New Ghost and Fireplace Orbs

  I don't belong to the school of beliefs that says ghosts don't travel. I've known ghosts from all over … the U.S., anyway. I don't recall meeting any ghosts from elsewhere. If I did, perhaps it was in passing, one of those wandering souls I didn't have time to sit down and get to know better. It seems I only have a twenty-four-hour day like everyone else, so that limits my time to pursue a ghost tale.
  Which leads me into saying I do get new paranormal boarders travelling through now and then. Sometimes one will stay around. I do believe ghosts are lonely souls, and they gravitate to somewhere they feel recognized and perhaps welcome. I include the perhaps here because any ghost I allow to hang around is only welcome so long as he or she abides by the rules, the same as Alice demands in my Dead Man Mysteries. If I have time, I'll try to get to know the new ghost and see if he or she wants to cross over. If I don't have time … well, a lot of time I don't.
  I'd been seeing this new ghost often, but he didn't seem to want to sit down and visit, even if I had worked out some extra time. I only glimpsed him: not tall, wearing a white shirt. A definite apparition, not a trick of the eye. Since the first time I noticed him well enough to realize there was definitely someone new here was in October, when The Veil starts to thin, I assumed he had wandered in then. Perhaps he was "scoping out" my paranormal abode. However, I run into so many ghosts, I can't sit down to coax each one into chatting.
  Aunt Belle visits monthly, and during October, she also mentioned the new guy floating around.
  "You see any ghosts here yet?" I always ask her at some point during her visit.
  "Yes, a guy in a white t-shirt," she replied. "But he just sort of blips in and out."
  "Yeah, he's been here a while now. I don't know who he is, either. I thought maybe you'd get some clearer information on him."
  "Nope," she said.
  After she left, this guy kept appearing, even more often than he had during October. The week before Aunt Belle came for her yearly Black Friday visit, I saw him quite often. I recall one evening in our bedroom, I noticed him at least four times in various spots. He didn't confine himself to one room, as the little lady in the kitchen and Marsha, my office ghost, do. He wandered around more like Howard, my Head Ghost.
  Aunt Belle arrived on Wednesday morning, and first she spent some time at her daughter Sammi's house to shop and plan the Thanksgiving meal the next day. I was happy to get out of another cooking marathon. I'd saved a pumpkin pie and pumpkin roll from mine and Sis's cooking spree the previous week, since we'd already had our family gathering. However, I did agree to cook some fresh homemade noodles Thursday morning. Wednesday evening, Aunt Belle came over here, and we rested to prepare for the next day of eating and shopping.
  Since Sis moved into my guest bedroom to escape those cold Minnesota winters, Aunt Belle stays in my office on the daybed here. She came out into the living room after she'd put on her jammies, that frown on her face I knew meant she had encountered something.
  "What's up?" I asked, always interested to see what she finds around here. She has more powerful abilities in some areas than I do, one of them being the fact she sometimes sees ghosts more clearly.
  "There's a really strong smell of cigarettes in that room," she said. "Very strong."
  "Any idea who it is?" I asked. She knew I quit smoking eight years ago.
  "Maybe that new guy," she said. "The one in the white shirt. But I'm not sure." So she hadn't seen him clearly … yet.
  We watched the new Christmas movie I bought for the occasion (Santa Paws2, a wonderful, heartwarming show), then called it a night. The next morning, my alarm woke us at 5 a.m., so we could be out shopping by 7 a.m., when some of the stores opened. As usual, I asked Aunt Belle how she slept. That's sort of our code for: "Did any of the ghosts disturb you?"
  "That new guy was in there. I saw him sitting in the chair beside your table, and I smelled cigarette smoke several times. I think his name is Roy."
  "Did you get an idea of what he looks like yet?"
  "Uh huh. He's short, just a little taller than you and me."
  She was silent for a moment, thinking, I knew, to recall what she'd seen.
  "And?" I finally prodded. "Is he rather chubby? Like Howard?"
  "No," she said. "He's pretty buff, but not over-muscular. And he's sort of balding."
  "Interesting," I replied. "A bit older but he kept himself in shape."
  "Yeah."
  I went in to check my email, and Roy announced his presence with that smell. I also felt his energy, and murmured, "So you're a smoker."
  Smoked, he told me mentally, emphasis on the past tense.
  But we had a busy day, so I hurried through the email, reported the short conversation to Aunt Belle, and we got on the road. We'd promised to stop by Sammi's and see if she wanted to shop with us before she started cooking, but we flat forgot on the first trip. So we went by before we headed to our next stop. Aunt Belle went in by herself, while Sis and I waited in the car. She came out alone … without anyone visible, anyway.
  "Pee-yew," I said when she got in the car. "Everyone in there must have been smoking."
  "No," she denied. "In fact, no one was."
  "Well, you sure brought a load of cigarette smoke back with you. Do you smell it?" I asked Sis.
  "No," she said. "I don't."
  Aunt Belle and I looked at each other. "Roy's coming shopping with us," I said, and she nodded an agreement.
  We smelled Roy off and on after that, so he stayed with us the entire trip. However, after we got home, I noticed another smell.
  "Pee-yew," I said again. "That's Juan."
  Aunt Belle laughed. "You sure are smelling things today. More than me."
  "Well, he's being faint about the fart smell," I assured her. Juan crossed over, but he does still drop by now and then. I guess he decided to get my attention and differentiate himself from Roy, although for some reason, Aunt Belle didn't smell Juan this time.
  Friday night, we were dog tired from our most-of-the-night shopping, so not even a ghost could have bothered us. I didn't have the next experience until after Aunt Belle went home. In fact, it was on Saturday evening.
  Angela is working on a new cover for me, a short story for Christmas called To All a Good Night. It has a ghost in it, too, and I'm aiming to get it up by next weekend, hopefully. But she told me the picture I wanted to use needed something in it, perhaps a fireplace in the background. Since I'd just finished decorating my own fireplace, I offered to take some photos and email them to her. I'm so not the photographer Angela is, and I took quite a few; I counted them, and there are fourteen pictures.
  Number ten came out with some orbs in it. Since the prior nine were all orb-less, and all taken within about three minutes, there shouldn't have been any disturbance to stir up dust … nothing I'd seen. Then I took another picture, and there was a flash of light so bright, it faded the picture nearly white. But only on the screen. When I looked at it on the camera, there was the fireplace, perfectly clear. The three photos after that also at first appeared washed out on the screen, but fine on the picture card. Huh. I didn't have time to manipulate them with the software to see if I'd captured anything else. Maybe later, but there's still a lot of decorating to do.
  Here's the orb photo (a little crooked):

  I'll get To All a Good Night up as soon as Angela finishes the cover. Like me, she's got a whole lot more on her plate now with the holidays on us. But it's fun, especially the shopping!
  Have a wonderful time during the upcoming weeks, but be sure and take out some stress-free time for yourselves. I will, too.
  Boo!
  T. M.

 

The Next Big Thing

As I mentioned in the weekend blog, this is a special edition. Some authors have banded together in order to let folks in on a bit about their writing life and the next book they have in the works.
I was tagged in The Next Big Thing by fellow writer Elaine Raco Chase (https://www.facebook.com/elaineracochase), who writes terrific women's fiction and erotica. I’m instructed to tell you all about my next book by answering these questions and then to tag other authors about their Next Big Thing. So here I go!

What is the working title of your next book?

Silent Prey

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I was kicking around ideas during my writer meetings even during the writing of Winter Prey. One of the members mentioned La Llorona "lay yoh-ROY-nah", an evil Spanish creature. When she lived, her love betrayed her and she drowned her babies. Now she's cursed to walk along rivers weeping and searching for her babies. But I've adapted this idea and made mine different and to fit my story. My monster's name is Nenegean (one who frightens children), and the story takes place in winter in Northern Minnesota. 

What genre does your book fall under?

I call it paranormal suspense.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Jensen Ackles who plays Dean Winchester in the TV show Supernatural could definitely be Keoman. Dilshad Vadsaria would work great for Channing.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

When a reborne monster steals Native American babies in the Northland winter, can Keoman and Channing find them before they die?

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Self-published. I haven't used an agent since 2000.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

This one isn't finished yet. I did about a quarter of it, then decided to finish Dead Man Hand first. It usually takes me about four months to write a book, once I dig in, so it will be early spring when I finish this one.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Well, I'm sort of a cross-genre author, so the most similar book is Winter Prey. The books coming out of this path in m writing stem from real legengs of monsters and wounded protagonists.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

My paranormal suspense books grew out of some encounters I had with evil entities during my ghost hunting.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

There's a wounded Native American male protagonist to die for, and a female protagonist who's running from her own tragic background. It takes a lot for them to learn to work together as they search for the babies.

Here are some lovely authors I’ve tagged to tell you about their Next Big Thing!

Pam McCutcheon/Parker Blue (www.facebook.com/parkerblue) has three identities. She writes zany romantic comedy as Pam McCuthcheon. As Parker Blue, she's the author of the Demon Underground Series, edgy  urban fantasy that spans the gap between YA and adult fiction and includes Fang Me from Belle Books. She also writes fantasy short stories as Pamela Luzier. Busy lady! J

Sharry Michels/Christine Michels (http://christinemichels.com/posts/blog/) is as multitalented as Pam. As Christine Michels, she writes both futuristic and western romance, as well as romantic suspense. Her books are all available as ebooks, and I have it on good authority that she's working on some new books! J

Hope you enjoy this special edition and find some good reads for when you are stretched out on the couch groaning from all the good food.

Boo!

T. M. 

Confirming Paranormal Incidents

  I wish I could give each one of y'all one of my punkin pies. Yes, that's how I spell it. I put in a little extra this or that, and my grandson says Memaw's pies are the best in the world. Naw, he's not prejudiced. Anyway, I am taking time out to write my blog, one of the fun things I do. As my bio says, I will talk ghosts with anyone I can corner!
  This is another cops and ghosts story, but it's one of my favorite experiences. I don't know how anyone could say it's not confirmation that something actually happened, especially if a policeman saw it.
  We were at a tiny little cemetery on top of a hill in an area between The Colony and Ft. Worth that hadn't been developed yet. After dark, of course, probably around ten p.m., and I recall we had a full moon. This was a lovely cemetery, with views far across the countryside. North, we saw only more isolated hills and trees. But on the other three sides, city and subdivision lights covered nearly everything, beautiful in their own way.
  I was still "in training" to develop my psychic abilities, but I was quickly learning what to believe and disbelieve. My teacher had organized the group, and I stayed close to her, listening to her explain what she was sensing and also keeping notes. I also actually experienced the same things as she did once in a while! How cool. I was really enjoying myself. To this day, I love cemeteries after dark, even Goshen, where we are extremely cautious.
  Near the entrance to the cemetery, just off the parking lot, we passed one headstone where my teacher paused and sniffed the air. She looked over at me with a questioning expression.
  I knew by now what she wanted from me. "I smell alcohol," I said. "Beer, or rather, stale beer. I think he was drunk when he died, and drank a lot while he lived."
  She nodded. "I think he died of cirrhosis."
  We moved on, and there was a bench beside one of the headstones somewhere near the middle of the cemetery. My teacher stopped and stared at it, so I did, also.
  I couldn't see her really well, just a misty outline. But she sat there, a little elderly lady.
  "A woman," I whispered instinctively, although I probably wouldn't have scared her. "At least in her seventies or so. I can hardly make her out, but she's there."
  Teacher nodded again.
  We made our way slowly to the rear of the cemetery, then started our return to the front. For some reason, all of us halted about halfway back and turned. Suddenly, there was a huge, bright green flash at the rear of the graveyard! It was that phosphorescent green color and covered at least half of the rear of the cemetery. It lasted at least two or three seconds.
  "What was that?" I asked.
  Teacher only shrugged. "Definitely something paranormal," was all she said by way of explanation.
  I glanced around, and everyone in our small group was right there with us. There was absolutely no one back there at the rear of the graveyard — no one visible, anyway.
  We started onward, then she and I halted again. "Can you hear that?" she asked. "It's hard to make out … something with an 'L.' Maybe a name? Is there a Lawton or Lawly on one of the nearby headstones?"
  I shone my flashlight around, but shook my head. None of the nearby stones had a 'L' name on them.
  "It's important," she said. "Something like 'Law' and then —" she started moving fairly fast. "Come on, everyone. We have to go."
  "What?" I asked as we hurried after her.
  "Someone said the law is coming. The police. We better go up there and meet them, so we can explain who we are."
  That instant, we saw a set of headlights coming up the long driveway to the cemetery. We also passed the grave of the man who smelled of alcohol. Teacher hesitated there, and I also heard it.
  "He's saying that's the law coming up the driveway," I said, and she nodded a confirmation.
  By the time we reached the parking lot, so had the police car. The lot was well lit, but still the policeman was cautious as he rolled down his window.
  "Police," he said, even though we could read the side of his car and see the bubble lights on top, which he hadn't activated. "Can you tell me what's going on here?"
  Teacher went over and explained who we were. The cop was really interested, and he got out and talked to us a while. Then he said:
  "Y'all don't look like the type, but you haven't been setting off any fireworks, have you?"
  "No, why?" Teacher replied.
  "Well, I was driving by on the highway below, and I glanced up here when I saw this huge green flash just above the graveyard. I thought some kids were up here setting off fireworks, so I came up here to check it out."
  There it was: our confirmation. Not only had all of us seen that flash, so had a policeman! After he left, we went to the rear of the cemetery and looked all around. We couldn't find anything that would explain that green flash. I don't know that much about swamp gas, but I doubt we'd find it on top of a hill, anyway. As far as I'm concerned, this was definitely one of the numerous paranormal incidents that keep me so fascinated with the other dimension.
  As to my writing life, right now I'm sneaking in a bit of work on Volume V when I can, but the operative word is "little." This time of year, we even suspend our bi-weekly writers meetings due to the holidays. My wonderful friend Angela Rogers is also doing new covers for some of my romance. I think y'all will like them, if you read romance
  Also, another friend talked me into joining a promotion they are calling: The Next Big Thing. It has some questions and answers about our next upcoming book. Mine, besides Ghost Hunting Diary Volume V, will be Silent Prey. I'll post an extra blog on Wednesday, November 21, and also tell you who the other two authors are. They both have books I'll bet you will enjoy. Plus they'll have some referrals to other authors, and on we go!
  Enjoy your Thanksgiving meal; I know I will! And don't forget the "thanks" part of the day.
  Boo!
  T. M.

More Cops and Ghosts

  Bet you've just been waiting with bated breath for my next installment, huh? Sure. Well, I do have that picture of me in the Jefferson, Texas, City Jail that I use for publicity. That was pretty close to actually being locked up.

 

  I was out in Jefferson doing research for Dead Man Talking, the first of my Dead Man Mysteries. It's set there, and I wanted to be as realistic as possible about how the local law enforcement worked. My husband and I met with a wonderful policeman, Sergeant Donnie Vallery of the Jefferson Police Department. Besides telling us great stories full of information, he allowed us to go back into the four holding cells. I imagine the fact they were empty of prisoners gave us that opportunity, but I didn't argue.

  Immediately, I asked if I could go inside one of the cells, to see what it felt like. He agreed, and even closed the door on me. I'll never forget that clunk. I've read about it in books, but you just can't describe it. Inside the cell were two bunks against the wall, the mattresses covered in ugly, hard green plastic. On the back wall sat a urinal. That's it. There was a small window in the door (see above), and after I stood there taking in the atmosphere (or lack thereof) for a few minutes, lucky for my sanity Donnie asked through that window, "You all right in there?"
  I sighed. "Yeah, I guess so. It's so small."
  "Come over here and stick your hands through the window," he said. Now, I had no idea that he and my husband had been collaborating, but I should have known my husband! And Donnie was male, also.
  I complied, and Donnie snapped the handcuffs around my wrists.
  "How does that feel?" he asked.
  "Really weird," I said.
  Then my husband said to Donnie, "What would you take to lose that handcuff key?"
  I thought Donnie would laugh, but I could see his face, contemplating his answer. "What would you give me?" he asked.
  "Hey!" I called, shaking my bound hands. But they whispered together for a long while, then Donnie sighed.
  "I guess we better let her go," he said.
  "Yeah," my husband agreed. "I value my hide too much to leave her in there any longer."
  So they "turned me loose." It's fun looking back on it, but I sure wouldn't want to really be locked away.
  Another time I had a run-in with the police was at Goshen Cemetery, that cemetery where I won't take anyone unless they agree to wear a protection packet.
  (Let me explain something here. I may be using the word "cop" interchangeably with "police," but I respect all those brave law enforcement men and women who protect us, so "cop" is not used in a derogatory way.)
  Anyway, we were deep inside Goshen when we heard a car pull into the parking lot. A few minutes later, someone with a powerful flashlight entered the cemetery. He walked quickly toward us, keeping that light shined straight at our group. When he got close enough that the light hurt my eyes, I called, "Turn that darn light out! It's hurting my eyes!"
  "Police!" he replied.
  "Oops," I whispered.
  Luckily, Timmy, our equipment tech, took over. "Let me talk to him," he said. "I know most of the cops and they know me."
  Timmy introduced himself to the cop, and a few minutes later, we were deep in a discussion with him about ghosts and paranormal investigating. He even asked us to give him a copy of our diary from that night, which Timmy delivered for him.
  Another time the cops confronted us was October 30, 2012, when we were out at Dry Creek on the night before Halloween. Two cars pulled in this time, and they sat there for a long while, shining their headlights on us. One of our group said, "I guess we better pick up our stuff and leave."
  "Huh uh," I said, although I knew he was probably envisioning our names plastered all over the local paper. "Let them come to us."
  I assumed they were running my tags, but I don't have any warrants out, so I wasn't worried. Finally, they got out and approached us, shining those darned lights at us. This time, I just lifted my hand to shade my eyes, saying (loud enough that I hoped they would hear), "I wish they'd shine those lights down!"
  I guess they heard, or maybe it was just sop (standard operating procedure). "Sheriff's deputies!" they yelled back at me.
  I just sighed. What would be, would be.
  Turned out, they were just as interested as the cop at Goshen in our investigation. They hung around talking to us and watching the ghosts talk back through our flashlights until they got another call.
  Oh, I just remembered another incident, but I'll have to leave that one until next time. For now, I need to get back to work on the web site. I'm also having Angela re-do some of my covers (two on the Diaries, Grave Yarns and Volume II; the rest on the romances). Those are covers I did myself, and I'm not happy with them. Angela does much better work, and she will fix them up for me. I'm also trying to learn to chop out some portions of our investigation dvd's and upload them. So I've got lots to do to keep me out of trouble and away from the eyes of the cops.
  Hope you enjoy reading the books, and if you feel so inclined, leave a review on the site where you got the book. Thanks a bunch!!
  Boo!
  T. M.

Cops and Ghosts

   Who says cops and ghosts don't mix? I've had four experiences with police during our ventures, two of them in cemeteries after dark.
  The first two times, Aunt Belle and I were in Austin. We had decided to take a break from sightseeing and looking around the haunted places to eat lunch. We settled in at a cool Cajun café. It's been a while, and I don't have my notes in front of me, so I forget the name of it. However, it's right downtown. We left our car parked on one of the steep, hilly Austin side streets. I recall I had to turn my wheels into the curb, as well as set my emergency brake, to keep my car from potentially sliding on down into the next street. Also, there were parking meters at each space.
  We had placed our lunch order when Aunt Belle looked across the table at me and said, "Did we put any money in the parking meter?"
  I blanked out and said, "I don't remember."
  Well, a ghost just told me that we didn't. And there's a meter maid heading for our car."
  I jumped up and raced out of the restaurant, down the block and around the corner. Yep, there came the meter maid! I raced up the hill (that was a few years and pounds ago), and stuck some money in the meter as she checked the car right behind mine. She just grinned and winked at me, then went on by. I didn't tell her a ghost had saved me a ticket. I went back and reported to Aunt Belle, and she just nodded, not a bit surprised she had been given a truthful warning by a ghost.
  Later, we wandered over to the Governor's Mansion, which we'd heard was haunted. There was a demonstration close to the mansion, some sort of environmental group. The Texas Rangers (the law enforcement ones, not the baseball team) were keeping the crowd of demonstrators back. We didn't think that would pertain to us, so we walked onward.
  A Ranger came over to us as I was taking pictures of both the mansion and the demonstrators. "Ladies, I'll have to ask you to move on," he said.
  "We want to see the Governor's Mansion," I said.
  "It's closed right now, due to this crowd."
  "Huh," I said as Aunt Belle and I looked at each other in disappointment. We don't like having our plans disrupted, especially by people we don't even know. Well, that's not counting ghosts we haven't met yet.
  I stood my ground for a moment, snapping more pictures.
  "I have to insist you move on down the street," the Ranger said more sternly.
  We walked a few feet away, then I turned for more pictures.
  "I'd hate to have to arrest you two ladies," the Ranger said, this time with his hand on his pistol.
  "Whoops," we both said at once. This time we left without any hesitation! We knew for a fact that if we called our hubs, they'd laugh their butts off and probably let us languish overnight before they came to bail us out. J
  Later, we went to visit the beautiful, historic cemetery in Austin, where a lot of the Texas pioneers and statesmen are buried. We wandered around on foot, but also drove some. At one point, we both sort of looked out the car windows at this nice, paved road we were on. I'll admit, it was rather narrow. Then it sort of hit us both at once.
  "Is this a street or a sidewalk we're on?" Aunt Belle asked in a hushed voice.
  "I think it's a sidewalk," I said in return.
  "What are we doing driving on it?"
  "Don't ask me. I thought it was a street! More important, how do we get off it?"
  I recall bumping down over a curb onto what really was a street through the cemetery. Lucky for us, the Rangers and local police were tied up at the mansion.
  We're a tad more cautious now when we go "tourist'ing," but sometimes we do get sidetracked chatting while we are lookee-loo'ing. I hope we never have to call our SO's to get us out of jail.
  I'll write about the two cemetery incidents next week. In the meantime, I have started working on Volume V. Of course, now we're heading into the Holiday Season, so it's time to start thinking of … yum … food. Sis and I always do a lot of baking and decorating. Plus our other Sis and her husband from Minnesota are coming to Dallas right after Christmas for a conference. They'll stay over New Years Day and the day after to visit with us, so we want the house to look nice. Still, I'll squeeze in writing time.
  I'm also thinking of making a separate volume with my blog entries. I think it would be nice for new readers to be able to have one place to get caught up with my ghost hunting and books. Will see if I can work that in, also. In the meantime ….
  Boo!
  T. M.