82X6ly9gX1R9tRq0UBsFMmiucAosMgWWDMiByFi2VY7gV-8ojKCgMMZgtrIE9NCGIqUN5SLt6HRvcpIrlEKohzbMArnK8nZ4fSpppb8blDZXD7Sm8YO_gs/s1600/31qyLBK1DRL.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span id="goog_110294076"></span><span id="goog_110294077"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<i>Undying love, a fear of the dark, and a passion for disinfectant bring forth a new romantic horror!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Brit McKay, faithful (and OCD) housekeeper of the Brennan Estate must battle germs AND the paranormal in order to keep those she loves safe. But are the disturbances truly of a paranormal nature? Or is the new tenant (and Brit's old flame) causing the chaos? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Jack Brennan has been lost in a state of depression since his wife's death. He seeks refuge at the Brennan Estate...unaware that what he's running from has found him. But is it all in his head, or has something insidious returned from the grave to haunt him? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b><u>A TEASER!</u></b><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">7:30AM<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“How long do I have to
stay here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The morning had been rough. Liam was more than a little
scared about school – that much was clear. But Brit could be tough. And as they
walked through the front doors of the school, she could sense the kid starting
to buckle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “It’s only four hours a day.” She said firmly. “You can
handle four hours of school.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She hadn’t heard of a part-time kindergarten before, and
it seemed a little ridiculous. At the same time, Liam was an anxious kid. Maybe
four hours to him felt like ten hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “But not until tomorrow, right? I don’t have to stay here
today?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She bent down on one knee to talk to him. “You had school
in Indiana, right?” He nodded softly. “This is the same situation, just with
different kids. No big deal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “What if they don’t like me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He was sucking on his lower lip nervously. “They’ll like
you. I like you, and I don’t really <i>like</i>
anybody.” He smiled at her remark, then took her hand. <i>This is how kids get to you</i>, she thought, <i>they do cute things to try and get you to forget how full of bacteria
they are.</i> “Okay, you’ll start tomorrow. Maybe your dad will have time to
drop you off in the morning, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “And you’ll come too, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She couldn’t get over his little face. One dimple on his
left cheek. Big doe eyes. And his habit of sucking on his lower lip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “Yes, I’ll drop you off either way. Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She felt his hand grip hers tighter. “Okay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “Liam,” she kept her voice steady – because she needed to
address his safety without scaring him. “I need to ask you to keep your window
closed and locked at night.” His eyes looked puzzled, so she added, “It’s too
cold at night to leave your window open. I don’t want you to get sick.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “I just left it open a little bit.” He whispered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <i>A cracked window is
all a murderer needs</i>, she thought. And after what she had seen on the news,
an attack just down the street had her on high alert. “But I need you to leave
it closed for now, okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He stared at her blankly for a moment. “But…my mama talks
to me there…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She cupped his little face in her hands. “Your mama is
always with you in spirit, Liam. But she also wants you to be safe. Just like
me, and your dad, and your Aunt Melanie. So, can you please promise me that
you’ll keep your window closed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He didn’t look very convinced. Maybe she was being
insensitive to his deceased mother. “Liam, if you get lonely at night, I’m just
down the hall. So is your dad. But the window <i>must</i> stay closed. I promise you that your mother understands. She
wants you to be safe.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brit wasn’t sure how much he understood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> “Enough talk of safety and windows, right? Let’s get some
hot chocolate.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> His face lit up. The awkwardness of the conversation
lifted. She made a mental note to check his window before she went to bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusvxqlUT73XaurmahQP6eLRFIVGlEXfA17cGRwVYq3lCXLc8oXCpH_T8LMe_Cn4yuCj2o0OBKy24RltDqpAOXX67v-7UjKv0xlozfVJEk5pXg9Dnnt5QaneKaeU3DpwFLWGoZGYRUDGA/s1600/hiding-1209131_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusvxqlUT73XaurmahQP6eLRFIVGlEXfA17cGRwVYq3lCXLc8oXCpH_T8LMe_Cn4yuCj2o0OBKy24RltDqpAOXX67v-7UjKv0xlozfVJEk5pXg9Dnnt5QaneKaeU3DpwFLWGoZGYRUDGA/s1600/hiding-1209131_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">+++</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JYZGHMF">Grab a copy here on HALLOWEEN: #RMD</a></span></div>
<i></i>Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-74892004314627167252018-08-12T18:10:00.001-05:002018-08-12T18:10:23.256-05:00Nightmare Apartment<i><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(DISCLAIMER: I love ghost stories and I love Halloween - but many a friend I've gained has had something eerie enter their life. This is a story that started nearly a decade ago - and it's one that fortunately has a good ending (so far). And, best of all, it's a great muse for a new book! Do you have any nightmare apartment or housing stories? Please share in the comments!)</span></b></i><br />
<br />
I've been an apartment dweller my entire life - which means I've probably heard every kind of noise and smelled every kind of smell possible. Good neighbors truly are what make great apartments. They create the true dynamic of a building. Good history adds great character. Happy portraits that line the common walkways as each tenant finds their own font door - portraits of past social gatherings, block parties, barbecues - they all breed the same effect. <i>Home. Comfort. Safety. </i><br />
<br />
Bad history, though, can add its very own element.<br />
<br />
A few years ago, my old friend Darren (also an apartment dweller) relocated to a tiny Midwestern town and became enchanted by a street of historical buildings and homes that date back to the early 1900s. So enthralled by the quiet tree-lined street, he actually bought a swanky 1000 sq. ft. shotgun style apartment that was inside a towering Victorian. He liked the openness of space, the 10 ft ceilings, the French doors that led to a narrow 3rd floor balcony, and the giant vintage fireplace that made the front of the apartment pop.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnXUx1UYg7t3hxLeUksYgAh19nmYws3ctnjX2M1ozdWtVPXEqhF2RAFMOZRK6N08kjVBzk2dAjbT-ZUHKnHVmakfxmA2MjP_RO6h_YF4GRyzel8U_xdQq0Na82zhe8b_EnDtwxPNJNoU/s1600/house-3290881_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnXUx1UYg7t3hxLeUksYgAh19nmYws3ctnjX2M1ozdWtVPXEqhF2RAFMOZRK6N08kjVBzk2dAjbT-ZUHKnHVmakfxmA2MjP_RO6h_YF4GRyzel8U_xdQq0Na82zhe8b_EnDtwxPNJNoU/s320/house-3290881_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The stark white Victorian had been renovated and divided into 12 separate units sometime in the 1960s. The unit Darren purchased hadn't been occupied in over a decade, and had instead been used as storage for the building's former owner. The unit - located at the end of the 3rd floor hallway - had a cozy feeling to it. But it started out as less than welcoming.<br />
<br />
After the apartment had been emptied, Darren discovered that every wall had a crucifix nailed to it. "Religious fanatics," was what Darren had been told by both the former building owner and the realtor. Former tenants who seemingly prayed day and night. It was odd, and it gave Darren pause. After all, why would a property owner leave an entire unit unoccupied for over a decade, and instead just use it for storage? That seemed like a waste of money and a waste of space in a building that stood out for its beauty and location.<br />
<br />
The lush Victorian stood tall at the end of the street. To this day, superstitions about ghosts and bad luck persist in the area. Longtime locals recounted tales of murder inside the Victorian. Specifically, a former resident had allegedly murdered his bride on their wedding night. It was an eerie and intriguing story, but there were no town or county records of any such tragedy - not inside the Victorian nor in the quiet town.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWO3S1eOaxNruP_a7Btzd3KOaPlUN9hnBIExTyQU0EtxnJ78gY8yvun6QiZmbHQZeSgTkoNEHu5GYHgR58ObpH9A0RPQ7NLzSwaybjBhRM31q3ihq2jMrBDpuk0wQLLmB1JEb4UUitV90/s1600/old-house-240903_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWO3S1eOaxNruP_a7Btzd3KOaPlUN9hnBIExTyQU0EtxnJ78gY8yvun6QiZmbHQZeSgTkoNEHu5GYHgR58ObpH9A0RPQ7NLzSwaybjBhRM31q3ihq2jMrBDpuk0wQLLmB1JEb4UUitV90/s320/old-house-240903_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Being a level-headed man, Darren pushed any reservations he had to the side and bought the unit. After 2 months of remodeling, Darren moved in. But within a week's time, he began to notice strange scratching noises at night. First he assumed it was an animal scratching against the outside of the building. But the noises soon grew louder, as if coming from <i>inside</i> the apartment.<br />
<br />
He set mouse traps and eventually adopted a cat, thinking the problem would go away. But the noises persisted. His mother, an avid believer in ghosts and the paranormal, made a 2 hour trip from St. Louis to check out her son's home. One single night in the apartment was all she needed to make an astonishing claim.<br />
<br />
"There's a demon in this house."<br />
<br />
Darren recalled rolling his eyes at her remark. She had been up investigating the scratches, but like Darren, she couldn't find a physical cause. Or even evidence that <i>anything</i> had been disturbed.<br />
<br />
"There's no demons." He said firmly. "It's an old home. There are probably rodents in the walls." He planned to hire an exterminator to investigate. But his mother doubted that was the cause.<br />
<br />
"I saw a black shadow." She alleged. "It rolled from the ceiling to the floor, like mist, then picked itself up as if it were taking the form of man, and it walked straight to the back door."<br />
<br />
Darren again dismissed her claims. "Too many scary moves."<br />
<br />
But when the hired exterminator couldn't find any evidence of rodents (or any other pests) behind the walls, his frustration grew.<br />
<br />
Until one day he noticed a strange trail of ash that was sitting in the middle of the apartment. It wasn't pieces of drywall or dirt. He couldn't explain how it got there or why. He swept it up, took the trash out, and the very next morning the trail of ash was back.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-hXzEgvuJXCwPVDIXkjsTOoaN186d2x0b1xl5-8hmdYy6CKc6WarXlWgwWMDFuZl76mQPYaWPjqWvaKCnNWzzxo5iGU0qA042UUyqSiUou1TqtpAEfGqXZAmAmf7PiHD5zRnfbPX_1M/s1600/hand-984170_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="960" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-hXzEgvuJXCwPVDIXkjsTOoaN186d2x0b1xl5-8hmdYy6CKc6WarXlWgwWMDFuZl76mQPYaWPjqWvaKCnNWzzxo5iGU0qA042UUyqSiUou1TqtpAEfGqXZAmAmf7PiHD5zRnfbPX_1M/s320/hand-984170_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
One night- the worst night - he woke up to hear what sounded like heavy footsteps walking toward the back door. He turned the lamp on next to his bed, and to his horror watched as the deadbolt on the door that led to that narrow balcony slowly began to unlock...seemingly on its own. As the deadbolt could only be locked or unlocked from inside the apartment, Darren stormed outside and spent the night in his car.<br />
<br />
Regardless of the logic he depended on always, the scratching noises just weren't going away. The trail of ash on the floor became a new daily phenomenon. Then there was the self-turning lock... And inevitably, he thought about all those crucifixes that had once lined the walls inside the unit. <br />
<br />
At long last, he called a minister and asked for help. After blessing the apartment, the noises ceased. The ash went away. Doors and locks stayed as they were. The place was quiet. In another year, the noises would return, but Darren wasted no time in calling the minister again. Every year since, he's had the apartment blessed. And each year that has passed has grown calmer and more serene.<br />
<br />
This isn't a Hollywood story where a war between heaven and hell grew to a climax, by any means. But it's a great reminder that not all alleged hauntings end with the owner(s) fleeing their home at midnight. Sometimes a haunting can be pieces of the past that simply need to be quieted so that new memories can add new life and depth.<br />
<br />
And if you're curious, Darren still lives in that 3rd floor unit. Peacefully.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8M87pl7WPdXKoN9PVvZvQjtELyq-kc-FFh30z1H0O3odVp3AJAgx9i5tm3EchxCTktXPRILi3UHfIQuzIwDv5bpGVp41sLn_RPk0VfnhJk8kuylCXM9mmv-SPQ2ycwy5xRrkqzLHCvI/s1600/old-iron-fence-1008953_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8M87pl7WPdXKoN9PVvZvQjtELyq-kc-FFh30z1H0O3odVp3AJAgx9i5tm3EchxCTktXPRILi3UHfIQuzIwDv5bpGVp41sLn_RPk0VfnhJk8kuylCXM9mmv-SPQ2ycwy5xRrkqzLHCvI/s320/old-iron-fence-1008953_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*I do not own or have copyright to images*</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-23566494148743430822018-05-30T12:43:00.001-05:002018-08-07T21:11:20.058-05:00The Trader Joe's Experience A year ago, I uprooted my life for a 10 year career and moved to Dallas. There are lots of things that happen when you have a sudden life shift. Lots of firsts. Lots of new faces. Lots of learning. And, no surprise, lots of stress.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKOhZY4rrEh2WZhZE5GdO-tw7KVqkLyt8_W9JQJIKrxYlMnneM2UeSRLDXpkzsctvM_73tN9RwfWHSH3F6k0C5A5VwclSNh5s9JPqoDi5bgSxaYGLU71o6OQzj4X4HEGP3AE1zHwVGf0/s1600/hurry-2119711_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKOhZY4rrEh2WZhZE5GdO-tw7KVqkLyt8_W9JQJIKrxYlMnneM2UeSRLDXpkzsctvM_73tN9RwfWHSH3F6k0C5A5VwclSNh5s9JPqoDi5bgSxaYGLU71o6OQzj4X4HEGP3AE1zHwVGf0/s320/hurry-2119711_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
A month ago I had a pretty severe nervous breakdown. In truth, it had been building for some time. The adrenaline high that you get from moving into a completely new environment can only last so long. Eventually, if you're not taking care of yourself and paying attention, you're gonna crash and burn.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, I've been bouncing back pretty smoothly (albeit, it's felt like a slow crawl out from under a rock). A large part of my so-far recovery has been because of great support from family and friends, and great advice: starting with getting out more.<br />
<br />
We live in an age where technology makes it possible to never leave the house unless you're going to work. I think that can be a detriment to your mental health after a while.<br />
<br />
So, breathing in fresh air and accepting my own failings, I stepped back into the world - and in this journey found myself inside a Trader Joe's.<br />
<br />
In truth, I don't know what my great expectation was, short of feeling out of place (and I did). I frequent Kroger (or wherever is closest that honors coupons). I was astonished that TJ wasn't the overpriced, hyped let-down I envisioned. And what was especially telling was just how ordinary (and generic) it was.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsEpJm5AGkNgPlIJA6487mx7zyO2hx3ZUuA0XFZRA3CEW5Pis13Z9q6RBSR_5ANUn0mz-x-ClcSqmqNLNUeS9yWYnrXaiz6jD3D34MqFsW-Hy_ieW8Ao0RWkyPaUzeybleYCQKVPBl8-s/s1600/vintage-2132310_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="960" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsEpJm5AGkNgPlIJA6487mx7zyO2hx3ZUuA0XFZRA3CEW5Pis13Z9q6RBSR_5ANUn0mz-x-ClcSqmqNLNUeS9yWYnrXaiz6jD3D34MqFsW-Hy_ieW8Ao0RWkyPaUzeybleYCQKVPBl8-s/s320/vintage-2132310_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The food? The selection was minimal and in truth I could get the same at Tom Thumb or Kroger. The size? I could get on board with a smaller store compared to the mega Kroger just a few miles from my apartment. The wine? Alright, I'll admit the price was pretty damn good. The people?<br />
<br />
There's the most interesting part. The tribal, familial, clannishness of the sandal'ed (and in one instance, socked) feet, Hawaiian shirt (or sun dress...and maybe a fedora) attire, and that airy tone of mall-girl meets hippie when discussing kale and beet salads. Quirky, friendly, and a little bit flaky. It's the flavorful people that make the Trader Joe's experience worth taking, with the goat cheese coming in at second place.<br />
<br />
Am I a TJ convert? Probably not quite, but it's given me the strength to go forward and explore Wholefoods. Food and grocer pretension aside, it's a grand thing to pull yourself out of your own comfort zone and challenge yourself. For some, it may be chasing ghosts. For me, it's encountering food snobs in grocery stores. So far, so good.<br />
<br />
On to the next! - Stay tuned for an update from a trip back home + other huge changes!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimj5A1vaFWEih6edmthG1-Yqvy6M6fJF3u9JCGI8DO_lEwg7FoHKprAktqEMF9fnPHFCeZMY38a9gdTX_XO6p7pY26-HMaL_EiOWhhyphenhyphenJahmmtV-rYQxQLbnNFF2Nx0d52vBRn8BjUNJWo/s1600/stress-391657_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="960" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimj5A1vaFWEih6edmthG1-Yqvy6M6fJF3u9JCGI8DO_lEwg7FoHKprAktqEMF9fnPHFCeZMY38a9gdTX_XO6p7pY26-HMaL_EiOWhhyphenhyphenJahmmtV-rYQxQLbnNFF2Nx0d52vBRn8BjUNJWo/s320/stress-391657_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-81183424544792819832017-10-20T20:23:00.004-05:002018-03-07T22:16:09.113-06:00UPDATE: Red Mother Dead (#RMD)After many pauses (and pauses), the final product is almost ready to be unleashed! If you missed the blurb on #RMD, click <a href="http://darkanddirtyorigins.blogspot.com/2016/02/red-mother-dead-coming-soon.html">HERE</a>.<br />
<br />
And with that, we have a lovely excerpt!<br />
<br />
<b><i><u>RED MOTHER DEAD</u></i></b><br />
<b><i><u><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></u></i></b>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Housekeeper Brit McKay has her hands full with the arrival of a widowed crush, his young son, and a chilling mystery that rattles her meticulous world of order. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-QvsoLTSQxddNum37XJIjfZWJNyXUJTHQ9unwwkc9-9DWJdSj2qdvDC3OSj2ZMK1sG8nTVxcVqWquXpsW60NN-bYOlSdRaGqfNu8penHkBDrs3oburb36iX71-ZDUPRvaeNi9QJnlS4/s1600/horror-2581018_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1418" data-original-width="1600" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-QvsoLTSQxddNum37XJIjfZWJNyXUJTHQ9unwwkc9-9DWJdSj2qdvDC3OSj2ZMK1sG8nTVxcVqWquXpsW60NN-bYOlSdRaGqfNu8penHkBDrs3oburb36iX71-ZDUPRvaeNi9QJnlS4/s320/horror-2581018_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">"Jack wanted someone to keep him on his toes. He
got that in abundance with Erica. She wanted to make a crazy and colorful life
for all of them.” Brit picked up a teddy bear off the floor and tossed it to
the stripped bed. “I was worried Jack might do something drastic after she was
murdered.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Brit sat down on the bed, holding the teddy bear
in her arms. The Jack she knew from high school was so strong, so determined.
But the statement he had made that morning was somber. Shaky. “Can I ask what
happened to Erica?”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">She saw Melanie look hesitant at first. “I don’t
think I ever was able to read all the details.” She pointed to her neck. “The
artery was severed. She bled out in seconds, or so they say.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“God! Did they catch the guy?”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Melanie shook her head. “There was some debate
over whether it was some animal attack, or if someone had somehow…” Melanie
looked away from her for a moment, as if trying to shake the details out of her
head. “Do you know what the worst part of it was? The body went missing right
after Jack identified her.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“What?”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“They said medical students, maybe. Something
about money that can be made from securing dead bodies… Organs or something. I
don’t know. I don’t even like thinking about it. I mean, the very idea of body
snatchers…just the lowest of the low.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Poor Jack. No wonder he needed to leave
Indianapolis.</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> “I’m so sorry. I had no
idea you were carrying this around all this time.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“It wasn’t my business to tell. Besides, it was
Jack I was so worried about. He was so…<i>sure</i>…that Erica wasn’t really
dead at first. He scared the hell out of me once. He called me one night,
drunk, swearing he saw her. Swearing she had come to him. That she had laid in
bed next to him. As if <i>nothing</i> had happened. And in the morning, she was
gone. And he was alone again.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil6Pgx5mCXj3X9YvKjA4Hv66qQlMZ18OpTPBUuX4pq0u-mpHJvcgw2-MyronPg1Vj6u78sqkq_F8_22k6aED23oDQt5gHY66CRoY5-zk9YEibjAHioPsWxL7LZwABBBjE2boipRfxw_3c/s1600/kid-2185539_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil6Pgx5mCXj3X9YvKjA4Hv66qQlMZ18OpTPBUuX4pq0u-mpHJvcgw2-MyronPg1Vj6u78sqkq_F8_22k6aED23oDQt5gHY66CRoY5-zk9YEibjAHioPsWxL7LZwABBBjE2boipRfxw_3c/s320/kid-2185539_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">+++</span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Special note: I had fun writing Brit's story. She's a total neat-freak. Introducing a messy kid to a neat-freak is a special kind of glorious hell! And Brit needed her world rocked...maybe not in the dark way it ended, but it's all a metaphor. Houses are messy. Kids are messy. Life is messy. </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>In many ways, this story is about conquering the past (and conquering demons). It's dark, it's funny, and it's very romantic. It's a great departure from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1508548834&sr=8-1&keywords=rapture+e.m.+bryant"><b>Rapture</b></a>, but there's (hopefully) enough scares to grip the die-hard romantic horror fans out there! And yes, it's a vampire story. Without glitter. </i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Stay tuned for more! #RMD #horror #romance #suspense </span></div>
Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-12501115193763935672017-09-19T22:33:00.003-05:002017-09-19T22:34:45.089-05:00Changing Leaves; Turning PagesI've been in Dallas for nearly 6 months now. The hardest change (and I think I knew it would be) is closing in: no true fall. If you're from the Midwest, chances are you may not like all the seasons, but there is something fantastic about the change of seasons - especially fall.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmQ-zdvnXERwyUicSiR2t-jTVzqef0ItQ63a-S8zdaW1tMNhMqae3W0dYubF8KKHnXEwHS1qug7yxhcmym31-LDWhOpGYkm04jtkqhqjt2EStmBHn6K9feCmcZX96TvShyphenhyphenTkwzqpjWcz0/s1600/autumn-437769_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmQ-zdvnXERwyUicSiR2t-jTVzqef0ItQ63a-S8zdaW1tMNhMqae3W0dYubF8KKHnXEwHS1qug7yxhcmym31-LDWhOpGYkm04jtkqhqjt2EStmBHn6K9feCmcZX96TvShyphenhyphenTkwzqpjWcz0/s320/autumn-437769_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The colors, the way the wind starts to howl instead of blow... The end of summer and impending death of another year. There are a million metaphors for fall. But I'll use one word to describe it: Enchanting.<br />
<br />
As a writer, it's no surprise I get my best material during this time of year. The days grow shorter, and the nights longer - and with all of that comes a mesmerizing sense of story. A need to tell a story, to weave more magic into a season already oozing in it. And why the hell not? I've never questioned why Halloween extinguishes October.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfi_89r5eZ5VOU90cQkxYjcw0EeUU_jQs0JLLnJTst5zEWKAFexCn7TrzMIbUoZZUHHfdyNM6ct3ltFtmrDreWR-qFSs_L9hO-qxpLqG6iTOcpb7HNLgrLgMCFrkKHYEUe0qYnf5KhG-Y/s1600/autumn-207854_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfi_89r5eZ5VOU90cQkxYjcw0EeUU_jQs0JLLnJTst5zEWKAFexCn7TrzMIbUoZZUHHfdyNM6ct3ltFtmrDreWR-qFSs_L9hO-qxpLqG6iTOcpb7HNLgrLgMCFrkKHYEUe0qYnf5KhG-Y/s320/autumn-207854_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, two short stories later, and I'm struggling to find time to work on edits while juggling a new outline. And that's magic in itself after a long writing dry spell (I blame the Texas heat). <br />
It's a strange new time in life, that's for sure. How many of you, writers and readers, have experienced a 'changing of leaves,' or turning the page on what was once habitual writing or reading? Plots, character develop, climax...all splattered with enough suspense to drive each page on (just like in life).<br />
<br />
It's my first year in Texas. It's already a page-turner.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iRhdXy2eZtWA1IPCgzjZG37WF9lqeY5O1E4-Tz9c5qDEAveUYHaUt3G_ulmPEMVKFxQM53SU1nBT1t4efip0YcKD1jXRRgy5l9lyVs_sI4Onb2cT4NE7hvRcAuvUf7QlYxc3mH5XZN4/s1600/book-1659717_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="918" data-original-width="1600" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iRhdXy2eZtWA1IPCgzjZG37WF9lqeY5O1E4-Tz9c5qDEAveUYHaUt3G_ulmPEMVKFxQM53SU1nBT1t4efip0YcKD1jXRRgy5l9lyVs_sI4Onb2cT4NE7hvRcAuvUf7QlYxc3mH5XZN4/s320/book-1659717_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
#RMDexcerptcomingsoon #thanksforfollowing #newreleasesontheway #dontforgettosubscribe #horror #romance #writing #readingLady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-60685733791206949322017-06-19T19:27:00.004-05:002017-06-19T19:27:56.813-05:00Diving South for Horror<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">I'm baaaaaack!</span></i></b></div>
<br />
It seems like just yesterday I was sitting at my desk in my St. Louis apartment, jotting down notes about people I wanted to interview, places I wanted to visit before I left, and preparations for a new book.<br />
<br />
It's strange to say a little over two months ago, I was picking up keys to a new apartment - this one in Dallas. Just like that, my lovelies, life changes. My only regret to date is that my desk is still unpacked, shoved into a corner, and I'm writing this particular entry on top of a bright yellow end table. The show must go on, right? And after a month of definitely not working on edits, here I am: Guiltily still plying through online articles about haunted dolls, and spending too much time watching paranormal evidence videos. #slacker<br />
<br />
But marching on into summer, I've got but two writing projects: <b><i>Red Mother Dead</i></b> (which I'm hoping will be out late this year), and another series in the works.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0mJFPbEOo765M8W552_rlT_HocBGS8UbrwnZy1wTonQS6iMLZo_DziWOF2M831olnu-R28qZGoj_5677Uizvvgab_nMRMAHaIyrX0ti09j5aclVnVlDX4gnGBfdN0cK7_U3CTdLy8E0/s1600/moonlight-1226253_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="978" data-original-width="1600" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0mJFPbEOo765M8W552_rlT_HocBGS8UbrwnZy1wTonQS6iMLZo_DziWOF2M831olnu-R28qZGoj_5677Uizvvgab_nMRMAHaIyrX0ti09j5aclVnVlDX4gnGBfdN0cK7_U3CTdLy8E0/s320/moonlight-1226253_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b><i>Red Mother Dead</i></b>, if I haven't mentioned it, is the first standalone after the <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sKH-XUe3Rw">Diary Trilogy</a></i> ended. And while the very utterance of vampires conjures up images of Rob Pattinson sparkling like he'd been clubbing all night, this story is straight up horror with a large romantic element.<br />
<br />
<b><i>RMD</i></b> picks up the story of Brit: a single and somewhat lonely housekeeper with major anal retentive tendencies. She's had some bumps in her young life, but keeps a firm hold on the appearance (and cleanliness) of the estate.<br />
<br />
Enter Jack, her former high school crush, who is widowed with a young son, and suddenly the daily stability and predictability is squashed...because Jack has brought something with him that casts a darkness over the household. And it's not the sexy <i>Twilight</i> kind.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde90C5IIV9Q72PeC2wCh8n6GVoqeMQL6_A5Su_qE2nIbIJ0seb3qJbQBMmgMZegzj9B-6tjHQx2lL0oOhy46VFe-pDWBPyPvdM6Kol-973jMP6zZWYP78IP5Zw-LEh1wWJULm1bsi1A0/s1600/monster-773309_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1305" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde90C5IIV9Q72PeC2wCh8n6GVoqeMQL6_A5Su_qE2nIbIJ0seb3qJbQBMmgMZegzj9B-6tjHQx2lL0oOhy46VFe-pDWBPyPvdM6Kol-973jMP6zZWYP78IP5Zw-LEh1wWJULm1bsi1A0/s320/monster-773309_1920.jpg" width="260" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b><u>The influence:</u></b><br />
<br />
I saw a documentary years ago about allegedly real-life vampires. One tale, in particular, really, really bothered me. It was about a young girl who "died," only she allegedly visited her father afterwards - terrifying him with a decaying face and trying to bite and feed off him. It brought me back to what vampires really are: our worst fears. The end of the story - which brought a village together to essentially destroy the girl's body - folded up neatly with the father mentioning how his deep love for his child had been tainted by what she had become. He swore he would try the rest of his life to find that love again, but the memory of something insidious speaking in the same voice and wearing the same face as his child would always haunt him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkaTp_DeZ1WfBIoH_0W7Si3RYTeMBMvv_1iGPlFHOoTe6MgfYgrY4yHO4pzVXuyX5p3tz1m60_L7h7Ny9VpWW2V8L88CxQCJ2Us2HT-aMoYob4wYHU7JTY5L6QBAFNk5w1wYKHT_9xlss/s1600/vampire-1239440_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkaTp_DeZ1WfBIoH_0W7Si3RYTeMBMvv_1iGPlFHOoTe6MgfYgrY4yHO4pzVXuyX5p3tz1m60_L7h7Ny9VpWW2V8L88CxQCJ2Us2HT-aMoYob4wYHU7JTY5L6QBAFNk5w1wYKHT_9xlss/s320/vampire-1239440_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
A few pages of character plot-lines later, and <b><i>RMD</i></b> was well on its way. But with its own twist.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for excerpts! Thanks for following! <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BTCHWj7e9M">You can check out a brief book trailer here (though the book cover is no longer the same). </a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-77919232932790280672017-02-12T13:41:00.004-06:002017-02-12T13:42:55.971-06:00Winter Special: A Heartland Haunting <div style="text-align: center;">
<i><u><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(For the sake of anonymity, the names of those in this interview have been changed. And the graphics provided do not represent the family's true property. I do not own rights to graphics.)</b></span></u></i></div>
<i><u><br /></u></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5DBgPpBz8h2SAQFEu4XnD0BUw1sYBZoZn1Zn2nt_MjQF1ExwR9zpCKRJIFF_dyJ5b0GSL4LZA95VToL2PyTeuzH8Sb7hT8vUTnflUO7nxiRrQqRzJiIGDQFEJWWJBUa10JWwAJFe-tE/s1600/forest-22118_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5DBgPpBz8h2SAQFEu4XnD0BUw1sYBZoZn1Zn2nt_MjQF1ExwR9zpCKRJIFF_dyJ5b0GSL4LZA95VToL2PyTeuzH8Sb7hT8vUTnflUO7nxiRrQqRzJiIGDQFEJWWJBUa10JWwAJFe-tE/s400/forest-22118_960_720.jpg" width="325" /></a></div>
<i><u><br /></u></i>
<br />
About 100 miles northeast of St. Louis is a massive piece of land that stretches over 30 acres. It's hilly on one end, while the other is flatter, with a large fishing lake, lots of trees, and 3 vegetable gardens. It's the kind of setting that landowners fantasize about. It's quiet, it's secluded, and the family that lives on the land has roots that date back to the Civil War.<br />
<br />
I met Joy through her daughter-in-law, Lacy, who I went to college with for a short time. At the age of 20, Lacy married Joy's son, Will. And after Lacy earned her degree, they moved back to the family homestead.<br />
<br />
But unlike many modern living arrangements - where the adult children move back to their parents' house - Lacy and Will actually moved into their own home on the family property.<br />
<br />
"There were two original homes on the property." Joy explained. "The original main house burned in a fire around 1902. The gate house was used as the main house for my family until 1960, when another home was constructed."<br />
<br />
Of course, Joy's story is anything but simple. A woman of around 65, she and Lacy greeted me one afternoon while visiting St. Louis. Joy dazzled me with her long salt and pepper hair swept back in a low ponytail, her glistening hazel eyes,and a natural tan that was absolutely infuriating. Joy looks better at her age than I do in my 30s - a statement that the blue-eyed, strawberry-blonde, curly-haired Lacy has echoed. But after hearing Lacy's stories about living on that land, I was dying to talk to Joy.<br />
<br />
"My parents had me when they were both 16." She began. "They never married, which was highly controversial in those days, but my father's parents were opposed to a marriage. My mother was from Mexico, so after she had me, she returned there and we lived with my grandmother. But growing up, my father would send us letters at least every month, which is how I learned to read in English."<br />
<br />
Joy explained that when she was 13, her mother died suddenly. Within a year, her father traveled to Mexico to bring her and her maternal grandmother back with him to Missouri. "It was a strange thing, and when I was a kid, I felt like I had lived two lives - one with my mother, another here." But her face lights up when she talks about her father and first living on the family estate.<br />
<br />
"I love the change of seasons. I love snow. I love having a fire in the fireplace. And the hard work never bothered me."<br />
<br />
Her grandparents - the ones who opposed her parents' marriage - had also passed away the same year her mother did, which Joy explained was likely why her father was able to collect her. "I'm sure it was bittersweet for him. I'm sure he thought it would be him, me, and my mother that would all be reunited. He was a good man, my father. He loved my mother a lot."<br />
<br />
The main house, which was completed in 1961, is the house Joy's father brought her home to. The house she finished out her childhood in, and the house she has lived in with her husband since their marriage in 1976.<br />
<br />
"My father passed away in '71, and my grandmother a few years prior. My aunt and uncle lived with us in the main house, and they've been like second parents to me." In fact, Joy's aunt and uncle still live with Joy and her husband. "It's a large house, and my uncle often told me there's always been family living here. Always. I know when I got married, my in-laws thought it was strange that we didn't find our own place, or that my aunt and uncle didn't move out. But it's a lot of land. It's a lot of responsibility. And my heart was invested in this place. I couldn't leave, and my husband liked having a quiet life outside of a busy city."<br />
<br />
The main house, in pictures, certainly doesn't look like anything from <i>Gone with the Wind</i>, or any other sweeping epic. It's a beautiful two-story (part ranch/part Victorian influence) with a porch that wraps around from the front to the back. Five bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, and 2 living rooms, but the main attraction (per Lacy) is the kitchen.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_TQdSc91gVhsGLUnPoTlnnl2M6APU3YzKSmmQDvfDLQimMfemoxNK8M6pHb8OK8lSGk1PGR8Z-W2sKC0cF_yWL71f-4OEccDWjPVhcJGQp9zvkBuDWFEUKsYq92rTASE9LqKmuzHh6A/s1600/w1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_TQdSc91gVhsGLUnPoTlnnl2M6APU3YzKSmmQDvfDLQimMfemoxNK8M6pHb8OK8lSGk1PGR8Z-W2sKC0cF_yWL71f-4OEccDWjPVhcJGQp9zvkBuDWFEUKsYq92rTASE9LqKmuzHh6A/s400/w1024.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"The kitchen is as large as a classroom. The dining table can seat a dozen. And the oven is the original from the 60s. I'm too intimidated to even touch it."<br />
<br />
"It's just an oven." Joy countered.<br />
<br />
"I wish you'd get a newer one."<br />
<br />
"If it ain't broke..."<br />
<br />
I liked observing the banter between Joy and Lacy. Stereo-typically, there's usually a flavor of tension between a daughter and mother-in-law, but Joy and Lacy genuinely interact like a typical mother/daughter would. Which is maybe why Lacy won't leave the property. Even after what she's experienced.<br />
<br />
"The gate house was originally like a guest house, right?"<br />
<br />
Joy nodded. "The property served as a gathering point for my father's massive extended family. He said that the rumor he always heard was his great-grandmother was so terrified of contracting foreign illnesses that she would insist that anyone traveling from outside of Missouri had to stay in the gate house for several days before coming into the main house, just in case they were carrying something." <br />
<br />
"How old is it?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"The gate house even predates the original home. I'm not 100% how old it is, but we think it was built between 1860 and 1870."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIEjNWtEMe9lheyJfPzaItGS4pd1jMYmXqQIROGF9pE_4mbxTsVxvQE8gjctC6_BpTTSHpJtSgfDXxMQ7IQgfVXupghDjV8jsq3jU3V95ynw1QXr-8_009xuNg6C9oyNUhCR2g1GGu_Y/s1600/Old%252520Matt%252527s%252520cabin_2_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIEjNWtEMe9lheyJfPzaItGS4pd1jMYmXqQIROGF9pE_4mbxTsVxvQE8gjctC6_BpTTSHpJtSgfDXxMQ7IQgfVXupghDjV8jsq3jU3V95ynw1QXr-8_009xuNg6C9oyNUhCR2g1GGu_Y/s400/Old%252520Matt%252527s%252520cabin_2_0.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The picture Joy hands me looks like a farmhouse to me - I liken it to the Ulysses Grant cabin (walking distance from my apartment) that has been preserved. But the gate house looks charming. It's one story with a large roof. It has a front door that resembles an English cottage - angular with stained glass at the top. There's a pebbled pathway from the front door to the driveway, and a flower garden sets off the front of the home.<br />
<br />
Joy's time in the main house has been idyllic - she has lived most of her life there, raised her only child there, and now continues living peacefully in the house her father took her home to after her mother died. It's her home; it's a piece of her. Every happy memory lives there.<br />
<br />
But for Lacy, her time at the gate house has been less idyllic and more of a challenge of wits and nerves. Lacy married Will in 2005. They have a 3-year-old son. Lacy is a 2nd grade teacher while Will helps his great-uncle and father with the land, and also sells insurance.<br />
<br />
Moving into the gate house was a perfect memory for Lacy and Will. "The idea of having our own house, and having our own yard...while everyone else we knew was living in a tiny apartment or in their parents' basement...we were incredibly blessed."<br />
<br />
It wasn't a palace though. "Joy warned us that we'd have to do a lot of work on it. When we moved in, there was one bathroom, and basically one bedroom. I wanted children, and so did Will, so we worked and saved money so that we could add another bathroom and put up drywall for a second bedroom."<br />
<br />
Four years ago, Lacy and Will started heavy remodeling. And for good reason: Lacy was pregnant.<br />
<br />
"I went from agreeing to Will that we'd do a little at a time to 'let's get it done NOW.'" Lacy explained. "I wanted a bedroom to put my baby in. I wanted a second bathroom since the bathroom we had only had a shower stall and no tub. And I wanted everything done before the baby came."<br />
<br />
With help from Joy and her husband, they were able to add another bathroom off of the kitchen, and also build an addition off the den at the back of the house.<br />
<br />
"I had unbelievable anxiety while the add-ons were happening. I can't explain it - everything made me jumpy. I think I convinced myself it was just being pregnant and wanting everything to be perfect."<br />
<br />
But halfway through the pregnancy, the feeling got worse. "I was painting the baby's bedroom. We had just found out we were having a boy. We told Will's parents, and they were just over the moon. Joy was baking a chocolate cake in the main house, which is all I wanted to eat. I was home alone, waiting for her to come by so we could eat it." She says with a laugh. "I had the radio on, and it suddenly turned off. The radio was just outside the door to the baby's room. So I went to check it out. It was plugged in. I just thought that the radio was old and flipped it back on. I went back to painting and didn't think much of it."<br />
<br />
Lacy stated that Joy came by with the cake, and the weather was nice enough that they ate it outside.<br />
<br />
"I didn't even mention the radio to Joy because, again, I thought it was just old. After we ate, I brought the dishes inside. I noticed the music wasn't on anymore. Something caught my eye in the hall, and straight down the hall was the new bedroom for the baby." Lacy smiled nervously, as most people do when they are about to tell you something that they think it utterly crazy. "In the doorway, just lying there on the floor, was the electrical plug for the radio." She rubbed her eyes for a moment and continued. "I know it was plugged in and playing when Joy came over with the cake initially. I know I didn't unplug it. But you can bet I never plugged it in again."<br />
<br />
"I knew something was wrong." Joy added. "Lacy's naturally very bubbly, and it had been a good day. And suddenly she just got very quiet. I didn't want to pry. And I remembered being pregnant with Will and having days where I was just petrified. I think I kind of wrote it off as that."<br />
<br />
Lacy confessed it was two months before she even said anything to Will. "Little things, I could ignore. Like occasional missing keys. Or the TV suddenly turning on. Because when you're pregnant, I swear, your brain is just not functioning."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifAQS8S55D-ndIr5pSBi9G3MUHy9F6h0ccK-a8kvKsJdfshpmeveLnHWb2TOVQJb9ke_ozKjnkPPotZzp6f2T_h-pxsUDwpFfb1aLtCzbXZTCr2dgBH_MOGTnTCDrCrd7BZIGn_fvV4o/s1600/foggy-545838_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifAQS8S55D-ndIr5pSBi9G3MUHy9F6h0ccK-a8kvKsJdfshpmeveLnHWb2TOVQJb9ke_ozKjnkPPotZzp6f2T_h-pxsUDwpFfb1aLtCzbXZTCr2dgBH_MOGTnTCDrCrd7BZIGn_fvV4o/s400/foggy-545838_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But one night, everything changed. And Lacy knew that it wasn't the pregnancy that was messing with her. <br />
<br />
"The house is like a little square. When you walk in, directly to the right is our bedroom. Directly in front of you is the hallway that leads to the den, which leads to the baby's room. To the left, the living room, and behind it, the kitchen. It's a very basic layout." Lacy says quietly. "I was about 2 months away from giving birth and was in that really intense nesting period where everything had to be perfect. Joy had given me a quilt for the baby's crib, along with some extra blankets and onesies. I was folding everything and putting things away. And suddenly, I felt like someone was standing right behind me. Like, the hair on my neck was on end, and I had that kind of nauseating feeling that if I turned around, I'd see something that I just didn't want to see." <br />
<br />
Lacy takes a swig of tea before continuing, and I can see Joy's face growing uncomfortable. "I called out to Will. I knew he was in bed and heard him getting out from under the covers and walking toward me. I didn't turn around until I heard his footsteps coming down the hall asking if I needed something. As soon as I turned around, there was a shadow figure behind him that just darted from the front door toward our bedroom. All I could do was scream and point, and Will took off down the hall, probably not even knowing what I was yelling about."<br />
<br />
"And that's when you told him about what you were experiencing?"<br />
<br />
She laughed, nervously. "Oh, I didn't mention the radio. But that night, I know I saw something dart across the hall. I know it. So I did tell him that I thought something was wrong in the house."<br />
<br />
"How did he react?"<br />
<br />
"He was concerned and worried," Joy chimed in. "Lacy's a very logical person. When Will came up to the house to talk to me about it initially, I could tell he wanted to write it off as Lacy just being extra emotional and tired. But we all know Lacy. She's a very patient woman. Very reasonable. Not someone who scares easily. And my gut told me that if she felt like something was off...maybe something was off."<br />
<br />
Lacy described the following weeks, and how Joy would come by in the evenings on days Will worked late (since that's when Lacy felt the most uncomfortable). But it wasn't long before Joy got her own taste of the gate house.<br />
<br />
"My son was out of town for his work, and Lacy's due date was coming up. Nothing strange had happened, but it's an eight-minute walk between my house and theirs, and I thought it best to just sit with Lacy. Just in case she went into labor and needed help."<br />
<br />
One particular evening - the day before her grandson was born - still haunts Joy. "Lacy was asleep, and I was watching TV in the living room. It was early fall, and the weather was cool enough that we had the windows open. I got up to refill my iced tea, and when I stepped inside the kitchen, there was a strange chill that rolled right over my feet.<br />
<br />
"I didn't have many lights on because Lacy was asleep. Just the hall light and a lamp in the living room. But when I felt that chill, I stepped out of that kitchen quickly. In the hall, toward the baby's room, I swear I could hear what sounded like humming. Very low, very soft humming. I thought it had to be Lacy, but she was in her bedroom. So I stepped down the hall toward it. As soon as my hand reached for the light-switch in that baby's room, it stopped. It just totally stopped."<br />
<br />
"I can't believe you didn't wake me up!" Lacy playfully nudged her. But I could see the look on Joy's face - the look of uncertainty.<br />
<br />
"It was a moment that only lasted seconds. We had all those windows open. I think at the time I just wanted to get you through the pregnancy, so I just tried to believe that the humming was just wind or something."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjra7-LG_Drz60ZxvGRQRFnOruAHX5gBtZwbfxJdExmPJaQbLl6oKVylmdmGIKITNxlHS9VJWIyIKBCCPuikxjjP-E4MQyfTZF9RJl5WqCrdnX4U-uPZT1vz7Gx1JVkjmiA-I8-IoTE3oc/s1600/moon-1404506_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjra7-LG_Drz60ZxvGRQRFnOruAHX5gBtZwbfxJdExmPJaQbLl6oKVylmdmGIKITNxlHS9VJWIyIKBCCPuikxjjP-E4MQyfTZF9RJl5WqCrdnX4U-uPZT1vz7Gx1JVkjmiA-I8-IoTE3oc/s400/moon-1404506_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Lacy gave birth to her son, Foster, the next day. And for a time, it seemed as though any activity that might have happened in the house was over.<br />
<br />
"It was really peaceful. When I was in the hospital, Will had a minister bless the house, which just made everyone feel better. Getting home, everything was just perfect. There was nothing strange. Nothing scary. Will and I had the baby in our room for the first couple months, then we moved him into the back bedroom. And truly, I had gotten to the point where I really did just think it had all been in my head."<br />
<br />
"Having this baby around was just wonderful." Joy added. "Lacy seemed like her old self again. Will looked happy. You know, I always wanted this huge family, and at the same time, nothing is sweeter than having this one little guy around to love."<br />
<br />
But the activity in the house started up again upon Foster's 1st birthday.<br />
<br />
"Will was out on the lake with his dad fishing. The baby had fallen asleep on my bed while I was folding clothes, so I put a bunch of pillows around him and went into the living room to finish folding clothes. It was such a normal day. And it was in the middle of the day." I watched Lacy fidget her hands before continuing. "It wasn't midnight. It was as bright and sunshiny as an afternoon can get in October. I went into the kitchen to get something to eat, and I heard Foster. He wasn't fussing or anything. He was just baby babbling. So I thought I'd grab some crackers real quick and grab him before he got out of his pillow fortress.<br />
<br />
"But then I heard something that sounded like singing coming from my bedroom. And it was almost like Foster was engaged with whatever - <i>whoever</i> - was singing to him. Like he was cooing. So I dropped my crackers and ran in there. The room was ice cold, but I didn't see anyone. I grabbed my baby and walked up to Joy's."<br />
<br />
"At this point, what did your husband and your father-in-law think?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Nobody had lived in the gate house since my grandparents had died." Joy said. "And my husband thought it was a good solution for Will and Lacy. To keep them nearby. And so they wouldn't start out with a massive amount of debt. I think he figured it would be a lot of hard work. But I doubt ghosts or spirits ever entered his mind. It didn't enter mine. I've lived here most of my life, and never did I encounter anything odd until Will and Lacy moved into the gate house."<br />
<br />
"Will has had a few things happen to him that shakes him up a little. Nothing directed at him or us, just little things. Like, we have a key rack that hangs on the wall next to the front door. One morning, his keys were gone. We looked for half an hour. Then he opened the door and found them dangling from one of the low branches of a tree. Just dangling there, in plain sight. That was pretty creepy for him."<br />
<br />
Joy nodded. "He mentioned that, and the bed incident."<br />
<br />
"I'll never forget that as long as I live."<br />
<br />
Lacy went on to describe, to date, the most terrifying experience she has endured. "About 6 months ago, Will had the stomach flu. It was pretty bad. So I had walked Foster up to Joy's that night because I didn't want him catching it. It was around 8 o'clock, and by the time I got Foster settled and walked home, it was probably close to 10 or so. <br />
<br />
"Even though it's just a few minutes of a walk, I always text Joy so she knows I'm home, and vice-versa. And I planned to grab a blanket out of the bedroom and just sleep in the den, outside of Foster's room. It was August, and it was hot. When I opened that front door, though, there was just a rush of really, really cold air. Not air from the a/c was on, but really chilly air, like the front door was opening to the refrigerator. I closed the door behind me and immediately I had goosebumps. Something drew my attention to the bedroom, so I stepped closer and took a look. There was a woman standing at the side of the bed, leaning over my husband. She had long, dark hair and wore a sort of prairie dress. I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe. And then, it was like something snapped me out of it. Because my husband was lying there sick, and something was hovering over him - and I had no idea what its intention was.<br />
<br />
"So I ran into the bedroom, jumped on top of my husband, and flipped the light-switch on by the bed. The woman was gone...she was just gone, and Will was looking at me like I had lost my mind, and why did I scare him like that. I told him what I saw, and he was absolutely horrified."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdxZhnsnM-lu5NwTWGI2Qdb8bc7S1BpIq4QgyBFH_nYN4q-4jQbFor-hUwM9YichkBzKAUEt48yHgma9O_Fzf24fBVnBc82OLW11T-UaDWSSIJZ0YqLzr8y0iJYoKzKHrypSdWSgchXs/s1600/spirit-1887125_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdxZhnsnM-lu5NwTWGI2Qdb8bc7S1BpIq4QgyBFH_nYN4q-4jQbFor-hUwM9YichkBzKAUEt48yHgma9O_Fzf24fBVnBc82OLW11T-UaDWSSIJZ0YqLzr8y0iJYoKzKHrypSdWSgchXs/s400/spirit-1887125_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"Meanwhile, I've got the baby thinking everything is quiet over there." Joy said, shaking her head.<br />
<br />
"Will didn't know I had taken Foster up to the main house. He didn't even know I wasn't home." Joy nodded at Lacy, and for a moment I wasn't sure what twist was coming. "Will swore that I was laying in bed next him, then he said at some point I got up to check if he still had a fever. He said it was so realistic that he could feel my hair on his face when I leaned over to touch his forehead." <br />
<br />
"That terrified me." Joy said. The very idea that a spirit had gotten<i> that</i> close to her son...it repulsed her. "I still hope part of what he thinks he experienced was just a dream...because he was so sick."<br />
<br />
That was 6 months ago. And in that time, nothing much has happened. "I went online and read an article where if you think you have a ghost, you have to confront it firmly and tell it to leave. Only sometimes they don't. So the article suggested confronting the ghost and stating where it is and is not welcome. And I did that. I went into every room- from Foster's to the bedroom to the bathrooms - and I told her not to go near my son or husband. That she was not welcome."<br />
<br />
"And do you think whatever was causing the activity is gone now?"<br />
<br />
I watched Joy and Lacy exchange a look before Lacy answered. "I think it knows not to come near Foster. But I don't think it's gone. I still get occasional blasts of chilly air, almost as if someone is just walking down the hall or something. I haven't seen her since that night. And I haven't heard any singing. But it's just a feeling. Yeah, I think she's still in the house."<br />
<br />
As for Joy, she's doing her own research. "There's so much we just don't know about our own ancestors. There's so much history to the land. But no one, not even my father, could really give any details other than names. But events. Maybe bad things that have happened here - that's what I want to find out. Maybe finding all that out will help identify what Lacy saw in the gate house. And why it's there."<br />
<br />
But life, despite the activity, goes on. Lacy still enjoys teaching. Every morning she takes Foster up to Joy's, where he spends the day until Lacy returns home. It's special time that Joy cherishes. And it's more great memories for the main house.<br />
<br />
The gate house, however, and if Lacy and Will continue living there, is still debatable.<br />
<br />
"We're not leaving, but we've definitely talked about building a new house." Lacy says. "I'm envious of Joy's memories, and being in the main house, you can feel the love. You can feel the happiness. I want that for my son. I want a home that doesn't have a ghost lurking around." She giggles. "So we'll see. But we won't leave the land, no. We'll stay."<br />
<br />
To date, Joy is working with a historian to map out the history of her family's land, including who owned it before them, and what events or tragedies may have brought any paranormal activity into her family's life today. Lacy and Will no longer sleep in their bedroom, but have turned the den into their master bedroom. Lacy says they keep the door to the old bedroom closed and locked. She wonders if the spirit has claimed that empty space, and maybe that is why nothing wild has happened lately. Regardless, she says they will not open the door again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiN0J3xcwElRhajm4Eqwtuxu1quEejWOUq2lmtV3nJs1gjfDrHFFCR8vYVppDc-mCNRAbKQqIbFrwqO9kjlNO4aaig703sbVsLFwbpeyk8uuMQk_mKBvYPT7kIwyBMk3VNR5QH-fpLrcs/s1600/key-hole-1190512_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiN0J3xcwElRhajm4Eqwtuxu1quEejWOUq2lmtV3nJs1gjfDrHFFCR8vYVppDc-mCNRAbKQqIbFrwqO9kjlNO4aaig703sbVsLFwbpeyk8uuMQk_mKBvYPT7kIwyBMk3VNR5QH-fpLrcs/s400/key-hole-1190512_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
**Heard of any good ghost stories? Give me a shout: scarygoodblog@gmail.com.**</div>
Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-31591676679665547122017-01-01T14:17:00.004-06:002017-01-01T14:17:49.845-06:00New Year; New HorrorsYeah, yeah, yeah. My social media is all a-gag with the "New Year, New Me" crap. And I have to say, do what you gotta do to reset that CHARGE button. You know, the button that enables you to shrug off the stress that's been building and building, and in it's place a hopeful attitude for positive changes. Or at least a better haircut.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Be it body, be it diet, be it humanitarian work, just do it. Just do you. And be happy! Meanwhile, I'll just be sitting behind a somewhat different desk (cause there's a new tablecloth now) and typing away my little ghost stories. Because that's how I roll.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i><b>On to New Horrors!</b></i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgez7WzOjARieG2sp0K2OB5tDKsIPp1nhnxk1kdRgUubD2iuzN7XqNrnm6qf0lF5srg87x5bHu8VDL3e59dGC9vQPnaKLEhNk1PS5DLiVpTRC_zxWKUTVXgUjRxaJ5-V0x4FoKiEFLMUh4/s1600/monster-1454286_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgez7WzOjARieG2sp0K2OB5tDKsIPp1nhnxk1kdRgUubD2iuzN7XqNrnm6qf0lF5srg87x5bHu8VDL3e59dGC9vQPnaKLEhNk1PS5DLiVpTRC_zxWKUTVXgUjRxaJ5-V0x4FoKiEFLMUh4/s320/monster-1454286_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There are loads of new horrors burning in my back pocket, like a constant jab in the ass...because the stories have just been sitting there. Not moving. And not finding a new home on a new page. What can I say? I'm a busy broad. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Luckily, <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">RED MOTHER DEAD</span></i></b> is still on my brain. And that will probably be my big 2017 release. And don't worry - it's gonna be a good one. Or, it's gonna be one that (hopefully) gives you nightmares for a few nights. Cause that's ALWAYS my Christmas wish...write something so ferocious that it gives people (and children who shouldn't be reading it) nightmares. FOREVER. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oh, and if you forgot all about <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">RED MOTHER DEAD</span></i></b>, here's the <a href="http://darkanddirtyorigins.blogspot.com/2016/03/cover-reveal-book-trailer-redmotherdead.html">damn book trailer</a>. Oh, and the cover <i>may</i> get another uplift before it's big, bad release too. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEMd-tojz4N8Apt7r-l0Z25bTHMsf2oU3laFWy9uj-QQosyc_UKEynLyfdip_yZjKuvlozQaHP9EcDSddTtv6owa1vYFAVQZHN8rB0IzGeGnGDMNBaQotga4YMzYl3-W1B6Z72K35P_Y/s1600/background-1759447_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEMd-tojz4N8Apt7r-l0Z25bTHMsf2oU3laFWy9uj-QQosyc_UKEynLyfdip_yZjKuvlozQaHP9EcDSddTtv6owa1vYFAVQZHN8rB0IzGeGnGDMNBaQotga4YMzYl3-W1B6Z72K35P_Y/s320/background-1759447_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oh, and for a full(er) synopsis of this vampire tale (YES, yes, it's an eerie vampire tale...but I do manage to keep the glitter down to a shout), Check out the <a href="http://darkanddirtyorigins.blogspot.com/2016/02/red-mother-dead-coming-soon.html?zx=b5ba900869097492">post from last Febs.</a> (I know, I know, recycling an old post...how tacky - I'll do better next time). And as always, thanks for following the shenanigans! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
+++++</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">#horror #2017 #paranormal #suspense #romance #vampires #books</span></div>
Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-56480410454621605392016-08-17T20:12:00.000-05:002017-02-12T09:14:16.416-06:00Summer Endeth/Horror ComethMy first series was the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B016QADGKS/ref=series_rw_dp_sw">Diary Trilogy</a> (ahem, available on Amazon now for <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B016QADGKS/ref=series_rw_dp_sw">99 cents each</a>). I love this series, as awful as that sounds coming from a writer. But when you write something that actually gives you the chills, well, it's usually something that translates to the page (or at least, you hope).<br />
<br />
The final installment,<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00XWFQZFO/ref=series_dp_rw_ca_3">Purgatory</a></span></i></b>, just got a face-lift, and I absolutely love it!!! Here's a sneak peek!<br />
<br />
If you haven't read any of the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B016QADGKS/ref=series_rw_dp_sw">Diary Trilogy Series</a>, why? :-D<br />
<br />
Here's an excerpt from <b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00XWFQZFO/ref=series_dp_rw_ca_3"><span style="font-size: large;">Purgatory</span></a></i></b> to nibble on...because Halloween is just around the corner. And if you're like me, there needs to be oodles upon oodles of scary movies and books.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Because there must be!</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcGYt3hakJCvxOY-8VVJOSKzBtjsyzZDsO3MOqLtHT4bCv_t7UYPo9Uk280L0eICbnWvWu0grlUX0Uq24AkqqvdiPYIeAk3WcZOLiP4K-s_dtAzwhfguRBdNR0AhmAeQA0HlCNmf_DsI/s1600/NEW+PURGATORY+COVER+JPEG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcGYt3hakJCvxOY-8VVJOSKzBtjsyzZDsO3MOqLtHT4bCv_t7UYPo9Uk280L0eICbnWvWu0grlUX0Uq24AkqqvdiPYIeAk3WcZOLiP4K-s_dtAzwhfguRBdNR0AhmAeQA0HlCNmf_DsI/s640/NEW+PURGATORY+COVER+JPEG.jpg" width="401" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Ex-cop Gregory Bowers has just stepped into the murky and secretive world of Merrick Hills. He has one duty: finding the survivors who fled the horrific St. Martin school in 1995. But in delving into the school’s last days, he finds himself slowly losing grip on reality...and welcoming the dreams of a woman he’s never met.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Investigator Vivian Sparrow has visited dark places before, but even she feels the intensity of the case. Aiding Bowers with his terrifying crusade isn’t easy—neither is ignoring the growing attraction between them.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">All bets are off when the duo inadvertently awakens a devil. The clock is ticking to find the lost survivors before a force from the past claims more victims.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Can Bowers stay rooted in reality with Sparrow...or will he fall into the clutches of a young nun’s diary? And can Vivian find a way to defeat the devil before he claims both of them?</span></b></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;"><u><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt:</span></u></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>7pm—<i>Holding
Unit, Merrick Hills Police Department</i><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>I had to wait an hour while a doctor and
nurse looked over the man’s leg. The bullet didn’t hit any arteries, and
entered and exited cleanly. He declined to be taken to a hospital for
observation, I was relieved to hear that since I knew Vivian was there with
Danny.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>After administering a shot of antibiotics,
the doctor and nurse left. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Okay, Bowers, you’re up. The man
wouldn’t give his name to anyone. We took his fingerprints and I’m having
Walker run them.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Thanks, Chief.” <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>I walked into the holding unit. The man
sat calmly on the cot. His injured leg was resting on top, while the other
dangled. He was rubbing his temples with his hands. I don’t know what happened
to the clothes he was wearing. He donned an orange jumpsuit now. And his beard
and hair had been trimmed back. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“How’s the leg?” I asked, sitting down
on the bench outside of the holding cell. He didn’t bother looking my way. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Hurts like hell.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“I can get you some pain medication.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“No pills. I’d rather feel what’s really
happening than dull the experience.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>He didn’t sound like a demon-possessed
ex-priest. He did sound gruff and tired, though. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“What’s your name?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“What’s yours?” He asked sharply.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Gregory Bowers. I’m a special
investigator.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Ha. A special investigator?”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“And what exactly are you investigating,
Special Investigator Gregory Bowers?”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Presently, that would be you.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Alright, go ahead.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“I already did—I asked for your name.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“I don’t have one anymore.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“You must have at one time.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“That bastard took my fingerprints. If
that’s so, I’m sure you’ll find something.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Wouldn’t it be easier just to tell me?”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>He turned his head slowly toward me and
grinned sheepishly. “Maybe the better question is <i>who</i> do you think I <i>am</i>?” <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“I haven’t come to that conclusion yet.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>“Oh, come on. They didn’t pin me down in
the woods because I was just passing through. They think I’m someone of interest.
So, the question is, who is it that I’m supposed to be?”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>I hesitated, then I decided it was best
to be truthful. “Do you know the name Jess Jaco?”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>~~~</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><i><u>Happy early Halloween! Stay tuned for more news! </u></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><i><u><br /></u></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><i><u>...And don't be shy about stocking up on some good, scary reads!</u></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGTNsvhHrhb4YmcfPM02nzyB_E8-TTg19nwCUR1WbZob1vBuo2d2sHhcc1z5AuEfMPOuZdYPbxj109Xoo6FdfY_2Weqf5w77T3gk7jxIt067h7j3iGfYlEo0HX8Tk4NSyWhNRwDzMFYM/s1600/RAPTURE+COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGTNsvhHrhb4YmcfPM02nzyB_E8-TTg19nwCUR1WbZob1vBuo2d2sHhcc1z5AuEfMPOuZdYPbxj109Xoo6FdfY_2Weqf5w77T3gk7jxIt067h7j3iGfYlEo0HX8Tk4NSyWhNRwDzMFYM/s200/RAPTURE+COVER.jpg" width="125" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvcq4lFjLKcGDlHjAIjNzNVoQ29WP-MHl5i7Hyrxy5pyx2IcorYgXaAGe0XsnxzDovb4QZvu7c6Dz7ag1WyBshNe0f9q4WP8e22yPWs9iISBr2mKZQMoSg6I8K0pP9H1BgsBjr3XxuS6M/s1600/GENESIS+BOOK+COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvcq4lFjLKcGDlHjAIjNzNVoQ29WP-MHl5i7Hyrxy5pyx2IcorYgXaAGe0XsnxzDovb4QZvu7c6Dz7ag1WyBshNe0f9q4WP8e22yPWs9iISBr2mKZQMoSg6I8K0pP9H1BgsBjr3XxuS6M/s200/GENESIS+BOOK+COVER.jpg" width="125" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VKySxD01OvacJcKQoYWEfqf0a8Arq44Lte_9b_4NF94oVkglTGfuwQ-Qt66v6HCmoI6P1S-dxIuexSX7vCuRFMU7MQwGS2fFRUN7qk29YN9lzYpxEqCv7vVu3HzcwKIVxH7ZlNv01Fs/s1600/NEW+PURGATORY+COVER+JPEG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VKySxD01OvacJcKQoYWEfqf0a8Arq44Lte_9b_4NF94oVkglTGfuwQ-Qt66v6HCmoI6P1S-dxIuexSX7vCuRFMU7MQwGS2fFRUN7qk29YN9lzYpxEqCv7vVu3HzcwKIVxH7ZlNv01Fs/s200/NEW+PURGATORY+COVER+JPEG.jpg" width="125" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-56814134652069051392016-07-06T21:04:00.006-05:002016-07-06T21:04:46.115-05:00The Allure of Romantic Horror<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZ446TbkHoFQEhrGnKb130BMdpBrdgI5AbarPnnL_SyLuN83WjoUJKVFuV4qxVAwYx12NC4nIy4bD5dbxR8KZK7fYQIOCESJ-Ol72U8ZanE2Oa63iw9tmZWVWfZN1jWHrhyphenhyphenFjc8qDh-A/s1600/eye-732880_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZ446TbkHoFQEhrGnKb130BMdpBrdgI5AbarPnnL_SyLuN83WjoUJKVFuV4qxVAwYx12NC4nIy4bD5dbxR8KZK7fYQIOCESJ-Ol72U8ZanE2Oa63iw9tmZWVWfZN1jWHrhyphenhyphenFjc8qDh-A/s320/eye-732880_1280.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Whether you're a vampire literary snob, or you just love any dark piece of romantic horror, you're no stranger to sultry scenes mixed with heart-pounding and nightmare wielding storylines.<br />
<br />
Personally, I love romantic horror -- and even horror erotica -- but it's a genre that gets an unfair label by writers and readers who don't understand it. I've heard everything from 'cheap smut' to 'evil perversion,' and some of these works were written by the likes of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dracula-Bram-Stoker/dp/1503261387/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1467856019&sr=1-1&keywords=bram+stoker">Bram Stoker</a>.<br />
<br />
Perversion -- or <u>beauty</u>-- is truly in the eye of the beholder.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmO7so85NU3XAodGiDAndSVJqGk6UBW9GRsIaQY-6uRvfpvNDSgzB0AlyyB6wwFtAU7ojPOgMBiQ157E4Cfq3D9Kmm0rLx2WDAl6wz3uVINHSP6Krvas9MCTz6BgfVzT65bn1UvW9CBF4/s1600/41%252BzRy5EjOL._UY250_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmO7so85NU3XAodGiDAndSVJqGk6UBW9GRsIaQY-6uRvfpvNDSgzB0AlyyB6wwFtAU7ojPOgMBiQ157E4Cfq3D9Kmm0rLx2WDAl6wz3uVINHSP6Krvas9MCTz6BgfVzT65bn1UvW9CBF4/s400/41%252BzRy5EjOL._UY250_.jpg" width="251" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I wrote <i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1467856352&sr=1-1&keywords=e.m.+bryant+rapture#navbar">Rapture</a></span></b></i> because I think the scariest stories make us question our deepest roots of faith. And if you're religious, there is nothing more frightening than facing evil that doesn't care what you believe in...and that doesn't respond to any religious conviction. So often we use religion as an order of protection, and as a safeguard against the unpredictability of life. So when it's turned so wickedly in seemingly innocent places (like a school), it exposes a very real vulnerability.<br />
<br />
Romantic horror, by proxy, highlights our greatest fears and greatest desires. A school possessed by a demon, a lover turned into another being, or a child abducted by something unholy -- whatever the extreme horror, it unleashes our own sense of doom. Our own sense of self and self-worth is suddenly doubted. And inhibitions that were always kept caged are released. Fear and seduction are mixed. There's an amazing rush of adrenaline that hits the reader during those storylines.<br />
<br />
Again, it's all in the eye of the beholder. If you're intrigued at all, though, there's some great news. The rebirth of the novella is in full swing, and everything from the classics to more modern works are up for grabs (and they're great for those who are time restricted).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJK_RHHicpcTl2CiopKOb641NfeHBbfUBYXZQO2HS0al0ovu2aHOg6XGbJiqzYuZW1aftIMsLNCI06PFW64XfWpxscc4kpeWcieFE8zFCx2SRWL2A3TtH0ris6mt4-yJn6HqkLqu7saP4/s1600/carmilla_book_cover_by_bizarropress-d4r99dy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJK_RHHicpcTl2CiopKOb641NfeHBbfUBYXZQO2HS0al0ovu2aHOg6XGbJiqzYuZW1aftIMsLNCI06PFW64XfWpxscc4kpeWcieFE8zFCx2SRWL2A3TtH0ris6mt4-yJn6HqkLqu7saP4/s400/carmilla_book_cover_by_bizarropress-d4r99dy.jpg" width="282" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
One of my favorites is <i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://carmilla./">Carmilla.</a></span></b></i> This may actually be the very first vampire thriller, and it's just so smooth and beautiful. It's not blatantly sexual like most modern books, but deeply sensual and romantic...with a dark twist. You can grab a copy <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Carmilla-J-Sheridan-Fanu-ebook/dp/B00QR7HVYI/ref=pd_sim_351_2?ie=UTF8&dpID=513sfp0ECqL&dpSrc=sims&preST=_OU01_AC_UL160_SR104%2C160_&psc=1&refRID=DZQPRQ8HKZ50XWDQBS2R#navbar">here</a>.<br />
<br />
Before the end of the year, I'll have a couple more projects out. In the meantime, feel free to check out <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1467856352&sr=1-1&keywords=e.m.+bryant+rapture#navbar"><b><i>Rapture</i></b> here (as well as an excerpt).</a> It has much more blatant sexual themes (reader beware).<br />
<br />
And maybe keep your lights on...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy HORROR reading!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
+++++</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*I do not own rights to graphic covers.*</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">#romantic #horror #erotica #haunted #vampire #wicked #classics #modern #horrorreading</span></div>
Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-13349319109352718172016-03-15T17:04:00.002-05:002016-03-15T17:04:33.213-05:00COVER REVEAL + BOOK TRAILER #REDMOTHERDEADSpring is upon us, which naturally means I've got horror in store for everyone...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>The plot:</b></u></span></div>
<i>Housekeeper Brit McKay is used to a life of tidiness and order. When widower Jack Brennan and his young son arrive at the estate, they bring with them a terrifying secret. As strange events immediately begin to plague the household, Brit begins to suspect that Jack and his son are being stalked by something evil. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The dreadful secret, once exposed, threatens everything Brit knows to be true. Because death should be final and absolute. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>...Except when the dead refuse to go in peace. </i><br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BTCHWj7e9M">RED MOTHER DEAD</a></span></b></i> will be out late spring/early summer, and I can't wait! Check out the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BTCHWj7e9M">Official Book Trailer</a> AND check out the cover!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI5Aj5102z6KTAOS2H4XN-cw3fO7urc1YOsF1JOhCIcS3qxRYF-XdO5Wace8HQtzK_3seR-xmzskru3pm1Zj8kY7Zt0EyJITFz7yCVGinzqF9sZMWv-m3AvkU4SQZmNqOtAZrU5AJgmg/s1600/RED+MOTHER+DEAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI5Aj5102z6KTAOS2H4XN-cw3fO7urc1YOsF1JOhCIcS3qxRYF-XdO5Wace8HQtzK_3seR-xmzskru3pm1Zj8kY7Zt0EyJITFz7yCVGinzqF9sZMWv-m3AvkU4SQZmNqOtAZrU5AJgmg/s640/RED+MOTHER+DEAD.jpg" width="432" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>STAY TUNED FOR RELEASE DETAILS!</u></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">#HORROR #SUSPENSE #VAMPIRE #ROMANCE #AMAZON</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-86864503043730307032016-02-24T13:01:00.006-06:002016-02-24T13:01:38.992-06:00RED MOTHER DEAD -- coming soon!!!Long ago, I toyed and teased about releasing a vampire story. <b>That was NOT a lie.</b> <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's finally getting polished up, and I can't wait to see what everyone thinks! The biggest question has been, no doubt, what the title is all about. I'm not quite one to romanticize vampire stories, though I can appreciate the #Twilight fan-base. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>But</i> this is a dark, somber, and suspenseful story (and maybe there's some romance thrown in there). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Red Mother Dead</b></span></i> is told through the eyes of young housekeeper Brit McKay. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmo2AX2JcgDNBFRMRx7wKcAPZCiiyDzfxeOVXNiTIl87fkkJxYMsD7qnUeyFO7cKmwXKFTTIRlhPTim3KsBsKbiiXPNzekWGnx2QQ23XC0rNir2wE8a28_5M_gWK_LQtr8dZZv0rwDI4c/s1600/eye-1162125_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmo2AX2JcgDNBFRMRx7wKcAPZCiiyDzfxeOVXNiTIl87fkkJxYMsD7qnUeyFO7cKmwXKFTTIRlhPTim3KsBsKbiiXPNzekWGnx2QQ23XC0rNir2wE8a28_5M_gWK_LQtr8dZZv0rwDI4c/s320/eye-1162125_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When her childhood crush Jack Brennan returns to Des Moines, a series of strange events begin to unfold. Jack's return is prompted by the peculiar murder of his wife -- details that not even Brit is immediately aware of. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But Jack wants his son Liam to have a fresh start, and moving into his Aunt Melanie's home seems like the new beginning they so desperately need. As Jack settles in, he confides in Brit that he doesn't quite feel like his wife is truly gone. Nightmares plague him, and young Liam insists that his mother visits him nightly.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiak3R04hJBrbnPX4Njo2o5yeBHv6E8H404Ps2gZJcTRpLNuEyVgZTnGQ7OlmvFzt1YYmjO0j20YZPs4hDkn_EhNR9WJr_O_J-ysfCc9JEfrhBPuXEY5dmmkr-FQ527Tf7J4x6iCTAJVyk/s1600/the-witch-539683_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiak3R04hJBrbnPX4Njo2o5yeBHv6E8H404Ps2gZJcTRpLNuEyVgZTnGQ7OlmvFzt1YYmjO0j20YZPs4hDkn_EhNR9WJr_O_J-ysfCc9JEfrhBPuXEY5dmmkr-FQ527Tf7J4x6iCTAJVyk/s400/the-witch-539683_1920.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Strange scratches appear on Liam's window, and Jack wakes up with mysterious wounds on his neck and chest. While Melanie insists that Jack and Liam are just trying to cope with the trauma of losing a loved one, Brit can't help but wonder if the small family truly isn't being terrorized by someone who was pronounced dead 3 years ago.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4K7mv97MG5VTt6-r8X5Oik3JKX87qz0PE9pC3LrBHK1vxvauVjx2S23XVmc86xQQKauPeqKCY9P8djQhTXyTwjxLvELmBv5Uv7u3C83jKrDlwXLdt5e3kxbIfqGeiZ15nyo9sh9c1glE/s1600/monster-773309_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4K7mv97MG5VTt6-r8X5Oik3JKX87qz0PE9pC3LrBHK1vxvauVjx2S23XVmc86xQQKauPeqKCY9P8djQhTXyTwjxLvELmBv5Uv7u3C83jKrDlwXLdt5e3kxbIfqGeiZ15nyo9sh9c1glE/s320/monster-773309_1920.jpg" width="260" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Fans of <b><i><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1456340080&sr=8-1&keywords=e.m.+bryant+rapture">#RAPTURE</a></span></i></b> will love the flow of the story, as well as the quick building suspense. <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">RED MOTHER DEAD</span></i></b> is a standalone book. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Stay tuned for details on its release!!! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">#horror #vampire #romance #suspense #shortella #2016 #RedMotherDead</span></div>
Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-12843531441069263652016-02-01T14:56:00.000-06:002016-02-01T14:56:03.035-06:00Valentine's Day Horrors (to read)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
No surprise, 2015 flew by. Suddenly it's 2016. Oprah's the new spokeswoman for Weight Watchers. And the X-Files has returned to Fox. It's a brave new world. And I'm happy to announce that 2016 will rocket out two new ghoulish projects.<br />
<br />
My first standalone novella, <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Agnes M</span></i></b>, will be out later in the spring. If you're a fan of lost love, ghosts, a don't-f***-with-me heroine, and some steamy, steamy scenes, you'll want to check out this one.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgePVziD9fPbD3inoz1G_nGRCasLhkV7GFOk-UFYlPwUZnjmLR1WbHrKEsGFm3ZR-VmOBBAnMaXGiueVS_deiYxoYqukOP2MWYnqMd8MPixdpB0xNcnWEvhbWzRW-syEYF6M9yO51io1s/s1600/portrait-1148171_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgePVziD9fPbD3inoz1G_nGRCasLhkV7GFOk-UFYlPwUZnjmLR1WbHrKEsGFm3ZR-VmOBBAnMaXGiueVS_deiYxoYqukOP2MWYnqMd8MPixdpB0xNcnWEvhbWzRW-syEYF6M9yO51io1s/s320/portrait-1148171_1920.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Here's the <b><i>teaser for <span style="font-size: large;">Agnes M:</span></i></b><br />
<br />
Nearly a decade after her millionaire husband goes missing, Agnes Moorehead is a woman on the edge. Her writing career does little to help keep the floundering Moorehead Estate going, and she's the sole guardian to her young brother-in-law, Liam.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBilbvd9VjHQgaAWuS4Bv9520jJfht0Saq27Qlsq-iH3iapvv0OBVbeZ_4V5RDKIvI1nlhUVcwgT9UuREkNnVL5GzDWTV3eeguTmyYT1mukhRZJOoJnfr7zlYkQtFgyN8xvH1QG0M7BmM/s1600/ruin-540829_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBilbvd9VjHQgaAWuS4Bv9520jJfht0Saq27Qlsq-iH3iapvv0OBVbeZ_4V5RDKIvI1nlhUVcwgT9UuREkNnVL5GzDWTV3eeguTmyYT1mukhRZJOoJnfr7zlYkQtFgyN8xvH1QG0M7BmM/s320/ruin-540829_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
With the estate falling into pieces, Agnes desperately seeks out otherworldly powers to help her -- and keep the lecherous banker off the grounds. Her wish seems to come true. A sudden windfall lands at her disposal. And, miracle beyond miracle, her missing husband returns.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyCP8DOCnhaqoXmiDMgVe2nfj36wwRu0t5zjfSqHfEXYpQmJZ3vFbtdPyclj0rHLOCmTTC4or6tUDgGSGlvUtsfwkMx6JmRkqazsgz3kuxhoLo9eO4hKnFoXhN9e6DcQfttFDPz3u0_H0/s1600/tunnel-899053_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyCP8DOCnhaqoXmiDMgVe2nfj36wwRu0t5zjfSqHfEXYpQmJZ3vFbtdPyclj0rHLOCmTTC4or6tUDgGSGlvUtsfwkMx6JmRkqazsgz3kuxhoLo9eO4hKnFoXhN9e6DcQfttFDPz3u0_H0/s320/tunnel-899053_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But were those otherworldly powers she summoned truly the miracle workers? For the man who returns <i>looks</i> like her husband...but there's something dark about him that troubles Agnes. In the midst of the night, there are whispers in the house. Whispers about Agnes. Whispers about keeping the house in order. And whispers about protecting the mysterious Moorehead legacy at all costs. Has Agnes sacrificed her body and soul all for a piece of property...or for the appetite of the house's true master?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
+++</div>
<br />
<br />
More details to come!<br />
<br />
In the meantime, for Valentine's Day this year I'm giving away <i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1454358982&sr=8-1&keywords=e.m.+bryant+rapture">RAPTURE</a></span></b></i> for free on Febs 11 & 12. Can't wait until then? You can download it for 99 cents now. #Cheers!<br />
<br />
<img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41%2BzRy5EjOL._SX312_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" /><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">#sexy #suspense #horror #kindle</span><br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-80077818956984236202015-12-04T13:29:00.000-06:002015-12-04T13:29:02.126-06:00It's December!No new posts since Halloween?! How embarrassing!<br />
<br />
So, I posted a long time ago about how my nasty little gem, <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">His Wrath, Her Honor</span></i></b>, will be revised and re-released. That was NOT a lie, I promise!<br />
<br />
I'm polishing the edges, groping the 'climax' of the story, and re-finishing a new cover.<br />
<br />
In addition, 2016 will have another dark horror/romance: <b><i>Agnes M</i></b>. (More on that later!)<br />
<br />
Until then, I'll revisit the ghost of <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">His Wrath, Her Honor</span></i></b>...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnuaLb3n6THNTRO4V2Vwk0H9XN8yluBn1q0_Vwdt2R1GIcWnFQbrwlXycJWQgAZ8hiXXNMecdUwGelKUckG5ZpA96ANIG5V8GmM8nebw9SkwjO7vd9IoT0P3tF3Bq0uFE9nCSajuouAdo/s1600/HWHH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnuaLb3n6THNTRO4V2Vwk0H9XN8yluBn1q0_Vwdt2R1GIcWnFQbrwlXycJWQgAZ8hiXXNMecdUwGelKUckG5ZpA96ANIG5V8GmM8nebw9SkwjO7vd9IoT0P3tF3Bq0uFE9nCSajuouAdo/s320/HWHH.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b><i>HWHH</i></b> is widely viewed as erotica...and I had a lot of hate mail about it when it was first released. But the story is really centered on Nick Banes, my main stud. The story is a little dark, but there's nothing paranormal about it (which is a huge difference compared to the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SU83GZA"><span style="font-size: large;">Diary Trilogy</span></a>).<br />
<br />
I stand by it, though the common complaint was that Simone (the object of Nick's affection) was too weak and victimized. But again, this is really Nick's story.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEght6gRIZ1rBrXg771oIR3uqzGWlpt4Y4yjw5kEKrAhefMP0Px_WsHfzQ9VfrMXxSJ37BxTCUaNCuce_Z7QEL4H3rrnSLTfZrKpiKBOzpzTK8_E70OJfX1nhSQNDocKwmAlN-Va2njw_ZU/s1600/man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEght6gRIZ1rBrXg771oIR3uqzGWlpt4Y4yjw5kEKrAhefMP0Px_WsHfzQ9VfrMXxSJ37BxTCUaNCuce_Z7QEL4H3rrnSLTfZrKpiKBOzpzTK8_E70OJfX1nhSQNDocKwmAlN-Va2njw_ZU/s320/man.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The plot hasn't changed much: Nick is the reckless, rich guy in a small town. He's angry that he's stuck in this small town, and he's rotten to most people he encounters (especially Simone). But the funny thing about even the meanest people is that when they start to care about someone else, perception can change.<i> They</i> can change.<br />
<br />
And that, in a nutshell, is this little story. And it's one my editor (the fabulous Stacy Doyle) and I love dearly.<br />
<br />
So, stay tuned, hang tight, and get ready for a whopping 99 cent read that's still sure to piss <i>someone </i>off. XOXO<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdpxZ0sAP8MT8wdhDpiaNqPE7Qe5gm2Kmbyk-qzkUqkZH75la-Wl3WQFY7MgFY1MVB9X7ipNuN3KQ8lR61c3CxAzUx6mSK2FNOBQh9TaZagGuZGGnGPdjkG8IDH_g7oT1QKgxDw2W-xU/s1600/sleeping+eve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdpxZ0sAP8MT8wdhDpiaNqPE7Qe5gm2Kmbyk-qzkUqkZH75la-Wl3WQFY7MgFY1MVB9X7ipNuN3KQ8lR61c3CxAzUx6mSK2FNOBQh9TaZagGuZGGnGPdjkG8IDH_g7oT1QKgxDw2W-xU/s320/sleeping+eve.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Blast from the past excerpt of <i>HWHH</i>!</b><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Well, as I told you, I do own most of this shit. Why not be part of the package? Make some fun with the town? Make some fun in general with the pious and virtuous ladies especially.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“God, you’re so vile.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Perhaps. But I never want for anything. I never need anyone to write a check for me.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“This isn’t for ME, or I’d tear it up now!”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Yes, yes. Respectable Simone. My little rain goddess.” He offered her his arm, then quickly disengaged seeing her wrathful look. “Amuse me, would you? How many of the town’s finest have sampled your fresh eagerness?”</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>*****</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Re-release info coming soon!!! If you're looking for some short, saucy (and terrifying) reads, check out my <a href="http://www.amazon.com/E.M.-Bryant/e/B00CGNCEU8/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1">Amazon page</a>!</span></div>
<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-69261328355673121352015-10-29T12:48:00.003-05:002015-10-29T12:48:22.091-05:00Halloween Giveaway!!! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGsYeAtESyrtOMDdGGo4lCAjKRRzAtxphiqZrzwWv7g1oEX38WpOxSrMEIFyuG-V5pcW45NMkAH1fynzya7nogyvL5C4nhV0iChJm8gg82X6APyaHJkA2eTOZl_KKClwDVF1sqFPqTzE/s1600/halloween-963123_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGsYeAtESyrtOMDdGGo4lCAjKRRzAtxphiqZrzwWv7g1oEX38WpOxSrMEIFyuG-V5pcW45NMkAH1fynzya7nogyvL5C4nhV0iChJm8gg82X6APyaHJkA2eTOZl_KKClwDVF1sqFPqTzE/s320/halloween-963123_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
To celebrate Halloween, I'm giving away <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J3ZW2A4"><span style="font-size: x-large;">#Genesis</span></a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XWFQZFO"><span style="font-size: x-large;">#Purgatory</span></a> for <span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>FREE</u></span> on <span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>10/31</u></b></span>!!!<br />
<br />
Mark your calendars!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Check out an excerpt from <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J3ZW2A4">Genesis</a></i> here:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRa9vZA_jwVx5UAELYRh2_5AorHs4tKyxtd7OftgwC2R6BNtuaaEcLsRD_vVG2Ix4UyGPE7Xnlzz7yBeRlJzfs98Mr3y1A1ADkkW27IsgEVOj3Tp2eIP2BDxkHf45m5lhDCe6pv797hc/s1600/GENESISCOVER15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRa9vZA_jwVx5UAELYRh2_5AorHs4tKyxtd7OftgwC2R6BNtuaaEcLsRD_vVG2Ix4UyGPE7Xnlzz7yBeRlJzfs98Mr3y1A1ADkkW27IsgEVOj3Tp2eIP2BDxkHf45m5lhDCe6pv797hc/s320/GENESISCOVER15.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
September 1, 1991<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My days are plagued in
fear. Mary glares at me at every pass. Donovan refuses to take meetings with
me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned from Pritchard
that the call that came in from “Derrick” originated from some prison in
Kansas. I pressed for more details, but Pritchard said Donovan didn’t seem to
take the matter seriously. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had my own concerns. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started walking the
corridors at night. I’m not completely sure why—but the voices don’t frighten
me anymore. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At least they hadn’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmugWx5WMfvKtuMqq3kG4u8c5g8Vn3U5wvq_4nfCK-QMBIhqo1HyF3I5hUJuy8z_cewbZRisDEIWXIk-FNchCfkYM7HwxzRnUD4aloMRvsHNaAkgw04Hs9jHcwAO4yEJHvNIu0JI7Qmc/s1600/urban-628269_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmugWx5WMfvKtuMqq3kG4u8c5g8Vn3U5wvq_4nfCK-QMBIhqo1HyF3I5hUJuy8z_cewbZRisDEIWXIk-FNchCfkYM7HwxzRnUD4aloMRvsHNaAkgw04Hs9jHcwAO4yEJHvNIu0JI7Qmc/s320/urban-628269_1280.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I walked to Neil’s room
again. I’m unsure why I have this incessant need to torture myself. His room is
empty. But I walked to it anyway. For a moment, I thought I heard movement on
the other side of his door. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pulled it open and
stepped inside, but it was completely still. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I longed to see him
tucked in that bed, sleeping soundly. On occasion, I used to check on him
during the night, making sure he was warm enough, and making sure he wasn’t
having a nightmare. So small and beautiful. He is perfection. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And as I stepped back
out of Neil’s empty room, it occurred that some other child may inherit this
room. And it will no longer carry his memory, but that of another’s. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Neil could be my child.
My friend. My idea of perfection, but living and breathing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I walked up toward the
next corridor. The one that gave me chills. That west corridor. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A gust of air greeted
me—chilly as if it were February and not September. An urgent whisper reached
my ears this time, though. Not the long and stretched out voices like before,
but an urgent, harsh whisper. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“CHARLIE!”</i> It hissed! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ran down the stairs
and out to the offices. I locked my door for the rest of the night. The land
was bad—that’s what Pritchard had said. It was a cursed land. Perhaps he was
right. Or perhaps this place was succeeding in breaking me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
+++</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrUw1UFIyH8ywyTvccONMkH_ZASxti2ZtbK64o8T_6Ey16TJUjFIc1hbUEHw8vOIHUex5UF9ukYoWxRvaC0KWokNzQGwfPWPqpvvJAIs4FMmHTKAbRFJ_r0ZV3evMNusPqd4JSpDjvjU/s1600/halloween-997596_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrUw1UFIyH8ywyTvccONMkH_ZASxti2ZtbK64o8T_6Ey16TJUjFIc1hbUEHw8vOIHUex5UF9ukYoWxRvaC0KWokNzQGwfPWPqpvvJAIs4FMmHTKAbRFJ_r0ZV3evMNusPqd4JSpDjvjU/s320/halloween-997596_1920.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Watch the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl0UOLFbtiw">trailer</a> for <b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XWFQZFO">Purgatory</a></i></b> here:</span><br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl0UOLFbtiw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl0UOLFbtiw</a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq0xkzEYAbNld_73uy6p26wi6Ae1aF28UfgT3w4uw5hl3wkxRPp1UC-2nFyvED3PNBogAx8aIaza5Iqc1JdGKhDyCT1z6KIXSe8WOYgOyjmaf6F9QYXtRJe42HRDuzwH9OF5hQwfJBnk/s1600/PURGATORYCOVER15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq0xkzEYAbNld_73uy6p26wi6Ae1aF28UfgT3w4uw5hl3wkxRPp1UC-2nFyvED3PNBogAx8aIaza5Iqc1JdGKhDyCT1z6KIXSe8WOYgOyjmaf6F9QYXtRJe42HRDuzwH9OF5hQwfJBnk/s320/PURGATORYCOVER15.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, ALL! GRAB YOUR FREE DOWNLOAD OF BOOKS 2 & 3 FOR THIS TRILOGY #FREE ON SATURDAY!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
+++</div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">#HALLOWEEN #AMAZON #CHILLER #HORROR #ROMANCE #MYSTERY #HAUNTEDSCHOOL #DIARYTRILOGY</span><br />
<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-58498068221780382842015-10-27T08:37:00.001-05:002016-02-23T16:46:23.494-06:00Halloween Extravaganza!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaavFd9K8FkKt7gZTLI_UfaRw49QhM4ixm_RvGnozuXlN1X5VBOE-Hbo3mfqOSQLdISn-UuhRr8nJer8U85JyGlfi_nsOA2QZ0_1_bRRAXhb7sqKneMbU1tcgYiNbG20-0SnTXIVkGNbU/s1600/halloween-974002_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaavFd9K8FkKt7gZTLI_UfaRw49QhM4ixm_RvGnozuXlN1X5VBOE-Hbo3mfqOSQLdISn-UuhRr8nJer8U85JyGlfi_nsOA2QZ0_1_bRRAXhb7sqKneMbU1tcgYiNbG20-0SnTXIVkGNbU/s400/halloween-974002_1920.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Halloween</span> has long been my favorite holiday. I love the magic, the darkness, the romance, and the mystery!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Every year, I try to celebrate this holiday a different way. Sometimes I've ghost hunted. Sometimes I've taken kids trick o' treating. Other times, I've partied. This year (maybe because I'm older or because the weather is getting chilly earlier), a Vincent Price movie marathon and some extra butter popcorn may be the remedy.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've asked a few fellow authors to offer up some fun Halloween reading, recipes, and stories... I hope you enjoy!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm off to do some early hunting for candy (and men)--but if you need a cheap thrill, <b><i><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SU83GZA">Rapture</a></span></i></b> is only 99 cents! It's spooky, sexy, and a great chiller! XO</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijVISQPrOsEWprip58QNRMQXYb_e8t1aUKiDGHE5WAiN6InwZDZQOPO6dohMU2GiIememlU8Xo2gf8A6zu_ayZiO249l7yVtPYFq7ibgGHeXt_fRgDzsGT5Eh5pzzqpEU-9VNLwhlRyO4/s1600/officialcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijVISQPrOsEWprip58QNRMQXYb_e8t1aUKiDGHE5WAiN6InwZDZQOPO6dohMU2GiIememlU8Xo2gf8A6zu_ayZiO249l7yVtPYFq7ibgGHeXt_fRgDzsGT5Eh5pzzqpEU-9VNLwhlRyO4/s320/officialcover.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://darkanddirtyorigins.blogspot.com/2015/04/rapture-memories.html?zx=f0a65cfc0675a956"><span style="font-size: x-small;">CLICK HERE FOR AN EXCERPT!</span></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Speaking of Halloween, check out this spooky tree that author <b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.adeledowns.com/">Adele Downs</a></span> </i></b>captured...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVhGJ4eA1nKsSTuSEX0rhVV21TvR-iX8UZ_9IMJ20K_K_xdpgvdFx_6L39g2n4GDRGxvVW9xFJr6XroP0VL_6sLAR2YCIkrylH5Q4lXTIV6pd6hU9hyphenhyphenY0v9BItDhtQrMfspj8rseIUh8/s1600/adelehalloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVhGJ4eA1nKsSTuSEX0rhVV21TvR-iX8UZ_9IMJ20K_K_xdpgvdFx_6L39g2n4GDRGxvVW9xFJr6XroP0VL_6sLAR2YCIkrylH5Q4lXTIV6pd6hU9hyphenhyphenY0v9BItDhtQrMfspj8rseIUh8/s320/adelehalloween.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<strong><span lang="EN">Adele Downs</span></strong><span lang="EN"> is the best-selling, award-winning author of more
than 20 romance titles, including those written under another pen name, and a
former journalist with hundreds of articles to her credit. When not writing in
her home office in rural Pennsylvania, she can be found reading a book on the
nearest beach, taking photographs, or riding in her convertible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span lang="EN">Check out Adele’s new contemporary paranormal
romance release LIP SERVICE. “Some ghosts won’t take ‘yes’ for an answer.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN">Connect with Adele here:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span lang="EN"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lip-Service-Adele-Downs-ebook/dp/B00WT1EA2W/"><span lang="EN">http://www.amazon.com/Lip-Service-Adele-Downs-ebook/dp/B00WT1EA2W/</span></a><span lang="EN"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span lang="EN">Visit Adele Downs at </span><a href="http://www.adeledowns.com/"><span lang="EN">www.adeledowns.com</span></a><span lang="EN"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Like Adele Downs on Facebook! <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authoradeledowns"><span style="color: blue;">https://www.facebook.com/authoradeledowns</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Follow @Adele_Downs on Twitter!
<a href="https://twitter.com/Adele_Downs"><span style="color: blue;">https://twitter.com/Adele_Downs</span></a><u><span style="color: blue;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Find Adele Downs’ Books on
Amazon! <span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Adele-Downs/e/B00G1RRS60">http://www.amazon.com/Adele-Downs/e/B00G1RRS60</a></span> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/marilyn.baxter.372"><b><i>Marilyn Baxter</i></b></a></span> has a fantastic recipe for creepy pumpkin bread! Here's a few words from the lady herself:</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">And as far as </span></span><span class="il" style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Halloween</span><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> goes, I miss it terribly! My kids are grown and I live in a condo complex with mostly older folks. So I don’t have trick or treaters and am not allowed to decorate for </span></span><span class="il" style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Halloween</span><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">. When my boys were small I’d have several jack-o-lanterns placed in the shrubbery and I’d play a tape of spooky music from a boom box that I’d sit in the window by the front porch. I’d dress up sometimes, and if I didn’t, I’d still wear a big black witch’s hat. And after I ended up one year with a huge bowl of candy none of us liked, I learned to buy the good stuff so if any was left over, at least we liked it. You know, </span>it's<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> probably a good thing that I don’t have trick or treaters now or I’d be consuming far too much of the good candy. ;-)<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">One of my favorite fall recipes is one I got from a magazine almost 40 years ago. It’s easy and tasty and fits right in with <span class="il">Halloween</span>!<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">PUMPKIN BREAD<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">3 cups Bisquick<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 cup granulated sugar<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 egg<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 16 oz. can of pumpkin<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 tsp. pumpkin pie spice<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">½ tsp. ground cloves<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">½ tsp. ground nutmeg<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 cup chopped nuts (optional)<u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl until well combined. Pour into a greased 9 x 5 x 3 loaf pan and bake at 350 degrees for 70 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out dry. Cool for 10 minutes and remove from the pan. This is great served warm with cream cheese or toasted with a bit of butter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Connect with Marilyn here:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.marilynbaxter.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0070c0;">www.marilynbaxter.com</span></a><u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22.95pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Facebook: <b style="color: #1155cc;"><span style="border: 1pt none; color: #0070c0; padding: 0in;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/marilyn.baxter.372" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>marilyn.baxter.372</a></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Twitter: @marilyn_baxter</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Street Team – Baxter’s Belles: <span style="color: #0070c0;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/992618844102430/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>groups/992618844102430/</a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Newsletter sign-up: <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0in;"> </span></b><b style="color: #1155cc;"><span style="border: 1pt none; color: #0070c0; padding: 0in;"><a href="http://bit.ly/1CUSAzo" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/1CUSAzo</a></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><b style="color: #1155cc;"><br /></b></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPxspYBmXsvmxD9BCEAqNbVP15KsdVNA5WMndrUTP3TdS5P7ssIjnFz7yplC9Oh4Uv1tkVMXEG1hLgqaHbB6Jvh2EG40ubONCigIWfYO2psP8QH12HaVmj9EgoEhgjle34-oSnCIBpGw/s1600/51MYWYZaSrL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPxspYBmXsvmxD9BCEAqNbVP15KsdVNA5WMndrUTP3TdS5P7ssIjnFz7yplC9Oh4Uv1tkVMXEG1hLgqaHbB6Jvh2EG40ubONCigIWfYO2psP8QH12HaVmj9EgoEhgjle34-oSnCIBpGw/s320/51MYWYZaSrL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><b style="color: #1155cc;"><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><b style="color: #1155cc;"><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Current release: Picture This -<span style="color: #0070c0;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Picture-This-Marilyn-Baxter/dp/1942886586/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/Picture-<wbr></wbr>This-Marilyn-Baxter/dp/<wbr></wbr>1942886586/</a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Past releases: Direct Deposit -<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Direct-Deposit-Marilyn-Baxter-ebook/dp/B00SGNT2LQ/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0070c0;">http://www.amazon.com/Direct-<wbr></wbr>Deposit-Marilyn-Baxter-ebook/<wbr></wbr>dp/B00SGNT2LQ/</span></a><u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> Better as a Memory --<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Better-as-Memory-Marilyn-Baxter-ebook/dp/B00KB4DLMO/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0070c0;">http://www.amazon.com/Better-<wbr></wbr>as-Memory-Marilyn-Baxter-<wbr></wbr>ebook/dp/B00KB4DLMO/</span></a><u></u><u></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Tea for Two --<span style="color: #0070c0;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Tea-Two-Marilyn-Baxter-ebook/dp/B00IAQXE1S/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/Tea-Two-<wbr></wbr>Marilyn-Baxter-ebook/dp/<wbr></wbr>B00IAQXE1S/</a></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<div style="color: #222222;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">***</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://katherine-mcintyre.com/"><b><i>Katherine McIntyre</i></b></a></span></span><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> takes us on a brief journey into the origin of Halloween...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Soul
Collectors and Samhain<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>With
Halloween fast approaching, I thought it’d be interesting to explore the roots
of the holiday. Most folks know about Samhain as where a lot of the traditions
we know today come from, but not all know about the pagan holiday. Samhain is
the celebration of the darker half of the year, as well as the day where souls
long gone were thought to revisit homes. Folks would feast and leave a place at
the table for their lost loved ones who would visit on that day. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Obviously
a lot of our traditions have sprung up from these old ones, even though they’ve
split Halloween and All Souls Day into October 31<sup>st</sup> and November 1<sup>st</sup>
respectively. What’s capturing my interest this year with All Souls Day is the
fact that I just got finished writing about soul collectors earlier in the year
for my Beyond Fairytales story, Soul Solution. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>These
days, there’s a lot of fear revolving around the idea of souls of the dead,
however it’s clear in the past, the concept was embraced and revered. What I
love about the old traditions is the acceptance of the cycle of life in all
aspects, including death. So when I began writing Soul Solution, I wanted to
acknowledge that cycle—that death isn’t a finite line but part of a larger
circle. Erik, the main character of Soul Solution is tormented by the process
of reaping souls, yet the act itself doesn’t warrant the guilt he bears. He
simply takes people at their time and delivers them to the next gate. The
heroine, Mina, ends up helping him see the other side a little more clearly and
bridges the loneliness of reaping souls in solitude. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>So
this year for Halloween, I’m hoping to go into the holiday with more of an open
view towards what the season represents. Not that I’m necessarily going to be
pulling out a chair at the dinner table any time soon for Aunt Susie’s spirit,
but the beliefs stemming from Samhain certainly help place ghostly guests in a
better light. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">An excerpt from Katherine's book <b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Solution-Beyond-Fairytales-Kathryn-McIntyre-ebook/dp/B012ESK5QE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1445888208&sr=8-1&keywords=soul+solution">Soul Solution</a></i></b> (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: center;">An
Adaptation of String of Pearls by Hans Christian Andersen):</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXS1ZzDZqZ4O7dvT5W9A88ZDtL26rt52cWocFIgRCyJL9AWhgeEfYzRgiAUXTLwXR2cNUJsHCHm0dJcXPAx6rJgLMkCj6jFtJFdUEZK1schiANeFGRkXslhSoXO8sRoh_OYCC13P6X_m4/s1600/KM_BeyondFairytales_SoulSolution_Med.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXS1ZzDZqZ4O7dvT5W9A88ZDtL26rt52cWocFIgRCyJL9AWhgeEfYzRgiAUXTLwXR2cNUJsHCHm0dJcXPAx6rJgLMkCj6jFtJFdUEZK1schiANeFGRkXslhSoXO8sRoh_OYCC13P6X_m4/s320/KM_BeyondFairytales_SoulSolution_Med.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>For Erik Anderson, the Copenhagen line is his curse.
He takes the train every night en route to collect souls. Like any lovelorn
fool, he bargained his own long ago, and now pays the price—a lifetime of
loneliness as a grim reaper. Stay
distant—that’s been his mantra and what keeps him sane. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Until Mina Castner drops into his life like a
whirlwind, one spilled drink leading to staying up until dawn with the woman.
He believed one night couldn’t hurt, but he sorely underestimated her
determination. Every encounter between them is a reprieve from the guilt of
reaping souls every night, but it can’t last. Even if she sparks long buried
feelings, and even if her sheer presence intoxicates him, he can’t let this
continue. For humans, his touch is poison, and if he slips up, it could cost
her life. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
whole date thing had been a bad idea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She
rounded a corner, stepping onto the street where the club was located. The Hive
stood out even from a couple of blocks away. Its glass-and-steel exterior was
slick, and lights flashed on different floors, granting glimpses of the chaos
inside. Like other top-notch places, this one didn’t advertise—no sign out
front since the building was imposing enough. A strain of music filtered from
it, but the noise was muted—she’d bet the inside was the opposite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She
wrinkled her nose as she got closer. <i>Great.
A line.</i> <i>My perfect Saturday
night—waiting in a line to get into a loud room with blinding lights, blaring
music, and sweaty guys. No thanks.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One
glance at the people waiting to get inside and she wanted to turn around. Caked
on makeup, glittery dresses, and overly gelled hair dominated the crowd, all
part of a scene in which she didn’t fit. A slight breeze carried the cloud of
perfume teeming around the line her way. She fought not to gag.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Strands
of her auburn-dyed hair kept slipping from her bun and trailing along her
shoulders. <i>Why did I even bother doing my
hair? Once I get inside, the sheer heat from the place will frizz it out</i>.
Mina sighed, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. <i>This is why I don’t date</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Up
ahead, the bouncers were either admitting people or turning them away at the
door. She joined the end of the line, checking her phone while she waited. He
was already inside. Joy. Too late to suggest a detour to a coffee shop instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
man tall enough to stand out approached the entrance. With hoops in his
eyebrows, ears, and, chances were, elsewhere, too, he didn’t mesh with the rest
of the crowd. Nor was he wearing a polo or suit, the type of club attire the
rest of these guys wore. Instead, his sleeveless, fitted hoodie made an
impression of its own as did his tailored black pants, which were accented by
his leather stompers. Even in a sack, the man would’ve looked good. When the
guy opened the club door, the bouncers didn’t even give him a second glance. <i>Seems they know their regulars</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She
hoped her date stacked up. The line moved forward a couple of paces, and she
crossed her arms over her chest. This was going to be a long night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Author
Links:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Website:
</span><a href="http://www.katherine-mcintyre.com/"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">http://www.katherine-mcintyre.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tumblr:
</span><a href="http://www.booksteacoffee.tumblr.com/"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">http://www.booksteacoffee.tumblr.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Pinterest:
</span><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/kmcintyremt"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">http://www.pinterest.com/kmcintyremt</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Facebook:
</span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/kmcintyreauthor"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">http://www.facebook.com/kmcintyreauthor</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Twitter:
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.twitter.com/pixierants">http://www.twitter.com/pixierants</a></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">How about a fun recipe from </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.veronicabale.com/"><b><i>Veronica Bale!!!</i></b></a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrR9XaCUteGtU7DGWgQac5FfSC8pk8zegZcobVNqTrlIvzhyphenhyphen2f7r9HLeHwpcmNfKveXnSyXRovQQ-Hi_ULZWnCPIuLajWfOSfWDk5eiA5cAPj2dbxFzV238OVOJQlsXiZqbtpm93M_2Q/s1600/A+Noble+Deception_tent-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrR9XaCUteGtU7DGWgQac5FfSC8pk8zegZcobVNqTrlIvzhyphenhyphen2f7r9HLeHwpcmNfKveXnSyXRovQQ-Hi_ULZWnCPIuLajWfOSfWDk5eiA5cAPj2dbxFzV238OVOJQlsXiZqbtpm93M_2Q/s320/A+Noble+Deception_tent-2.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Anyone who knows me knows I like to make
homemade and from-scratch meals as much as possible. I am of the firm belief
that when people come over for a meal, they appreciate being served wonderful
dishes that they can’t pick up at the grocery store themselves. I have all
kinds of from-scratch recipes, but one of my favourites is my from-scratch
pumpkin pie. I roast pie pumpkins myself, and add in my own blend of pumpkin
pie spice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I’m also a bit of a scavenger. In
addition to salvaging beautiful crab apples from the abandoned farms in my area
for next year’s strawberry jam filler (please don’t judge me…), you might find
me darting to and from my neighbours’ driveways on the morning of November 1<sup>st</sup>,
snatching up all the perfect pie pumpkins that have been tossed to the curb for
the garbage man after Halloween night (you might not find me, though … I’m a
bit of a pumpkin-snatching ninja).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Rescuing lovely pie pumpkins may not be
your thing, but you should definitely try my from-scratch pumpkin pie recipe.
It’s a tiny wee bit of extra work, but it’s well worth it. The texture of the
pumpkin, the colour, and the blend of spices are all to die for! Here’s what I
do:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Cut a washed, dirt-free pie or sugar
pumpkin in half, and scoop out the guts and seeds. Place cut-side down on a
baking sheet lined with greased aluminum foil (shiny side up). Bake at 350
degrees Celsius (for my American friends, that works out to about 650 degrees
Fahrenheit, I think?) for about 45 minutes, or until the skin of the pumpkin can
be pierced with a fork. Remove from the oven, and once your pumpkin is cool
enough to handle, scoop out the meat right down to the skin, which, funny
enough, will look like a deflated basketball. The bottom of your pumpkin meat
where it was touching the foil will be caramelized—this is okay; it adds a
wonderfully rich flavour and deep brown colour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">For the pie filling: in a large bowl,
mix 3 cups of your roasted pumpkin meat with 1/2 cup white, granulated sugar,
1/3 cup firmly packed brown sugar (the darker the better), 4 eggs, 1 and 1/2
cup evaporated milk, 1 and 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon, 1 tsp each of ground cloves
and ground allspice, 1/2 tsp each of ground ginger, ground nutmeg, salt and
vanilla extract. Stick an immersion blender in and blend the heck out of it
until it’s all runny and smooth. Pour the mix into an unbaked pie shell (this
is fantastic for deep dish ones, by the way). Bake at 425 degrees Celsius (or
your Fahrenheit conversion temperature) for 15 minutes, then at 350 degrees
Celsius for another 45 to 60 minutes, depending on how deep your pie is. If you
can stick a knife in the centre and it comes away clean, it’s done. Remove, let
cool, and enjoy! And a final tip for this recipe, you can freeze any leftover
baked pumpkin, and you can freeze the blended pie mix, if you have enough left
over! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I usually sign off with “happy reading,”
but in this case, I think it should be “happy eating!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://www.veronicabale.com/">Veronica Bale</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Author of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Noble-Deception-Veronica-Bale-ebook/dp/B014INFOGO/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1445952793&sr=8-1-fkmr0">A Noble Deception</a>, Book 1 of
the Douglas Clan series, from Boroughs Publishing Group<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://www.veronicabale.com/">www.veronicabale.com</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
***</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Catching up with <span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i><u><a href="http://paulamillhouse.com/">Paula Millhouse</a></u></i></b></span>, she's doling out an excerpt from her book, Chalvaren Rising!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Excerpt from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Chalvaren-Rising-Kingdom-Book-ebook/dp/B0157RBDHO/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1445952454&sr=8-1">Chalvaren Rising</a>: The
Dragonstone has returned<o:p></o:p></span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></i></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdwXc2vjg8GuxcdS-pNKOPqWgHzuTgoipqZgS_nSMy6BwSbPuww9XDEz-K-IhwS9hBfe3pwC-RhouI5aBCDC4dYSghG5Pb_OENRjUSriQOTNzrj5LUNFTmDWMo8dGcAuYDEh4Rbe1bFw/s1600/Add+some+magic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdwXc2vjg8GuxcdS-pNKOPqWgHzuTgoipqZgS_nSMy6BwSbPuww9XDEz-K-IhwS9hBfe3pwC-RhouI5aBCDC4dYSghG5Pb_OENRjUSriQOTNzrj5LUNFTmDWMo8dGcAuYDEh4Rbe1bFw/s320/Add+some+magic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Behind them, in the interrogation
chamber the wizard Lucan was dealing with another specter that had burst free
from the captive elf. It loomed twice as large as the last, but Mia leapt
forward to engage. She thrust her palms in front of her, opening her hands, and
the blast of her purple aura sent it sprawling. It rose a moment later,
however, fluttering toward her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Instinct told her to run. Mia
refused. “You will not take anyone else, devil.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Dragonstone warmed on her
chest, bursting alight with ghostfire that she directed toward the specter. Queen
Elissabet’s magic joined hers, and the combined light energy seared the shadowy
creature into oblivion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“More?” Mia yelled, hungry now
for the fight. The queen had said there were more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She whipped around to see another
shadow wraith leap from Arden’s body, this one three times bigger than the
last. Lucan struggled to contain the demon within his silvery aura, but the
damned thing filled the room with shrieks and stinking wings of ashy soot,
blackening everything and threatening to suffocate everyone. Mia sucked in a
tight breath as Lucan threw a bolt of silver magic at it, and Elissabet flooded
the chamber with orange. The wraith knocked Elissabet to the ground. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">His silver aura blasting wide, Lucan
shouted, “<i>Lux Chalvaren disperdens</i>.
Show me the light of Chalvaren!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">From her place on the floor, Elissabet
screamed out words of a different spell. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mia stood dumbfounded, frozen in
place, enveloped by terror. Her lips moved and she repeated the words she heard
the queen speak. First just a whisper, she increased her volume to a fevered
pitch. “Light of Chalvaren. Light of Chalvaren. <i>Lux in nos Chalvaren.</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">A horrible sound caught Mia’s
attention, and her feet shuffled backward despite her resolve. The sound came
from Elissabet, not another spell but a scream of anguish. At the same time the
massive black wraith shifted and struck out at Kort and King Lachlan, pinning
them to the far wall. The two men clutched their throats, gasping for air as the
shadow wraith forced them to their knees. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Mia,” Kort gasped, using the
last of his breath. “Flee!” He collapsed, and the shadow wraith rose above him,
intent upon something even more dire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, <i>hell</i> no!” Overcome by fury and desperation, Mia grasped the Dragonstone.
Ghostfire poured forth, and Mia stalked forward toward the wraith, toward the
man she loved and toward his father, both men collapsed before the umbral
abomination. Arms wide, she directed the multicolored ghostfire onto the
snapping, howling beast. It was all she could think to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Behind her, Queen Elissabet
lunged to her feet. Mia saw orange magic join her own, and she felt her skin
warm with Kort’s mother’s gentle aura. It was the boost she needed, and she kept
advancing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“<i>Murmur cessant!</i>” This from Lucan, whose angry words of defiance
boomed behind Mia, supporting both women with flashes of mercurial silver that
erupted from his fingertips to surround them, Kort and the king.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mia’s ghostfire now fully
surrounded the shadow wraith, and it turned away from Kort and Lachlan. Mia
leaned forward and growled, “Come on. Come and get me!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It surged at her, its jagged,
feathery wings reeking of purulent death. Crow-like, the shadow wraith
screamed, its voice gravelly and deafening, but Mia kept it the target of her
ghostfire. The wraith bent, let out one final agonized scream, and collapsed
into a billion black molecules of oblivion. Behind them all, Arden Demar
collapsed back onto his table with a clatter of chains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The ghostfire receded back into
the Dragonstone with an affirmative snap, and Mia rushed to Kort. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Are you okay? Kort, look at me!”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">God, she’d never forgive herself
if he was hurt. She reached for his head. Cradling it in her lap, she searched
his body for injuries. Queen Elissabet rushed to kneel beside her, tending to
Lachlan, slapping his cheeks, speaking to him, trying to rouse him and crying
out his name. But Mia’s eyes were only for her prince. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Look at me, Kort!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">He groaned, and his eyes
fluttered open. In that second Mia knew she’d never be able to live without
him. She knew in that exact moment she loved Kort Elias, and that thought
terrified her more than the wraith. Still, she leaned forward and brushed his
lips with hers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Kort slowly embraced her. His
lips found hers and took them with authority. She kissed him back with all the
fierceness of a love nearly lost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">THANKS AGAIN TO ALL MY FAVORITE AUTHORS WHO CONTRIBUTED!!! MUCH LOVE!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE! XOXO</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "bookman old style" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" class="cf gJ" style="background-color: white; border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; margin-top: 0px; width: auto;"><tbody></tbody></table>
</div>
</div>
Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-67071932315309525832015-10-07T15:39:00.004-05:002015-10-07T15:39:08.339-05:00Haunted Objects: Pt 2 The Ouija Board<a href="http://dictionary.com/">Dictionary.com</a> defines a Ouija board as simply a board with a planchette. Of course, horror movies and books across the world sometimes associate these boards as symbols of evil. Hasbro labels it as a board game. You can find Ouija boards in toy aisles all over the country.<br />
<br />
I've personally never had a dark encounter with a Ouija board. I don't keep one around the house, either. In speaking to Denise, she told me pretty plainly that she doesn't really give Ouija boards much weight in terms of good or evil. It's largely people, she said, that can dictate why an object can change from a simple definition of a board game to something else entirely.<br />
<br />
Though, by her own admission, she has only encountered this once.<br />
<br />
And so begins Part 2 of our interview. If you missed Part 1, click <a href="http://darkanddirtyorigins.blogspot.com/2015/08/haunted-objects-interview-pt-1.html">HERE</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSf6jYen5RgHCxzqU5WGK3wd7DP5L417rm-pAQGREzlq_lFKBmxyBsSG054dFArfSBAlwO5ZIBI1DfLB4-ZW0dM5QBGT24e62p1PCPbpwPfUh6kFKpVVrbMEYCihyphenhyphenfzpxtcclfYWfHRls/s1600/house-487995_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSf6jYen5RgHCxzqU5WGK3wd7DP5L417rm-pAQGREzlq_lFKBmxyBsSG054dFArfSBAlwO5ZIBI1DfLB4-ZW0dM5QBGT24e62p1PCPbpwPfUh6kFKpVVrbMEYCihyphenhyphenfzpxtcclfYWfHRls/s320/house-487995_640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
E.M.: I want to talk about the not so happy endings--the darker stuff. Can you share something specifically that didn't end as neatly as the music box?<br />
<br />
Denise: Let me just start off by saying that I'm not someone who will go into a home, look at an object, and automatically sign off with "yes, it's haunted. Yes, it's demonic. Yes, everything that makes you feel safe is over now." Very, very rarely does even a seasoned investigator come across something that can't be remedied to an extent. That being said, I've had two really negative encounters that have always stayed with me. And even now, after so many years, I keep those incidents close. It's not that I expect something bad to happen when I'm on a new case, but I do keep in mind that it has happened before, and to not let my guard down.<br />
<br />
E.M.: You and I spoke in depth before about Ouija boards and if they should be considered a toy or a tool, etc. I think it's important to state that you are NOT a proponent of having Ouija boards taken off the shelves at places like Target, and also your reasoning behind it. Can we start there?<br />
<br />
Denise: Sure. I simplify this into two concepts: people and intent. There are people in the world who are wonderful and loving and full of optimism. And then there are other people who have ill intentions. Or, there are vulnerable people who get lost and seek out answers in very dark places. They're drawn to something that may seem otherworldly and magical, but that something is actually very, very bad. A Ouija board, in my opinion, is not dangerous if you aren't dangerous and if your head is in a healthy place. If you aren't abusing it or utilizing it outside of its purpose, then it's fine. It's all about the intent. A Ouija board is just a piece of cardboard with letters and numbers on it. Someone with a bad intention (and in the right place at the wrong time) can change that. Or some <i>thing</i> with a bad intention can change that. Does it happen all the time? Absolutely not. In fact, you probably have a better chance of being struck by lightning multiple times vs. having something horrendous happen because you used a Ouija board. But, that I *know* it happened is how I form my opinion. So no, I don't write to Hasbro about these Ouija boards and beg them to stop producing them. Do I own one? No. Would I buy one? No. But again, to be clear, these are predominantly harmless. We have to consider the intent and the people. <br />
<br />
E.M.: So, 6 years ago you were in Arkansas on a case. <br />
<br />
Denise: Yep, a tiny town about 2 hours from Little Rock. Lots of old homes, but well maintained. The subdivision, I recall, had pristine white picket fences around several houses. I remember thinking how nuts it was that a case this dark was seemingly coming out of Mayberry.<br />
<br />
E.M.: What did you know about the case?<br />
<br />
Denise: The family had been essentially destroyed. That's what I knew. The woman's name was Linda. She lived alone in her house after she divorced her husband. They had one son who died of a drug overdose 9 months prior. Linda's younger sister, Rosa, had moved in semi-temporarily because Linda wasn't handling the death very well. So the living situation, at least from what I gathered, had been very somber for nearly a year.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITY_y-s0rM2Nshu4srKYWic3RvxtjcqTkqjONANzFyAoCIG6sKZPp3_3YKd0RcW6lXRmBKmcP5VVwdSk5G-Inkt57t5tUG7qlI5GVAHI2b8QFi_7ekA0YYEWDb9w5GIeIT1ziYi_fJ9g/s1600/candle-794312_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITY_y-s0rM2Nshu4srKYWic3RvxtjcqTkqjONANzFyAoCIG6sKZPp3_3YKd0RcW6lXRmBKmcP5VVwdSk5G-Inkt57t5tUG7qlI5GVAHI2b8QFi_7ekA0YYEWDb9w5GIeIT1ziYi_fJ9g/s320/candle-794312_1280.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
E.M.: What experiences were they having?<br />
<br />
Denise: Linda claimed she was seeing an apparition of a man, or at least a dark shadow of a man. At first, she'd see him standing at the end of the hallway. She'd see him for only a moment, and then he'd vanish. The way the house was set up--it was a pretty small ranch. The front door opened into a living room. Behind it, a kitchen. Directly to the left, a hallway that led to the bedrooms. When she'd spot the apparition, she'd be facing the end of the hallway from the living room. In the beginning, she wrote it off as her sanity diminishing. But over time, she noticed the apparition seemed to be getting closer to her.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Closer?<br />
<br />
Denise: Yes, Physically, it was getting closer to her. In the beginning, it was at the end of the hall. After a couple months, it was halfway down the hall. At that time, Linda claimed she could make out red eyes. They were staring at her. She was staring back. Then it would dissipate.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Was the sister living there when this started?<br />
<br />
Denise: Rosa moved in after Linda confessed she was seeing an entity. I think Rosa thought it was either all in Linda's head, or maybe it was Linda's son trying to say a final goodbye. So when Rosa moved in, she brought a Ouija board.<br />
<br />
E.M.: And the intention was to reach out to the entity?<br />
<br />
Denise: Yes, I think Rosa thought one way or another, it might give Linda some peace. So they did a couple seances with the board. Linda said nothing spectacular happened. The board was left in Rosa's room, and the two women left for a long weekend. When they returned is when the fun started.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So, beyond just the entity in the hall?<br />
<br />
Denise: Rosa claimed there were scratch marks on the board upon their return, but she initially wrote that off. The house was old. At one time, Linda explained they had had mice; thus, the scratches could have come from a rodent. So she called the exterminator, who came out and reported there were no signs of any new infestations. But the night after the exterminator came, the toilet began flushing by itself.<br />
<br />
E.M.: And it wasn't a plumbing issue?<br />
<br />
Denise: According to Rosa, she woke up one night thinking she was hearing whispering. She inspected the house and found it was empty, except for Linda and herself. She was walking past the bathroom door and suddenly the handle on the toilet turned and the toilet flushed.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Wow. And that was just the tip of the iceberg?<br />
<br />
Denise: The nightly whispering continued. So Rosa continued utilizing the Ouija board. Her last session was particularly disturbing. She and Linda were reaching out to the entity that they believed was in the house. They no longer believed it was Linda's son, but they 'named' the spirit Henry. Here's where the problem escalated. Rosa tried to make a deal with Henry. She said if he needed to stay in the house, they would let him. But he was not allowed to frighten them.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Wait, wait. wait, wait. So she invited Henry to stay?<br />
<br />
Denise: I think her heart was in the right place, but by inviting the entity to stay, she put out the welcome mat for trouble.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVb-Yqp9Bz89ifm8pxLlCIGjlpkY2C8vdB5MbnRxLQl00lWgd5N6s692ILPfRI9eaeHTW9OFINpXf5XXa0L619xuPVy1C3HcOhszJGoz9f3p65pd5geNvkD5jvYjG67ST69i9QZw5Rjvo/s1600/death-164761_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVb-Yqp9Bz89ifm8pxLlCIGjlpkY2C8vdB5MbnRxLQl00lWgd5N6s692ILPfRI9eaeHTW9OFINpXf5XXa0L619xuPVy1C3HcOhszJGoz9f3p65pd5geNvkD5jvYjG67ST69i9QZw5Rjvo/s320/death-164761_1280.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
E.M.: I always question people who invite things like this to stay. I understand she was trying to make a deal, but...<br />
<br />
Denise: I believe they didn't see the true harm in Henry. I think likely they saw him as a surrogate for Linda's deceased son. But after the session ended, things began to take a darker turn. A week after this deal was made, Rosa said she would wake up and find Linda sitting in a room in front of the Ouija board. She wasn't coherent or responsive, but was sitting in front of it, completely still. Rosa caught her doing this 2 or 3 times in a row and finally asked what in the world she was doing.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Did Linda realize she was doing it?<br />
<br />
Denise: No. According to Rosa, Linda had no idea how she was getting out of bed, much less why she'd find herself waking up in front of the Ouija board. <br />
<br />
E.M.: Was that the incident that made Linda look for help?<br />
<br />
Denise: They had a really, really bad night. Linda didn't want to talk about it at first, but I got the indication that it -- the entity -- attacked her physically. Linda contacted me about 48 hours after this incident, and there was definitely a sense of urgency.<br />
<br />
E.M.: When you arrived, besides the cozy neighborhood, did anything stand out to you?<br />
<br />
Denise: No, the house seemed very normal. But when I encountered the Ouija board, it was definitely strange. I mean, psychologically I have to clear my head because I don't want any residual fear or stress from the homeowner rubbing off on me. It's my job to be logical and not emote to anything I encounter. And truthfully, I had never encountered any object that immediately affected me.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Were you afraid of the Ouija board?<br />
<br />
Denise: I think my thought process was to remove it, but at the same time, I didn't even want it in my car. So instead, I had to question Linda and Rosa about exactly what they had been doing. What I learned was the board was still active.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Can you clarify <i>active</i>?<br />
<br />
Denise: Of course. Active means they made contact with a spirit and never closed the Ouija session. Active boards that begot negative activity are extremely dangerous.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Who do you lean on? Did you have anyone you could call for help?<br />
<br />
Denise: I asked the ladies if they had any religious affiliations. Linda had stopped going to church after her son died. I called my pastor, as well as another investigator that lived only a couple hours away. Luckily, they were both able to meet me at the house.<br />
<br />
E.M.: I always get curious about that process -- about bringing in spiritual advisers.<br />
<br />
Denise: I'm always respectful. I would never push anything on an individual. Linda and Rosa were supportive of my calling the pastor. When he arrived, I filled him in on what was happening, and he asked if he could do a blessing on the house and the two women. They both agreed.<br />
<br />
E.M.: And the board?<br />
<br />
Denise: The other investigator and myself took it outside, off the property.<br />
<br />
E.M.: At the time, had you dealt with an active Ouija board before?<br />
<br />
Denise: I had not, but the other investigator had. He immediately submerged it inside a tote of water. After the pastor was done blessing the house, along with Linda and Rosa, he came outside and performed a blessing on myself and the other investigator, and also on the board.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Did the blessing, in a way, <i>deactivate</i> the board?<br />
<br />
Denise: Honestly, I wasn't sure. But we kept it submerged in the tote, put the lid on it, and transported it as it was.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Wow. And where is it now?<br />
<br />
Denise: Objects of this magnitude, we don't disclose its location.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So it's not in the Warren's museum, or any museum?<br />
<br />
Denise: It's in a safe place (<i>laughs</i>).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7JZ4Ghc8wiiQ_4ikglfTqrGvFMF5yU4BO_MX7_m6Rvm_jLPKE1rU_Yjq8s-9cA9osL_pWSH5xjeoo2X5wUojb-Up-wjXkHPl8HQksHciXEVTsSKZFllaLpjM3-xHno2sTvYiYSxvqRk/s1600/PSHW0VYCXG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7JZ4Ghc8wiiQ_4ikglfTqrGvFMF5yU4BO_MX7_m6Rvm_jLPKE1rU_Yjq8s-9cA9osL_pWSH5xjeoo2X5wUojb-Up-wjXkHPl8HQksHciXEVTsSKZFllaLpjM3-xHno2sTvYiYSxvqRk/s320/PSHW0VYCXG.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
E.M.: Is submerging Ouija boards in water always how to 'contain' them, if that's the right word?<br />
<br />
Denise: Well, what I've found is every case stands on its own. Every case is unique. For this case, we did what we thought would be the safest outcome for everyone.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Once the board was removed, did the entity leave?<br />
<br />
Denise: Linda and Rosa said the activity began to subside immediately after the board was removed. Another pastor came to do an additional blessing. I keep in touch with Linda relatively regularly, and she says the activity has basically stopped. And she has not seen the shadowman in the hallway since the first time my pastor blessed her house. <br />
<br />
E.M.: Truthfully, I'm not sure I could have stayed in the house after something like that. Kudos to Linda.<br />
<br />
Denise: She seemed to heal from the experience. She spent so much time grieving and feeling angry, then this entity arrived. When things spiral out of control, it's easy to lose perspective. Linda's in a much happier place now. And I'm very glad things ended up how they did for her. It was bad for a long time.<br />
<br />
E.M.: What's next for Denise?<br />
<br />
Denise: Another phone call to return, and another case to follow...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQ2IT2btbWvRKkvQM1wQwK9KU8nqMisezXFJsNRGxbtS2layp3aNcAwvQJopYCP_t2SR1IlA4d3S5-YrY_d4FXrSYCFfwKAWZ-uPkNGlNd-cU3mvdsi3LuIcPeeGp1eqkuQPDfOftkYE/s1600/7KYKBCNBG5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQ2IT2btbWvRKkvQM1wQwK9KU8nqMisezXFJsNRGxbtS2layp3aNcAwvQJopYCP_t2SR1IlA4d3S5-YrY_d4FXrSYCFfwKAWZ-uPkNGlNd-cU3mvdsi3LuIcPeeGp1eqkuQPDfOftkYE/s320/7KYKBCNBG5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
+++<br />
<br />
Denise had other amazing stories during our interview, but I chose to share what I felt were the two most compelling.<br />
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></u>
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;">Do you have any paranormal stories? COMMENT BELOW!</span></b></u><br />
<br />
PS: It's almost <span style="font-size: large;">HALLOWEEN!</span> If you want a steal on some cheap and ghoulish reads, check out my <a href="http://www.amazon.com/E.M.-Bryant/e/B00CGNCEU8/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1"><span style="font-size: x-large;">diary trilogy</span></a> for only <span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SU83GZA">99 cents each</a>!</span> XOXO<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwX_Lu5MdwozdG5zY0qDNMiOxyZY69u9sQEOwBrriwNZKoG5NhgA57VT7EfaTM5wxVfsTqGbynm-gfs1PKG32JvqXJqwMNSb8Gp3kaeAKyQ7LT0SYMucoRT2LyW4eYV7mHMOGAtKeZgs/s1600/officialcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwX_Lu5MdwozdG5zY0qDNMiOxyZY69u9sQEOwBrriwNZKoG5NhgA57VT7EfaTM5wxVfsTqGbynm-gfs1PKG32JvqXJqwMNSb8Gp3kaeAKyQ7LT0SYMucoRT2LyW4eYV7mHMOGAtKeZgs/s200/officialcover.jpg" width="125" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXseiOyoVR4l_0RyvGBzIIaiMUXb9A0SKcDevVbOIf0gFh-RR3JZsw9aYnONyfpwZxoNb8AE2pEv9nmYa1zbqc6v5kmKmPANMcPz3Z081v30KDNOFpycv02MzX4tDZ1XJJADOtPAJN7LM/s1600/PURGATORYCOVER15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXseiOyoVR4l_0RyvGBzIIaiMUXb9A0SKcDevVbOIf0gFh-RR3JZsw9aYnONyfpwZxoNb8AE2pEv9nmYa1zbqc6v5kmKmPANMcPz3Z081v30KDNOFpycv02MzX4tDZ1XJJADOtPAJN7LM/s200/PURGATORYCOVER15.jpg" width="125" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYMGU34ric6_eKZ1VRWG9RGXOEfCAzHbLUg9wNLx91XGR7lTMzuR-Ga2ZwQR6U73LPvjIzPA1yx0AxZ4b4DuEIeiBWWbb8S9EV4-7h8QGz5iG7AsJJXKOGL7l1tv4mh6vRpVgf08i8N4/s1600/GENESISCOVER15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYMGU34ric6_eKZ1VRWG9RGXOEfCAzHbLUg9wNLx91XGR7lTMzuR-Ga2ZwQR6U73LPvjIzPA1yx0AxZ4b4DuEIeiBWWbb8S9EV4-7h8QGz5iG7AsJJXKOGL7l1tv4mh6vRpVgf08i8N4/s200/GENESISCOVER15.jpg" width="125" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
+++<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">#Halloween2015 #horror #paranormal #hauntedblog #hauntedobjects #kindle </span>Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-45961232992133837592015-09-10T12:35:00.000-05:002015-09-10T12:52:27.881-05:00OCTOBER IS COMING!!! Let's have a book sale NOW!Okay, So October might be a few more weeks away, but that doesn't mean you can't stock up on some scary reads!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqELKUXyWX1ggIrFqzPcRRuumQttnAuuRodM9Tf-yHOb5OiEGgIDQDXb90fRSjLAr9Eqr_XBLl4ACOWLlars_vc4bLP7mFvIW9BemRqqr5ECNRRQUdnfCtwRY38ihPCq4wqQND7tXwac/s1600/cemetery-458335_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqELKUXyWX1ggIrFqzPcRRuumQttnAuuRodM9Tf-yHOb5OiEGgIDQDXb90fRSjLAr9Eqr_XBLl4ACOWLlars_vc4bLP7mFvIW9BemRqqr5ECNRRQUdnfCtwRY38ihPCq4wqQND7tXwac/s320/cemetery-458335_1280.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Maybe...starting with the trilogy???? :-D Only 99 cents each!!!<br />
<br />
<b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SU83GZA"><span style="font-size: large;">Rapture</span></a></i></b><br />
It's the epitome of haunted schools--and a super taboo love story...<br />
<br />
<i><b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Genesis-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-2-ebook/dp/B00J3ZW2A4/ref=pd_sim_351_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=03BZF20HW16F6XX6BWTZ&dpSrc=sims&dpST=_AC_UL320_SR200%2C320_"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Genesis</span></a></b></i><br />
<i><b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SU83GZA">Rapture's</a></b></i> prequel. Jess Jaco is super sick, and here's why...<br />
<br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Purgatory-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-3-ebook/dp/B00XWFQZFO/ref=pd_sim_sbs_351_2?ie=UTF8&refRID=0XJB7D3FK5VM6F7441CY&dpSrc=sims&dpST=_AC_UL320_SR200%2C320_">Purgatory</a></span></i></b><br />
What happened to the little family from <i><b>Rapture</b></i>? Find out their fates, and learn the identity of the young nun...<br />
<br />
PS:<br />
<br />
Check out the face-lift on these book covers!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojNessqZ7Y9i1NS84jiwLapnJW96NqO8D_xXYapZL1X-2IztHuAUOZD2wmBCUMGNS5IiWxEooFQwFvTxumuVeoLhL91TY_DVQU4JUjNULZkkasxIB98CxyNZ4XnIxZNOhAh4Qp1B5iYU/s1600/PURGATORYCOVER15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojNessqZ7Y9i1NS84jiwLapnJW96NqO8D_xXYapZL1X-2IztHuAUOZD2wmBCUMGNS5IiWxEooFQwFvTxumuVeoLhL91TY_DVQU4JUjNULZkkasxIB98CxyNZ4XnIxZNOhAh4Qp1B5iYU/s320/PURGATORYCOVER15.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwEDmzjoBE45xmw57mCRBXeQrAXilaqWAbig2P6c8c5vfMA_5mmKIkeMnQd_jX-OdBdQOQ5taJtw_qgnmAm1a5Radz9NAMwn51Z9eo65f4ruFkMDjmQ49x1jej2PdQIk49I3CrR767Jxs/s1600/GENESISCOVER15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwEDmzjoBE45xmw57mCRBXeQrAXilaqWAbig2P6c8c5vfMA_5mmKIkeMnQd_jX-OdBdQOQ5taJtw_qgnmAm1a5Radz9NAMwn51Z9eo65f4ruFkMDjmQ49x1jej2PdQIk49I3CrR767Jxs/s320/GENESISCOVER15.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEz2ZeqFHYmvSdagFfbOcN7wqOQFszQIP3FovqDAeok0PMpGu1pTIuakvn8TOY4Y3OXGdriSc8NDBoIEwFR8GKnQdNNS3bOAWdL96OMf7ifoyZM9p9s8zO59HjhRcyBVf2a4ueuPFECw/s1600/officialcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEz2ZeqFHYmvSdagFfbOcN7wqOQFszQIP3FovqDAeok0PMpGu1pTIuakvn8TOY4Y3OXGdriSc8NDBoIEwFR8GKnQdNNS3bOAWdL96OMf7ifoyZM9p9s8zO59HjhRcyBVf2a4ueuPFECw/s320/officialcover.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<br />
(And stay tuned for Part 2 of the Haunted Objects interview!)<br />
<br />
++++++++++++++++++++++++<br />
FOLLOW ME!<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/moonbryantbooks"><span style="font-size: large;">FB</span></a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/MOONBRYANTBOOKS"><span style="font-size: large;">TWITTER</span></a><br />
<a href="http://www.tsu.co/lanamoon814"><span style="font-size: large;">TSU.CO</span></a><br />
<a href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/107627342565959425390/posts"><span style="font-size: large;">GOOGLE +</span></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
#horror #romance #kindle #ghoststories #hauntedschool #amazonLady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-75418006508311833872015-08-11T16:31:00.005-05:002015-08-11T16:31:18.568-05:00Haunted Objects: The Interview, Pt 1<u>Dictionary.com</u> defines haunted objects as items to disturb or distress; cause to have anxiety, trouble; worry, etc. Movies like <i><b>Annabelle</b></i> perpetuate public fascination with haunted objects. And as someone enthralled in the paranormal, I started out on my own journey to find out as much as I could about this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSf6jYen5RgHCxzqU5WGK3wd7DP5L417rm-pAQGREzlq_lFKBmxyBsSG054dFArfSBAlwO5ZIBI1DfLB4-ZW0dM5QBGT24e62p1PCPbpwPfUh6kFKpVVrbMEYCihyphenhyphenfzpxtcclfYWfHRls/s1600/house-487995_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSf6jYen5RgHCxzqU5WGK3wd7DP5L417rm-pAQGREzlq_lFKBmxyBsSG054dFArfSBAlwO5ZIBI1DfLB4-ZW0dM5QBGT24e62p1PCPbpwPfUh6kFKpVVrbMEYCihyphenhyphenfzpxtcclfYWfHRls/s320/house-487995_640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
A couple months ago, I sat down with a woman who removes haunted or "troubled" objects and artifacts from homes. These are the type of objects we read about or see in scary movies (like that damn doll), and when I was introduced to "Denise" about a year ago, I had been dying to ask her every single possible question.<br />
<br />
She calls herself a <i>cleaner</i>, and in the past nearly 2 decades, she's cleaned or removed around 30 objects from homes in the Midwest.<br />
<br />
In exchange for an interview, I've agreed to keep her identity anonymous, as well as the folks she mentions. Below is part of one of our meetings. For the sake of privacy, her name during the interview is "Denise."<br />
<br />
E.M.: So, my first question is pretty common, I'm sure. What made you venture into this?<br />
<br />
Denise: There were a lot of factors that brought me into this. When I was in my 20s, I joined several regional paranormal research groups. Some did investigations in homes. Others just did general historical stuff--like spending the weekend in a library and finding out everything possible about previous owners of homes or land. I liked all of that, but collecting haunted artifacts...or more correctly, securing them, was a whole different thing. And it's not something that's advertised necessarily, even in paranormal groups. But I had the question, which was: what do we do when an object is terrifying someone?<br />
<br />
E.M.: And the answer?<br />
<br />
Denise: It varied by case, as I quickly found out.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Can you be more specific?<br />
<br />
Denise: Well, some items have to be destroyed. That usually means getting a clergyman or medicine man involved. Other items just need to be relocated, which can be as simple as a cemetery where the body of the person haunting the object lies, or as complicated as a secluded or confined area where no other person can get to the object.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Wow. So, Hollywood isn't always that far off?<br />
<br />
Denise: It's usually much less dramatic than what we see in movies, actually.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Do you have a specific encounter you can share?<br />
<br />
Denise: I've got lots! But one I'll share, only because I have permission from the homeowner, happened about a decade ago. I had just gotten married. My son was 10, and my stepson was 8, so we were a blended family, but it was really smooth and lovely. I mean, life was truly, truly good. And sometimes I think we're put in these super-high situations so we can help people who are in rough spots. On this occasion, I got a call about a mother who had moved into her great aunt's house. It was a giant Victorian home that hadn't been occupied in several years. <br />
<br />
E.M.: It already sounds like a movie...<br />
<br />
Denise: Right? Except I think it's pretty common for houses and land to be recycled within families, but movies always dramatize it.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Old houses are a lot of work, too--especially if no one's been living in them.<br />
<br />
Denise: Oh, God. I can't imagine. Original furniture was still inside the home, all of which was put into a storage shed on the property. The only item that was kept was an old music box.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yhygu89E8fL771wjMqd-Fi6zsg6CcPQGM2nuj1ylqKig8PWqYYEOA8SvAXz1jQyij2UJHZQ9BuPfG_DlYryJdxaEfRPEtph3qv-mPHw_bqrA7zhr3oGIao4RIBj8hWNwjh-Z-MjXsN4/s1600/coffer-281247_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yhygu89E8fL771wjMqd-Fi6zsg6CcPQGM2nuj1ylqKig8PWqYYEOA8SvAXz1jQyij2UJHZQ9BuPfG_DlYryJdxaEfRPEtph3qv-mPHw_bqrA7zhr3oGIao4RIBj8hWNwjh-Z-MjXsN4/s320/coffer-281247_640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
E.M.: A music box?! I already hate this story!<br />
<br />
Denise: (<i>*laughs*</i>) Well, this woman--I'll call her Irene--began to hear this music box playing in the middle of the night. At first, she thought one of her kids was pranking her. She had 3 girls--and they ranged in age from 12 to 3, and I would have been suspicious of my own kids.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So what did she do?<br />
<br />
Denise: Well, she's actually a pretty smart lady. The music box had been sitting out in the hallway on an end table, so she put it in her bedroom thinking that she'd catch one of her kids in the act. The plan kind of backfired on her.<br />
<br />
E.M.: How so?<br />
<br />
Denise: She'd leave the room and be halfway down the hall; then suddenly, she'd hear it playing.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Oh no.<br />
<br />
Denise: So she'd walk back to her bedroom...and nothing. Total silence. It became so frightening and frustrating that she finally took the music box out of the hall and put it into her bedroom closet. But the moment she closed the closet door and started to walk away, the darn thing started to play!<br />
<br />
E.M.: No!<br />
<br />
Denise: Several similar incidents later, and I get a phone call.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So when you get summoned for these situations, what do you do? Do you just pick up the item and dump it?<br />
<br />
Denise: Oh, no. First, I have a sit down with the family, along with the investigating team. It's vital to make sure #1, there's only one object causing the problem, and #2, it's even a paranormal situation. There are certainly occasions (with electronics) that simply have a malfunction...and they are conveniently going off in the middle of the night, scaring the pants off everyone nearby. Those cases are wonderful to be able to debunk and file away. It's the other cases--the ones we can't debunk--that have to be handled differently.<br />
<br />
E.M.: And in this case, can you walk me through what happened once you became involved?<br />
<br />
Denise: I entered the house, a big beautiful house, and immediately met Irene and her husband. They seemed very centered and calm. How people decorate their home says a lot about them. Irene's house was covered with pictures of her children, pictures of her wedding day, and all of the furniture was very warm, very comfy. The decor was classic Americana. I mean, certainly you can't judge every book by its cover, but some homes are dramatic the moment you enter them. Some homes are so cluttered with artwork and furniture that you're tired almost instantly. And some homes just have a naturally warm feel to them. Irene's home was the latter.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So, probably not the type of family to overreact or imagine something that's not there.<br />
<br />
Denise: It's always possible, but in that specific environment, I thought it unlikely. Also, Irene's husband was bouncing back and forth from embarrassment to nervousness, and even a little anger. But men often take these things harder than women (*<i>laughs*</i>).<br />
<br />
E.M.: I noticed that as a ghost hunter, women typically noticed things happening first.<br />
<br />
Denise: Especially if they are mothers. Chock it up to whatever you want, but I firmly believe that women are just grounded biologically into the earth harder than men. We bear children, we hear and know everything about our babies when they are small, and our homes should be safe havens. The instant something is off, a woman will pick up on it. It's not that men are oblivious to it, but I think it's a role situation. Men naturally want to fix anything and everything tangible, but when the problem isn't something they can hammer and nail, it's another situation. When my son was born, anything would wake me up. Half a chirp from a cricket, and my head was off the pillow. My guard was up. By proxy, men have a way of being more logical. When I hear a bump in the night now, my guard is still up, and I'm rattling in my mind everything from murderers to my kids tearing up the kitchen. My husband will roll over and say 'squirrel,' or 'wind,' but it was only after learning each other's habits that he started to tune in on things that were keeping me up. That's the great thing about men. They have the uncanny ability to tune out what they don't want to be bothered with. Someday I'll learn to do that. Or not.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So, Irene's motherly instinct brought this to life first. When did her husband get on board?<br />
<br />
Denise: When he had his own experience. And his was a doozy.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Do I need to get the security blanket?<br />
<br />
Denise: (laughs) Well, he was home alone and decided to take a shower. He started the water, walked back down the hall to grab something, and as he walked back to the bathroom, he noticed the top of the music box was open. So he closed it, stepped into the shower, and carried on. Suddenly, he heard the music box playing. He ignored it, finished his shower, and as soon as he turned the water off, the music stopped. At this point, he thinks he's hearing something, leaves the bathroom, and discovers the music box open again.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Uh oh.<br />
<br />
Denise: Exactly. So he closes the box, puts a book on top of it, and walks slowly to his bedroom. When his back is turned, he hears music again. He turns around, and the book to the side of the music box, and the top is open again. So now he's got a problem. Either someone is in the house (silently) playing a joke on him, or all of Irene's stories are suddenly making sense.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Which brings you to the house...<br />
<br />
Denise: The music box wasn't anything extravagant. It was about 5 inches tall, 4 inches across...small, forgettable. It had white paint that was really worn and faded, and the inside of the top was shaped like a tiny carousel. I mean, I've seen a dozen or more of these at garage sales. They're old pieces, but very mundane and unexciting. Yet, <i>something</i> was happening. I needed to know who specifically owned the music box. And Irene confirmed quickly that it had belonged to the great aunt. <br />
E.M.: So what's your next step?<br />
<br />
Denise: I ask questions about the great aunt. What kind of life did she have? What kind of person was she? Who else lived in the house? Did anyone die in the house? The list goes on until I have enough info to start researching.<br />
<br />
E.M.: When do you take the object out of the house?<br />
<br />
Denise: It depends on the case. In this instance, I removed it from the house that first day and took it to the hotel with me. I then went to the library the next day to figure out what had happened on the property, if anything, and how it could correlate to the case.<br />
<br />
E.M.: And?<br />
<br />
Denise: The property didn't appear to have anything violent or infamous occur, but the great aunt was another story. She spent her early 20s in a mental hospital before her mother (Irene's great-great aunt) brought her back to the family home (now Irene's home). There's not a lot of detail as to what happened to this woman, but the librarian said there was a rumor that this woman was chasing after a married man, who rebuffed her, after which she suffered some kind of mental breakdown. There was an allegation that she tried to kill the man's wife, but no charges were ever pressed. The event, allegedly, took place inside the house.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So the question becomes...is the great aunt somehow attached to the property, or to the music box? Or is it not even the great aunt?<br />
<br />
Denise: So often, I walk away with more questions than answers. The great aunt had been the only person inside the home for two decades before she passed away. The music box--<i>her</i> music box--was the only item that had been disturbing the family. After 2 days out of the house, the family reported they had not experienced anything paranormal. I had had the music box looked at to make sure it didn't have any defects or had been tampered with. After it got a clean bill of health, I took it back to the hotel, but didn't experience anything while it was in my possession. So as a final experiment, I returned the music box to the home and spent the day/night with the family.<br />
<br />
E.M.: Your theory?<br />
<br />
Denise: It's always wise to rule out every possibility. When I remove an object and the activity stops (both for the location and for the object), then I need to make sure this wasn't an isolated incident where maybe a family member exaggerates or misreads something. Fear can rub off on others, so I wanted to rule out that Irene's belief that the music box was haunted hadn't manufactured an experience with her husband and family. <br />
<br />
E.M.: The result?<br />
<br />
Denise: Twice in the middle of the night, that darn thing started playing music. The first time, I sat my recorder down. A few more seconds of music played, then it stopped. I turned the music box over again to look it over and make sure it hadn't been wound up/tampered with. Everything appeared normal. I sat it back down and walked away, closing the room off. And not 5 minutes later it started playing again. As soon as someone walked back into the room, it stopped. I did, thankfully, capture the music on my recorder that second time. After that, I took the box out of the house for good.<br />
<br />
E.M.: And where is the music box now?<br />
<br />
Denise: Irene's aunt was a devout Lutheran. I had a pastor perform a prayer on the music box. Even though I hadn't experienced anything, I like to do everything possible to "clean" the object before putting it into storage.<br />
<br />
E.M.: So, you have a storage facility in your home for these items?<br />
<br />
Denise: I share a unit with another <i>cleaner</i>. The items we store have to fall under a specific criteria (i.e. not malicious or dangerous), and the unit is closed to the public.<br />
<br />
E.M.: And then the case is closed?<br />
<br />
Denise: I keep in touch with families I meet with. In ten years, Irene's family hasn't experienced anything else, and they've remained in a good place as far as their home goes. That's everything. Your home should be your haven, not something you're afraid of.<br />
<br />
E.M.: I hope most of your cases have happy endings.<br />
<br />
Denise: Well, like I said, they vary from case to case. Unfortunately, they don't always end like this. There have been occasions where things have escalated in a very dark way. But that's a whole other kind of nightmare.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-9Xix7H8jF5gErYJKir07k5ZIlAQYUozwiob4d7RvgJ_oOiHx1y6Rantf175FloXINIVjIExZXzxlcYlXVfdJjGuY0ZB4WszjNJxxkYAH8ezc1Ce0GXbQ045Q0AeTLLBzJNDHmfIiHs/s1600/doll-626790_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-9Xix7H8jF5gErYJKir07k5ZIlAQYUozwiob4d7RvgJ_oOiHx1y6Rantf175FloXINIVjIExZXzxlcYlXVfdJjGuY0ZB4WszjNJxxkYAH8ezc1Ce0GXbQ045Q0AeTLLBzJNDHmfIiHs/s320/doll-626790_640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
+++<br />
<br />
Coming soon: Pt 2<br />
<br />Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-69330777907825739922015-06-08T08:52:00.001-05:002015-06-08T08:52:36.364-05:00PURGATORY FREE DAYS (6/8, 6/9, 6/10)Is it Christmas?<br />
<br />
No, but I do have a free giveaway Mon, Tues, and Wed: <b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XWFQZFO"><span style="font-size: x-large;">PURGATORY!</span></a></i></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Imx8EAK9SmF0E4HwzamDqCAY-h4Iv_MrFaO5lGuvftYqix4kMdmE7p5lpV96XCcCoqbzFw_BqjKhGfkM_lVYpdOt64hfdtOqDcDX8ndCIa_g_Df2lUfd4l-aTER3eEgGKyEqI7ED3V8/s1600/eye-716008_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Imx8EAK9SmF0E4HwzamDqCAY-h4Iv_MrFaO5lGuvftYqix4kMdmE7p5lpV96XCcCoqbzFw_BqjKhGfkM_lVYpdOt64hfdtOqDcDX8ndCIa_g_Df2lUfd4l-aTER3eEgGKyEqI7ED3V8/s320/eye-716008_1280.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<br />
Find out what happened to the survivors in this last installment! New to the diary trilogy? <b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SU83GZA">Rapture</a></i></b> and <b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J3ZW2A4">Genesis</a></i></b> are only 99 cents! You can download all 3 books for $1.98!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GcI1lNa3tvFz5xFGxKRBoht2fX31cJm-Mxen_AIjEUajUWBOq8u2fwWqnrS66coB6-i1YFyiiGlFPc635yZM9m8YQDALjiJe_rH1qIpajpyHWXtoL_E9M7LPi0PktwBmCODiP68wTw0/s1600/photo-1422284763110-6d0edd657b13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GcI1lNa3tvFz5xFGxKRBoht2fX31cJm-Mxen_AIjEUajUWBOq8u2fwWqnrS66coB6-i1YFyiiGlFPc635yZM9m8YQDALjiJe_rH1qIpajpyHWXtoL_E9M7LPi0PktwBmCODiP68wTw0/s320/photo-1422284763110-6d0edd657b13.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
What are you waiting for??<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghTEuWzCH7bRRPuBgCzu2A-kLBFpfB7dtZT3g41wHJhrxTd-FhqRrab8P2IEX3kdEyNhIOBCx6vfSePrlxTDe8hBzt2BpW_K2CnotZWX4Wt1ljYLnSQ1ENLikxLtSNS-PHuuyXz4zt_2U/s1600/Purgatory_Cover_for_Kindle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghTEuWzCH7bRRPuBgCzu2A-kLBFpfB7dtZT3g41wHJhrxTd-FhqRrab8P2IEX3kdEyNhIOBCx6vfSePrlxTDe8hBzt2BpW_K2CnotZWX4Wt1ljYLnSQ1ENLikxLtSNS-PHuuyXz4zt_2U/s320/Purgatory_Cover_for_Kindle.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">EXCERPT:</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Bowers, you can’t keep me out of
there. This is my case, too. We’re supposed to trust each other—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“I do trust you, Vivian—you more than
anyone else.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Then why are you shutting me out?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Her safety was more important than
anything to me. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“He’s behind bars.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“You were scared. I saw the look on
your face.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“I was attacked less than a week ago.
But I’m fine now, Bowers.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“No.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Gregory.” Her hand reached for my
arm. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“If I hadn’t found you outside that hospital,
I don’t know what would have happened, Viv. I can’t risk your life.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“I’m fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">I shook my head at her. “I’m not.” I
saw the hurt in her eyes. That wasn’t my intention, but I wasn’t about to
jeopardize her life. “Please, just stay away from him.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“What do you think is going to
happen?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Vivian, he seduced that poor woman at
the school.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Gregory—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Look, I want to find Claudia. I want
to find those kids.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Then her face turned bright red—just
as it did when she tore into Donovan. Only this time, it was directed at me. “I
think you just <i>want</i> to find that <i>woman</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Finding the nun is the key to solving
this. I know it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Bowers, you’re becoming obsessed! And
evil is closing in on us. You’ve felt it! I know you have. You have Locke. You
don’t need <i>her</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“I do.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Do you hear yourself? Locke may very
well know Jaco’s location. He could be hiding that from you, but instead you
are focusing all of your energy into finding a woman you don’t need.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“I just want the truth.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">“Are you sure that’s all you want?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #20124d;">+++</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">UK LINKS:</span><br />
<b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8"><span style="color: #20124d;">RAPTURE</span></a></i></b><br />
<b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Genesis-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-2-ebook/dp/B00J3ZW2A4/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8"><span style="color: #20124d;">GENESIS</span></a></i></b><br />
<b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Purgatory-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-3-ebook/dp/B00XWFQZFO/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8"><span style="color: #20124d;">PURGATORY</span></a></i></b><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">+++</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/E.M.-Bryant/e/B00CGNCEU8/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1"><span style="color: #20124d;">VISIT MY AMAZON PAGE!</span></a>Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129534278962967709.post-52381335591614897982015-06-02T15:07:00.001-05:002015-06-02T15:07:05.175-05:00E.M. Bryant Loves ShortiesIf you didn't know, I write under two pen names. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lana-Moon/e/B00MNU9RK4/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1433275122&sr=8-1">Lana Moon</a> is my *published* paranormal/suspense romance lady name. She is divine, in my humble opinion, but she's going to delve into YA territory later this summer!<br />
<br />
But <a href="http://www.amazon.com/E.M.-Bryant/e/B00CGNCEU8/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1433275254&sr=8-1">E.M. Bryant</a> came first. She is the creation of the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">diary trilogy</a>, as well as some short stories. One short story, <b><i>His Wrath Her Honor</i></b>, was pulled earlier this year so that it can be revised and reissued.<br />
<br />
Short stories, if I'm perfectly honest, are where my heart is these days. And I'm a firm believer that a good, strong story can be well under 100 pages...IF the plot is good and the characters believable.<br />
<br />
Size, in my eyes, doesn't matter. It's all about plot and characters.<br />
<br />
In today's world, it's becoming harder to find the commitment time for an epic novel. I'll get through 1 or 2 novels a year. The rest are novellas and short stories. Time--that is the key word.<br />
<br />
So, I find myself in familiar territory now. I'm revising a story to give depth to the characters. I'm simplifying the plot. I'm making the main characters more reachable and less over-the-top. I'm learning that genuinity trumps larger than life in these short tales. And I have readers to thank for that.<br />
<br />
As a writer, it can be difficult to see those negative reviews. But if you're going to be any kind of a success, sometimes you need to hear the harsh truth and plan accordingly. I'll admit as a writer that I'm not objective with my own work. I don't know many who are, in all honestly. I send a draft to my editor thinking <i>"This is fucking gold! Try and find an problem!"</i> ... and then am immediately humbled by the dashes of red ink all over the pages.<br />
<br />
I think this is called perspective.<br />
<br />
At any rate, it's summer. I need to write something lighter than the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rapture-DIARY-TRILOGY-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00SU83GZA/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">trilogy</a>. This is a perfect time to get <b><i>His Wrath Her Honor</i></b> revised and ready for a re-boot.<br />
<br />
If you're unfamiliar, check out the synopsis below, as well as the BRAND NEW COVER!!!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclCvMeMl2OXT4r89QiIglWpJZAMPWwaIv2KQuM8evGuU2rb4hl_2THrUQxxY39omdMeQFdda5QVXBNlQjztweAck9VTMZdGMefxlktxq5Fuwv91z33AFP1WDH88ZBCLymrOeFEUM8w0c/s1600/BookCoverPreview1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclCvMeMl2OXT4r89QiIglWpJZAMPWwaIv2KQuM8evGuU2rb4hl_2THrUQxxY39omdMeQFdda5QVXBNlQjztweAck9VTMZdGMefxlktxq5Fuwv91z33AFP1WDH88ZBCLymrOeFEUM8w0c/s320/BookCoverPreview1.jpg" width="197" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Nick
is convinced he's living someone else's life. He hates the town he's been left
to run. He hates the mundane existence that has become his world. He spends his days boozing and throwing
punches. The last thing he wants is to feel anything but malice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Lonely
Simone's only wish is to live in peace in the sleepy town of River Hollow. Not
an easy feat when Nick Banes is your boss.
And when Simone accidentally reveals her broken heart to Nick, his intrigue
quickly becomes an obsession. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Nick
decides he wants Simone to feel love again...but with him. And he'll do
whatever it takes to win her over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<u>STAY TUNED FOR RE-RELEASE INFO FOR <b><i>HIS WRATH HER HONOR</i></b>!</u>Lady Meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04832013236742872950noreply@blogger.com0