Sunday, October 16, 2011

Interviewing Horror Author M. R. Gott



Please enjoy learning about MR Gott, as I interview him. If have any questions, do leave a comment and I am sure he will be glasd to answer them.

1.) -Please tell us about your latest book.



Where the Dead Fear to Tread is a supernatural mystery that unravels through the course of a three person chase sequence, with no two parties working together. The novel combines the grit of old detective pulps with contemporary horror trappings. Within the tense sequences I try to find small moments to show my readers who these characters are.


2.) -What can we expect from you in the future?


The sequel Where the Damned Fear Redemption has been completed. I would like to take this opportunity to state this will not be a never ending series, this is a large story with a very definitive ending. Each book in this series will stand alone, but be part of a larger picture.


3.) - How would you describe the genre in which you do most of your writing?


I write horror without the cannon fodder characters. To me the most detrimental element to creating tension is having a story populated by thin characters who only take actions to facilitate their slaughter.


4.) –What other genre would you like to write in?


After writing two novels with intense emotional graphic violence I would like to complete a novel devoid of explicit violence, that still draws shivers from my readers.


5.) What motivated you to start writing?


I have always had a strong fondness for the art of storytelling. Stories are the way we explore concepts.


6.) -What kind of research do you do?


I have family members in the medical field and they often receive calls and emails about what happens to the body when it sustains certain trauma.


7.) -Do you have a set schedule for writing or do you just go with the flow?


I outline my stories, write the first and last chapters and then fill in the blanks. It is completed when it is completed.


8.) -Where do your ideas come from?


My mind does not stop, I have numerous files of story and scene ideas. There is no single element that inspires me, the world I live in does.


9.) -Who, if anyone, has influenced your writing?


Laurell K Hamilton’s early Anita Blake books were a huge influence. While I have abandoned the series, the character of Anita holds a special place for me. Other writers such as Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and Clive Barker are my stylistic inspirations.


10.) -Have you always wanted to be a writer?


I have always loved telling stories, and was coaxed from a very young age. I vividly remember in fourth grade being told by my teacher that the story I wrote for an assignment was too violent for class, but too well thought out and developed not be allowed to submit it. In sixth grade I sold a short story to a few classmates. It was a Frankenstein parody about my birth.


11.) -What is the most rewarding thing about being a writer?


The creation of stories and characters is such a compulsive activity for me it is just a need. I have never stopped writing in my life, it is only now that I am able to take an idea and fully develop it.


12.) Among your own books, have you a favorite book? Favorite hero or heroine?


Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe and Robert E Howard’s Conan (not any film version) are characters I have a great fondness for. They are all outsiders who find success in a world that is in direct conflict with their world view.


13.) -Please tell us about yourself (family, hobbies, education, etc.)


I am happily married and enjoy beverages as dark as my sense of humor.


14.) -Are there any words of encouragement for unpublished writers?


Eventually you will reach a point when you need to step up and search out true feedback. Not just from friends and family, but people who have no reason to spare your feelings. When you start sending out query letters choose a rejection response to wear as a badge of honor. For me it is a short story (still unpublished) that I was informed kicked around the office for a month before it was rejected. The rejection letter stated the reader was physically shaking while reading it. Somehow this horror magazine didn’t want it.


15.) Tell us your website, FaceBook, Blog, any urls so the readers can find out more about you.


Where The Dead Fear to Tread has a FaceBook Page you can like. Another great way to reach me is at Goodreads

And I maintain a BLOG too.



Book Blurb:
A police officer and a serial killer search separately for a missing child while running a malevolent labyrinth populated by creatures they never knew existed.


Former prosecutor William Chandler, disgusted with his past inaction, spills the blood of those who victimize children to correct the ills he sees in the world. A self-admitted serial killer and uncomfortable with his actions, Chandler attends the funerals of those whose lives he has taken in an effort to retain a true understanding of the nature of violence.


The carnage left in his wake is investigated by Detective Kate Broadband, who becomes progressively more comfortable with the corpses left by Chandler. Envying the power she sees in him, she pursues Chandler as each search for Maria Verde, a missing eight-year-old girl.


As Chandler and Broadband draw closer to discovering what happened to Maria they are forced to confront The Devourer, an unnatural being trafficking in stolen children.


Where the Dead Fear to Tread is a tale of hard-boiled macabre, bridging numerous genres to reveal a story of horror, crime and revenge.



Find Where the Dead Fear to Tread at Untreed Reads Store, Amazon and most major e-book retailers.


Author Bio:


M.R. Gott is the author of the novel Where the Dead Fear to Tread and the forthcoming sequel Where the Damned Seek Closure. You can visit M.R. at his website Cutis Anserina at Where the Dead Fear toTread Blog.

Aside from contacting M.R. you will find his collection of book reviews and a list of small horror films you may have missed. M.R. lives contentedly in central New Hampshire with his wife, and their three pets. Aside from writing M.R. enjoys dark coffee, dark beer and fading light.




Friday, October 14, 2011

New Science Fiction Short Story, "Sins of the Father" Now Released--in Ethereal Gazette, Issue 13






My dark science fiction short story, "Sins of the Father" is now available, released in the Ethereal Gazette, Issue 13 (my lucky number by the way!). The whole paperback book is 284 pages, full of stories and artwork.



"Sins of the Father" is set in the future and concerns a trial of the clone of the businessman for the murder of the earth!


Buy the book now at http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/the-ethereal-gazette-issue-13/1798220





Supernatural Friday: Give Me Something Good To Eat



The following short story is owned and copyrighted by me and please do not take it and post it elsewhere without my permission. If you want to share it, share the link to this blog so others can come and read it. 

Give Me Something Good To Eat

By
Pamela K. Kinney




“Trick or treat! Smell my feet! Give me something good to eat!”


Halloween time again, when all those damn kids knock on his door and asked, no, demanded, candy, money, and other assorted treats. But he’d be double-damned if he’d break down and give the little hellions anything. In his opinion, these days the only thing the brats deserved was nothing. Nothing at all.


The knocking at his door escalated, becoming a persistent pounding. Jonas Perkins flung open the door and found two small children, maybe five or six, standing on his porch. One dressed as a witch, the other a Power Ranger. Their loud, obnoxious father, Pete Quarters from next door, had been the one who pounded on the door. He inched closer so that Jonas and he stood practically nose to nose.


“Hey, Perkins!” said Quarters. “Didn’t you hear Jenny and Parker knock? It’s Halloween, you know.””


Jonas snorted and glared at Quarters from under his bushy eyebrows. “Yeah, I heard. But I decided not to give out candy to any kids this year. I thought the Dental Association would have one less idiot handing out sugar products and causing cavities. Felt it was my civic duty.”


Quarters’ piggish eyes narrowed. “Are you going highbrow on me, Perkins? It’s Halloween and I’m sure that my kids’ dentist won’t mind them having some candy. I should know, as he gave them a couple Snickers bars each when we stopped at his place, so why should he care if you give them something?”


“Well, I didn’t get any candy so I am not giving them, or any other little monster, anything tonight. And that’s that. So no one better play a trick on me either, or I’ll call the cops. Understand?”


Jonas slammed the door shut on Quarters and his kids, locking it.


“Stupid idiots and their brats,” he muttered, as he stalked into the living room and thumped down in his favorite chair in front of the television set. Picking up the remote, he surfed through endless channel after channel, but could only find monster movies, how to make Halloween treats on the Cooking Channel and the history of Halloween on the History Channel.


With a click, he turned the TV off and tossed the remote onto the end table with disgust.


“Nothing but Halloween crap on tonight.”


And nothing but Halloween crap to his thinking as the door bell kept ringing and he answered it. Kids dressed in costumes of all types, from vampires and werewolves to ghosts, super heroes, and silly princesses stood with their bags held up, the light spilling onto their masked or made up faces. Their parents waited just outside the reach of the porch light, hidden in the shadows of the night. He screamed at the little monsters, making them run and their mothers or fathers curse him, but he’d just slammed the doors on them all. After a while he sat in the darkened living room, ignoring the persistent bell. Finally, the door bell quit ringing and he relaxed in his chair.


He jumped up when instead of the bell ringing a loud knocking sounded at his door. At first he felt a flash of anger and wasn’t going to answer the door, but when he spied something on a table near him a nasty grin shaped his lips. He picked up a horn that he kept to bugle at birds in the spring that tried to get the grass seed that he seeded his front lawn with. Now, with his fingers curled around the horn, he strolled to the door.


“I’ll give you a treat!” he yelled as he flung open the door with a laugh.


His fingers pressed the button on the horn and a loud high-pitched sound screamed out of it. He stopped, as he faced a trick-or-treater about his height. With another press of the button, he shut off the horn.


Dumbfounded at first, his face took on a dark, angry glower. “Aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating, you stupid nitwit?” he snarled.


The costumed figure just stood there, silent. Jonas’ gaze took in the costume and how well done it was. Tall and gaunt, threadbare iron gray pants hung loosely from its hips and it also wore a shirt rotted away in places, leaving dirt crusted holes. Dust covered most of the clothing and the large shoes on the feet looked like those that a clown would wear.


The skin gleam the same pale, chalky color as the crescent moon that hung in the night sky above. Long hands ended in long black nails, sharp like claws, and they grasped an extra large bag, like the kind that held grain or seed in the grain stores. But it was the make up job that impressed him the most. The flesh masked over the skull like a second skin. Not a speck of color touched its lips or cheeks, except a light gray color.


And the eyes! They dominated the features, like large black holes, with no consciousness peeping out of them.


Must be FX contact lenses, thought Jonas.


The lips parted in a dark smile, revealing a mouthful of cannibal-sharp fangs.


Jonas shivered, but not from the cool autumn breeze that drifted in from the outside. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to shut this door now. And no tricks, because you’re not getting any damn treats from me.”


He slammed the door shut on the figure’s face.


In a turnabout he found himself eye to eye with the strange trick-or-treater from outside. It stood there, blocking Jonas from the living room. Not one peep did it utter.


“What the hell?" Jonas retreated back a couple of steps. “How did you get inside?”


The figure silently held up its opened bag.


Suddenly angry, Jonas snarled. “You want a treat, do you? Well, I’ll give you a treat. A treat like the smack from this horn I’m still gripping.”


He raised the horn up and brought it down. With no warning, the trick-or-treater grabbed the arm holding the horn and with a twist, broke it. The horn dropped to the floor, making a loud clatter. The trick-or-treater kicked it to the side.


Pain lanced through Jonas’ arm and he cradled it. Fear flitted across his face as he stared at the other.


“Oh, dear God,” he said. “What do you want?”


The other spoke for the first time. “You.”


It grabbed him quickly, not giving him time to escape, and after snapping a few bones to bend the body easier, shoved a dying Jonas into the bag.



****


The ghoul gave a nasty cackle and flung open the door, stepping outside into the cool night air. The pungent odors from candle-lit Jack-O-Lanterns on door steps and half-eaten candies thrown to the ground from costumed children wafted to its nostrils. But it didn’t think of those things, only of the meal it would enjoy tonight in its home in the mausoleum. Nowadays, Halloween made it so easy to hunt humans. They just thought of it as another costumed trick-or-treater.


It left the door open and skipped down the street to its home in the town cemetery. It sang, swinging the heavily loaded bag at its side.


“Trick or treat, smell my feet, and give me something good to eat!”








Thursday, October 13, 2011

Guest Blogging at Horror Author M. R. Gott's Blog

I am guest blogging at horror author M. R. Gott's blog about Halloween, The title is "The Odor of Burnt Pumpkin Makes Me Scream Halloween!" http://is.gd/plpeEF


Tuesday, October 11, 2011

WEIRD WEDNESDAY




This doesn't look real, but not to say it couldn't happen. Not since I've seen a cat with two faces, which is a real feline called Janus cat: http://content.usatoday.com/communities/ondeadline/post/2011/09/cat-with-2-faces-marks-12-years-of-defying-odds-setting-records/1

Signing at Zombie Funeral Rising at Regal Cinema's New Town Stadium 12 in Williamsburg Saturday the 15th



I will be signing all three of  my nonfiction ghost books and copies of my fiction book, Spectre Nightmares and Visitations at Regal Cinema's New Town Stadium 12 Theaters, 4911 Courthouse St. Williamsburg, Virginia. For more information on this free event, call the theater at  757-253-7653.  http://www.newtownwilliamsburg.com/news/news_events.php?event_ID=531&tab=tab_events


Authors' Tailgate Party-Book Signing This Saturday the 15th in Keswick, Virginia




Join several of us authors at A&W Collectibles & Antiques Saturday, October 15 · 10:00am - 2:00pm as we set up a tailgate party and chat with visitors about their latest releases. Buy a book, or book-related items just in time for the holidays and enjoy the beautiful fall foliage of the area.



The event is free. Authors include Pamela K. Kinney aka Sapphire Phelan, Sofie Couch, Anita Clenney, Nancy Naigle, Leah St. James, Barbara Stremikis, Grace Greene, Kathryn Mix, Mary Montague Sikes and Harvey Taterbug.


We will be in the parking lot of the business. The address is 4886 Richmond Rd. (Route 250) Keswick, Va. Phone number for the business for directions, etc: 434-984-0820



Monday, October 10, 2011

My Radio Interview Now Online To Listen To

I did my radio interview with Neal Steele of WXGM and for those who couldn't listen to it live, you can now listen to it at http://www.chesapeakebaywriters.org/Radio_Show_Archive.htm



Click on Link: Click Here to Play Interviews previously Recorded: from January 2008 to present.Scroll down, it's the last interview.




Sunday, October 09, 2011

My Radio Interview About My New Ghost Book on Columbus Day in the Morning



Tomorrow, October 10th (Columbus Day), I will be interviewed by Neal Steele at XTRA 99.1 FM in Gloucester, Virginia about Virginia's Haunted Historic Triangle: Williamsburg, Yorktown, Jamestown, and Other Haunted Locations from 8:05 AM to 8:35 AM Eastern.


If you can not listen to the interview live, it will be available at Chesapeake Bay Writers not long after.




Review: Forry: The Life of Forrest J Ackerman



Forry: The Life of Forrest J Ackerman
Written by Deborah Painter



224 pages. McFarland Publishing , November 2010

 
Forrest J Ackerman (1916-2008) was an author, archivist, agent, actor, promoter, and editor of the iconic fan magazine Famous Monsters of Filmland; a founder of science fiction fandom; and one of the world's foremost collectors of sci-fi, horror and fantasy lms, literature, and memorabilia. More than that, he was the ultimate fanboy, collecting over the years he lived props and memorabilia and opening his home as a museum to fans of all ages. I myself met him twice in my life, once many years ago at a convention in California, years later in the company of Deborah Painter and others at a convention in Northern Virginia. Both times, he was a gentleman. Deborah Painter paints a picture of Forry’s life, one that even today’s fan of the sci-fi, fantasy and horror genres can get to know this man, who liked them, loved these genres so well, too. She shows her affection for this man, showing us a man she knew well.


The book was enjoyable to read and I got to know more about this man though the words in this book. If you knew about Forrest J. Ackerman—or even if you don’t—read this book. You will get to know one of the golden boys of fandom and you will enjoy the story of his life and why so many nicknamed him “Uncle Forry.”

Buy the book at McFarland
Buy both the hardcover  at AMAZON and it's also available on Kindle

Friday, October 07, 2011

Supernatural Friday: Ghostly Animals Haunt Too


Why should humans be the only ones entitled to an after life existance? Not only are there human spirits, but phantom animals have been seen for centuries. Besides wraiths of the family pet who passed away there are legends of the Black Dog, Pookas, animals that predict a family's deaths (such as the black bird did for the Cox family of Cloverhill Plantation in Chesterfield, Virginia, phantom panthers and big cats, and others.

Apparitions of the infamous Black Dog has been seen not only in British Isles, but many other places in the world. They may be distinguished from normal flesh and blood black canines by features such as large or glowing eyes—sometimes only one—their ability to appear or disappear out of thin air or into and out of the ground, no head, two heads; or the ability to change their size or appearance. Though sometimes these ghostly hounds aren't always just black, but seen as white or brown beasts.



The Black Dogs go under many names depending which county you are in. In the north of England in counties such as Yorkshire and Lancashire, you will hear names such as Guytrash, Shriker, or Barguest; in East Anglia and Norfolk you will hear Black Shuck, Skeff, or Moddey Dhoo; and in the south of England you will hear names like Yeth or Wish Hounds. The origin of the word Guytrash is unknown, but Shuck can be traced back to the Old English Scucca, meaning Demon while Barguest may come from the German 'Bargeist' meaning “spirit of the (funeral) bier.” The demon association is sometimes emphasized by the title ‘’Devil Dog.” In the south, Yeth means Heath, while Wish, in a similar vein, is an old Sussex word for marsh. This name for the hounds is widely used in Sussex, but the origin also seems linked to the term Witch Hounds, which is also common. Whether there is any connection between the two is unknown. The names may only be referring to the fact that these dogs are often seen in wild country places. In many places, the dogs are seen as omens of death. To see one means either a portent of your own death or the death of a family member.


You don’t have to go to the British Isles to see one. There have been some of these beasts reported in Virginia. There’s a legend of one that has been seen in Goochland, big as a young calf as it roamed the county. Sightings of it have always been reported to be near the State Farm, at the entrance to Thorncliff, and also at Chestnut Hill Bottom. Unlike Black Shuck in England, this one has never portended the death of anyone. There have been no tales of this animal seen since 1900 though.


Often, like the traditional Black Dogs seen in Britain, it would appear out of nowhere, trot alongside someone on foot or horseback or in a buggy. Even though it looked fearsome and was very big, it didn’t harm anyone. Some, though, didn’t want the dog accompanying them and would shoot at the animal. The bullets would just pass through its body, frightening the shooters, while the dog just kept trotting beside them. You can read more of the Virginian Black Dogs in my book, Haunted Virginia: Legends, Myths, and True Tales at various places, including AMAZON .



Apparitions of pets have been seen, plus a favorite toy seen rolling or moving as if a paw or nose still prodding it, and there has also been recorded of the feeling of something rubbing against legs or the push of a cold nose into a person's hand. Even sounds have been heard--either out loud or on EVPs from a recorder. I myself have gotten the meowing of a cat, once at Ferry Plantation during an investigation, and this past August 2011 at the Byrd Theater. A ghost cat has been seen and heard at Ferry; the ghost cat at the Byrd was more of a surprise to me.


Speaking of dog or cat spirits seen and heard, other animals' specters have been, too. Like horses. There is a story I read that concerned a child, who when her parents moved to Germany at the air base would keep avoiding an spot in the corridor of their home. She told her mother  that there was a horse in the middle of it. The mother looked up and found that the block of flats that their flat was in a military stable stood in the same area during World War II.



Another ghostly beastie seen was an ape at  Athelhampton Hall in Dorset, England. The place had been built by Sir William Martyn in 1485. Tyhe family's crest had an ape sitting on a tree stump and beneath that was the motto: "He who looks at Martyn's ape, Martyn's ape will look at him." Really owning this ape, it had the run of the hall. When one of Martyn's daughters had been spurned by her lover, she went to commit suicide in a room, locking herself in. Unfortunately for the animal, it followed her into the room and was locked in, too. It was found lying by her side, starved to death. This ghost ape is said to be heard scratching behind the walls.

In Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, Virginia, lays the tomb of famous author, Ellen Glasgow. After she passed away, it was discovered in her will a stipulation that her two pet dogs that preceded her in death be dug up from the backyard of her home and buried with her. There are those who claim to hear these two dogs running around and whining at the gravesite, late at night. Could Ellen be tossing them sticks to fetch?


Also in Hollywood is another dog legend, concerning one made of iron. It stands almost in the shadow of the pyramid. It came originally from the front of a store on Broad Street in the 19th century. A little girl would always come by and pet it, talking to it and showing her love for it as if it were a real dog. But one day she never came back. She had perished in an epidemic in 1892 and was buried in Hollywood Cemetery. Because of her affection for the cast iron dog though, it was placed at her grave site. Eerily, it stands there to this very day, as if guarding her. There have been those who say that it moves occasionally, that they would pass it pointing in one direction and come back, to find it staring the opposite way.

On moonlit nights, rider less horses are heard, galloping around the Federal-style country house, Reveille in Richmond. Located on West Cary Street in Richmond’s West End is used now as administrative offices for the Reveille United Methodist Church since it was bought in 1951.  In Old House Woods in Mathews County, ghosts of horses and cows appear and disappear before people's eyes while two black headless dogs have been seen running through the woods.

Last is two ghostly animals tales set in the Great Dismal swamp in Chesapeake, Virginia.

Legend of the White Deer




There is another local Indian tale told that is set in the Great Dismal Swamp of the Tidewater region. It is one of tragic love. There had been an Indian maiden, Wa-Cheagles, who happened to be daughter of the chief of one of two warring tribes in the area. For years she had an interesting relationship with a doe that she called Cin-Co, which meant guiding friend. It was believed that Cin-Co brought deer into the swamp each autumn. The doe would always lead her current fawn up to Wa-Cheagles to show her, at the edge of the forest near a pool of dark brown water. This was the only way for the squaw to meet with the doe as squaws were not allowed into the forest because the tribes believed this to be an evil omen.


One year, Cin-Co appeared alone, limping. She walked back into the forest, doing it two to three times, until Wa-Cheagles overcame her fear and followed her. The doe lead her to her fawn that had a hoof firmly on a barely living rattlesnake. No doubt this reptile had bitten Cin-Co and was the reason for her limp. The doe was telling the Indian maiden she wanted her to care for her fawn, since the doe was dying from the rattlesnake poison. While there, Wa-Cheagles heard a moan and discovered an Indian brave from an enemy tribe with a swollen leg from a rattlesnake bite. If she attended to him, she must pledge herself to him. Both then would be hunted down, to be killed by arrows with tips laced with water moccasin venom.


But she went ahead and helped him, removing her beret and tying it around his leg. Using some snakeroot she found, she applied a poultice over the wound. Ready to leave, she saw that Cin-Co had died and the fawn had vanished. Upset, she went back to her tribe.


For three days, she would sneaked away to tend to the brave. On the third day, her father appeared in the clearing, finding not only her, but the brave too. He carried away Cin-Co’s carcass, giving them enough time to get away.


Wa-Cheagles and her lover stopped at Lake Drummond to rest. Just then three warriors from her tribe confronted them, determined to erase the curse from their tribe.


As the warriors drew back their bows to send their arrows flying, a dark cloud blotted out the sun and a loud rustling noise filled the air. A flock of wild geese flew around Wa-Cheagles and her lover. The geese settled en masse on the lake until not one inch of the water could be seen. Terrified, the braves dropped their bows and arrows and bolted.


Just then, the “swamp spirit” rose out of the lake and strolled over the backs of the geese, approaching the two lovers. It told them that Cin-Co’s spirit had saved them. That Wa-Cheagles must continue the doe’s good work. The spirit magicked the maiden into a white deer, a small crimson spot on her forehead. Her lover became a charmed hunter. The spirit told them they would roam the swamp’s forest forever, side by side, protected from both animals and hunters by rattlesnakes.


To this day there are hunters and others who say they have seen the white deer and the Indian brave by her side. Whenever a hunter pursues them, a rattlesnake appears on the spot they had been sighted, hissing and rattling its rattle.



The White Deer and The Light

Black Jack the hermit took off in his boat one Christmas Eve, his only companion being his faithful hunting dog. He rowed across Drummond Lake, went down Washington Ditch and landed near White Marsh Road. Both man and dog left the boat to hunt deer for their dinner.



The Native Americans in the area claimed that white deer were protected by spirits. Jack’s dog flushed out a white buck, the biggest deer Jack had ever seen. The buck froze, and when he fired at it, the bullet pierced its chest. But instead of falling, it bounded away. The dog gave chase, but lost it. Jack began to wonder of the local Indian stories were true then.


Later, the dog found a red buck and this one dropped easily when Jack’s bullet hit it. He loaded the carcass in his boat and rowed for home. When it was almost dark, a blue-green light rose in the sky above the tree tops. Jack thought it was the moon rising, but then it zipped for his boat. It paused above his boat and illuminated the whole lake. Frightened, the hermit began to row faster.


When he got to his cabin, he dropped the buck and gave an order to his dog to guard the carcass, then went inside to gather the things needed to clean and dress it. He changed his clothes, sharpened his knives and went outside. Both his dog and the deer had vanished! Grabbing a lantern, he searched and found small patches of blood in the snow trailing back to the lake’s edge. Stunned, he stood there, not knowing what to do.


Just then a moan rent the air. Louder and louder it grew and sounding as if from the middle of the lake. He stared as the same blue-green light rose out of the water and over a giant cypress, covering the tree in its unnatural glow.


When the scream of a wildcat came, he jumped in his boat and raced downstream to the locks. He leaped onto shore and bolted to Captain Crockett’s cottage. It was midnight when he banged on the front door. Black Jack streaked past Crockett when he opened the door. For three hours he sat in the cottage, not speaking, due to both being frozen and the fear he felt. Crockett gave him a mixture of honey, swamp water, and moonshine, and it freed him enough to blurt out his strange story.


The next morning Jack left, determined to find his dog and the missing deer. That night, Crockett dreamed of a white buck and the mysterious halo of light that surrounded its head. He awoke, knowing it to be a premonition of danger for Jack. So the next morning he traveled to the hermit’s cabin and found the door wide open and the fire out. Jack was not inside. He searched outside and found Jack in a kneeling position in a thicket. The hermit had frozen to death. No other tracks surrounded him, and Crockett saw no signs of a struggle.


It is claimed that since then, on Christmas Eve between midnight and two in the morning that Jack can be heard gibbering about the light and the deer. At break of dawn, his dog and the missing red buck can be seen where he was found. Hunters fire at a white buck, but never hit it. The deer and the dog vanish into the underbrush.


The white deer that hunters shoot at and never hit could be the Indian maiden, Wa-Cheagles from the Indian myths chapter, except for their claim that it is a buck they saw and Wa-Cheagles became a white doe, protected by her warrior lover.

Wednesday, October 05, 2011

Tuesday, October 04, 2011

Virginia's Haunted Historic Triangle Book Signing This Upcoming Saturday


This upcoming Saturday, October 8th, I will be signing copies of Virginia's Haunted Historic Triangle: Williamsburg, Yorktown, Jamestown, and Other Haunted Locations at Barnes and Noble Short Pump 11640 West Broad Street Richmond, Virginia. The times are 1:00 to 3:00 PM.  I will be signing copies of my first two nonfiction ghost books, Haunted Richmond and Haunted Virginia: Llegends, Myths and True Tales, too.



 


If you can make it, but want a personalized signed copy of any of the books, contact the bookstore at 804- 360-0103. 

Monday, October 03, 2011

Win my books at Castle Macabre's Frightful Fall Read-A-Thon This Week

Starting today through October 9th, Castle Macabre Blog will be having a


To go along with the scary theme, Castle Macabre will have a requirement. You must read at least ONE scary book during the read-a-thon. If you are not a horror fan, then make it a thriller or a mystery, as long as the book has some kind of spooky premise to it. Those who fulfill this requirement, and sign in at the starting line, will automatically be entered in the participant giveaway. They have plenty of prizes, including downloads of Spectre Nightmares and Visitations and my Lovecratian horror short story, "Dark Eyes" that I donated to their big list of prizes.



Read as much or as little as you want. You do not have to join in all week. Start during the week or just do the weekend. It's your decision. Just be sure to sign in at the starting line when you start reading.


The blog will be hosting a scary themed mini-challenge and hopefully will have other mini-challenges and/ or giveaways (see note above).





Sign up at Castle Macabre: http://castlemacabre.blogspot.com/2011/09/announcing-frightful-fall-read-thon.html





Congratulations to the Winner of What Scares You?



Teawench is the winner of a download of my Lovecraftian horror short story, "Dark Eyes." Congratulations, TeaWench! Thank you to all the rest for your comments on what scares you.