Taking Sister-in-Law Ghost Hunting

  Hi, y'all, from wet, windy, chilly central Ohio. Brrrrr. Good thing Penny's had some sweaters on sale. This Texas gal was staying chilly...and not from paranormal cold spots. Not until sister-in-law and I encountered a few, anyway.
  First off, I will be on an internet radio show on Thursday night, talking mystery/thriller books with some other authors. Here are the promo bites the host sent out:
  Hear me - on The Author's Corner, Thursday nite from 8-11 PM EDT at trianglevarietyradio.com - it's Mystery/thriller/suspense nite and my books will kill you in the nicest way!
  Feel in the mood for a bit of murder/mystery/mayhem? Head for The Author's Corner, Thursday nite from 8-11 PM EDT on trianglevarietyradio.com and meet some of the best killer's around – well, for your reading pleasure!
   Hope to "see" some of y'all there. Now for the story of my latest ghost hunt, where I took my sister-in-law Ellen on her first "hunt:"
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There’s a tiny little haunted town on a canal in Ohio called Roscoe Village. It was quite an industrious place when canals crisscrossed Ohio and boats hauled supplies in and out for the settlers. Then a flood destroyed it in 1913. These days, it has been restored as a tourist draw, and many of the former residents from bygone days are still hanging around.

     On April 23, 2012, I took my sister-in-law Ellen ghost hunting in Roscoe Village. I had known previously that Ellen had a measure of sensitivity, but she hasn’t developed it or begun to understand it. We found ourselves with some time on our hands when I was visiting her, and off we headed to see if we could find a few ghosts.
     The first place we entered was called Medbery Marketplace. In the canal boat days, it was a three-story hotel for travelers. Today, the lower floor is a wonderful market that sells all sorts of cheeses and other delicious products. At the rear of the ground floor is a little shop called Captain Nye’s Custard, Coneys and Candy. The two floors above were hotel rooms previously, and now house a plethora of small shops with various and sundry items for sale. A man ghost followed us around in the market, but Ellen didn’t sense him. There were some delicious samples spread about, though, and I’ll admit I was a little more intrigued with my tummy than the ghosts. Still, I’d promised Ellen to try to find a ghost she could experience, so we headed up to the second floor, reached by an outside stairwell.
     As soon as we stepped out the door, I sensed someone. However, Ellen just walked on behind me with no hint that she noticed. The ghost wasn’t pleased about that. She (it was female) shoved over a tin flamingo lawn ornament, barely missing Ellen. She jumped and looked at me as if to say, “What did that?” I told her the ghost wanted her to notice it and was a bit peeved when she didn’t. But we went on upstairs.
     The first ghost I noticed on that floor was male. He followed us around up there, but kept his distance. Periodically, I stopped to see if Ellen could sense anything, but she never did. We finally climbed on to the top floor.
     Here, we encountered quite the determined ghost. She was a young woman, late teens or early twenties. She was about Ellen’s size and height, and she wore a long dress, a somewhat drab gray-green color. She kept insisting that I make Ellen acknowledge her. I kept telling her that I couldn’t do that. During this time, I told Ellen what was going on, but she never sensed the ghost. Finally, I told the ghost that she needed to get close to Ellen and really make her energy as strong as possible. Still no luck…as far as the ghost was concerned. We finally went back downstairs and talked to the shop folks for a while, then walked across the street to a building called The Warehouse Steak and Stein.
     Turned out, at one time years ago, Ellen had worked in this restaurant, in the kitchen. But she told me after we entered that it had changed a lot. A lady manager came up to us, and I told her we were looking for ghosts. She said, “Well, we’ve got some here, so go ahead and look around.”
     “Can we go anywhere we want?” I asked, and she assured us we could.
     We walked around on the first floor a bit, but felt nothing. We climbed more stairs to the second floor, opened a door and entered the Banquet Room. We weren’t there more than fifteen seconds before I knew something very nasty haunted there. I sensed he used to be a canal boat captain, and he had not been a very nice man. Perhaps he had even killed someone. Having Ellen with me made me a little more cautious than usual, so I said to her, “There’s something bad here. He’s male and he’s nasty. I don’t even want to hang around him, so let’s go.”
     Ellen didn’t tell me until later that she had become sick to her stomach and felt ill in that room. She said after we left, she started feeling better. Soon and farther away from the room, she realized the sick feeling was gone.
     “There’s a basement here,” she said to me.
     “A basement?” I said excitedly. “Let’s go.”
     There was a closed sign, but since we’d been given permission to explore, down we went. And glad we were. It was fairly dark, but a few lights shined here and there, as well as some neon beer signs lighting up on the walls. At first, though, I could only catch glimpses of entities flying around. When I would try to focus on something, it would flit off again. I took a couple pictures with Ellen’s digital, but nothing showed up. Finally, I grew tired of their games and decided to leave.
     Before we got to the doorway,  something grabbed my arm. I also heard Don’t go. Ellen was walking a step or so behind me, and I turned. “Did you grab my arm?” I asked.
     She shook her head and extended her arm to show me how far away from me she was. “I never touched you. I’m too far away to do that.”
     Don’t go.
     I propped my hand on my hip. “Well, if you want us to stay,” I said, “then you better quit playing around and show yourselves. Ellen wants to see some ghosts.”
     Within seconds, a mist formed in the far back corner of the basement. I grinned and pointed it out to Ellen. She stared at it for a while and at first shook her head. Then an astonished look came over her face. “You mean that white stuff back there?”
     “Yep, that’s them.”
     The mist grew sharper as we watched. I took a picture, and we got some of the mist in it. We also got a very clear, nice orb on the wall.
     We finally left, with Ellen very satisfied with her fist ghost hunt with me. Later, though, we had another nice confirmation of our ghosts. Aunt Belle is visiting friends in this area, also, and turns out she went into Medbery Marketplace within an hour after we left. We touched base in a phone call that evening and Belle informed me of her experience.
     Belle arrived and told a lady there she was looking for ghosts, and the woman said yes, they had some. But she would not tell Belle where they were.
     “That’s o.k.,” Belle said. “I’ll tell you where they are.” Turns out she confirmed the lady in the long dress I saw on the third floor. We both described her the same way: about Ellen’s size, young, late teens or early twenties. Belle said the dress was blue-green, but agreed it was drab, not colorful. Belle was telling the lady downstairs about the ghost, and the lady replied, “You’re the second person today who saw that ghost.”
     Yep, she was. I was the first one! Same ghost, same place, same description, just different hours of the day. Imagine that!

Boo!

T. M.

Ghostly April Fool's Part Two

   Hope you enjoyed the first part of our fun and spooky April Fool’s adventures. As promised, here are the rest of the happenings:
   The morning of March 31, Belle was in the guest bathroom getting dressed. Looking in the mirror, she felt someone behind her — that uneasy feeling when you just know someone is there — but this wasn’t anyone…real. She didn’t see much of him, but got some impressions. She could tell he was around 15 or 16, a young teen, with light brown hair. He wasn’t quite as tall as her; he came to her shoulder. She’s about 5’5”. She received the name “Vincent,” but he wouldn’t talk further.
    We went to some garage sales that day, one of our fun pastimes. At one, I bought a Native American Mandella, new, with tags still on it, and signed by the artist. I thought it was for my friend Angela’s daughter’s room. Angela is my fellow paranormal investigator, who lives in the house with the portal. A portal we finally were able to close after much trouble, pondering and research. However, that evening I received a somewhat anxious call from a friend and fellow ghost hunter. His aunt out in Colorado was having major, dangerous problems with what sounded like a black witching or some sort of Native American witch. As I started into my office to have a little privacy so we could chat, I saw a large area of white mist. Being busy with the conversation, I ignored it, and it was gone later. I'm not sure if it had any significance or whether I'd just surprised one of my ghosts materializing or de-materializing, which happens now and then. My friend and I talked for a while and I gave him some advice for his aunt. Then the morning of April 1, I was getting the Mandella ready to bless with some consecrated olive oil before I gave it to Angela. My guides told me, “No, the Mandella is not for Angela’s daughter. It’s for your friend's aunt.” So I messaged him to send me the aunt’s address. A couple days later, I mailed the Mandella, and she called with deep appreciation for the gift. She'd been working on defusing the situation, with help from various sensitives, and hoped this would finish the task.
    Last, but never least, as I was getting the olive oil out of my satchel of protections to bless the Mandella, something fell on the floor. I leaned down and picked up what I thought was my favorite watch! I had taken that watch off in our bathroom, located on the other end of the house, the previous night. I assumed "somebody" carried it clear in to my office and put it in that satchel, behind a closed closet door. At least they put it somewhere I would find it, I mused, unlike the time they hid my infra-red thermometer. I didn’t find it for several months. Then one day I opened the bottom drawer on the small two-drawer filing cabinet beside my desk, a drawer I had opened dozens of times and one you had to manipulate just so or it wouldn’t pull out. There lay my thermometer right on top in a basket of various other items I stored there. It still worked, but my watch battery was drained from the ghost who moved it and needed replacing. So I thought. I took the watch to Wal-Mart to get the battery replaced the next day. Imagine my surprise when the clerk informed me this was a wind-up watch, not battery-operated. I looked at it closer. It darned sure was! This was a watch I'd mis-laid at least two years earlier. I loved it for its easy-to-read dial and wind-up ability and could not find another non-battery watch anywhere. Perhaps my ghosts took pity on me and when they returned the infra-red, they put the watch somewhere I would also find it. Once in a while, my ghosts do very nice things, rather than pull jokes.
    During this weekend, Belle and I both enjoyed our interactions with the ghosts who, in turn, seemed to have fun with us. We didn’t have to discipline them even once, just shook our heads and went on about our business, while they continued pulling their spooky pranks…as well as being nice a couple time.
    As always, if you want to read more spooky adventures, you will find "buy" url’s for my e-books on the My Books page. Some of you know I’m also a romance author, and those books are listed there, also. Given my penchant for the supernatural, some of the romances are paranormal! I'm also getting some great writing work done on Dead Man Hand, the third paranormal mystery. I'm not sure if I will make my self-imposed deadline of two months from now, but I'm trying. This is a story set in Cimarron, New Mexico, at the historic old St. James Hotel. Belle and I travelled to New Mexico one spring via Roswell, where we took our first balloon rides. Having seen the St. James on Unsolved Mysteries, we also had reservations there.
    It was a wonderful adventure! The owner of the hotel was somewhat in awe of my being a published author, and I, in turn, was awed by her ownership of this fantastic haunted place. She also believed in ghosts and told us tales of numerous happenings both she and others had experienced. We hadn't been there more than an hour, before she informed us that she had planned on giving the hotel workers the next week off, but since we had made the reservations, she would keep them working. Unless…
    "You wouldn't by any chance like to have the run of the hotel, would you?" she asked. "I could give you the combination for the side door, and you could help yourself to the bar and kitchen. I'll just be next door, at the newer extension we built, and I'll stop in periodically."
    "We would!" Belle and I spoke simultaneously and with the same excited enthusiasm. We couldn't believe our luck. How fun! And it turned out the ghosts enjoyed us as much as we did them. To this day, the St. James ghost hunt is at the top of my list of favorites. You will find that story in my Ghost Hunting Diary Volume IV, which I'll publish just prior to Dead Man Haunt. In the meantime…
    Enjoy the books now available, and BOO!
    T. M.

Ghostly April Fool's Part One

   There is nothing tardy about my resident paranormal boarders! They started celebrating April Fool's Day a couple days early. Last year we had an awesome investigation at Dry Creek Cemetery on April 1, 2011 (url is under my Ghosts tab). This year, my thoughts are it was a combination of Aunt Belle’s visit and the time of year ghosts enjoy tomfoolery.
   Aunt Belle arrived late morning on March 30, 2012. The next day was her great-granddaughter’s birthday, and she always comes in for any sort of celebration for her daughter and grandkids, who live near me. We had quite a few incidents during her three days here, some we both experienced, some only one of us was privy to.
   By the end of her visit, we knew there were two new ghosts in residence: Patrick and Vincent. The first indication was when I saw a mist in the small hallway where my Head Ghost and longest paranormal boarder, Howard,  usually hangs out, right outside our bedroom door. This is also outside the guest bathroom door (now Sis’s bathroom, and she has been having major problems with my “sloo-ies” as she calls them). However, I sensed immediately this wasn’t Howard. Later I saw the mist in the living room and told Belle someone new was here. I gleaned enough about this one to know he was male, young and wasn’t Juan, although he wore a white shirt like Juan.
  Sometime in the early a.m., Belle couldn’t sleep, so she got up out of bed to get the newspaper from the dining room table to read. She brought it back in my office, where she sleeps on the daybed since Sis moved into my guest room. Belle then reached up to turn on the ceiling fan, since it was somewhat warm in the room. Before she could even touch the fan pull, the paper whooshed up from the bed and scattered all over the floor. There was no wind or breeze in the room, and the blinds were pulled down, except for a three-inch space where one fell short on the bottom of an open window. However, we had propped pillows to cover the opening.
   She stood there looking at the scattered paper for a moment, then put her hand on her hip and said, “All right. Now who did that?”
   A man replied: “Well, it’s Patrick!” in a tone that said she should have known who it was.
   I’m not sure, since I haven’t seen him clearly, but it might be Patrick in Dead Man Haunt, my second ghost hunting mystery. He’s the gorgeous naked ghost Twila and Alice deal with in that story, plus I actually met Patrick when we did an investigation at the historic Baker Hotel in Mineral Wells, Texas. Whew! <fanning myself> He was/is magnificent, blond, tanned and muscular. He had just stepped out of a long unused shower stall, totally naked, white towel draped around his neck, dribbles of water running down his chest. Yes, the shower worked for Patrick! He also accompanied me home that night, in order to tell me his story. I allowed this from him, something I very seldom do with ghosts I meet, since he agreed to return to the hotel later. Besides, his story was extremely interesting, and I already knew it was spawning a book.
   We had another “fan” incident the previous day here at my house. I went over to turn on the lights in the ceiling fan in the living room. Turned the switch, nothing. I tried several times, off, on. Nope. I immediately knew what was going on, since it has happened before. I called Aunt Belle’s grandson, David, in to reach up to the twelve-foot ceilings and pull the little light chain. Yep, the lights worked. The ceilings are so tall we need a ladder to reach that fan. David is probably six foot, and he had to stand on the couch to grab the chain. Aunt Belle and I both clearly heard a couple of the ghosts laughing their ghostly heads off about their trick!
   I’ll have more April Fool’s events to tell you about later on this week, since we were on the receiving end of more ghostly pranks. In the meantime, I’ve updated the My Book page with the e-books available as of now. Of course, the Ghost Hunting Diary Volumes I, II and III have true tales of my paranormal experiences and investigations, some involving Aunt Belle with me. There are also two female ghost hunters in Dead Man Talking and Dead Man Haunt who bear a strong similarity to Aunt Belle (Twila) and me (Alice).
   Some readers enjoy little tidbits about how we write, and here’s one: When I started planning Dead Man Talking, I knew the two main characters would be based upon Aunt Belle and me. Natch, since the books never would have evolved in my Muse without the adventures she led me on, starting with Down the Ghost Trail, and the continuing experiences I had. I told Aunt Belle about my book idea and that I planned to be a character called Alice. Then I asked her what name she would like me to use for her character.
   “I’ve always loved the name Twila,” she said. “If I could choose any other name for myself, Twila it would be.”
   Twila she is!
   Enjoy your reading. BOO!
  T. M.