Monday, December 31, 2012

Adios 2012: Hello 2013!

I can't complain at all about 2012. It was the most frantic year of my life. Well, 2011 was pretty insane too. But, I met all my goals except for one - having more time for myself and exercise. But, I have put that up at the top of the 2013 list as I move into an amazing phase of my life I hope to share with y'all in coming months and, no, it has nothing to do with romance unless you count being in love with your life path as romance -

Went to some awesome conventions in 2012.  Am having fun hanging with my paranormal community which inspired one of Julie and I's books (below). I identify with the nerds and the ones who don't follow the crowd like sheep to the slaughter, but follow their passions, interests, and talents. I spent some of my time every single day this year helping indie artists without them usually realizing it. I like to see people go indie for art, crafts, writing, music - they can do things with a heart and soul instead of selling out  to the master. I will continue to push indie all the time!


I managed to take a breath now and then and go on some leisurely jaunts this year, like the chili pumpkin festival and a few mini vacations with Julie, my dear co-author and bestest friend who puts up with my antics and asks, "when's the next adventure?" We are truly Ethel and Lucy, and Thelma and Louise depending on the circumstances.



It was the year of the zombie for us, releasing two zombie housewife books. We got to know our zombie community and promote their work in our first zombie book and we got to do some zombie events including the FearCon and the Blogger Virtual Zombie Walk hosted by Zombies Everywhere who took over the event for me henceforth. 



Checked out a cool horror-themed bar in Mesa called Monsterland. It might have to be Julie and I's new hangout.



Went on some cool trips--lots of them and found some neat haunted sites. Did some ghost hunting. Chased the show Finding Bigfoot to Payson for the town hall meeting.  Found some amazing spots and discovered some from our Abandoned Places: Abandoned Memories book are now no longer around.  We are glad to documented abandoned sites while they still exist.











Published even more books -in fact, our "Zombie Housewives of the 1960s" got a Crow Award!



Zombie Housewives of the Apocalypse
Zombie Housewives of the 1960s
Paranormal Geeks
Growing Up With Ghosts
Philia: Sex in Dark Places 
Don't Go There! A Flash Horror Anthology

Two Cafepress shops -

Zombie Housewives
Paranormal Geeks

Although I've been on Bigfoot and UFO and ghost hunts, a town hall meeting for Finding Bigfoot, some awesome conventions, lots of radio show interviews, and tons of Arizona road trips, next year promises to add a LOT more road trips and over more of the country. Expect to see my new series "Chasing Legends" on video where I tell you how to pick a legend, myth or paranormal phenomena and go from researching to chasing it.  I will be including a lot more field notes and practical information about the paranormal, hopefully some awesome interviews, and a lot of sharing of photos and videos from amazing places.  I also have lots of books coming out including Sheriff Kai: Zombie Outlaw Killer (second in the Midnight Arroyo Series after my other book Josiah: Undead Cowboy), Spirit Vessels: Why Some Buildings Are Haunted, Pagan Bloodlust (my horror erotica series), MetaNet (Scifi/Horror), and a few more in the Abandoned Places: Abandoned Memories series where Julie photographs abandoned sites and I do a psychic read of a scene from the past.  This book has been very popular and we hope to do an Appalachian version, perhaps a New Mexico one and one about abandoned cities.

Keep asking the questions of the universe--keep seeking the answers!

Sex and the Single Ghost Hunter: Singles Sites



I'm curious by nature and even more easily amused by social trends. I did not buy a pet rock or a mood ring when they were "in." I did not rush out to buy my Calvin Klein jeans even with a thick-eyebrowed, underaged Brooke Shields telling us nothing came between her and her Calvins. No, I still don't own a cell phone. I feel like I will have finally become part of the Borg collective when that occurs.

So, for my own perverse pleasure, a year ago, I put myself up on a dating site. Oh, don't worry, it was quite anonymous. Still, I wanted to see what the reaction would be and what the dreadful come-on's would be. Oh, they definitely satisfied my need for cheese, total hot oozing cheese. Here's my favorite message that came my way within the first hour I was on the site (oh, and sorry this didn't come with antinausea medicine):

My Sweet Angel, Thank you for the wonderful evening in my dream's what a romantic night as we strolled along the beach line, hand in hand the moon kissng the water's edge smiling down on the both of us in sheer delight.As we gazed in each other's eyes knowing deep in our mind's and in our heart's destiny's finally found us. As i kiss you on the cheek and walk gentlely into the night knowing i had made a friend for a life time.  (Apparently the guy above cut and pastes this ill-written, ill-spelled, dementedly intriguing message to all the ladies, probably in some auto-program so he can sit back and finish his beer with his hand down his pants while he watches wrestling).

I have a tendency when I'm curious about something to poke around and check it out. This singles site was one such thing. I just had to know the shark pool that is "free sex," ahem, I mean "dating."

Okay, so how fucking lazy of a single can you be? The site left you the ability to email within the site someone you're interested in. About three dozen of the emails (came within 2 hours' time) were a subject line of "hi" and nothing in the body of the message. This is like fishing by scattering the surface of the lake with fish food. No sinking a weighted line with a wiggling worm. Oh no, just try to get the most women in one massive emailing. Yeah, I got so intrigued, I wanted to email them back and say "what the fuck was the content of this email??? Was it supposed to be the subject line, because I'm not a dog that comes when you whistle, you fuckwit!"

For purposes of observing the hunt, I put that I was looking for email buddies. Then, I get an email from a dude who says "on your profile, you say you want an affectionate guy, but you're wanting an email partner. How the fuck am I supposed to show you how affectionate I am if I'm emailing you?" I just replied, "I think you email shows it quite clearly."

Another man asked me out for drinks. I told him no, I'm sorry, but right now I just want to keep it on an email level. He says, "well, there's a lot of sharks out there, so I could help you. I know a lot about this singles thing. I'd hate to see someone take advantage of you. You probably should go have a drink with me so I can tell you how to avoid the creeps." My reply was, "Thanks, but isn't that kind of like the wolf training the hens on safety on the farm?"

So, I closed the account.


Admittedly, with a morbid curiosity, yet again, I put myself up a few months ago and lasted all of 20 minutes. In 20 minutes, I received 68 email inquiries. All of them fishing for the new gal who just put up her pic and profile. Of those 68 emails, 60 of them asked me "so, what do you do?" (which was clearly stated in the first line of my bio below my photo). Of those 68 emails, 45 of them started with "I loved redheads!" or "I love long hair." Men were immediately eliminated for those two offenses--not reading my profile and showing in some way that they did, in fact, read it and for wanting a redhead no matter who she was. I also got one man asking me to send him nude shots right away but I don't count him in statistics--an aberration in any survey.

Of those 68 emails, only one of them had the magic line that works one me every time - "You seem like an interesting author. I hope you're having a pleasant day." Simple. No pressure. Just being polite to start off and showed proof of reading my profile.

I did take myself down after 20 minutes and decided that this is not the way to meet the particular kind of nerd, ah, man that I need. Still, I learned a lot about how people use dating sites for hook ups. 
  
I just can't put myself up on a singles site again. I shut down the accounts after my curiosity was appeased. It's dangerous out there. These are our breeding population. Be wary. Be very wary....

Review of Finding Bigfoot


Last night was a 2-hour special from Australia in search of the Yowie, the Aussie equivalent to BF.  They found a good witness who is an expert on biology. Not a bad person to have witnessing a Yowie, but Ranae wasn't sold. Since it was the size of Bobo and the encounter wasn't all that clear, she said she thought the witness was awesome, but the encounter isn't necessarily a Yowie.

BEST LINES
Bobo:  Basically he was my size and my height, so you're saying he was built like a Greek god?
Bobo:  I'm not sure what the Yowie was doing, but I'm pretty sure he was doing something to get some grub.
Cliff:  I'm practically playing patty cake with two of them!
Ranae:  I'm right here you big hairy fella.
Matt: So you and me, birdie, we're camping here tonight.
Bobo:  Ranae's horse is as a Prince fan, purple reins.
Cliff:  This is a Yowie buffet.
Ranae: This is a Yowie bite-sized portion.

They did some nighttime wood knocking. They got a thump back. Bobo decided to put an Aussie drawl on a Yowie call.  Bobo tried to use a Didgeridoo to make some low tones. When the nighttime hunt didn't produce much, they decided to do a town hall meeting. Poor Bobo, a kid had knocked a tooth out on him during one filming of a previous show and then he got a huge cut from a boomerang on this one.

I liked the town hall meeting. Their dialects are so beautiful to listen to and it sounds very similar to American accounts and conditions.  Gutted goats were hanging in a tree without their organs in a scene like "Predator."  Terrain and food sources looked very promising and the untouched land was so vast and tropical. It was ideal for him to hide and hide easily.  Ranae found the forest to be very creepy at night, alive with sounds of lot of creatures.

Bobo went in search of an unusual creature called a Brown Jack. Matt on a solo expedition hopes to attract Yowie with the smell of smoke and cooking meat. He attracts...a bird. A man tells a story of the car shaking when he was sleeping in it.  The car had deep dents on the roof and two huge  footprints on the ground. The team was divided on whether it was Yowie or not.

Bobo, Ranae and Cliff went in search of Yowie in an area where folks were reporting it recently. They got horses and took off.  They tried some knocks and got a response. Cliff tried claps and got good responses. Ranae heard something big moving around her and asked them to bring a thermal so they could see what it was. Cliff looked with the thermal and didn't see anything and then they heard a scream.

They decided to put a radio collar on a kangaroo because the kangaroo preserve is where they are reported around and a potential ongoing source of protein. Bobo thought he heard someone talking on the night investigation tracking the kangaroo.  He said it was a language he hadn't heard before and not aboriginal.

It was good to see them looking for another BF relative in a really different location, but I admit that for a 2-hour special, I would have rather heard more witness reports and less of Matt feeding a bird meat, watching rugby, and playing on the beach. Witness reports are those moments when you want to turn down the lights and get creeped out.

Next week--Washington State -



Sunday, December 30, 2012

Finding Bigfoot Tonight on Animal Planet! 2 HOURS!




I'm stoked! The team is going to Australia in a 2-hour special looking for the Yowie.
Expect my review tomorrow on here and all the best lines from the show - my hilarious favorite part of the review!



Center of the Earth Movies


I have always been fascinated with the idea of going into the Earth and finding another Earth. The original movie, "Journey to the Center of the Earth" was one of my ultimate favorites, but luckily other moviemakers decided to go for the same concept and gave us a bunch of movies for us Hollow Earth nuts to enjoy!

Journey to the Center of the Earth 






There are a lot of versions of "Journey to the Center of the Earth" but because I like y'all, I'll only mention the one worth mentioning--the 1959 version with James Mason and Pat Boone. "An Edinburgh professor and assorted colleagues follow an explorer's trail down an extinct Icelandic volcano to the earth's center." One of my favorites of all time! (STEAMPUNK DELIGHT)


Nazis At the Center of the Earth




"Nazis At the Center of The Earth" 2012 - "Researchers in Antarctica are abducted by a team of masked storm troopers. They are dragged deep underground to a hidden continent in the center of the earth. Here Nazi survivors, their bodies a horrifying patchwork of decaying and regenerated flesh, are planning for the revival of the Third Reich."



The Core



"The Core" is a 2003 movie with Hilary Swank (what was she thinking?) "The only way to save Earth from catastrophe is to drill down to the core and set it spinning again."


At the Earth's Core



This 1976 movie, "At the Earth's Core" was based on an Edgar Rice Burrough's novel. "A Victorian era scientist and his assistant take a test run in their Iron Mole drilling machine and end up in a strange underground labyrinth ruled by a species of giant telepathic bird and full of prehistoric monsters and cavemen." (STEAMPUNK DELIGHT)

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Snallygaster?



You don't think of odd things when you think of Maryland but they are known for a few odd "creatures" like the Goat Man and the Snallygaster.

What is a snallygaster?

Reported in a 1909 newspaper article, a man supposedly was picked up by a winged creature that sucked his blood and dropped him off a cliff.  This area when it was settled was riddled with tales of all kinds of monsters and weird creatures. This Snallygaster was described as, "...sporting a razor-like beak, lethal claws and a single eye in the middle of its forehead, the creature also, for added effect, emitted a screech like “a locomotive whistle.

Lots of legends of the monster's antics grew with the telling including a giant egg being laid and a railroad man being carried away.  What interests me the most is the winged-appearance/blood-drinking aspects that sound a bit like reports of the Jersey Devil, interestingly reported in the neighboring state of New Jersey.

Over the decades, the stories died down but it left some residue - now they have a beer festival named after it - that's when you know you're a legend!

Seeing Faces Everywhere!


(Are you seeing Jesus? No, you're actually looking at a photo of a couple holding their new baby who is wearing a bonnet--looks like Jesus's forehead)

Grant calls it matrixing, but honestly the technical term is:
Pareidolia

(Wikipedia) It is a psychological phenomenon involving a vague and random stimulus (often an image or sound) being perceived as significant. Common examples include seeing images of animals or faces in clouds, the man in the moon or the Moon rabbit, and hearing hidden messages on records played in reverse.

How does this apply to ghost hunting? You ever listen to the weird shit Zak comes up with on his EVP replays??? He is so out there in left field with hearing all kinds of language on his garbled recording flubs that he's kind of starting to worry me. How about the tons of orbs with faces people send in?

It is in human nature to either relate things to faces--a reflection of our own reference as humans and the importance of human faces in recognizing our people, but also in words. We often hear our own name spoken when it isn't. We identify with our name and anything sounding like a voice, we assume is calling us. Humans are rather egocentric that way. Let's look at some cool examples...



Some people see faces in orbs.
...



See a face in this wall?



See a screaming mouth?



I see this old photo of my knees and I see cherub faces with full cheeks, button noses, eyes, and a swath of cherub `fro above...


Friday, December 28, 2012

Ghost Adventures Drinking Game


"Brothers on a Hotel Bed" by Death Cab For Cutie

Tonight's episode is entitled "Do Not Disturb" and it's all about horrible histories in haunted hotels. This is going to include a lot of Zak Baggy Pants trying to bait the ghost chicks, no doubt. I'm up for it. It'll be a cold night and I'm ready to hunker down.

Drinking Game Rules:
1.  Stay home.
2.  Have a sip for every "bro," "dude," "man," every time Zak thinks a ghost touched him, and every time Aaron's mouth drops open in horror.

Tonight's drink?
Kahlua and chocolate milk. Brings back hotel stay memories of making do with what was on hand.

***Another wonderful option for this evening is to turn on a radio show while you're busy working on the computer. There will be a fantastic interview on the Paranormal and the Sacred at 8 pm Central time. Char and Jim are interviewing Philip Booth, the documentary maker, discussing the Watseka Wonder, a fantastic story known as the first possession case in America.

Dale the Doll: The Haunted Antique Shop


Gather around, my follower friends and listen to what Dale the Doll is going to tell you about hauntings and antique shops and especially clowns.

My last home was an antique shop in Chandler, Arizona. It had some pretty freaky things happen at nighttime. You really don't want to know what it's like in an antique shop after hours. It ain't pretty.
The Human is always traipsing around Arizona and other states in search of ghosts. I have to try not to roll my eyes and sigh. If The Human wants ghosts, she could find them in the very store she bought me in.

The first night there, the man whose booth I graced, set me in a kid's rocking chair and then shoved a bunch of baby strollers and old radios around me in some kind of creepy homage to the 50s. I wasn't digging it, but I saw a potential for escape, so I shut my trap and waited.

There was a line of dolls to the left me and I was keeping my eyes on those babes. There was one really hot one wearing a puffy little dress and rosy cheeks. She pretended not to notice me, but you know gals. She was well aware the Dale was in the house.

The lights went out one by one and the big building went dark. I was used to the routine. My owners always put the lights out at night. I liked it that way. It gave me some time to sneak around without being seen. The trick is in remembering the exact position they put you in. You never want the humans to figure out your nocturnal trips.

Well, things didn't go like I planned. The lights went out and the dollies went and hid inside the wooden chest they were sitting atop of. I decided to see what other action I could find. Hell, the last owner had no other dolls. It had been six years since I'd seen another one.

I stumbled over a few stray firetrucks and cars that had rolled into the aisle on their own. That kind of movement from the toys during the night is pretty standard stuff, but they never cause trouble. It seems like certain items are more haunted than others.

I was making my way to the back of this big place when I heard something crying. It sounded like a little baby doll. The newborn looking ones creep me out. I hate those things! Don't get me wrong, those pretty ones with the curl hair and fluffy dresses are fine, but those bald round helpless dolls, they're freaking useless and needy. I wasn't going to help the damn thing, but I thought maybe I could find a pillow and drown out its sounds. No such freaking luck!

The closer I got to the sound, the more it seemed like I was wrong. It was somewhere in the back of the store. I got there and just as I arrived, it went quiet. Disappointed that I'd found a row of old antique clothing and not a dollie in sight, I trekked up the side of the store past the dishes and pocketknives, jewelry, postcards and lamps.

Then I saw it. To this day, I can't think about it without a shiver of fear and a cold feeling in my poly-fiber filled belly. A booth opened up, flanked by two big old scary store mannequins and then inside were shelves lined with clown dolls, one after another, each one of a different degree of scariness.

You want to know why The Human knew to get a clown doll to keep me quiet? Here's the story and it ain't pretty. If you're a pussy about scary things, you better just leave before I share this.

I thought I'd tiptoe past it when one of the mannequins took her foot and nudged me into the booth. Before I could leave, a tricycle rolled up and blocked my way out. One of the clown dolls grabbed me and pulled me in further until all the clowns surrounded me. They laughed this hideous evil laugh that wouldn't stop. They crowded in on me until I was on my knees and begging them to let me go. The mannequins leaned over me and looked down with those fake human smiles that look so insincere.

They laughed and laughed and tossed me around until I was dizzy and confused which way was up. They poked at me and pulled at my talking strings and tore my clothing to shreds. After a time, I just lay there listening to the nonstop chuckling and feeling as if I might just become one of them if I stayed long enough. The first hint of sunlight came though the windows and they all rushed back into place.

I stumbled back to the chair where I had come from. The owner came in and studied me, shaking his head in confusion. He removed all the scraps of my clothing and then, of all the humiliations, he put a baby's christening gown on me. Then, that same day, The Human found me, passed by me a few times. I sent her a signal to get me the hell out of there and she picked it up. It's the ONLY time having a psychic owner is helpful.

Of course, she went to the store and bought me the gay cardigan vest that everyone knows me for. I swear, I think she lives to humiliate me. That's another story. For now, just remember, clowns and evil! Don't ever find yourself in the dark with them. They laugh incessantly and torment you until you're mad.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Victorian Horror Art & Curios

When my son and his fiancee got me this poster for Christmas, I fell madly in love with the art. Then, I went online and found Madam Talbot's Victorian Lowbrow site and fell madly in love all over again!



I have never ever seen a site like this and I bookmarked it immediately for items for me and for my friends. There are tons of buttons that take you to everything from sideshow carnival themes to tattoos, mourning dolls to curios. If you like the show "Oddities," this makes it possible to have that stuff yourself!


This is serious art and a serious artist - Madame Talbot is a purist when it comes to creating her Framed Curio Exhibits in that she makes certain to utilize items that are not gaffs or reproductions i.e. a real human heart, a real human brain, a real human skull, etc. She sews everything by hand using only a needle and thread. Madame Talbot has created many different types of framed curios over the years, using vintage velvets, brocades, lace and antique buttons, her themes always being dark vintage and creepy Victorian.

She does not enlist the use of any "helpers" or machine assistance; hers is purely a solitary creative adventure where you can be absolutely certain that one-of-a-kind item was made entirely by Madame Talbot from start to completion.




I knew that my readers would really delight in this site, so go there and check it out!


Alone In a Haunted House




This is another in my series describing being alone in places people don’t usually like to be alone.  You can find the whole collection of them in my huge short story book, "Don't Go There! A Flash Horror Anthology" in paperback and Kindle on Amazon.

Of course, I was happy that my mother and father went on a trip to England. But, then, it meant my older siblings saw it as an opportunity to leave their 12-year-old sister and go party. I was left to stay home alone. Home alone at nighttime? I liked to think I was brave, but that situation had never presented itself.

A memory flashed into my mind at the time: I was 4 years old and went to bed. I woke up during the night and my sister was not there. I got up and wandered to my parents’ room. They weren’t there. I went to the other three bedrooms. No one was there! I got very scared as I wandered in my flannel nightgown down the stairs. I looked into the kitchen. No one was there. I turned and went into the dining room. I noticed the French doors were closed and covered with blankets. I went and pushed the doors open gently and peered inside. A table was set up with a candle light flickering and a group of people sitting around while a lady called on the spirits to come forward. I didn’t know what this thing was they were doing, I was too young to understand, but the whispering voice, closed off doorway and candlelight made me believe I wasn’t supposed to be there. My mom ushered me upstairs and complained. The other kids were supposed to wake me and take me with them to the cottage out back to have cookies and milk with the spinster who lived there. Apparently, the siblings figured they’d leave me to sleep.

Suddenly, wandering the house with no one around sounded a bit overwhelming.

The sibs bought me some fast food, left it on the table and rushed out of the house as if they knew something I didn’t. I looked across the breakfast room and felt it; complete and utter silence. When had I ever felt that in my overly crowded home? My first plan was to turn on the TV in the music room. I turned the volume way up so I could hear it throughout the house. I turned on the lights in the living room, music room, dining room, all the Waterford crystal chandeliers and all their tiers shined brightly. The place felt livable.

I could do this!

Then, I studied the complete and utter blackness outside the windows. We had no street lights or any signs of life on a moonless night. With all the lights on, I suddenly felt like a silhouette of prey against the windows for anyone hiding in the dark watching me. Our house had no locks on the doors. I shoved a chair under the front and side door and then the one in the music room. Then, it dawned on me there were doors in the library and an unused door in the art room. I got the last of the breakfast table chairs and shoved them under the doors. I had no idea what I’d tell my siblings when they came home late. I figured that I’d certainly still be awake to hear the crunch of their tires on the long gravel driveway in time to remove them.

I got a bowl of ice cream, plopped down on the sofa in the music room and tried to focus on a scary movie. Of all the times to show it, “The Haunting” was on TV yet again that weekend! The last time I had seen it I had trouble sleeping, watching my doorknob the entire night. I flipped the channel and found miserable excuses for weekend TV, but I left it running and went upstairs to my room to call friends.

It was very silent upstairs. My bedroom was on the new corner of the house and has windows looking out both sides. In fact, the window beside the phone was atop of the breakfast room roof. Us kids often times climbed out that window, across the roof and down the walnut tree to sneak out at nighttime. I had done it many times to wander the gardens at night. Right now, that window looked like an opportunity for entry instead of exit. Funny how the vast estate didn't bother me at night, but the house did.

There were well-earned reasons for that fear.

In truth, I had always considered the ghosts to be a constant bunch of guardians wandering the halls, playing mischief, having emotional tantrums upon occasion (much like my siblings, actually). The haunting had always been a shared experience with many others. But, when one is alone in a haunted house, any activity seems to be activated by your own presence. I realized that as I hung up the phone having gone through my entire list of friends to find everyone on sleepovers or busy. I considered calling the boys on the list but then think better of that. If they found out I was home alone, they’d make it scarier by telling me how crazy I was to be alone in that big spooky mansion.

So, I looked around my room and turned on the radio and pulled the shades so the outside couldn’t see me in there. Then, I rethought that because I suddenly felt locked in. I looked up at the transom over the door and for a moment thought about covering it from view. The bedroom I had come to claim always seemed safe because it was part of the new additions to the house and didn’t ever have activity. After years in the middle room where the soldier came to stop at night in front of the radiator, it was admittedly a relief to know I was well and truly alone in my room as I entered the tender private age of adolescence.

I turned up the radio, but then I was certain I heard something outside. What if someone came home early? I raced from my room and down the stairs excitedly, resting at the window in the kitchen where cars parked outside and was met with silence and darkness. The TV was on downstairs, the radio upstairs, the lights were all on and suddenly everything outside seemed so black that I swore the world has gone away and I was on a floating island to doomsday.

Feeling safer outside, I pulled out the chair and went out into the backyard to sit down on my retired swingset. I pumped away in the moist cool night and studied the stars above, trying to reach them with each swing. I looked up at the tall mansion and the lit windows and saw the dining room light flicker as if someone walked in front of the window.

I jumped from the swing and stood there, uncertain what to do.

Part of me wanted to go see if someone was in the house and part of me thought that was stupid. I watched the window a long time before deciding it was a fluke. I entered the house again and locked the door with the chair. I considered my surroundings and realized it was time to strike a bargain. I had done it when home alone before, but that night warranted a firm one. I went into the middle of the house and stood in the dining room.

“I am here alone for a while and I’m scared. If you care at all about how I feel, you won’t do anything to scare me. Will you?” I was not so good at assertion when it came to elders. I decide to play the baby child of the family card. “You have always protected me, so please just protect me, but don’t make a sound or a sight, puh-lease.”

Satisfied by the silent response, I wandered back upstairs to my room. As I came off the top step to the hallway, something to the left made me turn my head and I caught a dark shape just as it stepped into the far end bedroom; the bedroom I avoided the most. I hated that room. It was cold and it felt as if something constantly came in and out of the closet to the doorway. Whenever someone saw a dark man-like figure, he was always dodging into that room. In fact, one visiting relative let out a huge scream when she saw it and never came upstairs ever again.

I knew how she felt.

Stupefied, I stood there with no instinct to duck into my room and lock the door. I was shocked that it showed up like that. I had caught the shadow before making its way fast into the end bedroom, but never so fully. This time, I had seen it completely. It had definitely been man shaped and sized, but dark. I gathered my wits about me and decided to do the brave thing and investigate.

I flicked on each bedroom ligh as I made my way down the hall. I stopped at the far end. The bedroom door was still closed because no one lived in that room anymore. With half the siblings living away from home, we kept it closed off. No one went in there. No one wanted to. And only cold air constantly emanated from it.

My logical mind rattled through the explanations. Why would he disappear? Why would he just jaunt down the hall and into the room and then, poof! What was it about this part of the house? I sensed it when it was my bedroom for a few years. It wasn’t just cold, but it felt as if there was constant energy racing back and forth like a pinball machine. It was exhausting, hard to sleep in, and there was a constant feeling of being watched.

I cleared my throat and knocked on the door. “Please, can you just not come out tonight?” My voice trembled weakly, worrying I had just given “him” the knowledge that I was all alone.

I walked off to my room, locked the door and stuffed my pillow in the transom, turned up the radio, and turned on the bathroom light too. Unable to get “him” out of my mind, I wondered about his appearance. Although he had been seen in the hall and heading into the room, he had not been seen in the room, but no one had been in the room when he was seen going into it, so perhaps he actually did go into the room and not disappear. I thought about the ice cold closet in that room and shivered. I used to keep my clothes laid out on the twin bed rather than use the closet when I had the room. I was certain it was a “wrong” feeling place.

That must be where “he” went--the closet!

A loud clap from downstairs startled me and I turned down the radio, holding my breath, waiting. My mind already imagined footsteps up the stairs and then, not knowing if it was a break-in or the soldier who walked nightly, I looked at the clock and realized I still had a good four hours to go more than likely. I would never fall asleep, but I wanted to be holed up so I could be safe and yet I wanted to know what the hell the sound was downstairs.

Should I have stayed safe without knowledge? Or seek knowledge without safety?


My curiosity won out. I never was good at cowering. So, I turned off the radio, opened the door, making lots of sound as I clomped down the stairway, warning any intruders it was time to go and trying to sound like a big man. I got down to the living room where it sounded like it came from and found nothing. Everything was in place, TV still playing, door propped shut. I walked into the art room, a window-lined room where mother taught art classes. I went through it to the library, opening the double doors and stepped down into the window-lined room with French doors. I studied the bookcases, everything was fine. I went back up into the art room and looked across at the relics display cabinet. Both doors were swung wide open.

I rushed up to it and held the glass doors, opening and closing them several times to feel their weight and find that they were not loose or easy to swing. In fact, if I let them go, they just stayed where I put them. I checked the artifacts; all in their neat rows. The only time we ever had activity in the new additions of the house was near that cabinet. Every other place was just fine and quiet. I closed the doors again and looked around me. The chairs were still stuffed under the handle of the French doors in the library and the small unused door in the art room.

Hairs began to rise on the back of my neck and my arms. Goosebumps formed like a wildfire up my arms and down my legs. Then, I heard it; the very distinct and clear sounds of the soldier’s boots as he climbed the stairs. His toe hit the board of the next stair. He made his ascent without me up there. I couldn’t recall ever hearing it from downstairs. I had always been upstairs when it sounded, except the one time when I was 10 and sat down on the stairs and recorded it. In fact, it usually was rather late at night and it was perhaps only 8:30. I waited the right amount of time to be certain he was done with his rounds and then tiptoed up the stairs, turned the corner, rushed into my room and locked the door.

I would not come out again for anything. One desperate call later, I found a chatty friend and leaned back on the bed like most adolescent girls and gabbed nonstop until my brother’s car pulled up.

It wasn’t until I heard him pounding at the back door that I remembered the chairs! He looked at me kind of funny when I let him in and went around the house removing all the chairs from the doors and putting them back. I expected him to rib me about it. What were older brothers for?

And, like an older brother, he shocked me at every turn when he patted me on the head and said that was a safe thing to do instead of using the opportunity to call me a `fraidy cat.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Bigfoot Diaries: I Am a Gladiator



I understand the hairless ones believe they are on the cusp of "proving" that my kind exists.

Some have called us figments of the imagination or mistaken bears and humans, some form of ape, a caveman, and even an alien.

They assume that we are stupid because we do not carry our tools everywhere in a vehicle that drives us from one place to another. They pity our lifestyle of foraging for food and sleeping in the cold. They relegate us to the category of ignorant animal because we do not wish to live in concrete forests and sleep inside a brick box.

When the humans creep into our territory, we want to laugh. They are so unaware of where they are, what is around them, and how to survive. Perhaps we would not fit into their noisy, dirty, crowded world, but we are masters of ours. We will respect their space and technology if they respect our forests and talents within.

I would ask this; how stupid can we be if it is the year 2012 and the hairless ones are only now getting around to gathering the physical evidence that proves us and unlocks our secrets?

Understandably, in a not so populated region of Africa, the mountain gorilla went unproven into the 20th century because only a few stray villagers ran into them. In this vast country with all its inhabitants and campers, hikers, and explorers, we are rarely glimpsed.

Humans may think we are stupid, but we should be revered like the gladiator for going into the coliseum and coming out alive. We are survivors, we are commandos, we are completely cognizant.



Some Facebook pages to consider following about Bigfoot
North American Giants
Texas Unified Natural Research
Western Kentucky Sasquatch/Bigfoot Research Group
Illinois Bigfoot Research Group


Is Your Psychic a Mentalist?



According to Wikipedia, a cold reading is “a series of techniques used by mentalists, illusionists, fortune tellers, psychics, and mediums to determine or express details about another person, often in order to convince them that the reader knows much more about a subject than they actually do. Without prior knowledge of a person, a practiced cold reader can still quickly obtain a great deal of information about the subject by analyzing the person's body language, age, clothing or fashion, hairstyle, gender, sexual orientation, religion, race or ethnicity, level of education, manner of speech, place of origin, etc. Cold readers commonly employ high probability guesses about the subject, quickly picking up on signals from their subjects as to whether their guesses are in the right direction or not, and then emphasizing and reinforcing any chance connections the subjects acknowledge while quickly moving on from missed guesses.”

Techniques to watch for
(you’ve easily seen TV psychics use these a lot):

Shotgunning” (Wikipedia) “A commonly-used cold reading technique used, among others, by television psychics and spiritual mediums. The psychic or reader slowly offers a huge quantity of very general information, often to an entire audience (some of which is very likely to be correct, near correct or at the very least, provocative or evocative to someone present), observes their subjects' reactions (especially their body language), and then narrows the scope, acknowledging particular people or concepts and refining the original statements according to those reactions to promote an emotional response.


Example:
"I sense an older male figure in your life, who wants you to know whilst you may have had disagreements in your life, he still loved you."

“Barnum Statements”
(Wikipedia) “named after P.T. Barnum, the American showman) are statements that seem personal, yet apply to many people. And while seemingly specific, such statements are often open-ended or give the reader the maximum amount of "wiggle room" in a reading. They are designed to elicit identifying responses from people. The statements can then be developed into longer and more sophisticated paragraphs and seem to reveal great amounts of detail about a person. The effect relies in part on the eagerness of people to fill in details and make connections between what is said and some aspect of their own lives (often searching their entire life's history to find some connection, or reinterpreting the statement in any number of different possible ways so as to make it apply to themselves). A talented and charismatic reader can sometimes even bully a subject into admitting a connection, demanding over and over that they acknowledge a particular statement as having some relevance and maintaining that they just aren't thinking hard enough, or are repressing some important memory.”
Example: "You had an accident when you were a child involving water.”

“The Rainbow Ruse”
(Wikipedia) “The rainbow ruse is a crafted statement which simultaneously awards the subject with a specific personality trait, as well as the opposite of that trait. With such a phrase, a cold reader can "cover all possibilities" and appear to have made an accurate deduction in the mind of the subject, despite the fact that a rainbow ruse statement is vague and contradictory. This technique is used since personality traits are not quantifiable, and also because nearly everybody has experienced both sides of a particular emotion at some time in their lives.”

Example: "I would say that you are mostly shy and quiet, but when the mood strikes you, you can easily become the center of attention."

Perspective: One time, a friend begged me to get a reading after she got one. I humored her. I wasn’t expecting anything extraordinary. Their wasn’t a psychic sensation in the whole shop. I sat down and the woman took my hand and tried the shock factor. “You’re not at fault! You must stop feeling so guilty!” A brilliant technique to make me rush through my mind for anything I might feel guilty about. I gave her credit for technique. Like a good fly fisherman, she cast her line and could have hooked a sucker. Luckily, I expected her to play this game. I not only had no feelings of guilt in my consciousness, but as she spoke, she told me I should consider leaving my boyfriend, he’ll never marry me. (I was married for decades). She proceeded to tell me to repaint the room I painted red (no red in my house-I hate the color). I finally just got up and left while she was in mid sentence. A less savvy person might have replaced "boyfriend" with "husband," and considered "I once thought about painting my room red," anything to make it "fit."

This is not to say psychics don’t exist. I know for a fact that they do, as I myself have skills that I can neither explain or often times control. When you get a reading from a psychic, you need to ask yourself “how specific is this to me, or is it a broad statement that fits many?” “Are they waiting too much for me to respond and lead them in the right direction?” “Is this the kind of thing I might hear from a counselor and adviser?”A good psychic too will have a "serendipity" where they say something like "you should always choose the yellow" and you feel your stomach sink because just that day you were shopping and debating over yellow and blue for a new shirt and not sure which looks better. They have a tendency to say something timely. I personally won't do a reading unless I can turn away from the person and the person says nothing while I'm doing the reading but may take notes if they wish. I don't want a reaction from them that will lead me down a wrong path or dead end and I do not want to read their expressions and postures. That is a sign of someone who is not baiting. In fact, attempt to sit through a reading, looking down at your lap, saying nothing and see how long the psychic can handle it.

Someone tapping into you psychically for a living shouldn’t be asking you to make decisions based on their findings, have you pour your heart out to them so that they know too much of your personal lives and therefore can lead you into thinking they know you so well, or request that you come back again and again because you're getting "closer" to some important knowledge.

I’ll be brutally honest. Anyone making money as a psychic may not have your best interests in mind. It’s a business. One in which you coming back is critically important, just like your counselor or psychiatrist. Your dependence on them assures their income. We don’t have any regulations on psychics, no testing, certification, or a board of examiners like medical professionals have. As a consumer, you need to be educated, suspicious, and cautious. It can be very therapeutic for some folks who need to deal with grief or to see what they are doing wrong in their lives and for the counseling alone it can be helpful, but always be cautious and feel free to leave and not return if you have gotten what you want out of the experience.


***New blog to consider is The Demon Hunter's Compendium that is devoted to the evil and creepy creatures of supernatural legends***

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Monday, December 24, 2012

Lincoln's Ghost




You can’t talk about famous ghosts without mentioning the most beloved one in America; Abraham Lincoln. The haunting of the White House by Lincoln is a favorite story amongst historians and romantics in America. After all, when you have a parent that you trust and you believe is a good and honest person, then who replaces them? We have yet to have a president we regard in quite the same one as the man responsible for stitching America back together again. His early loss makes him an likely suspect to malinger (think of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe). Perhaps we're not ready to get rid of the ideals that put America on the map. But then, again, perhaps we sense that he really is still amongst us...

(From Wikipedia) President Theodore Roosevelt, Herbert Hoover and Harry Truman have all claimed to have heard unexplained knockings on their bedroom doors. What made them think it was Lincoln is unknown. Calvin Coolidge's wife reported seeing on several occasions the ghost of Lincoln standing with his hands clasped behind his back, at a window in the Oval Office, staring out in deep contemplation toward the bloody battlefields across the Potomac. Carl Sandburg, Lincoln's biographer, said he did not see the ghost but "strongly felt his presence" when he stood at this same window during a tour of the White House. Elenaor Roosevelt often sensed someone watching her in the former Lincoln bedroom. Winston Churchill said he stepped out of the bath to the adjoining bedroom and saw Lincoln standing neare the fireplace. Lincoln's ghost made many apparitions during the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration. Roosevelt was (coincidentally like Lincoln) president during war time. Maureen Reagen (President Ronald Reagen’s daughter) said she had seen ghost several times in Lincoln’s bedroom. The Reagen’s dog apparently would bark at the door but not enter. Lyndon Johnson supposedly spoke to the ghost of Lincoln, asking his advice. Senator McCarthy proclaimed that he entered Lincoln’s old office and a bust of the president flew across the room and nearly hit him. (Of course, in McCarthy’s case, Lincoln was a bad aim—-he should have hit him upside the head and knocked some sense into him).

The Roosevelt presidency saw the most activity and many conjecture that it was because he was a president during a wartime. If that were so, Lincoln should have been pounding on Bush’s head to get his attention. Queen Wilhemina of the Netherlands visited during Roosevelt’s presidence and she was awakened by a knock at the door to find President Lincoln there. Why do you suppose he showed himself for some and not for others? Was he a harbinger of some message to beware?

Rapping on bedroom doors was reported by many presidential families. In a place like the White House such a thing would be a common daily activity by servants and the like, so it’s entirely possible that element is a residual memory of the building.

Following Truman’s time in office, Lincoln has rarely been seen. Some wonder if it might be because of massive renovations or perhaps the time period has lengthened from his demise. Still, he has been seen in modern times, only less frequently.

Is this pure romanticism for the man and the sacred place in which these people reside? Is it because earlier generations identified with him more? If so, then Kennedy should have been seen wandering the halls for the yuppie-time presidents.

When I did my study of 50 haunted places, the White House was not a strong contender because it lacked a lot of traumatic history within its walls and the geology was weak. The building’s construction is promising. The thing that might outweigh all other factors is the symbolism of the White House. If a ghost of an average Joe can haunt his home because it was his beloved sanctuary, then surely an assasinated president could linger in a place he felt very protective of and very proud of.

Should we give more weight to the impressive list of witnesses above? Well, here is a bit of proof that may show that Lincoln might have been a man more determined and more sensitive to haunting the White House. This is what he told a dear friend one time of a precognitive dream:

About ten days ago, I retired very late. I soon began to dream. There seemed to be a death-like stillness about me. Then I heard subdued sobs, as if a number of people were weeping. I thought I left my bed and wandered downstairs. There the silence was broken by the same pitiful sobbing, but the mourners were invisible. I went from room to room. No living person was in sight, but the same mournful sounds met me as I passed alone. I was puzzled and alarmed. Determined to find the cause of a state of things so mysterious and shocking, I kept on until I arrived at the East Room. Before me was a catafalque on which rested a corpse wrapped in funeral vestments. Around it were stationed soldiers who were acting as guards; and there was a throng or people, some gazing mournfully upon the corpse, whose face was covered, others weeping pitifully. `Who is dead in the White House?’ I demanded of one of the soldiers. `The president,’ was his answer. `He was killed by an assassin.’”

Lincoln’s life would appear to be quite serendipitious and perhaps that carried over into his passing. Many people note connections between Lincoln and Kennedy. At this site they listed them out:

Lincoln was elected on November 6, 1860; Kennedy was elected on November 8, 1960.
Both had previously been members of Congress. Lincoln was first elected to Congress in 1846; Kennedy in 1946.

After their assassinations, both men were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson - and both Johnsons were born 100 years apart: Andrew Johnson in 1808; Lyndon Johnson in 1908.

Both men were killed on a Friday by shots to the head as their wives sat beside them.

John Wilkes Booth shot Lincoln in a theatre and fled to barn; Lee Harvey Oswald, Kennedy's accused killer, shot from a schoolbook warehouse and then fled to a movie theatre. Both assassins were killed before they could be brought to trial.
Both assassinations were the result of conspiracies (even though the conspiracy surrounding Kennedy's death is still disputed by some).

Lincoln was shot inside Ford's Theater; Kennedy was killed in a Lincoln limousine, made by the Ford Motor Company.

Just as Lincoln foresaw his own death, Kennedy seemed to have a premonition of his death as well. Just a few hours before he was murdered in Dallas, John Kennedy told Jackie and Ken O'Donnell, his personal advisor: "If somebody wants to shoot me from a window with a rifle, nobody can stop it, so why worry about it."

Kennedy also received other psychic warnings about his death. Psychic Jeanne Dixon advised the president that she foresaw his assassination as he traveled through the South. He also received a warning from his secretary that his trip to Dallas could have tragic consequences and urged him not to go. Her name was Evelyn Lincoln.

So, what do you think? Does Lincoln still linger? I have to admit my skepticism with the ideal of beloved figures dying early and haunting, but in the case of Lincoln, there appears to be a kind of alchemy and almost astrological destiny that makes me think…he’s still there.

Review of Finding Bigfoot



BEST LINES OF THE SHOW
Bobo: "(squatch language) uses Native American with, I don't know, some monkey jibberish mixed in."
Bobo:  "Having some crazy chick in the woods isn't as absurd as it sounds."
Bobo:  "Squatches appreciate music and musicians." (see my meme below)
Cliff:  "This place is super squatchy."
Bobo:  "I saw piles of fresh elk scat all over the place. I'm stoked!"


The team went to Northern New Mexico where some thermal of supposed squatch does not impress Ranae who says it could be a person. Bobo mentions his best squatch sighting was there and that it said a word the Native Americans said meant "I am here." Ranae was the lady pied piper, walking the road and making girlie ramblings.  When nothing really happens, Bobo plans to stay the night while the rest go to a town hall meeting.

They pursued a man's story of seeing two tall ones at a guardrail Moneymaker thinks was twins, then a young couple who camped out and saw one walk past their SUV, and then the woman who saw one look into her bedroom window.  They are finding a 7-foot-something Bigfoot in several incidents, believing them to be of the same clan.

Bobo decides to drink tons of water and then pee all over the place.  He drinks 3 gallons and starts pissing around the camp.  They go into a caldera where it seems to be the ideal place given the witnesses and the food sources. They do a lot of howling. Not much of anything going on.  Then, Ranae got something along the tree line that looks upright across the field from them.  It ended up being a small tree retaining heat. Not much of anything in this episode except that Bobo can hold in 3 gallons of water and Squatches appreciate music and musicians....


Don't know, but I think the episode was very poorly edited. Not sure what went wrong. It just kind of felt odd and not right. Luckily, next week is a 2-hour Aussie Yowie delight! I can hardly wait, mate!


Sunday, December 23, 2012

Finding Bigfoot Tonight on Animal Planet


Tonight the F'ing Bigfoot gang heads to New Mexico and the Valles Caldera National Preserve. Just the name "Preserve" alone tells me, it's gonna be pretty "squatchy."

They entitled this episode "Bobo Marks His Turf" and I do believe I need to make a special meme just for this one if it means what it sounds like - -

Expect to read my review tomorrow morning and the best lines of the show highlighted - 




Nain Rouge: Harbinger of Doom


Did you know the City of Detroit has a harbinger of doom?

His name is Nain Rouge.  A small, child-like creature with red or black fur boots and red eyes and rotten teeth according to one witness.  He was said to attack his first settler in 1701. When he shows up, bad things happen from killings to loss of fortune to battles.


(WikipediaFamous multiple sighting occurred in the days before the 1805 fire which destroyed most of Detroit. General William Hull reported a "dwarf attack" in the fog just before his surrender of Detroit in the War of 1812.  A woman claimed to have been attacked in 1884, and described the creature as resembling, "a baboon with a horned head...brilliant restless eyes and a devilish leer on its face." Another attack was reported in 1964. Other sightings include the day before the 12th Street Riot in 1967 and before a huge snow/ice storm of March 1976, when two utility workers are said to have seen what they thought was a child climbing a utility pole which then jumped from the top of the pole and ran away as they approached. More recently, in the autumn of 1996, according to an article in the Michigan Believer, the Nain Rouge was spotted by two admittedly drunken nightclub patrons, who claimed to both have heard a strange "cawing sound, similar to a crow," coming from a "small hunched-over man" who was fleeing the scene of a car burglary. The creature was described as wearing "what looked like a really nasty torn fur coat." Detroit Beer Co., a brewpub in downtown Detroit, has as its signature brew a "Detroit Dwarf" lager, named in honor of the Nain Rouge.
In 2010, a community-based movement began a tradition of a costumed community parade in the Midtown/Cass Corridor neighborhood. Called the Marche Du Nain Rouge, this event is a revival of an early tradition in the legend of the Nain Rouge. At the conclusion of the parade, an effigy of the imp was destroyed, thus banishing the evil spirit from the city for another year. Each year, parade participants and spectators are encouraged to wear costumes so that when the Nain Rouge next returns, he will not recognize the persons who once again ousted him from the city limits and thus will not be able to seek personal vengeance. The 2011 event featured a parade followed by the banishment and a party in Cass Park, drawing hundreds of guests At both the 2010 and 2011 events, an ad hoc organization calling itself The Friends of the Nain Rouge has protested the banishment parade, arguing that the Nain Rouge is not to blame for the city's ills and that considering Detroit's population loss, no one should be banished from the city, particularly those who have been there the longest.






Saturday, December 22, 2012

Chasing Legends!


By now, the long-term readers of GHT have experienced my excitement about all things paranormal from encouraging you to go on adventures and paranormal vacations to publishing the book Paranormal Geeks (on Amazon) with Julie Ferguson. Well, expect 2013 to add something new to the mix. Julie and I are going to go on some amazing paranormal adventures covering all the paranormal realms. We are doing to do videos called Chasing Legends in which we show how we decide on a paranormal legend, research it and go in the field in search of it. We are hoping to ignite curiosity in the readers of our blogs and spark y'all to go find a legend and chase it. Life is about seeking knowledge and adventure, so GO FOR IT! We really want you to go from arm chair paranormal geeks to having these crazy adventures to tell your grandkids about some day. We will share the ones we go on and believe me, we will be chasing the rather mundane legends to some of the most insane ones! Hang on!


Kindle For Your PC or Other Device

I do have a lot of books on Kindle (Amazon). I find people afraid to read electronic versions of books, but oh, they are a delight!

Kindle makes it easy. At the purchase button on the right hand side of the book cover they have a download to your PC option. You can have your books on your Droid, your IPad, your PC, or your Kindle. It's just so easy nowadays. For free, they load the software onto your PC and there you have a wonderful Kindle Reader button. You can purchase Kindle books on your Amazon account and then you pull them up on that Reader button any time, any where. It remembers what you own. There are even free Kindle books all over the Amazon site, so there's no excuse not to be reading. I have my Kindle book I'm reading minimized while I do my writing and work and pop it up when I take a break and read it. I lot it because every time I open the Kindle Reader back up, it remembers what book and page I was on the last time.

You can find my list of books here on Amazon
Sharon Day 

(Josiah: Undead Cowboy, Was That a Ghost? Abandoned Places: Abandoned Memories (Desert Edition), Kickin' Up Dust! (Getting Lost To Find Ourselves), Blogging Changed My Life, Don't Go There! A Flash Horror Anthology) and I also have print versions of the abandoned book, kickin' up dust book, and of course ZOMBIE HOUSEWIVES OF THE APOCALYPSE IN FULL COLOR SEXINESS! 

Just released Paranormal Geeks and Growing Up With Ghosts.

And, if you want to buy some super naughty erotica and want no one to know you're reading it, the PC and electronic devices make the "evidence" easier to hide. I also write by the penname Anna Melissa for my erotica line.



This is my 7-dark erotica stories collection "Philia: Sex in Dark Places," that includes a graveyard, a ghost, a mermaid, a werewolf, a vampire, a shapeshifter, and a clown!


There are no excuses now for not reading electronic books!


Adopt a Baby Zombie



Y'all know I adore indie artists of all kinds, whether they are musicians, oil painters, authors, craftspeople. I truly believe that when you don't have to sell out to what an industry wants of you, you can live to your potential. I found another indie artist I want to promote with an adorable idea; adopt a zombie. Check out the adorable tale of Ghoulina and learn about the unique and individual baby zombies. Adorable!



Friday, December 21, 2012

Tonight Join Me on Mayan End-of-World Radio Show



I'll be on the Paranormal and the Sacred radio show tonight for end-of-the-world craziness. It begins at 9 pm EST/8 pm Central.

Growing Up With Ghosts - For Sale Now!



My newest book "Growing Up With Ghosts," the childhood accounts of myself and my family members in the haunted home I grew up in, is out in print and Kindle on Amazon.

Don't forget Julie Ferguson and I's newly released books too -



Zombie Housewives of the 1960s
This fun book comes in Kindle, black and white print and full color collectible print on Amazon. We took the 1960s and turned them upside down by injected them with a zombie theme and women's roles, social uprising, and political turmoil.  This one won the 2012 Crow Award! You can also find amazingly hilarious logo items in our zombie housewives shop



AND

Paranormal Geeks
This book is our pride and joy. We paid an homage to all things paranormal geeks from the rock stars in the paranormal world to the types of paranormal geeks, degrees, and how they got to be there, with a quiz to find out what kind of geek you are and a geek certificate. Endorsed by Cliff Barackman from "Finding Bigfoot" and Ben Hansen from "Fact or Faked." There are some amazing paranormal geek logo items in our paranormal geeks shop.




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