Saturday, December 27, 2014

Two of My Nonfiction Ghost Articles Nominated for Preditors and Editors Readers Poll

Vote for either or both of my two nonfiction articles that had been on  Colonial Ghosts blog this past year, "Stay Where the Ghosts Stay When Visiting Williamsburg and the Historic Triangle Area"  and "No Picnicking in the Haunted Cemetery Allowed!"  Voting through January 14th.

Thursday, December 25, 2014


Merry Christmas or whatever you celebrate, enjoy this poem I wrote, done to the tune of "A  Night Before Christmas."

"A Genre Writer's Christmas"
Pamela K. Kinney

It was the night before Christmas,
And this writer was busy plotting
When all of a sudden--
Her characters came to life!
There was the monster from her novel,
It was chomping on a tasty victim.
The hero appeared, stunning in purple;
Well, that's the writer's favorite color, of course!
What did you expect: white?
He grabbed a sharpened pencil to duel with the fiend
When the heroine popped in midair and dropped down,
Into a container overflowing with paper clips.
Drowning, a clip in her mouth, she cried out for help,
And who do you think rescued her?
Not the hero, oh no!
He was trying to make time with a statue of a gargoyle,
That stood guard over the writer's laptop
For he had a thing for beings made of stone
The monster rushed right over in a flash,
Not to kill her or eat her,
No, with a gentle paw, he helped her up.
And arm in arm, both vanished to the monster's lair
Where in chapter eleven, they got it on hot and heavy—
Wait a moment…did you expect to read the scene?
No, this Christmas poem is rated PG.
The writer just shook her head,
With a click of the mouse, saved the story.
The hero dissipated, no more to be seen,
Well, not until chapter twelve, anyway.
With a sigh, the writer stood, snatching up her coffee cup,
Time to join the family and reality,
The story could wait for another time.
Because it's Christmas after all:
Merry Christmas to all and to all, a magical night!

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

What Ever The Reason for the Season; It's Magic! (Original Christmas Poem)

(Enjoy my original poem--remember it is copyrighted to me, so just share the link with your friends and family, and enjoy. It's my Christmas gift to you.)

 What Ever The Reason for the Season; It's Magic!


Pamela K. Kinney

The magic is just around the corner,
Christmas only happens once a year
It glitters with festive red and green,
Gold and silver tossed in with devil may care!
A mixture of pagan, Christianity, Hebrew, and all other religions
It’s all about love and giving and happiness,
If only we could bottle this magic up
And spray it every day,
Maybe, just maybe, there would be no wars,
Or even hatred or evil.
But at least we have this time
So spend it wisely, with family and friends,
No matter the reason for the season
Jesus Christ, as I believe,
Or pagan gods, even Hanukkah or Kwanza
Peace be with you, and a wondrous magic in your heart.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

The Crazy Traditions Done At Christmas

Christmas has many beautiful and classical traditions. Like decorating the tree or singing Christmas carols, exchanging gifts. But did you know that there are peculiar and wacky ones, too?

A unique tradition takes place in Caracas, Venezuela from December 16th to December 24th. The busy city streets of Caracas close off before 8 AM to any motor traffic and allow traffic on 4-wheelers to use them. It is customary in Venezuela to attend Misa de Aguinaldo (Early Morning Mass) and by closing traffic off to bulky cars and buses, everyone can skate to mass on time.

Another interesting tradition one would never think of having in a million years concerns the Christmas pickle. That’s right! The Christmas pickle! A tradition that has been around for years, a pickle ornament is hidden on the Christmas tree. The first person to find the pickle among all the other ornament receives an extra present on Christmas. The tradition has stories originating from the Spain to Germany.

Pickles are not the only food products for a tradition; there is one that has radish carving. Nativity scenes, conquistadors, dancers, historical and mythological events are sculpted from radishes by Mexican artisans and are then lined the central plaza of Oaxaca on December 23rd and 24th for El Festival de los Rabanos (The Festival of Radishes). It is a one-of-a-kind festival featuring dance, food, and these carved radishes (I wonder if the radishes end up eaten at the end of the festival?).

A spider or web is not unusual on a Ukrainian Christmas tree. There is a folk tale that goes with the tradition.  A poor family woke up on Christmas morning and found their undecorated tree covered in spider webs that shined silver and gold in the morning sun.

Not just New Year’s, but also on Christmas, crackers or bon-bons are  used to celebrate in the United Kingdom and Commonwealth countries. No, I am not talking about the cracker you put in your soup.  The cracker is a cardboard tube wrapped in holiday wrapping twisted at the ends. The person then takes one side of the twisted end, while another holds the other and they pull. With a BANG, the cracker splits and the luckier individual holding the longer end of the cracker, finds a special prize at that end.

In Italy, children go to bed waiting for a magical being to bring presents. In Italian folklore, an old witch delivers gifts and candy to children on Epiphany Eve (January 5th). La Befana is portrayed as an old lady riding a broomstick, usually covered in soot as she enters homes through chimneys. Not unlike the tradition of leaving cookies and milk for Santa, children leave out wine and food for the Befana.

Those residing in Japan have already begun the process of pre-ordering their fried chicken for Christmas. That is right—fried chicken. Unlike the traditional ham or turkey Americans eat during the holidays, those in Japan celebrate by eating fried chicken. The meal ends with a delicious Christmas cake for dessert.

There’s a superstition in Norway that advises households to hide their brooms on Christmas Eve. It is believed that witches and evil spirits will rise from the graves and use the brooms to fly through the sky and create chaos until dawn.  

Now this is an especially bizarre tradition. In the principality of Catalonia, it has become customary to decorate the traditional nativity scene with an extra something, or rather someone. This extra character is known as El Caganer, also known as “the pooper.” The ceramic figure has been that of a shepherd in times past, but today the figure can be whatever personality.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

The Paranormal Investigation at Edgewood Plantation in Charles City, Virginia-Pictures Only, Right Now)

On Friday, December 19, 2014, my husband drove me to Charles City, Virginia, to Edgewood Plantation Bed and Breakfast, for a paranormal investigation.

I had been there twice before, once when I was writing Virginia's Haunted Historic Triangle: Williamsburg, Yorktown, Jamestown, and Other Haunted Locations, and New Year’s Eve 2011 for a paranormal investigation then. Nothing happened to me during the interview, but during the investigation, plenty, including a photo of a ghost dog (maybe two—you decided, since I can not be honest in saying I see two, just the one on the left).

Now for this past Friday's investigation:

                         (Glow or mist on the right side of the dining room
                    photo, not there in others of the room.)

Though it was to be in the 20s later that night, Bill remained in the car to read his new science fiction novel. Two other and I made one team and began on the third floor since that was where I started on New Year’s Eve 2011. Earlier, before the rest arrived and even after, my EMF meter would flash a second light and even a third light in the hallway and in the kitchen especially. I checked to see if not due to an electrical interference, but except for the fire detector, nothing else set it off. Plus the lights did not go on in the same spot the second or third time I tried.

The third floor got two names we could hear from the ghost box (at this time, need to download and listen to all the recording to see what else was said, but not loud enough and due to static could not be heard). At one point, I asked for a tap on the walls to let us know they were with us. A rap resounded on the wall behind me and one of the other two investigators with me heard it too, same time as me.

Others wanted to try the third floor so we left the area and clattered downstairs to the second floor where four bedrooms awaited.  We got an angry man in Victoria’s room, who wanted the “investigators to get out!” I asked, “You do not want us here? Why?” He answered, “I hate it! Yes.” In Lizzie Rowland’s room, he told us to “Go home.”  At one point, in Victoria’s room, an overwhelming sadness overcame me and I began to cry. This was because I asked if he had died in the house (suspecting he was the man who committed suicide (along with a woman earlier-his wife). I called on the little girl spirit who had talked to us too and even giggled, to make me happy. She said, “Yes,” and I was able t stop the crying.

When we went to Lizzie’s room, one partner joined others in another room across the hall, while the remaining one and I joined this woman who had filmed a video of glowing orbs flying through the room. While spirits talked to me through my ghost box, she caught the curtains at the window behind me flapping, as if someone was playing with them. They thought it was Lizzie, but one male entity said the woman spirit was not on the second floor, but elsewhere in the house. I believed it to be the little girl.

                    (Glowing mist between bed's head and dresser.)

The last session of the ghost box and an EVP session happened in the parlor downstairs. We got the little girl ghost and another. They said ten ghosts were inside the house that night. The little girl said, “Three,” but I asked her did she mean how the ghosts were in the house as a male spirit had said ten, or her age, when she passed away was three? I will have to listen to the recording then to see if she said anything.

                              (Photos of the area with a shadow before and 
                     several afterward without any shadow. The ghosts
                     through the ghost box said six were with us--is this
                     all of my ghost box said six were with us--is this all
                     of them and why there might have been so much

                                       (Freaky. I swear I see something of a skull 
                            looking in through the window when I
                            enlarged the photo closer.)

                                          (Photo darker in the hallway, not in others I
                             shot of it from Lizzie's room.)

                                   (I did not see any shadow of half ring there
                                    with my own eyes, as evident in the
                        photo to left)

                                (Even though flash went off, this room remained darkThey
                                 say darkness like this is considered due to spirits.)

                              (Doorway from Parlor to Hallway Went Dark Even With Flash.)

                                       (Orb above piano on the wall.)

My husband and I were on our way home by 1:30 a.m. on Saturday, December 20th.

Rest of the photos-outside Between 1-1:30 a.m. All mist you will see, I held my breath so not to jar the photograph taken. Yeah, something odd I do.

                               (Orb in Pool and Mist above the bathing house.)

                                       (Light mist.)

                                 (What is the ghostly mist trying to do here?)

(Another person and I were taking photos of one field and I turned around 
and took this one. It seemed as if they were close to me.)

                                   (Mist appears to be leaving the top windows to left.)

                                (Mist, plus going close to one window, I suspect a face?)   


                                           (Looks like mist becoming a figure?)

                                   (More mist caught.)                

                                     (Orbs in the photo above and the one beneath.)

                                     (No light lit from the ground in real time, yet this thin line
                                      of light from ground to second-floor window is there in the
                                     photo. I never saw any light. By this time all the lights in the
                                     parking lot were off and very dark. Had to get Bill to come
                                     from the car with a flashlight to guide my way to the car.)


                    (Mist covering the whole side of the house. None in
                the second photo was taken with a second of this one.)

I took three videos, but I couldn't them upload at this time, as Blogger wouldn't do it from my hard drive. *sigh*

Friday, December 19, 2014

Supernatual Friday: The Myths and Story Behind Candy Canes

It is said that the candy cane came by a candy maker in Indiana who wanted to make a candy that would be a witness, so he made the Christmas candy cane. He took several symbols from the birth, ministry, and death of Jesus Christ. He began with a stick of pure white, hard candy, which symbolized the Virgin Birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, It had to be hard to symbolize the Solid Rock, the foundation of the Church, and firmness of the promises of God.He formed the candy in the form of a “J” to represent the precious name of Jesus. It could also represent the staff of the “Good Shepherd.” 
  Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candy maker stained it with red stripes, using three small stripes to show the stripes of the scourging Jesus received by which we are healed. The large red stripe was for the blood shed by Christ on the cross.
These Jesus celebrating candies were then, the story goes, handed out to good children in church or used as a form of identification among Christians when they were persecuted. But none of this is true! Candy canes were not invented in Indiana, since the first reports of hard candy sticks (the precursor to candy canes) come from the 17th century.
Actually, white candy sticks were actually quite common at Christmas. One story says that they turned into J’s because one choirmaster bent them to look like a shepherd’s staff for children during the nativity scene. But there is no evidence that that’s true either. 
In America’s introduction to Christmas candy canes can be traced to August Imgard, a German immigrant who’s credited with introducing the Christmas tree to Ohio in 1847. The National Confectioners Association makes a claim that Imgard “decorated a small blue spruce with paper ornaments and candy canes.” But an article from 1938 points out a ceremony that a different kind of sweet was used.
Ornaments were made of paper, festooned in long chains by the younger members of the pioneer community. Kuchen baked according to a recipe sent from Bavaria by Imgard’s mother, hung upon the tree and served both as ornaments and tidbits. The cookies were colored with brown sugar and the family spent weeks baking them in quantities for the guests. Gilded nuts were other ornaments and inside the gilded shells were warm messages of greeting.
Red-and-white striped candy didn’t show up until around the turn of the century in America. 
Other myths concerning the candy cane:
A sweet treat made for children who behaved in church.
A way for Christians to identify each other during time of persecution.
Whether how the candy cane came to be, now they are as much a part of the holidays as Santa Claus.

Monday, December 15, 2014

Book Cover Revel and Date of Release for Paranormal Petersburg, Virginia, and the Tri-Cities Area!

 Paranormal Petersburg, Virginia, and the Tri-Cities Area will be released August 2015.  And tada!...the cover reveal!

  You can find it here at  Schiffer Publishing  and at Amazon. It will be a trade paperback like my other nonfiction ghost books, have 58 images and will be $16.99.  ISBN13: 9780764349423

Book Blurb:
Travel to Petersburg, Virginia, and the surrounding areas of Colonial Heights, Hopewell, Prince George, Dinwiddie, and nearby Ettrick-Matoaca, Enon, and Chester to discover what spirits, monsters, UFOs, and legends await the unwary. Why are the Union and Confederate spirits still fighting the Civil War in the battlefields? Who is the lady in blue who haunts Weston Plantation House? Learn what the phantoms at Peter Jones Trading Post will do to keep from being photographed. Drink tea with runaway slaves still hiding on the top floor above the Blue Willow Tea Room. Are Edgar Allan Poe and his bride still on their honeymoon at Hiram Haines Coffee and Ale House? Why does the Goatman stalk young lovers? Meet the ghosts of Violet Bank Museum that greet guests at the house. Hauntingly active as they share space with the living, the dead refuse to give up their undead residency.

Friday, December 12, 2014

Supernatural Friday: By Midnight (Free Short Story)

Enjoy my original short Christmas horror tale. It is copyrighted, so please just share the link with your friends so they can come and read it here.
By Midnight (Copyright by Pamela K. Kinney)

You better watch out, you better not cr. . . .

A strange jabbering awoke her from her nightmare. Mrs. Piers sat up and switched on the lamp on the bedstead next to her bed. Light flowed over her and the bed, banishing the darkness back to the corners of her bedroom. The only other light came from moonbeams stretching fingers through the glass of her bedroom window.

Nothing. Must have been a revenant from the nightmare. She stared at the clock. Shoot! She’d overslept. The woman leaped out of bed, showered, and dressed in her custodial uniform.

It was Christmas Eve, but that didn’t matter, as she was scheduled to work tonight. It was  the only way she was able to get Christmas day off. As she walked into the eat-in kitchen, her daughter, Jenny brought  bowls of chicken noodle soup to the table. Both sat and began to eat, though Jenny only ate a few spoonfuls of soup.

Mrs. Piers lost her husband a year ago and had to go to work to pay the mortgage on the house and to support both her and Jenny. Luckily, she saw the ad for someone needed to clean the local hospital during third shift and when she applied, she got it. That meant leaving her daughter alone in the house at night. A pretty teenage girl going through changes due to puberty could get into trouble, at least that's what her friends told her. But Jenny had proved them wrong, as she never gotten into trouble.

Tonight though was Christmas Eve. Jenny promised she would go to bed early after watching It's A Wonderful Life on TV, as she admitted to feeling ill all day. Jenny handed Mrs. Piers her purse and bagged lunch, and followed her mother to the front door.

Mrs. Piers couldn't put her finger on why she didn't want to leave Jenny alone tonight as usual. “I feel uneasy about leaving you alone tonight.”

“Goodnight, Mom.” Jenny opened the door. “I’ll make sure the place is locked up tight. Geesh! I’m sixteen, not a little kid.” She shook her head. “What do you think could happen?”

Mrs. Piers reminded her. “There have been those people that vanished.”
The girl snorted. “That was last Christmas and they were homeless people that disappeared from a shelter downtown, not teenagers. There’s been nothing since. The police even said they think the men just sneaked out of the shelter and took off for parts unknown.”

Mrs. Piers needed to get to work, so she stepped out into the night. The moon and a few stars sparkled up in the black velvet of the sky. The whole street was lit up. Many houses had Christmas lights and other decorations, though they only had just a wreath on their door. Some people strolled along the neighborhood, stopping at each house to view the lights. Everything looked innocent and Christmasy. Nothing scary.

She whistled to the Christmas music that sang from her car radio as she drove to the hospital.
  As Jenny closed the door, a tease of jabbering reached her from the darkened area beneath a tree at the north side of their home. She stepped outside.

 A squirrel? This late

But she heard nothing further, Jenny went back inside and locked the door.  She ambled into the living room. Raps resounded on the glass of the sliding doors that led to the back yard. 

Her friends and the guys they brought were here. That was the jabbering she heard a few seconds ago. Thank God, her mother had left already. Unlocking, she let in two girls and three boys. They strolled past her into the house, carrying bags of snacks and drinks, along with stuff for entertainment. Jenny shut the door and stared as they began to set up. One of the boys carried two bags in the living room, while Lisa and the others were taking bags of chips, cans of nuts, soda, and microwave popcorn out of the other bags. The counter overflowed with it all.

Jenny thought back to the last day of school,  just before Christmas vacation.

Lisa and Debbie had approached her as she was taking things out of her locker at school and jamming it all into her bookbag.

“Hey,” said Lisa, leaning a shoulder against the locker next to Jenny’s. “Your mother works all night—right?”

Jenny slammed shut the door and slung the bookbag over one shoulder. “Yeah, but you knew that. So?”

Debbie grinned. “Well, our parents will be out at a party that night until two o’clock. Be kinda cool to have a party without adults staring over our shoulders. There are these three guys—”

Jenny finished for her, “and you and Lisa have the hots for two of them. Guess the third was dug up for me, as an incentive to have the party at my house?”

Lisa shrugged. “Well, your mom is gone all night—”

Jenny sighed.  “I don’t feel good about this, but all right.” She shook a finger. “Not all night, okay. Just ‘til midnight. You guys can just sneak back into your homes.”

Lisa grinned. “Of course, we don’t want to do it all night. Christmas is the next day and we want to be rested for that. Besides our parents will be home by 2 a. m., so midnight is great.”

For two days, Jenny had been worried about agreeing. Worse, all day today, she had not been feeling good. She was not able to eat much, except soup, and she stayed in her room most of the day, with her stomach twisted into tight knots. About an hour ago, her stomach had settled down. 

It was only until midnight. She could handle that. It’s not as if there would be alcohol.  

One of the boys--a tall, gangling one-- laughed, as he lifted a six-pack of beer out of a grocery bag. Another boy, dressed all in black and sporting earrings in his big ears, nose, and even his lower lip, laughed too. His laugh sounded like the braying of a donkey.

Jenny’s stomach boiled as she fought not to run to the bathroom. She stomped over to Lisa and Debbie who were opening packages of cookies and bags of chips as they gossiped.

She grabbed Lisa’s arm, snarling. “You didn’t say there would be alcohol.”

Lisa glanced with disinterest as the boy withdrew another six-pack of beer. “Well. . .I never said there wouldn’t be. John’s adult brother got them for him at the liquor store tonight.”

Debbie piped up. “It’s not like we’ll get drunk on twelve cans of beer, Jenny.”

Debbie wasn’t the brightest girl in town. As Jenny remembered the incident with Debbie and the horse last year,  maybe not even in the whole world.

She sighed. “All right, but be forewarned, first time anyone starts to act drunk, the party is over and everyone goes home.”

Lisa shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. That’s doable.”

Lisa popped in a DVD of a Christmas comedy she brought, and both she and Debbie settled on the couch, a boy nestled against them. Lisa got John, who was the tall, gangling type with the beer, while Debbie got Roy, plump and dumb. Jenny ended up with Spider. Spider was the goth. She thumped down in the chair that matched the couch, but Spider slithered in like a snake about to snatch its next victim, sliding his arms round her so Jenny moved to the floor. Unfortunately, so did Spider.  He looped an arm around her.

“You know why they call me Spider?” he whispered into her ear. “It’s like I got eight arms.”

It felt like he had eight hands too. They slid up and down her body, searching for permanent places to nest. Like her breasts, and other unmentionable spots.

She hissed in his ear, digging an elbow into his ribs. “Hands to yourself. I don’t know you well enough for you to do that. Want my opinion?  That will be never. Understand?”

He glowered as he snatched the bottle of beer. “Your friends didn’t say you be a class A bitch.”

He took a swig of the beer and ignored her after that, staring at the television. Which was fine with her. Jenny rose to her feet and headed for the kitchen to get herself a bottle of soda and some snacks.

Alone, she opened the fridge and peeked in when she heard a sound. Closing the door, she listened and heard it again. It sounded like someone saying something, except Jenny couldn’t catch the words. It came from where the bedrooms were. Jenny stared down the shadow-dark hallway. A chill skittered up her spine. The only people in the house were her and her guests.

The jabbering grew a little louder. Now, it sounded like there was a crowd back in wither hers or her mother’s bedroom. She realized that it sounded like the noise she had heard from outside earlier, before her friends had come.

She jumped when something touched her back. Her pounding heart slowed when she realized it was Spider. His empty bottle hanging limp from his fingers, the boy’s brow knitted together.

“What’s going on?” He peered down the hall. “I thought we were the only people tonight? Your mother's working, right?”

Jenny rubbed her arms with her hands, as the coldness seeped inside her. “She is. We are.”

“Hey, what’s going on? Sneaking off to do some necking?” Lisa and Debbie, plus their guys, joined them.

Spider pointed with the neck of his  bottle at the hallway. “No. Doesn’t that sound like people are talking back there?”

Debbie bit her lip. “Really?” She turned to Jenny. “I thought you said your mom was at work.”

Jenny spat out. “She is. We’re supposed to be the only living bodies in the house tonight.”

Debbie giggled. “Cool. Maybe it’s ghosts.”

Lisa snorted. “There are no such things as ghosts, dummy. It’s just Jenny playing a trick on us.” She merged with the darkness as she walked down the hallway. “I’ll prove it. Hey, John, coming?”

John asked, “You sure you want me? I mean, I doubt there’s anything back there.” He gave Spider a nasty glance. “Spider watches too many horror flicks, you ask me.” But when Lisa told him to catch up, he hustled to join her..
Jenny heard the rustling of their clothing, their footsteps barely audible on the carpeted floor. The house grew quiet, as even the voices stopped. She back stepped until she found her back against Spider’s front. His odor flowed over her. He stunk of sweat, some male cologne and . . . . fear? 

Wait a moment. How would she know what fear smelled like?

Lisa called out. “Hey, there’s a glow coming from a bedroom back here. It looks like—“

Silence. Nothing from her or John.

Debbie called out. “Lisa? Lisa?” Roy yelled, “Yo, John!”

Lisa didn’t answer. Neither did John.

Jenny’s nerves stretched. She was ready dial call 911 on her cell phone. But she didn’t. Debbie, along with Roy and Spider tiptoed to where Lisa and John had went. Spider obviously did not want to, but Roy dug his fingers into the thinner boy’s shoulder and forced him.

Jenny called out. “Come back. I’m going to call the—“

Suddenly, screams and growls rent the air. Frightened, and not even looking back, Jenny bolted, snatching  the house keys. She ran out of the house, not even shutting the door behind her.

Breathing heavy, she stopped on the sidewalk and stared back at the looming darkness of the open doorway. Nothing surged out of it, not the others or whatever had gotten them. With a shaking hand, she called her mother at the hospital. After she got off the phone, she felt pain wash over her. Smells rushed at her. One tasted on iron on her tongue as she drooled. Confused and hurting, she leaned against a car parked on the street. Until she realized it was Lisa’s car, then she stumbled across the street. She stayed there.

Thirty minutes later her mother drove up and after parking the car in the driveway, she crossed the street to join Jenny. Her daughter hugged her, crying. “Mom, something’s in the house, and it got Lisa and Debbie.”

Her mother rubbed her back. “You allow them in the house?”

Jenny sniffed. “Yeah. I did, and thry had brought three guys with them, to have a party at our house." She shivered. "Something has gotten them, and it’s my fault.”

Her mother nodded. “It is, Jenny. Mine, too.”

Jenny stepped away from her mother. The light from the moon above revealed that her face seemed odd.  “What do you mean?”

“After your father died, I was called back to my people. But they wouldn’t allow you to come with me. I couldn’t leave you. They said you’re a halfling. That you couldn’t survive in my world. But I noticed you have some of my powers, something most halflings never inherit from a full-blood. I remained here. I got a job to support us, but I still worried about leaving you alone as you were entering puberty and with puberty for a fey, the changes come. I couldn't be sure how much power you might have once the change is complete. Some of my people came to stay with us.”

“What do you mean? I never saw anyone but us in the house since Daddy died. What’s a fey?”

Her mother crossed her arms. “That’s because of the glamour. Like what I use to keep me appearing human to humans, like your father. A fey is another word for what humans call fairies. I am part of one race of the Sidhe. We can change shape with will, besides having other powers.”

Her mother’s form began to short out like a television reception. Where her mother had stood, a tall, pale being with shimmering hair that fell to its feet towered over her. It gave a parody of a smile, revealing a mouthful of cannibal sharp fangs. “I saw your father from a distance when he was hiking with friends in the mountains and I fell in love with him. So I stepped from my world into his, changed my looks, and made him fall in love with me. I don’t need to feed most of the year what my kind subsist on normally, but on Christmas Eve, before midnight, the hunger calls to me. So I would sneak out to hunt my prey as your father slept deeply due to enchantment. It grew worse when I became pregnant with you. I had to feed for two then.”

Her mother snatched her up and they flew to the house, entering. The door slammed shut behind them without a sound. Jenny was let go and she found herself standing over Spider. A crowd of beings like her mother surrounded them, blood on their lipless mouths and bare skin. Her mother pointed at the scared boy.

“You’re half fey, dear, and you must eat the right food tonight to survive. Just as our relatives had gnawed on your friends. Just as I fed on a dying person at the hospital earlier tonight. Your magic is growing stronger each day and if you don’t feast on human flesh before the first strike of midnight, you will burn up. Don’t you feel the heat in you now? It’s our particular type of fairies’ Christmas curse. If your friends hadn't come here tonight, I would have brought you home another person dying at the hospital.”

Jenny felt the fire roaring inside.  She stared down at Spider. and saw how large and rounded his eyes had become. His fear rushed up her nostrils like an overpowering perfume. The pulse at his throat drew her eyes. It teased her, begged her to take a bite. But his hands interested her more. Spider had wanted his hands on her earlier that night. She had said no then. Why not have them in a place where they should? Like her mouth? In her stomach. Yes.

With a smile, Jenny leaned over, her jaws popping to accommodate the feeding. She grabbed Spider’s hands as he tried to scream and move, but couldn’t, thanks to the magic she used.

His hands tasted delicious when they were in the right spot. Like down her throat and in her tummy.