The Graveyard Book

Neil Gaiman's Newbery Award winner The Graveyard Book (HarperCollins, September, 2008) is my choice for best Halloween reading. Actually it's a great book any time of year. Magical, lyrical, uplifting - there are not enough superaltives to describe what is catagorized as a children's story. I left my childhood eons ago and still found it mesmerizing from the first word. What makes The Graveyard Book even more special is the presence of a wise, and caring vampire.

Synopsis: Neil Gaiman tells the unforgettable story of Nobody Owens, a living, breathing boy whose home is a graveyard, raised by a guardian who belongs neither to the mortal world nor the realm of the dead. Among the mausoleums and headstones of his home, Bod experiences things most mortals can barely imagine. But real, flesh-and-blood danger waits just outside the cemetery walls: the man who murdered the infant Bod’s family will not rest until he finds Nobody Owens and finishes the job he began many years ago.

Jeff Bennington - Blog Tour and Contest

Please welcome Jeff Bennington as he tours the blogosphere to let readers know about his new supernatural thriller REUNION. One lucky commenter will win a Kindle! [See contest details and a synopsis of the story at the end of the post]

A True Ghost Story

By Jeff Bennington

In the fall of 2010, my wife and I went on a weekend getaway with some friends of ours. We rented a really cool cabin in Nashville, Indiana equipped with hot tub, gas grill and pool table! Nestled in a cozy hillside, the joint had a beautiful wraparound porch and an exquisite view of the southern Indiana countryside. The sun shone through the trees, the air felt crisp and cool and I just knew I was in Heaven.

We unpacked, started the gas log and settled into our perfect retreat. We had a fun evening planned of cards and watching horror flicks, but decided to head into the tiny town on Nashville to walk through the many shops and galleries. Before we returned, we planned to stop by the ice cream shop and order one of those humongous sugar cones of hand-dipped ice cream. The evening went as planned and we returned to our cabin ready to warm our bones and watch House on Haunted Hill; a perfect movie for snuggling.

Before I knew it, the other three began to fall asleep and we decided to hit the sack.

A couple hours later, around 2:00 a.m., I woke up dripping with sweat. The upper loft apparently had very little airflow. I felt so flipping hot I couldn’t stand it. My wife slept like a baby. I had to get out of there!

I lumbered down the steps and listened to every creak and crack in the rafters. The wind had decided to begin whistling, and I knew I was in for a royal treat. When I stepped down from the stairway, I peered at the leather couch. It looked so cool and inviting. I imagined sprawling out into its cushiony spread. But then I heard a noise, and quite naturally, I turned my head and at the same time my skin melted off my face.

I didn’t see anything unusual. The open concept left nothing to hide. The stairs opened to the living room, dining room and kitchen. Our friend’s bedroom and bath were the only other rooms, and they were attached to the kitchen. After giving the cabin a final inspection from where I stood, I lay down on the couch, snuggled into my bed sheet and closed my eyes…but the noises continued.

I tried listening, listening really close, but the little squeaks and groans seemed to be coming from every direction. No big deal, I thought. It’s just a cabin. Get over it and just fall asleep. And then, something curious happened. The creaking floorboards began to move closer to me. One at a time I’d hear what sounded like a footstep roll softly across the wood floor, pressing gently down, trying not to be heard. My heart, as you can imagine beat madly in my chest, nearly bursting through my ribcage. I looked through the TV screen to see if there was anyone walking, but I didn’t see anything. Then when this thing, whatever it was, pressed into the floor right next to the couch, I couldn’t take it, I sat up, turned my head toward the open space and heard a voice forcefully whisper, “Heeelllloooo!”

This wasn’t a quiet, don’t let them hear you whisper. Oh, no! This was a, I’m not presently living in your dimension, so I’m screaming at you type of whisper. I panicked, jumping straight up like a cat, nearly falling off the couch. It didn’t help that a globe shape lamp stand stood right beside me! I noticed the silhouette of the lamp as soon as I turned around, adding to my near death experience. Seconds later, I realized that the shape beside me was only a floor lamp, but that didn’t make me feel any better. My heart continued pounding like a sprinters feet in the one-hundred-yard dash.

From that moment on, for at least thirty minutes, I felt an electric energy buzzing through my body and felt as if something had hovered over me, almost nose-to-nose, staring at me. I peered through the corner of my eye but couldn’t see anything—nothing physical anyway. But I knew in the deepest part of my soul that something was there. I felt absolutely petrified, frozen in place, like a freshly discovered icy Neanderthal in the Tibetan icecaps.

My eyes searched for movement, but found nothing. I did see, however, a showy figure moving side to side in the reflection of the microwave door. It was the strangest thing. There were no ceiling fans spinning or curtains waving. Everything stood still…everything except the dancing shadow. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran back up the stairs to my personal boiler room and slid under the covers with my wife. Still, I never felt alone.

After several minutes of fighting my fears, I finally fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of biscuits and gravy and the sound of coffee percolating in the kitchen. My wife and friends, like myself, were shuffling our feet like the undead, trying our best to navigate with squinted, puffy eyes. We eventually sat down to eat.

In a moment of silence, Sarah, my friend’s wife asked if anyone heard anything in the night. I looked at her curiously and asked why. She said, “Because someone was tugging at our doorknob, off and on, for about an hour sometime around four in the morning.” She thought we had mistaken her room for the bathroom, but she was too tired to get out of bed. I then proceed to tell everyone of my experience, and I affirmed to her, and the other two, that I never left the living room until I ran upstairs, and I never walked toward their bedroom.

We all sort of let our suspicions cool for a while. But then my buddy opened up the guest logbook; the kind that each visitor can leave a message to the cabin owners about their experience. And wouldn’t you know it; the book was filled with story after story about a spirit that inhabited the structure.

They called him Earl.

Some of the visitors claimed that he was a gentle ghost, mostly curious, and only somewhat troublesome. Others rebuked the owners for not disclosing the fact that malevolent spirits had haunted the cabin. Me? I don’t know what that thing was, but it scared the hell out of me.

The upside of that experience is, when I write supernatural thrillers, I can honestly communicate what it feels like to be petrified by something that you can’t explain. I know what it sounds like when it’s moving toward me. I know that electrifying sensation when a ghost is standing beside me. Also, I know that there are things out there…things we can’t see. But I also know that where there is darkness, there is also light, and that is all I need to know to keep my sanity.

-Jeff Bennington
Author of REUNION and the blog, The Writing Bomb

CONTEST

Thanks for reading. Be sure to “Follow” Patricia’s Vampire Notes, and then (if you like) purchase or donate a copy of REUNION to your library, available in print, Kindle, Nook and all digital formats.

If you comment on today’s post and email me at reunion.kindlegiveaway@yahoo.com, you’ll be eligible to win a Kindle on May 15th. Go to http://www.jeffbennington.com for details.

REUNION Synopsis

David Ray killed eight students and then turned the gun on himself. He thought the shooting and suicide would fix his world. It didn't. The massacre threw Tanner Khan and the other survivors into chaos.

Twenty years later, Tanner and his fellow classmates reluctantly agree to hold a reunion to lay the past to rest. Although they suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, they come back to their hometown and reunite in the defunct school building. Old flames are rekindled, fears are ignited, and their lives are about to explode in a whirlwind of memories, haunted by the spirit of David Ray.

Once inside the old school, they discover that a dark entity has joined them. It has come to collect a debt, long overdue, and someone has to pay. Will Tanner and his classmates overcome their fears and put the pieces of their lives back together, or will they be consumed by their worst nightmare?

Paige Tyler - Guest Blog and Contest

It's so wonderful to have Paige Tyler as guest blogger once again! She always has the sexiest, paranormal stories to share with us. Paige is also offering a copy of her ebook Good Cop Bad Girl [See details at the end of the post.]

Welcome back, Paige!

Paige Tyler Presents

I'm so excited to announce I have a new book out with Ellora's Cave!  It's a paranormal romance called GHOST HUNTER, and it's got a hunky hero, a kick-ass heroine and a serial killing ghost that's scary as hell!  Not to mention a smokin' hot cover!

I love when I come up with an idea for a book out of the blue, which is what happened with GHOST HUNTER. When I heard my local RWA chapter set up a lecture with a team of paranormal investigators, it got me thinking right away about writing a book about a ghost hunter. Because the chapter is far from where we live, though, we didn't actually go to the lecture. I was a little bummed about that, especially since they were giving out EMF detectors. On second thought, maybe it was better we didn't go. Ghosts freak me out, so having something that can detect them probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Enough about me, back to the story behind the story. While I knew the hero was a ghost hunter named Trace, I wasn't quite sure how the heroine fit into the story, or even who she was. So, my hubby and I played around with a few ideas at our local PF Chang's (we come up with a lot of story ideas there!) We both decided that having the heroine Cassidy need the hero's help because her house was haunted or something like that didn't seem original enough, so we made her a budding romance writer who tags along with the hero and his team to do some research. Like any good story, though, it had to have some conflict, which is why Trace and Cassidy completely rub each other the wrong way right from the beginning. Actually, he thinks he's a jerk. But don't worry, Cassidy discovers underneath that rough ghost hunter exterior, Trace is just the man she's been looking for. It doesn't hurt that he's hot!

Okay, so we had our hero and heroine. Now we needed a bad guy. That's where the ghost comes in. He's not your standard, everyday ghost, though. He's a serial killer who attacked Cassidy that comes back from the grave to continue his string of grisly murders, and she's at the top of his list. To make things even more interesting, not only can he do all the regular ghostly stuff like walk through walls and materialize out of thin air, he can also take solid form.

I'm not going to tell you any more than that, though. Don't want to give too much away, you know.  I will add that my editor at Ellora's Cave told me she got so caught up in the story, she completely forgot she was reading a submission!

Now that you know the story behind the story, I think I'll tease you with an excerpt.  Enjoy!


BLURB:

Almost getting murdered by a serial killer gives Cassidy Kincaide a new lease on life and convinces her to go ahead and tackle that ghost-hunter novel she's always wanted to write. So, she hooks up with a gorgeous paranormal investigator named Trace McCord to do some research.

Cassidy and Trace rub each other the wrong way right from the beginning, but they have to put aside their differences when the serial killer who attacked her comes back from the grave to continue his string of grisly murders, with her at the top of his list.

Trace has to keep Cassidy close to keep her safe, and as they try to stay one step ahead of the ghost while figuring out how to stop it, he and Cassidy end up in each other’s arms. While Trace has a whole list of reasons why he shouldn’t get involved with her, he finds himself falling in love with the beautiful blonde anyway. And even though Cassidy started out thinking he was a jerk, she learns that underneath the rough ghost hunter exterior, he’s just the man she’s always been looking for. Now, all they have to do, is live long enough to be together.


EXCERPT:

Trace was only a few miles from the address Robert had given him for Cassidy when his cell phone rang. At first he wasn’t going to answer it, but some sixth sense made him change his mind. Now he was glad he had.

He was about to disconnect the call when he heard a muffled scream on the other end of the line. It was quickly followed by a loud clatter, then nothing.

“Cassidy!”

No answer.

Trace felt his chest tighten. Swearing under his breath, he shoved his cell phone in the pocket of his jeans and floored the pedal on the Hummer, running a red light to get through the intersection. The other drivers honked their horns as they squealed to a stop, but he ignored them. There was no way he was going to let Cassidy die.

Five minutes later, he slid into the parking lot outside her apartment, running over an ornamental fence and a flower bed to come to a screeching halt a few feet from the front door. Jumping out of the Hummer, he ran around to the back and grabbed his duffel bag full of gear. Throwing it over his shoulder, he raced up the steps and charged through the door into the building, scaring the hell out of two women carrying laundry baskets.

“Where the hell are the stairs?” he demanded, not wanting to waste time with the elevator.

The women timidly pointed around the corner.

Trace didn’t thank them as he ran in that direction. He hit the steps hard, taking them hree at a time. Once on the fourth floor, he ran down the hall, checking the room numbers on he doors. When he came to the right one, he didn’t even bother to slow down. Instead, he icked the door in as hard as he could, reaching into his bag for his shotgun as the frame plintered and the door flew open.

He looked left and right as he entered the apartment, but there was no sign of Cassidy or el Vecchio. Trace’s blood ran cold at the scene that met his eyes. The living room looked s if a cyclone hit it. The couch and throw pillows were sliced to shreds, stuffing still floating hrough the air. The coffee table was lying on its side, as were the two end tables, and the amps that had been on them were smashed to pieces along with practically everything ele in the place. Even the walls had been slashed.

“Cassidy?” Trace called.

“In here.”       

Trace followed the sound of her voice until he came to the kitchen. Cassidy was standing in the center of the room inside a wobbly drawn circle of salt, ready to throw a handful of something in his face. She sagged with relief at the sight of him, letting the stuff in her hand trickle out onto the floor. That was when he realized she was holding a big container of oregano.

“Is he gone?” she whispered.

Trace nodded. “Yeah, he’s gone. But I’m getting you the hell out of here anyway.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but simply slung the shotgun over his shoulder by the strap, then walked into the kitchen and swung Cassidy up in his arms.

She put one of her own around his neck. “Is it safe for me to leave the circle?”

“Yes. I’ll keep you safe. Trust me.”

Apparently she must have believed him because she didn’t resist. She cuddled the container of oregano close to her body and leaned against his chest.

He frowned.  “Cassidy, you did great with the salt circle. It saved your life without a doubt. But what are you doing with the oregano?”

She looked up at him with big, blue eyes. “Isn’t it what you used to get rid of ghosts?”

His mouth twitched. “That’s sage and garlic. You can ditch the spaghetti spice.”

“Oh,” was all she said. Resting her head on his shoulder, she let the container of oregano tumble to the floor, then put that arm around his neck, too.

Giving the place one more look to make sure Del Vecchio hadn’t come back, Trace carried her out of the apartment and right passed the alarmed neighbors who had come out into the hallway to see what the ruckus was all about. Trace imagined they got their money’s worth seeing a big guy with a shotgun and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder carrying a beautiful half-naked woman in his arms. He abruptly realized he probably should have taken a few minutes to let Cassidy grab some clothes. But then the lights in the hallway flickered and he decided he could get her clothes later. They were getting the hell out of there.

“Is she being kidnapped?” one elderly woman asked another in a low voice as he and Cassidy passed them.

“If she is,” said the other old woman, “then I want to want to be kidnapped next.”

Any other time, Trace would have laughed, but right now all he wanted to do was get Cassidy someplace safe. Fortunately, he knew exactly where to take her.

Get your copy of GHOST HUNTER at Ellora's Cave!

Watch the trailer below



*hugs*
Paige

http://www.paigetylertheauthor.com
http://paigetylertheauthor.blogspot.com
Coming Soon http://www.jasminejade.com/m-615-paige-tyler.aspx

"Stories so hot, they'll make your cheeks blush!"

CONTEST

*One lucky winner will receive a copy of Epic Award finalist ebook Good Cop Bad Girl

*Leave a comment and be sure to include contact information.

*You must be 18 years or older to enter this contest.

Contest is international and ends March 24.

Firefly Rain
by Richard Dansky
Wizards of the Coast Discoveries (January 8, 2008)

Reviewed by Sandy Rainey

Readers who seek a quick break from vampire fiction while still getting their paranormal fix would do well to check out Richard Dansky's creepy ghost story, Firefly Rain. Dansky sets this modern-day tale near a fictional town that time has left untouched, located in his native North Carolina; a distinct Southern Gothic sensibility thus pervades the novel. Our protagonist is Jacob Logan, a  young man who has left his rural roots behind to seek success in Boston. When a business venture founders, Jacob finds himself at a crossroads in his life and decides to visit his boyhood home to regroup. Jacob returns to his parents' empty house, which has stood unused on the Logan property since their deaths, intending to stay only a short time while he clears his mind and considers his options.

It isn't long before things start going awry. Jacob notices that the fireflies that are so plentiful everywhere else--"Fireflies are how angels find things when they come down from heaven," his mother had once told him--are nowhere to be found on the Logan land. Indeed, the firefly he captures off the property and brings back to the family spread dies at once. Jacob's belongings, shipped separately from Boston, never arrive, destroyed in a freak accident en route. Even odder, Jacob's car disappears from the driveway. The extreme isolation of the Logan homestead makes Jacob dependent for his every need on the ageless, unreadable but preternaturally loyal caretaker of the property, Carl Powell. When Jacob sees his missing car slowly pass the property in a driving rain, he gives chase, glimpsing a heavyset driver he can almost, almost identify. Distraught, Jacob collapses in a muddy ditch and is rescued hours later by the no-nonsense lady police chief of nearby Maryfield, Officer Hanratty.

Hanratty, as inscrutable in her way as Carl, has a few skeletons in her own closet. In fact, all the townspeople with whom Jacob becomes reacquainted seem simultaneously the same as he remembers, yet strangely unfriendly and even secretive. Only the pretty new librarian, Adrienne, seems forthright and welcoming. Jacob strikes up a relationship with her, but the mysteries at the house where he grew up keep accumulating. Why do his father's toy soldiers keep appearing where they couldn't possibly be? From whence comes the snarling, vicious dog that tries to break into the house each night? Most unsettling, why does the deserted Logan homestead seem alive with sound and movement when Jacob is the sole occupant?

Dansky is not a completely polished writer--not yet. But there is something frank and refreshing in his narrative voice that I found appealing; the novel definitely does not read like a hundred others. Dansky's strength is in building suspense slowly and methodically. The most mundane and completely explicable of details, as they gradually pile up, contribute to a creeping and claustrophobic sense of dread. When Jenna, a tough, citified friend of Jacob's from Boston, is introduced toward the end of the book, Dansky reinforces his central theme: the tension between childhood and adulthood, between loyalty to home and family and the desire to break away and make our own way in the world.

I wish he had kept the story smaller and more intimate than it turns out to be in its final pages, but that is a common complaint of mine. Genre writers are always wanting to paint on a larger canvas in order to up the horror-story ante; my impulse is always that what is most personal is often most credible and, therefore, most horrific. No matter: Firefly Rain is, in the final analysis, an atmospheric page-turner of a ghost story that keeps some of its surprises until the very end. Give Richard Dansky's first novel a try--but don't be surprised if you never look at a firefly in quite the same way again.

Sidney Fox on Haunted Lily - Includes Contest

Please welcome author Sidney Fox whose latest book Haunted Lily just came out this November 2nd. In the following essay she takes us through the creative process that eventually lead to the writing of Haunted Lily: The Nightmare Ball

“HAUNTED LILY”

The making of the ultimate ghost story

It happened at night. It always happened at night.

I heard a soft voice whisper my name. It was a female voice. I don’t know how I knew that, I just knew. My eyes opened sleepily and I expected to see my mother, but she was not there. I looked around the shadows dancing on the walls in my bedroom. Through the darkness I could see my Grease poster and Charlie’s Angels dolls spotlighted by a dim streetlight shining in through my open window. My sheer pink drapes blew out gently. It was a warm summer night, but something didn’t feel right.

After a few minutes I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep. Then…I felt an icy goodnight kiss placed upon my cheek.

I shot up in bed. The room was now freezing cold and I saw the shadowy form of a woman standing, or shall I say hovering above my bed. I stared at her translucent face and then let out a shriek. Within seconds my lights turned on and my parents were in my room asking what had happened. I told them through horrified sobs. They sat on my bed comforting me, explaining that there was nothing in my room, it was just my imagination.

I was a happy albeit shy seven-year-old girl. True, I had a very active imagination, something I am very grateful for now, but this was different. It was more than just my imagination, it was there, I sensed it, I heard it…I felt it! It wasn’t something a child could make up. Even at such a young age I knew what I had just experienced was profound. I had no idea who was in my room - but I knew whoever she was, she was there.

I saw the woman several more times throughout my childhood; usually she would just be standing in the corner of my room like she was watching over me. Yet, I can’t say she was a comforting presence - I was completely terrified. When I would see her I would flee from my room in the middle of the night, crawl through the darkness into my older sister’s room and sleep on the floor next to her bed. I would then high-tail it out of her room in the early morning hours before she ever realized I had been there. As I grew older the ghostly woman’s visits became less and less frequent until they stopped completely. And though I never forgot what had happened, life went on and she faded to a distant memory.

When I was a teenager my family moved from New York to Atlanta, Georgia. I was a typical teen, very into music and movies and just trying to get through high school. It was in our new house while preparing for bed one night that I looked up and saw a Civil War soldier standing behind me in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. He was stone faced and weary looking with a scruff of a beard. A musket with a bayonet leaned upon his right shoulder. He looked rather solid, yet when I quickly turned around he dissipated into thin air. Seeing the soldier brought back all those old memories from childhood. A few months later my grandmother who was visiting from New York awoke one night seeing the apparition of an Indian standing at the foot of her bed. Also, the lights in our new house seemed to have a mind of their own. They would turn off and on, usually when one was in the shower, much to the chagrin of my mother who would firmly call out, “Leave the lights alone!” The lights would then generally behave…temporarily. There were plaques all over the very fertile southern land surrounding the house stating the different Civil War battles that had been fought there. The entire area was haunted where so much death had occurred.

From that time on I was completely hooked on anything paranormal. I devoured every book and movie I could find. I fell in love with Anne Rice and her vampires. Stephen King and his troubled writer put in precarious situations by his “biggest fan”. I especially loved his blood-soaked teenage girl, who turned out to be quite an interesting prom date. I loved Edgar’s prose, and Mr. Dickens’ wealthy spinster, Ms. Havisham.

I have to admit I am a big chicken, but the thought of a ghost simply fascinated me. My friends and I would relish chatting with the dearly departed through a glow-in the-dark Ouija board. When asked where I wanted to have my fourteenth birthday, I chose Anthony’s, a reputed haunted Atlanta restaurant. I excitedly walked around the House of Seven Gables, and through the graveyards of Salem, Massachusetts. The dance club my friends and I would hang out at was called the Masquerade, an enormous old mill that had seen its share of death and was said to be overrun with spooks and vampires.

After high school my sister got me a job working at a psychiatric hospital located in an old southern mansion. I really wasn’t prepared to stand witness to some of things I did. It was a locked psychiatric intensive care unit for really disturbed people. Almost daily someone tried to kill themselves; one man got a hold of rubbing alcohol and set himself on fire, and a young woman slashed her wrists with a piece of glass. I was young and seeing the human condition in such a raw way was very frightening, though the experience has become invaluable in my writing.

When I was eighteen I moved to Athens, Georgia, to sing in a band. I shared a big old rundown house on Prince Avenue with several other young people, mostly UGA students. This house was full of activity from furniture moving about under its own accord, to light bulbs popping and exploding for no reason. Jelly filled Mason jars would hover mid air then smash onto the floor. One night my roommate and I watched an older black man in turn-of-the-century clothing float through our room, paying us no attention, and vanish into the opposing wall.

Sadly my band disbanded and I decided to move to Los Angeles in my early twenties to study film production and screenwriting at UCLA. My first job in California was at Paramount Pictures. I started giving tours of the studio to starry-eyed tourists and then worked as a production assistant on various movies and television shows. Paramount is the oldest studio still left in Hollywood and I can tell you from personal experience, it is very haunted.

Late one evening after the days rehearsals were complete, I had to go back into stage 19 to grab call sheets for the next days shooting for the television show I was working on called WINGS. The stage doors were locked, and weenie that I am, I had my friend, a security guard, open the doors and turn on the massive overhead lights. We chatted. Happy our long day was coming to an end. He escorted me down to the set which used to be the stage HAPPY DAYS was filmed on. The soundstage was said to be haunted by Heather O’Rourke, the little girl who played Carol Anne in Poltergeist, and had been on Happy Days during its final season. She died at a very early age and it was said her spirit liked to run across the catwalks high in the rafters above the stage. I don’t know how true all that was, studio folklore I suppose. But as soon as I picked up the papers and said, “Here they are!” all the lights went off leaving us in inky blackness. Thankfully my friend had a flashlight and we were able to find our way back through the darkness. As we were walking out the door I could have sworn I heard the creaking of wood in the rafters above and a soft echoing giggle.

The experience really scared me, but it wasn’t until we were back outside that I realized just how frightened my big burly security guard friend was. He was literally shaking with tears falling from his eyes.

The back of the Paramount lot is attached to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery where I spent a lot of time dining with the dead. Just to get away for a break, I would have some of my meals in the cemetery while prowling the graves of Hollywood legends. One early morning before work, as I was walking alone into the enormous marble mausoleum where Rudolph Valentino rests, I was urged to “GET OUT!” by a very loud, very angry disembodied voice that echoed through the crypts and hallways. That was the fastest I have ever run.

By the late nineties I had begun working for Madonna, writing articles and doing interviews for her ICON Magazine. I had moved in with some friends from the studio and the parties were abundant, especially during my favorite holiday - Halloween. Every year we had a huge Halloween party at our house. Inevitably by the wee hours of the night the stragglers would end up in my small bedroom. One year a good friend of mine, Noel, dressed in a hippy costume, sat at the end of my bed and preformed an impromptu concert with an acoustic guitar. He was a talented, sweet guy who was having a struggle with his own demons. But that night he was having the time of his life performing to the tipsy party-goers who cheered him on.

The following spring I awoke in the middle of the night to find my friend sitting at the end of my bed wearing his hippy Halloween costume and strumming his guitar. He glanced over at me and smiled. I smiled at him and fell back to sleep, believing it was just a nice dream. The next day I went to work as usual, but when I came home one of my roommates was hysterical, crying that Noel had killed himself the previous day and his body had just been discovered. I was stunned and immediately remembered how he had visited me the previous night. I believe my friend came to my room that night, not just to say goodbye, but because it was a place he remembered having such a wonderful happy time. The vision of my friend and his lovely smile will stay with me always.

It was at this time I had my first experience with something known as the “Choking Ghost”. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like I was not alone. I was lying on my back in the darkness when I heard what sounded like several angry voices yelling and laughing at me. They felt so close I could feel the coolness of their breath. When I tried to sit up it felt like I was being forcibly held down. I could not scream, and worse, I could not seem to breathe. I was powerless and terrified. Completely aware of what was happening to me, yet unable to help myself. After what seemed like an eternity my body was released. I have had the same experience perhaps two or three other times, and it only happens when I sleep on my back. It is a truly terrifying feeling and I can assure you I do not sleep on my back…EVER.

As I made my way through life I seemed to have made acquaintances with other people who also had a fascination with the supernatural. My friends and I would infiltrate and ghost hunt every known haunt and graveyard in Hollywood and beyond; the Roosevelt and Knickerbocker Hotels, Tarzan’s abandoned mansion, the Winchester Mystery House, the Queen Mary, Alcatraz, the Vogue Theatre, the Polanski/Tate house on Cielo Drive, the Whaley mansion…and my absolute favorite spookpalace – the Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego. Anywhere ghosts were said to be present, I would find myself drawn to.

In 1999 I fell in love with my husband-to-be, Douglas, who also had a penchance for all things spooky. We moved into a small house in North Hollywood and while Douglas worked at night I would be at the small 1940’s ranch house unpacking. As I stood at the kitchen sink washing some dishes I noticed our two dogs start to growl. From the corner of my eye I saw an old man slowly make his way down the hallway, going past the kitchen door into the back bedroom. I was bewildered. I stood for a moment unsure of what to do, knowing someone was in the house. I grabbed a heavy frying pan and peered into the dark room, then quickly flicked on the light. No one was there and there was no way for anyone to get out of that room. I knew what I saw. My dogs knew what they saw. I sat on the front porch with the dogs, holding the frying pan until Douglas came home some hours later.

In the middle of the night we would hear what sounded like doors slamming shut. But when Douglas would go investigate what had made the noise, he would see that all the doors were closed and locked. Then one night while my sister was visiting and we were all sitting in the living room watching a movie, her eyes suddenly widened and she flew out of the chair she was sitting in and jumped in between Douglas and I, who were sitting on the couch. She told us that someone had been softly petting her head. She slept that night with the light on and refused to let us shut the door to her room.

In speaking with the owner of the house, an older woman I had been friendly with, we quickly found out the house was still inhabited by its long-dead owner, the woman’s father who had had a heart attack and died in the house. His name was Sam and he had no intention of leaving his house; we treated him with respect and he treated us with respect.

That was it – the light bulb moment. I decided to heed the old adage, “write what you know”. All the eerie experiences that I had since I was a little girl came rushing back to me. I got up in the middle of the night and began writing. And always loving a good ghost story, I came up with the idea for the supernatural tale, Haunted Lily – the Nightmare Ball, my debut novel.

I like to think that there is a little bit of my aura in Lily, though I do not believe I have psychic abilities. I think for the most part I am just a receptive person and have been in the right place at the right time. I think in some way we all have the ability to see through the veil separating the living and the dead; it’s just to what degree. I went from a little girl scared of her own shadow, to a person who has wholly embraced the darker side of life…and death. I think it is so important to really live and take chances. Something can be learned from everyone you meet, good or bad.

Since writing Haunted Lily I have met so many wonderful people from all over the world. I found that everyone has a ghost story. Everyone has experienced that uneasy feeling while they’re alone, the feeling that they’re…not alone. I set out to write the ultimate ghost story, reflecting experiences I have had that were undeniably frightening and completely thrilling.

I hope you have a chance to visit Lily’s haunted world.

Hauntingly Yours,
Sidney Fox

For more information – please visit my website – SPOOKPALACE.COM

Haunted Lily – The Nightmare Ball

Book One of the Ghost Memoirs

Reality is shattered for British filmmaker, Darby McGregor, when his beautiful fiancée is tragically killed on their wedding day. After a dark time of mourning Darby is tormented by a horrifying phantom bride in the eighteenth-century church he recently renovated. Is this the spirit of his beloved fiancée or something more sinister?

Darby’s sanity is in question when fate steps in.
Her name is Lily, an enchanted young woman who vibrantly shines through the darkness like a beacon of light for lost souls. Lily has been surrounded by the dearly departed since she was born and has the gift/curse to penetrate the shadowy veil separating the living and the dead. Feeling an immediate connection Lily agrees to be the subject of Darby’s new documentary. However, Darby and his unsuspecting crew are not prepared for this chilling journey through the spirit world.
As they spend time together their bond grows. And when Darby learns of Lily’s tragic upbringing and dealings with dangerous apparitions; he wants nothing more than to protect her. But it turns out he is the one needing protection when Lily’s frightening childhood nemesis returns from the afterworld to claim her.

Ghosts, thrills, and chills drive the story in HAUNTED LILY, a tale sure to scare.

CONTEST

Sidney will giveaway a signed copy of Haunted Lily to one lucky reader.

To enter simply make one comment about this post.

Be sure your email address is included.

Contest is for US/Canada residents only

Contest ends November 18, 2010 EST

Unholy Ghost - Paranormal Book Review

Unholy Ghosts (Downside Ghosts, Book 1)
by Stacia Kane
Del Rey; Original edition (May 25, 2010)


Unholy Ghosts is a dark, mesmerizing tale with a heroine, Chess Putnam, who has always felt different and alone. She stumbles through life and gets through the hours with a wide assortment of drugs. Her only true haven, the one place she feels safe, is at the Church of Real Truth. This is an organization that preaches "there is no god". The Church runs the country since the horrific time when the dead rose and walked the earth destroying the living in their wake.

After a blistering upbringing in a series of foster homes, each one more horrible than the last, the Church took an interest in her because she had the valuable gift of magic. She was shown how to enhance her powers and began working for the Church as a Debunker.

A true haunting is rare anymore now that the church is in control, but there are often people willing to run a a con hoping they can make the Church pay them money. That's where Debunkers like Chess come in. She can feel the power when a ghost is involved and knows how to use her magic to exorcise it. She can also easily spot a hoax.

Chess does her job reasonably well. The pay isn't great but it keeps her supplied with drugs. Too bad her dealer decides to quadruple the amount she owes him and informs her that the only way she can pay off her debt is by doing a dangerous job for him - get rid of whatever is haunting the small airport just outside of town. He needs it for his business.

Terrible, yes, that's his name, is a big, muscular guy with a sacred face and broken nose. He is designated as her body guard. Chess doesn't care much for him but overtime she changes her mind. He is fearless in guarding her even in the face of strong, spine-chilling black magic.

It took me several pages to get into this story, but at some point in the second chapter I became hooked. Chess may not be a character to admire, but she has a deep vulnerability that makes you care what happens to her. The character of Terrible as well as Lex, another fearsome man in her, life are just as vividly depicted. The action sequences, and the plot, are so well done I scribbled in my notes, "at times I feel like I'm watching a 3-D Cinemax movie. I was completely captivated."

Lots of darkness pervades this story yet their are rays of something like hope for Chess and the others. Life may actually be worth living. I can't think of enough great things to say about Unholy Ghosts. It is Urban Fantasy with a difference.

Sequels:

Unholy Magic (Downside Ghosts, Book 2)
Del Rey (July 6, 2010)

City of Ghosts (Downside Ghosts, Book 3)
Del Rey (July 27, 2010)

A Story of Love from the Pen of Maria Zanini

The Scent Of Roses

by Maria Zannini

When I was a little girl, we had a neighbor who used to sun herself by an alley window in our fourth floor walk up in Chicago.

She was dying of cancer and back in the day, when there were so few options, the doctor recommended that a little sun would be good for her.

Our neighbor was a pretty woman, pale and shy. So it often startled me whenever I stuck my head out my window to find her disrobed from the waist up, and sitting on the window sill, her bare back against the warming rays of the sun.

During the twenty or so minutes she sunbathed, her husband would keep her company and play the clarinet. Some said he was once a professional musician. Others said he took up the clarinet again only after his wife became sick. Whatever the story, he serenaded her every afternoon during the short summer months in Chicago.

His devotion to her never waned. And on Fridays when the workweek was done, he always came home with a bouquet of pale pink roses. You could smell them all the way up the stairs.

Sometimes we would hear her moan in the evenings. My mother would shake her head and make the sign of the cross. "Poor woman," she'd say. "I don't see how much longer she can last."

She lasted only a little while longer. By winter she was gone and for many weeks I neither saw or heard my neighbor or his clarinet.

My parents warned us to be more quiet and mindful of our grieving neighbor. When we raced up the stairs, we came to a sudden crawl as we neared the top landing where both we and our neighbor lived. We tiptoed past his door so as not to disturb him.

Once he came out just as I was passing by, and he stunned me when he smiled. It was such a sad smile, and he had aged considerably since I'd seen him last.

Was that what love did to you when the love of your life had gone?

He didn't play anymore and when the well wishers and friends stopped coming by, we didn't see him anymore either. One day, my mother told me our neighbor was moving out and that we would take over his apartment and cut a doorway between the two homes to accommodate our growing family.

I took the room the neighbor lady had used for sunbathing, my very own room for the first time in my life. I set my little dressing table and chair catty-corner from my bed, and on summer nights I would lift the shades on my window and fall asleep as the moonlight flooded the room.

One night, I awoke to the sound of a clarinet. It seemed to come from far away and for a moment I thought I was back in my old room that I shared with my sister.

I squinted at a shadow by my bedroom window until I made out the form of a half nude woman sitting on the sill. On my chair by the dressing table was a man with a clarinet playing softly.

Terrified, I eased out of bed and was nearly at the door when both people turned to look at me. Then like a mist in a breeze, they gently disappeared along with the music. I lay awake the rest of the night wondering what I had seen.

It wasn't until many years later, I learned the man had died not long after his wife. Whether it was an accident or deliberate, I never found out, but I know that he was with her that night in my room, serenading her as he did so many times before.

And it wasn't until that moment that I realized there was something else in that room with us that night. The scent of roses.

It made me smile that even in death, he never forgot the roses.

***
Have you ever seen a ghost? Do tell.

Bio: Maria Zannini is the author of  Touch Of Fire.  In between writing paranormal romance, she homesteads on six acres of land in the middle of nowhere. Feverishly working on two new novels, she hopes to get at least one of them contracted this year.

 Visit me on my blog.  http://mariazannini.blogspot.com/

Or friend me on Goodreads.   http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1572542.Maria_Zannini

 PVN: Maria, thank you for this beautiful love story!

Would-Be Witch - Review

Would-Be Witch
By Kimberly Frost
Berkley Trade (February 3, 2009)

[Reviewed by Melissa A. Palmer]

This is a cute book, the first in a new paranormal series. Tammy Jo comes from a family of witches but she really hasn’t had much of her own power, yet. She begins to cast spells after a family locket containing a family ghost is stolen. She has varying levels of success with the spells. Tammy Jo becomes hunted by werewolves and is caught in a romantic quandary between Zach, her ex-husband, and Bryn, a wizard/lawyer. Her main sidekick is Mercutio, an Ocelot kitten. As an owner of a Savannah cat, Mercutio won my heart immediately. There were also good supporting characters in this book, most notably Steve, the security guy, and the odd couple of Johnny and Rollie.

This book offers a lot to readers. It has action, mystery, romance and the paranormal angle. For the paranormal fans, it offers witches, vampires, werewolves and ghosts. The characters are well written and readers will care about them immediately. This book, while almost 300 pages, was a quick read; I did not want to put it down. It flowed well. The cover is eye-catching too. Tammy Jo is a striking, red head and there is Mercutio on the cover as well. I have already ordered the second book in this series Barely Bewitched Berkley Trade (September 1, 2009); I am a fan!


Reviewed by Melissa A. Palmer

Melissaenglish72@yahoo.com

http://melissasbookpicks.blogspot.com

Internet News of Paranormal Interest 7-24-09

VampChix is a new blog for lovers of vampires started by Michelle Hauf, author of The Devil To Pay (Silhouette Nocturne). Volunteers are needed to help out with the site. I have already put my hat in the ring and have promised to post monthly lists of new vampire releases. So authors, readers, publishers give me a shout of you have any relevant info. paltner@verizon.net.

Read an entertaining interview with Kimberly Frost author of Would-Be Witch (Berkley Trade (February 3, 2009) at Amerkatze's Blook Blog. There is a contest also which ends Sunday July 26. A sequel Barely Bewitched will appear on Sept. 1

Tate Hallaway author of Dead If I Do (Garnet Lacey) has this happy announcement to make. "My fabulous agent just negotiated a three-book deal for a NEW young-adult series. The books as they're conceptualized right now will feature a fifteen year old Saint Paul girl who's father is a vampire prince and her mother's a real Witch!"

Not sure when these books will appear, but I will definitely be watching for them.

Here's something for Dracula aficionados!
"Welcome to Real-Time Dracula--a reimagining/modernization/condensation of the classic horror novel Dracula in the Web 2.0 medium. RTD consists of "tweets" by the 7 protagonists of Dracula, each represented by a Twitter persona."

Being Human begins July 25 on BBC America

I have been looking forward to this series since I read about it maybe a year ago. At that time it was only available on British BBC but now those of us in the colonies can watch it. Here's the scoop: "Being Human is a witty and extraordinary look into the lives of three twenty-somethings and their secret double-lives - as a werewolf, a vampire and a ghost. They struggle to live normal lives, despite their strange and dark secrets." The following video explains the vampire side of things.

Here's a headline from Examiner.com Sadler introduces "Vampire LSA" airplane

"True Blood fans are certainly familiar with the Anubis Airlines from Club Dead which offers ultra secure transportation for its more light-sensitive passengers. However, it would seem that the Sadler Aircraft Company has seen the marketing potential behind the current vampire craze and is planning on announcing its next-generation Vampire LSA at EAA Airventure 2009. Yes, this is an actual company and the Vampire LSA will be a real, functioning aircraft, though its passengers will no doubt be mortal.... Read more

I want one!!


The Vampire Diaries coming this fall to the CW channel.

"Elena Gilbert has always been a star student: beautiful, popular and involved with school and friends. As the fall semester begins, elena becomes fascinated with the mysterious new boy in school, Stefan Salvatore, and she has no way of knoing he is a centuries-old vampire. While Stefan struggles to live peacefully among humans, his brother Damon is the embodiment of violence and brutality. Now these two vampire brothers - one good, one evil - are at war for Elena's soul in the small town of Mystic Falls, Virginia"

Based on the series by L. J. Smith The Vampire Diaries.






Rising From the Ashes

On Paranormality Lynda Hilburn, author of vampire novel Dark Harvest (Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist series), is collecting stories from writers who have had to start their writing careers over.

"I met with a group of authors recently, and the subject of "starting over" came up. They shared some wonderful, inspirational stories about the twists and turns of a publishing career, and I wish I'd asked permission to tape the discussion. It really was very helpful to hear how these successful authors rose from the ashes at some point in their careers. In many cases, the authors in question were certain their careers were over -- that they'd never sell again. If you'd like to send your story to me directly, please send it to:

boulderboomer@aol.com

All inspiration is good inspiration."

Lynda has already begun posting stories from authors such as Brenna Lyons, Susan Kearney, Laura Resnick, etc. Well worth reading!

No Rest for the Wiccan - Review

No Rest for the Wiccan (Bewitching Mysteries, No. 4)
by Madelyn Alt
Berkley, November, 2008

[reviewed by Breia Brickey]

Maggie O’Neill loves her job at Enchantments as much as she loves being Indiana’s newest witch. But when her family needs her, she's still willing to lend a hand—even if she has to reach beyond the grave…

It's a long, hot summer in Stony Mill, and Maggie is busy watching TV reruns, minding the store, and figuring out her love life. Then she reluctantly volunteers to care for her bedridden, oh-so-perfect sister, Mel, and her beautiful nieces. But Mel isn't the only focus of Maggie's attention. There are some strange spirits hanging about the area—and it looks like a job for Maggie and the N.I.G.H.T.S. ghost hunting team.

And even as she tries to deal with the long-dead, Maggie must cope with the recently-deceased. A friend of Mel's loses her husband to a dreadful fall, and the police are calling it accidental death. Maggie's not so sure, and sets her second sights on finding a first-degree murderer…

I am sorry to say that this is the first time I have read anything by this author. I truly wish that weren't the case after reading this book. It was an engaging and enjoyable read. The main character, Maggie O'Neill, seems to be the typical novice paranormal character that is just getting to know what they are really about. She is an empath and as much as she has been learning about herself there are only a few people who actually know this side of her. She seems to be very comfortable with this part of herself and even stands up to a couple of people who think she should let this side of herself go. She is not in control of everything about her life but she is learning to trust what she feels and even to stand up for herself. I am looking forward to finding the three previous books in this series. This book is slightly lighthearted compared to what I normally like but it was interesting and I am sure I will enjoy more books from Madelyn Alt in the future.


Reviewed by Breia Brickey for Patricia's Vampire Notes

Book Contest - The Girl Who Stopped Swimming

Win a copy of The Girl Who Stopped Swimming
by Joshilyn Jackson (Grand Central Publishing, 2009).

"Lauren Gray Hawthorne needs to make things pretty, whether she's helping her mother keep family skeletons in the closet or sewing her acclaimed art quilts. Her estranged sister, Thalia, is her opposite, an impoverished actress who prides herself on exposing the lurid truths lurking behind middle class niceties.

While Laurel's life seems neatly on track-- a passionate marriage, a treasured daughter, a lovely suburban home-- everything she holds dear is threatened the night she is visited by the ghost of her 13-year-old neighbor Molly. The ghost leads Laurel to the real Molly, floating lifelessly in the Hawthorne's backyard pool. Molly's death is an unseemly mystery that no one in her whitewashed neighborhood is up to solving. Laurel enlists Thalia's help, even though she knows it comes with a high price tag.

Together, they set out on a life-altering journey that triggers startling revelations about their family's haunted past, the true state of Laurel's marriage, and the girl who stopped swimming."


Simply post a comment and your name will be entered in the contest. Please be sure I can reach you through email. Thanks to Hatchette Books there will be five winners!
The contest runs from May 10 - May 17.

Note: This contest is restricted to residents of the US and Canada only. And, sorry, no PO Boxes.

Internet Sites of Paranormal Interest April 2009

It Was a Dark and Silly Night by Neil Gaiman and Gahan Wilson. Go to Suvudu.com to see a video made about Gaiman's short story and animated by Wilson. For those of you who enjoyed The Graveyard Book this will be a special treat. The short story was written as an exercise before writing the award winning childrens book. (Actually a childrens book for ALL ages.) Wish I could post the video here. It really is delightful!



Listen to Dracula: the Podcast narrated by Tom Walters. You can listen online at the website or subscribe to it through iTunes. Says Tom, "Think you know the story? You don't. Now you can hear the timeless story of bloodlust and the struggle against evil incarnate from the original unabridged text. Complete chapters available as podcasts."

I listened to the most recent posting which was Chapter 23 of Stoker's classic. The narration was quite good with just the right amount of spookiness.

Welcome to the World of Birch Grove Academy

Read the first 3 chapters of Marta Acosta's YA gothic novel.

Says Marta, "I've decided to share chapters from my young adult gothic novel, The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove, with friends and fans.

"Fans of the Casa Dracula series will notice a few similarities, as well as major differences. My heroine is another lost girl, but Jane is somber and stoic. She's observant and quiet. She faces life without any illusions.

"Her obstacles are formidable and her enemies are unseen. Does small, plain, poor Jane have the strength and heart to overcome them?"





Here is a recent article about author Seth Grahame-Smith. His newly published book, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Classic Regency Romance has been quite a hit.

From the publisher: "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains. "
So begins Pride and Prejudice and Zombies , an expanded edition of the beloved Jane Austen novel featuring all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie mayhem. As our story opens, a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton — and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers — and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead. Can she vanquish the spawn of Satan? And overcome the social prejudices of the class-conscious landed gentry? Complete with romance, heartbreak, sword fights, cannibalism, and thousands of rotting corpses, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies transforms a masterpiece of world literature into something you'd actually want to read."

The article goes on to explain that Grahame-Smith's success has been so great that he has now been commissioned to write a story about Abraham Lincoln, vampire hunter. This one I will have to read!





This is an interesting product. It's called Vampire Lure Neck Cream.

Description: "All natural whole body cream, especially good for the neck. The fragrance will make him bare his fangs.

"This chemical-free cream is hand-crafted on our farm in the North Olympic Peninsula from olive oil, beeswax, and essential oils of lavender, cloves and other secret herbs..."

Sounds rather nice. Maybe I'll give it a try.





Tor Books Announces the April 28, 2009 Launch of Author S.J. Day's New Urban Fantasy Series Releasing Consecutively Over Three Months Starting with Eve of Darkness

Eve of Darkness (Marked, Book 1), $6.99; On Sale April 28, 2009)


Eve of Destruction (Marked, Book 2)
(June 09)


Eve of Chaos (Marked, Book 3) (July 09)