I am all about ghosts and spirits. I can't get enough of ghost stories and tales of hauntings, maybe that is why I wrote Possessed and the Spiritus Series. I just love a good ghost story!

Since my stories are set in my home state of Indiana, I thought I would share some of my favorite Indiana ghost stories!

Story Inn: In the town of Story Indiana, there is the famous Story Inn. It is rumored to be haunted by "the blue lady". When owner Richard R. Hofstetter purchased the inn in 1999, he was at first a skeptic until he began reading through old guest books.  Entry after entry mentioned the strange activities that took place at the inn.  In July of 2008, a photographer captured a picture of a figure looking out one of the windows...This was at a time when the inn was empty.

Willard Library:  In Evansville, there is the story of the "grey lady" haunting the Willard Library. The stories began in the late 1930's when a custodian reported the first sighting of the grey lady. Several employees have encountered the ghost and the police were called out on one occasion by the alarm sounding and saw two ghosts in the upstairs windows. The haunting has gained so much credibility that ghost tours are held there every October and the is a 24 ghost camera set up.

Black Moon Manor:  In Greenfield Indiana, stands Black Moon Manor. Built in 1859 by John Eastes, the house became a small pox hospital in 1892. Nearly 200 people died there and were buried on the property. Eventually the markers were removed, but the bodies remained. There have been several paranormal investigations at the location that have recorded EVP's and other activity. The house has since been demolished.

Whispers Estate:  In Mitchell Indiana, lies the most famous haunted location in the state. It has been featured in several television shows, including the Travel Channel's Most Terrifying Places in America, and several books. The estate seems to have been built in 1894 by Dr. George and Sarah White. Sometime between 1899 and 1901, the house was sold to Dr.John and Jesse Gibbons. They took in abandoned and orphaned children, one of which (a girl named Rachel) set fire to the front parlor and was badly burned, she died two days later, but can still be heard running through the house.  The Paranormal activity includes furniture shaking, voices, strange smells and more.  If you are in to haunted houses, this is one you don't want to miss.

Would you visit a location known to be haunted?  Better yet, have you been to any of these places?

There is a house in Corydon Indiana that I love. It's the house I based the home in my Spiritus Series on and it is my dream home in every sense of the term.  Whenever I drive past it, I always mumble to myself "Hello Alastor's house" and I would give anything to actually live there.

Anyone that has read and followed my Spiritus series knows that  the books are based on a Civil War era ghost (Alastor), haunting the reincarnation of the wife that killed him (Becca). It takes place in Corydon and the house plays a huge role in the first book.

Since I am such a huge fan of Halloween, I also dream up all sorts of crazy decorating ideas for it.  First off, a fake iron fence along the sidewalk, on an old house like that it would just be too perfect!  Next I would half bury some skeletons in the yard just because it wouldn't be Halloween without a few open graves....But, I would have one headstone that would have Alastor's name on it.  Then to add some gore, I would hang a female dummy dressed in a long dress from a noose (since Becca's character died by hanging in her previous life) from the balcony.

On Halloween night itself, I would probably hire some people to dress up as both Union and Confederate soldiers (properly dead and rotting) to jump out and scare some of the older trick or treaters...Maybe even throw in a horse or two.

Do you have a place or house where you dream of living one day?  Do you decorate it in your mind for the different seasons?

Read the First Book in the Series for ♥FREE♥

A love that refuses to die...

"As I watched him vanish into a soft mist that faded away, I knew that he was no ordinary spirit...I knew that he was a dangerous entity that could be in some corner of another realm planning his revenge, but I also knew that I was hopelessly in love with him."

When Becca moves into her ancestral home in Corydon, Indiana, her life takes a puzzling and thrilling turn when she meets the ghost haunting the halls. As the seductive spirit lures her closer and closer, she learns about her own past and starts to understand that some mistakes are meant to last.

Becca McAllister has always been different from other girls her age. Never part of the "in crowd", Becca never really fit in anywhere. When her mother dies and her father moves them to the small town of Corydon, Indiana, Becca didn't expect things to change.

But things do change when Becca accidentally makes contact with a one hundred and sixty year old ghost, Alastor Sinclair, that haunts the halls of her new home.

To Becca, Alastor is a seductive spirit that seems to see straight into her soul. To Alastor, Becca is what he has waited a century for--A second chance.

But the closer they get, the more Becca realizes that this isn't the first time she and Alastor have known each other. Worse still, is she the one responsible for his death so long ago? And if so, did he come back for love or revenge?

Coming November 6th!! 

Every story has two sides...

Alastor truly believed that his life was over the night his wife Becca shot and killed him over a century ago, but now he has returned as a spirit to haunt the reincarnation of his traitorous, murdering wife. Why now? Why Becca after all this time?

When Becca moves into her ancestral home in Corydon, Indiana, her life takes a puzzling and thrilling turn when she meets the ghost haunting the halls. As the seductive spirit lures her closer and closer, she learns about her own past and starts to understand that some mistakes are meant to last.

To Becca, Alastor is a seductive spirit that seems to see straight into her soul. To Alastor, Becca is what he has waited a century for--A second chance. But a second chance at what? Love...Or revenge?

How far will each of them go to rectify the wrongs of the past?

Okay, so with Halloween just around the corner, I thought I'd share two of my all time least favorite horror movies.  Yes, this is the stuff the nightmares are made of, both for acting careers and for that 15 year old version of myself.

Anyone that knows me is aware that I am terrified of clowns and a close second would be my fear of aliens.  Yes, I know that both fears are completely irrational and even I don't believe in the later, but hey, it's my fear and I don't have to rationalize it.  Remember, many of you are afraid of a tiny insect with eight legs, so let's not judge.

Anyway, so here they are, the two horror movies that traumatized me for years and one day will keep a therapist in business.

Killer Klowns from Outer Space

Finally the truth about clowns is out! Beneath their smirky sinister grins and wildly patterned clothes are clever killers from out of this world. The "juxtaposition of their toy-store arsenal and malevolent intent proves to be a tasty combination" (Los Angeles Times) in this killer entertainment that will leave you fearing these big-top creatures for good. A spaceshiplooking like a circus tentlands in a field near a small town, signaling the attack of deviant, red-nosed, balloon-twisting psychos from another world who plan to annihilate mankindby turning people into cotton candy! Luckily, the town's teen citizenry decides to fight back and teach the cosmic bozos a lesson. But these klowns are no klutzes, turning popcorn, peanuts and caramel corn into playfulbut deadlyweapons of madcap destruction and mayhem!

Because neither clowns nor aliens were scary enough on their own!  I know this was supposed to be a comedy, but for someone like me that freaks at the sight of ANY clown, it was hell on earth to watch this!

Communion

Christopher Walken stars as novelist Whitley Strieber in this tense alien abduction thriller. Vacationing at his family's home in the woods, Whitley is awakened one night by bright lights outside his window. The next morning he believes he dreamed of being taken by aliens to a spaceship. As the frequency of these "dreams" increase he wonders: are these encounters just hallucinations, or is this really happening? In desperation he seeks out a therapist who believes hypnosis may expose the truth. Based on Strieber's own experiences, this eerie precursor to the "X-Files" delivers some genuine chills and adds fuel to the debate about whether we are alone in the universe.

Here lies the very reason for my feat of aliens....And Christopher Walken.

October 20, 1862

 

My Darling Becca,

            Fear not, my love, I am alive and well. We are still near Memphis and it is believed that we will spend the winter here. Please, rest assured, the weather is much warmer here than that of home and I am as comfortable as a soldier can be.

            I only wish that I was home with you, by the fire, and that this war was over. To say that I think of you all day and all night would not begin to express my devotion to you. I love you, my darling. I have missed you terribly these past weeks.

            As by now you are aware, we have lost men from this regiment, some from Corydon that I had known my entire life.  I was part of the group that escorted the coffins to the railway and I can honestly say that it a duty I never wish to perform again. Please offer my condolences to their families and tell them that their fallen husbands and sons fought bravely to the very end.

            I have enclosed more money as winter is soon at hand and you will be needing coal and other supplies. Do not worry; I have boots and a warm coat. Please buy as much as you think you will need for the winter and have it locked away in the shed. I do not mean to frighten you, but the rebels could become desperate as the days become colder.

            I wish that I was there to see to your comforts, but alas I am not. Know that if I were, you would not want for anything or have any need to fear the war. I love you my darling and am thinking of you always.

 

Your faithful husband,

Alastor


"I love you my darling and am thinking of you always"...I just love the way Alastor speaks!  So, does that put you in the mood for Possessed?  It does me!

Every story has two sides...

Alastor truly believed that his life was over the night his wife Becca shot and killed him over a century ago, but now he has returned as a spirit to haunt the reincarnation of his traitorous, murdering wife. Why now? Why Becca after all this time?

When Becca moves into her ancestral home in Corydon, Indiana, her life takes a puzzling and thrilling turn when she meets the ghost haunting the halls. As the seductive spirit lures her closer and closer, she learns about her own past and starts to understand that some mistakes are meant to last.

To Becca, Alastor is a seductive spirit that seems to see straight into her soul. To Alastor, Becca is what he has waited a century for--A second chance. But a second chance at what? Love...Or revenge?

How far will each of them go to rectify the wrongs of the past?

It's odd, one thing that I so often read in all sorts of writing books, is that you shouldn't use dreams. Now to me, that's just crazy because so often my dreams reflect what's going on in my life.

In my books, I often use dreams to reflect my character's inner turmoil or deepest fears. In my Spiritus Series, poor Becca dreams of being a corpse as well as dreaming about her former life as Alastor's wife. I wanted to demonstrate that even though Becca was not aware of her past life at first, deep inside, a part of her still knew the truth.

I guess my reason for using dreams so often is the reccuring dream I've had for almost twenty years now. I often have this dream when I'm having trust issues with someone I care about, but unfortunately, it's not as pretty or poetic as the dreams in my books.

The dream always starts the same. It's a hot, humid night and I'm driving around in my old white 1984 Monte Carlo and I'm being chased by little kids on BMX bikes.Now in my hometown, there are a few places where the street is divided by a line of trees in the center and in my dream, I'm on one of those roads and if I drive close enough to these trees, the kids will hit them and stick. Crazy, I know.

So, the whole reason I'm out driving and running away from these kids is because I'm looking for someone (usually the person I'm having trust issues with). So I outrun the kids on bikes and go to this hotel and I open the door to a room and there is the person I'm looking for, sitting on the bed with his back to me. I go to say something to him, but suddenly his head starts oozing goo and melting. I slam the door and run back out to my car and drive off.

Not to be done with the craziness yet, I drive "home" which is now a round glass house (insert the joke about people in glass houses and stones). Inside, there is an invisible man pretending to be a dog (don't ask why I think it's an invisible man pretending and not an actual invisible dog) that barks at me as I go to the staircase.

Now I guess because it was such a humid night, the logical thing to do in a glass house with an invisible guy running around is to go take a shower. So I'm in the shower and I hear someone come in the bathroom, I peek out from around the shower curtain and there is John Couger Mellencamp (or whatever his name is now) with a gun. I go to scream, but he raises the gun and shoots me.

Then I wake up.

So, anyone else have some dream craziness you'd like to share?

Okay, I'm going to fess up to something I hate.  I'll admit it, I haven't read Witches of East End by Mellisa de la Cruz yet.  I saw the first episode of the new Lifetime series and then I went looking for the book.  I always hate to hear about people doing that, it's like doing things in reverse or something.

Anyway, I went looking for the book and when I saw the cover, it really caught my eye.  I know, it super simple, but that's what I love about it.  I really love the beautiful, colorful, covers that are out there, but as you can tell from my Spiritus series, I really get into the simple covers too.

I loved the font for "WITCHES", sort of reflective and menacing with its sharp edges while the rest of the title is smooth and unassuming.  I even love the green eye (I use the same effect on my upcoming Possessed novel with Alastor and Becca's eyes), but what really catches my attention is the tiny black flecks that to me look like crows flying.  Weird, but I like it.

So, was it the cover that made me buy the book?  Probably not, but it definitely didn't hurt.

So, first off, tell me I'm not alone here, do you sometimes discover a new favorite book from a television show or movie?  Please don't leave me all alone in my literary shame!

Second

I know this is a bit off my usual topics, but I've recently come to the conclusion that I am a hoarder of sorts. I don't save cans or collect garbage to the point my house is overfilling (although I should be on an episode of Kindle Hoarders), but I am a collector of useless trivia.

Yes, thanks to Mysteries at the Museum, Mythbusters, Biography channel, and a million other shows and books, I now hold a vast amount of useless information. 

How bad is it? In the past few months, I've been in conversations regarding how to use Vodka for jellyfish stings, the character name and storyline for Elizabeth Taylor's son on a once popular soap opera, Howard Hughes plane crashes, the relationship between F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda, drying a mummy in an oven after a flood, Anne Rice's impact on the vampire culture, and the length and weight of Sea World's orca whale Tilikum.

What bothers me is that I never did that well in school. I fell asleep reading Grapes of Wrath (gave myself a bloody nose over that one) and never really excelled in any of my subjects, but I could map out all the family trees to the V.C. Andrews novels and quote long passages of Gone With the Wind.  It's actually my belief that all the useless information pushed out the important stuff that I was supposed to learn.

Am I alone in this? I would hate to think that I'm the only person that collects all this useless stuff and then vomits it back up into conversations.  You know, things like conjoined twins, the assassinated Russion Royal family, and The Amazing Mr. Blunden just don't come up that often, so why is this crap rolling around in my head?

Is it just me?  Tell me there are others out there that can't remember where they left their keys, but they can name the connection between Clark Gable and Buggs Bunny (yep, I know the answer to that one), or what speghetti and China have to do with each other, or who the last ruler of the Forbidden City was.  Tell me I'm not alone!

Now I have to get back to work...If I could just find my ink pen

I am so excited to reveal the first chapter for Possessed!  I hope you like it.

Corydon, Indiana
 Summer 1878

 
It was after midnight. I could feel the night clinging to my skin as I staggered up the walk. I needed sleep, but my throat was dry and begging for one last drink.

 My home loomed up before me, almost glowing white in the darkness. It was the vision that I dreamed about at night when I slept under the stars in the battlefield. 

Home. I just wanted to survive the war and make it home, and I did...I did...God forgive me...I survived...

 I steadied myself against one of the front columns. Why did I always have to think about the war? It was over. It
was over and I was home. Shouldn’t that be enough?

 I opened the door and fell to the floor inside. At first I just lay there, my cheek against the cool wood, but
then I heard the footsteps in the upstairs hall.

Becca...

I couldn’t let her see me like this, not again. Holding onto the staircase newel post, I pulled myself back up to my feet and lurched down the hall toward my library.


I couldn’t face her yet. I needed a drink...I needed one more drink and then I could go up and face her wrath.

 Maybe I’ll get drunk enough to confess all of my sins...


I lit the lamp on my desk with shaking hands, my throat impatiently burning as a dim glow brightened the room. I held onto the desk for support as I reached for the crystal brandy decanter. The shiny scar between my thumb and finger almost white and everything below it ached. I knew if I closed my eyes, I would be back out on that field, pinned to the ground with a rebel pike through my hand. I knew I would smell my own blood and hear the cries of the men dying all around me.


I just needed a drink...One drink to quiet the sounds of the battle in my head...Just one drink and I could go to bed...


Two drinks later I sat at my desk, staring into the darkness. What was I doing? I had a beautiful wife upstairs, and I was out in the night keeping with whores. I was poisoning myself with the drink and making her hate me...She really was beginning to hate me...


I pushed my drink aside and covered my face with my hands. My stomach churned with sickness, but I swallowed it back. I could still hear the faint roar in my head, craving the amber warmth of whiskey that made sleep so easy, but I remained there with my head in my hands.

 There was noise near the door, the sound of bare feet on the floor and fabric scraping against the doorframe.

Becca...

 I lowered my hands and saw her there, standing in the doorway in her long white nightgown. Her soft brown hair fell in a tangled mess around her face and down past her shoulders. Her eyes were red and her face still streaked with the tears that she had cried.

 What had I done to her? This was my wife, the woman that I vowed to love above all others, and I was breaking her. What had I done?

 I saw the gun then, my revolver weighing down her pale white hand. I wanted to say something, but my parched throat wouldn’t allow the words. She raised it slowly, her hand shaking as she sobbed.


Then came the explosion and a cloud of smoke. A burning pain shot through my chest and knocked me backwards and to the ground. Had I stood? I couldn’t remember.

The floor was cool again under my cheek. My hands went to the sticky wetness at my chest, but it was no use, I could see the blood flowing out of my body and onto the floor.

 “My Becca,” I whispered as the darkness began to take me. “Forgive me.”