12.02.2014
All About Heroes Interview With Diana Nixon
I'd like to welcome author Diana Nixon to Suspense, She Writes. Diana is a bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romances. Her novel In Your Eyes is scheduled for release December 16, 2014.
11.23.2014
Dear Indie Author, Don't Be THAT Author
Dear Indie Author
Don’t be that author.
You know the one, the author that makes the rest of us look...well, not so
good. That one author to which critics compare all other indie authors.
There is a low opinion of indie authors among certain sectors
of the reading community. One blogger’s opinion was so harsh it made me cringe.
The stigma of self-publishing seems to be lifting as more and more authors
choose to self-publish, even authors who have traditionally published with a
big 5 New York press. The publishing industry as a whole is morphing and
changing its publishing and marketing philosophy, and it’s hard to keep up with
all the developments. It’s an exciting time to be an author.
I’m an indie author and make no apologies for it. My loyalty is
to my author brand, not to any one publisher’s catalog. I’ve been published by
four different small publishers and have a contract with a top tier, non-big
five publisher. Yet recently I decided to self-publish. Why? To be blunt, I’ve
practically done all the marketing and promotion for my published releases
myself. If I’m doing most of the work, I might as well keep most of the
royalties.
11.19.2014
All About Heroes Interview With Joan Curtis
I'd like to welcome fellow author, Joan Curtis, to Suspense, She Writes. Joan has just released a new mystery titled The Clock Strikes Midnight.
Available for Pre-Sale at Amazon
and
Janie Knox wants nothing more than
to live her life quietly in Savannah, Georgia and never return to her hometown
of Atlanta. At age 17, a week after a jury convicted her stepfather of killing
her mother, she packed all her worldly possessions in a single duffle bag,
hopped on a bus, and vowed never to return. But, when she learns that she’s got
three months to live, she journeys back home to finish what she couldn’t do
when she left--kill her stepfather.
As the clock ticks away, Janie’s uses the last days of her life to right the wrongs that have haunted her for 20 years. She faces more than she bargained for when she discovers her sister’s life in shambles. Meanwhile her stepfather, recently released from prison, blackmails the sisters and plots to extract millions from the state in retribution.
The Clock Strikes Midnight is a race against time in a quest for revenge and atonement. This is a story about unleashing the hidden truths that haunt a quiet Southern family.
As the clock ticks away, Janie’s uses the last days of her life to right the wrongs that have haunted her for 20 years. She faces more than she bargained for when she discovers her sister’s life in shambles. Meanwhile her stepfather, recently released from prison, blackmails the sisters and plots to extract millions from the state in retribution.
The Clock Strikes Midnight is a race against time in a quest for revenge and atonement. This is a story about unleashing the hidden truths that haunt a quiet Southern family.
Joan is hosting a launch party for The Clock Strikes Midnight on November 25th from 3pm to 5pm EST on Facebook.
CLICK READ MORE TO SEE ALL ABOUT HEROES INTERVIEW
9.25.2014
#NewRelease - Laurel Heights by Denise Moncrief
Paranormal Romantic Suspense
Amazon $2.99 http://amzn.com/B00N0795WY
Smashwords $2.99 https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/471791
Murder, revenge, and nightmares.
A dark cloud of deceit
hovers over her family tree...
Left an estate by an aunt she’s never met, Laurel Standridge
takes possession of Laurel Heights, hoping it will be the safe haven she needs
to recuperate from her ill-fated relationship with Rand Peterson. Secrets long
buried rise to the surface when her cousin James is murdered and dumped on the
highway just outside the gates of Laurel Heights.
Her past trails her to
the mountains of Arkansas...
Caught in an obligation Chase Peterson feels he cannot ignore,
he agrees to help his brother Rand take back the property he believes Laurel
stole from him, but Chase remains at Laurel Heights after he discovers Laurel
took nothing of Rand’s away with her except nightmares, fading bruises, and a
broken rib.
Unexplained disturbances
shatter her hopes of a normal life...
Are the strange bumps, thumps, and bangs reverberating through
the night caused by the murderer of Laurel’s cousin James, someone Rand has
sent to exact his revenge, or a disturbed soul existing in another dimension,
trying to communicate with the living? Drawn together by the intrigue
surrounding Laurel Heights, Chase and Laurel become hopelessly entangled in a
relationship that goes deeper than lust. Can their love survive the haunting of
Laurel Heights?
Excerpt
Since Laurel had moved into her aunt’s house, she hadn’t fallen
asleep once without pharmaceutical help. The sleeping aid usually lulled her
into lullaby land, but the drug seldom got her through the night without a
nightmare. She was quickly running out of the prescription and would have to
resort to over-the-counter antihistamines soon. The doctor she had seen in
Fairview wouldn’t renew her prescription. He hadn’t wanted to prescribe it
anyway. She wouldn’t be going back to him.
She lay still beneath her comforter, listening to the unusual
sounds coming from the lower floor. The house made a lot of noises, especially
at night. She sucked in a ragged breath when it made a few more. Thuds and
bumps sounded like footfalls. Was someone in the house or was she being
paranoid? Every shadow reminded her of Rand. He was in prison and would be
incarcerated for a very long time, probably the rest of his life, but he could
easily send one of his loyal subordinates to find her.
She wrapped her fingers around the grip of the baseball bat she
kept next to her bed and hoped she wouldn’t have to use it. Confronting an
intruder with a hollow piece of aluminum seemed like a lame defense. She had
been considering purchasing a gun, but hadn’t done so yet. Maybe it was time.
She’d have to buy one under the radar because she didn’t want anyone doing a
background check on her. Acquiring a shotgun shouldn’t be too hard. It seemed
everyone in Arkansas owned a firearm of some sort.
She threw off the comforter, rose from the bed, slipped across
the room with the bat over her shoulder, and opened the door to peer down the
hallway toward the front stairs. Nothing moved. The house was quiet. Maybe a
little too quiet. Only moments before, a symphony of strange noises had
disturbed the night. It was as if opening her bedroom door had turned off the
sound.
She stared at the back stairs directly across from her bedroom
and considered going down to the first floor to check the door locks, but nixed
the idea. Locked doors wouldn’t keep someone out of the house if they really
wanted to get in. Better to barricade herself in her bedroom and keep the bat
close by. She slammed the door shut.
No moonlight filtered through the flimsy fabric covering the
window. The moon hid behind a thick cloud cover. She tugged at the curtains,
pulling them tighter to keep out the night. Before she stepped away, she caught
a glimpse of something not quite right. Peeking between the curtain panels, she
stared across the backyard. On the other side of the grimy window, a dim light
flitted back and forth inside the detached garage.
She shivered with apprehension. The structure was derelict,
unlike her garage in California. The four-car garage had been attached to
Rand’s half million-dollar house. They had been living in the two-story,
five-bedroom house for at least a year, but the place had never seemed like
home to Laurel. Everything belonged to Rand. By the end of their disastrous
relationship, he had treated her like a possession as well. Actually, maybe he
had all along.
Comparing her life then to her life now brought up memories of
the beating Rand had given her and his attempt to attack her again. If Foster
hadn’t shown up when he did, she’d probably be dead.
She glanced at the clock beside her bed. It was nearly four in
the morning, the darkest hour of the night. Who could possibly be snooping
around her place in the dark? Who would be in her garage at any hour? She
contemplated calling the local Sheriff’s Office, but decided against it. She
didn’t want cops involved in her personal business. No. She would find out who
was messing around her property without involving local law enforcement.
Eventually the intruder would show himself, and she would be ready for him.
Suspense, She Writes
Where the road to happily ever after takes a suspenseful
detour. Fast paced twists and turns that keep you turning the pages. Romantic
happily ever after moments that take your breath away. Paranormal romantic
suspense that keeps you on the edge of your seat.
Want to know a little bit more about Denise? She's a Southern
girl who has lived in Louisiana all her life, and yes, she has a drawl. She has
a wonderful husband and two incredible children, who not only endure her
writing moods, but also encourage her to indulge her writing passion. Besides
writing romantic suspense, she enjoys traveling, reading, and scrapbooking.
Accounting is a skill she has learned to earn a little money to
support her writing habit. She wrote her first story when she was a teen,
seventeen handwritten pages on school-ruled paper and an obvious rip-off of the
last romance novel she had read. She's been writing off and on ever since, and
with more than a few full-length manuscripts already completed, she has no
desire to slow down.
You can connect with Denise at
a Rafflecopter giveaway
8.31.2014
Ten Albums That Have Affected Me
My friend Heidi
Senesac tagged me on Facebook. She challenged me to list eleven albums that have
affected me in some way. They don't need to be the "right" albums or
great works of musicianship. So I decided to share my list here on Suspense,
She Writes.
1. Dreamboat Annie - Heart
2. Cry Like a Rainstorm, Howl Like the Wind - Linda Ronstadt
3. Tapestry - Carole King
4. Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson
5. Juice - Juice Newton
6. Crimes of Passion - Pat Benatar
7. Shooting Straight In the Dark - Mary Chapin Carpenter
8. Aces - Suzy Boggus
9. The Best Damn Thing - Avril Lavigne
10. The Spirit Room - Michelle Branch
11. Lying To the Moon - Matraca Berg
Yep, I chose all female artists, because I love to sing and these ladies all gave me something to sing along with.
One of the first concerts I attended was Heart. I wanted to sing like Ann Wilson. Well, you know that wasn't going to happen, so I settled for having big hair like hers. Wanna she a picture of that? Okay, here it is...
Okay, maybe I didn't quite achieve Ann's big hair either, but still...that hair is pretty big. :)
 |
| Just Married! |
Okay, maybe I didn't quite achieve Ann's big hair either, but still...that hair is pretty big. :)
8.26.2014
Interview With a Ghost With Paranormal Investigator Mitchell Grayson
PLEASE NOTE: This post portrays a fictional character and a
fictional ghost. All names, places, and events are purely the imagination of
the author and the post is meant for entertainment purposes only.
Author: Today, I want to welcome Lt. Mitchell Grayson to Suspense, She Writes. Lt. Grayson is not
only an investigator with the Sheriff’s department in Hill County, Arkansas,
but also one of the founders of the North Central Arkansas Paranormal Society.
Welcome, Lt. Grayson.
Grayson: Please, call me Gray.
Author: Okay, Gray. *author smiles because Gray is handsome* So
first tell us how you became a ghost hunter.
Gray: Please, don’t call us ghost hunters. *grins at author
despite rebuking her* We prefer the term paranormal
investigators. The group was organized when our three founders—Josh McCord,
Ashley Rivers, and I—first encountered paranormal activity on Halloween night
in an old house in Hill County.
Author: That was quite a few years ago now, wasn’t it?
Gray: Oh, yeah. We were young. Teenagers really, when the
incident occurred.
Author: Now, come on, Gray, confess. You were breaking and
entering, weren’t you?
Gray: *grins* Yes, we were. But...that was before I swore to
uphold the law.
Author: So...the interview you’re going to tell us about today
actually was recorded just a few months ago.
Gray: Just last spring, actually. I became...acquainted with
the new owner of an old house reputed to be haunted. The owner of Laurel Heights
asked for our help with her...paranormal problem.
Author: What kind of problems was she having?
Gray: It started with strange noises in the middle of the
night, progressed to cold spots and odd physical sensations, and ended up with unexplainable
environmental disturbances and finally...a manifestation of Celeste
Standridge’s ghost.
Author: *gets excited and doesn’t bother to hide it* Then you’ve
seen the ghost of Celeste Standridge?
Gray: No, I have not. However, the owner of the house has had a
close encounter with her.
Author: *author deflates a little* But you’ve had your own experience
at Laurel Heights, haven’t you?
*Gray nods*
Author: So tell us about what happened to you?
Gray: The owner had given us permission to do a night
investigation in her garage when she was out of town. Josh McCord and I entered
the building just after midnight and began calling out whatever presence might
be lingering in the garage.
Author: How did you do that?
Gray: We used a recording device that registers sounds at lower
or higher decibels than are usually heard by the average human ear and began asking
a predetermined set of questions designed to engage with whatever entities
might be present.
Author: You used a digital voice recorder?
Gray: Yes, for recording electronic voice phenomena. On that
night... Whatever was loose in the room lifted from the floor and swirled around
us. A piece of...something...I don’t know what...hit Josh in the back of the
head. He still has a scar from that. Everything started happening when I asked
a particular question. We couldn’t get out of there soon enough, but as I was
trying to leave it was as if I was stuck halfway in and halfway out of the
garage, and there was no reason for that. It should have been easy to get
away...but it wasn’t.
Author: What question started it all?
Gray: I asked if whoever was in the garage was angry that the
new owner had moved into Laurel Heights. Thanks when everything started
going...crazy.
Author: And did you capture the incident on the device?
Gray: *smiles* Wanna hear it?
Author: Yes, you know I do.
*Gray places recorder on tabletop and presses play button*
Gray’s voice on the recorder: “Is there anyone here?”
*loud static follows and Gray rushes to lower the volume*
Gray’s voice on the recorder: “What’s your name?”
*the pitch and rhythm of the static changes, a cadence that
sounds like a two-syllable word repeats over and over*
*Gray pauses the machine*
Gray: What does that sound like to you?
Author: I don’t know. It’s kind of indistinct. Might be a word
spoken over and over again. With an E
on the end.
Gray: That’s what Lau...the owner of the house thought.
*Gray pushes the play button.*
Gray’s voice on the recorder: Are you angry that...*skip in the
playback as if Gray has erased the owner’s name from the tape* ...has moved
into the house?
*chant changes, distinct and unmistakable.*
Disembodied voice: Tell Laurel... My baby. Tell Laurel... My
baby.
*Gray jabs play button, stopping the feedback.*
Gray: That was when everything went crazy. Whatever was in the
garage that wasn’t heavy or tied down lifted up and swirled around us. *Gray
clears his throat.* Freakiest thing I’ve ever lived through.
Author: Did the owner of the house understand the message
Celeste was trying to tell her?
Gray: Well...at first, we weren’t sure the message was from
Celeste or meant for...the owner, but...events since then have led us to
believe the disembodied voice on the recording is in fact Celeste Standridge.
Author: And what was she trying to communicate to...the owner
of Laurel Heights?
Gray: *shifting uncomfortably in his seat* I’m not at liberty
to divulge that information. Part of an on-going...um...criminal investigation.
Author: Ah, so that’s where you other role in this
investigation comes into play.
*Gray smiles*
*Author thinks Gray has a sexy smile*
Author: So would you go back to Laurel Heights and investigate
again?
Gray: *with a huge grin* You bet I would, and one day when
things...settle down a bit, Josh and I will go back.
Author: Will you let us know if you do and what you discover?
Gray: Of course.
Author: Thank you so much for joining us today on Suspense, She
Writes.
Gray: Thanks for having me.
*Author blushes because she wouldn’t mind having him...um...getting
to know him better*
READERS: If you enjoyed this bit of insight into the character
of Lt. Mitchell Grayson and would like to know more of the story of Laurel Heights, pre-orders of Book One
of the Haunted Hearts Series are now available on Amazon at this link.
8.22.2014
Ten Places That Have Inspired My Writing
One of my favorite things to do is travel, and in my journeys I often visit places that inspire me. Sometimes the spot will set a scene or sometimes it might be the inspiration for the beginning chapter of a book. Each of the pictures below have inspired either an already published work or a book I plan to write in the near future. Just a small sample of places that inspire me...
Capilano Suspension Bridge - Vancouver, British Columbia
French Quarter - New Orleans, Louisiana
Private Lake - Near Port Angeles, Washington
Miegs Falls - Smoky Mountain National Park
Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad - Durango, Colorado
Garden District - New Orleans, Louisiana
Old Towne Square - Albuquerque, New Mexico
Hamilton House - Hot Springs, Arkansas
Gulf of Mexico - Florida Panhandle
River Walk - San Antonio, Texas
Please check out my published works at:
You might also enjoy my free short story, Ghost In the Garden, available here:
8.21.2014
New Release - Bridge of Hope by Lisa J Hobman
Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com books@5princebooks.com
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary
Release Date: August 21, 2014
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html
Love is like a snowflake; beautiful but fleeting in its presence…
I’ve been in love. But I’ve also been lied to, betrayed by
those closest to me and I’ve suffered loss. Sadly it’s those last three things that stick with me the
most. The only real constants in my life are music, Angus my dog and Rhiannon;
my guitar.
But things changed when she
walked into my place of work. All blue eyes, curves and a warmth that could
melt even my hardened heart. I was
taken over by feelings that I didn’t expect so soon. Guilt plagued me and I
took my anger out on her.
On Mallory.
But I fell fast and hard and there was nothing I could do to
stop it. When she too became the victim of heartbreak I was the only one who
understood her pain but I was the last
person she wanted help from.
Would I ever convince her that we could be friends? And
would I ever accept that she couldn’t love me back?
About Lisa J Hobman
Lisa is a happily married Mum of one with two crazy
dogs. She especially enjoys being
creative; has worked as a singer and now runs her own little craft business
where she makes hanging signs and decorations for the home. Lisa and her family
recently relocated from Yorkshire, England to their beloved Scotland; a place
of happy holidays and memories for them.
Writing has always been something Lisa has enjoyed, although
in the past it has centered on poetry and song lyrics. The story in her debut novel has been
building in her mind for a long while but until the relocation, she never had
the time to put it down in black and white; working full time as a High School
Science Learning Mentor and studying swallowed up any spare time she had. Making the move north of the border has given
Lisa the opportunity to spread her wings and fulfill her dream. Writing is now a deep passion and she has
enjoyed every minute of working towards being published. Novels two and three are works in progress so
watch this space!
How to contact Lisa J Hobman:
8.16.2014
How an Accountant Becomes a Writer
 |
| Seriously? Do I look like an accountant? |
A general business degree seemed like the closest curriculum to
being a secretary, so I enrolled and listed my major as general business. Of
all the concentrations in general business, accounting made the most sense to
me. At its basic level, it was simple. Asset = Liabilities + Equity. You
couldn’t go wrong with a balanced equation like that. Okay, well, trust me,
accounting isn’t always that simple. Sometimes we accountants have to
get...creative. Accounting seems like an analytical, left-brain sort of thing
to do, doesn’t it? One of my friends from high school told me at our ten-year
reunion that she always knew I’d do something like accounting because I was so
good in math. Uh, no. I wasn’t.
When I graduated from college with an accounting degree, I said I would be the most atypical accountant there ever was. Well, I'm not, but I might be coming pretty close.
When I graduated from college with an accounting degree, I said I would be the most atypical accountant there ever was. Well, I'm not, but I might be coming pretty close.
I think there’s always been a deep well of inclination inside me to be something else, some more. I’ve always had the urge to creatively express myself. When I was in high
school, my friend Brenda and I read every Harlequin romance we could get our
hands on. Those romances inspired me. The ah-ha moments got to me every time.
You know, those moments when the hero and heroine realize they love each other
and can’t live without one another. That moment. Tugged at my heartstrings. I
wanted to write something like that. So I wrote my first romance when I was in
high school. Seventeen pages on school-ruled paper and an obvious rip off of
the last romance I’d read. I don’t even have that story any longer. Just as
well. It sucked.
When I was in my twenties, I tried writing songs. I can tell
you right now that my lyrics never had the depth or complexity that my
daughter’s lyrics do. She amazes me. Truth is, I was never meant to be a
songwriter. Most of what I wrote will never see the light of day, but there was
one song I thought was pretty good. I’ll share the lyrics with you at the end
of this post. Once again, I tried to write a novel because I’d read so many
Robert Ludlum books that the fast-paced, suspense-filled adventure with a hint
of romance captured my imagination. At about the fourth chapter, I realized I
lacked the skills to write such a novel and my suspense manuscript digressed
into...well, a comedy. A spoof on the action adventure genre. I gave it up,
fearing my efforts lacked credibility.
In my thirties, I was too busy being a part time accountant and
a full time wife and mommy to do much of anything else. But then, I hit my forties
and all that creativity that I had suppressed and the need to express myself
just sort of burst in my mind. You see, I had this daydreaming habit. That kind
of habit can be a bit...unhealthy if it goes too far. Thankfully, before it
became a deep psychological problem, I turned all that daydreaming into a
dream. I remembered the writing I had done when I was younger and realized that
was a perfect outlet for my daydreams.
Now I call those dreams inspiration and don’t feel quite so
guilty about spending my thoughtful times indulging in them. I spent a decade
churning out one manuscript after another. I will always have something on my
hard drive to edit and polish for the purpose of publication. And I keep coming
up with new ideas. I’ll never run out stories. Not in this lifetime. So here I
am with six books available for purchase and three more to come by the end of
2014. Seven more planned for 2015. Nope, I don’t plan to stop living the
writing dream.
And that’s how an accountant becomes a writer.
Here’s the lyrics to that song I promised you. It’s call Cold
December Morning. PS—When I wrote it, it wasn’t December. It was March. And no
one has ever left me like that. I’ve been married to the love of my life for
thirty plus years. So, no, this isn’t about my life and I don’t know where it
came from.
Cold December Morning
Whisper to me softly
the things I want to hear.
Don’t tell me that you’re leaving.
It’s the thing that I most fear.
Don’t tell me that our love is cold
and gray just like the dawn.
On a cold December morning,
don’t say our love is gone.
Can you tell me truly
our love has been a lie?
Do you want to know the answer?
Do you even wonder why?
I keep clinging to the hope
our love’s not made of stone.
On a cold December morning.
don’t say our love is gone
Your bags are packed and ready.
They’re waiting in the hall.
Can you pass the moments of our life
still hanging on the wall?
Can you turn your back on all we had
and all that’s meant to be?
On a cold December morning,
will you come back to me?
8.10.2014
Just Romantic Suspense: Take My Breath Away Heroes
Just Romantic Suspense: Take My Breath Away Heroes: With: Denise Moncrief For me, romantic suspense is all about the take-my-breath-away moments. The best of the genre builds until two p...
8.04.2014
Do You Believe In Ghosts?
The paranormal fascinates and scares me at the same time.
Because I don’t understand it, I am reluctant to get too close to it. Like a
snake that might bite. I’m fascinated with shows like Ghost Hunters and Ghost
Adventures. Yes, I realize those shows are probably so far from reality and
heavily scripted that it’s unreal, yet the thought of someone communicating
from beyond death intrigues me. If any of the claims on Ghost Adventures are real, then I suspect Zak Bagans got a little
too close and is now dealing with the consequences of messing with something he
didn’t understand. He claims an evil entity followed him home from one of his
investigations. If that can happen, then I don’t want to get anywhere near an
evil entity and I certainly don’t want to provoke it.
For the record, I don’t believe in ghosts or apparitions as
popularly defined. I don’t believe that a soul is somehow stuck between heaven
and earth, restless until he or she finds a way to move on. Okay, I know I
probably just offended someone, somewhere, but please allow me a moment to
explain. I believe there is a supernatural realm where things happen that we
normally can’t see, hear, touch, taste, or smell. A barrier or veil keeps us
humans from seeing into that realm. If we could experience everything that
happens there, I don’t think our human minds could absorb the overload of
stimuli.
Yes, I believe there is a higher power that I call God, and I think
sometimes He allows the veil to part so an individual can see more than he or
she would normally see, and when that happens, the person experiences something
paranormal that simply cannot be explained by human definitions of normal. We
humans have tried to explain the supernatural or the paranormal with our
limited understanding, because we like to explain everything and we are
arrogant enough to think we can.
Recently, I asked my friends on Facebook if they believed in
ghosts and if any of them would mind sharing their experiences with me. Many
replied in the comments to the status, and a few replied by private chat. I
promised I wouldn’t relate their stories unless they gave me specific
permission, so I won’t give details here. What surprised me was how many people
in my small group of friends had had an experience and how similar so many of
those experiences were.
Many people have lost a loved one, sometimes unexpectedly, and
experienced the peace of having their loved one communicate with them from
beyond death. I have no doubt these experiences are real. There were too many
to deny. Can a loved one communicate from beyond death? Why not? If a higher
power can pull back the veil of the supernatural, why can’t He also allow
someone’s loved one to break through the veil to give the person left behind
some comfort? Many people who experienced this felt great comfort from being
visited by the person he or she loved so dearly and missed so much.
Are there other paranormal experiences that can’t be explained?
Certainly, and although it helps us humans to define the experiences, I’m not
still not convinced the paranormal can be explained by the popular definition
of ghosts. I still believe the unexplained is simply that: unexplained.
My own experience? When I was first married, I lived with my
husband in a ground-floor apartment with a sliding glass door that faced the
parking lot. He often worked the night shift and I of course worked days, so
there were many times I would go to sleep alone in the apartment. Countless
times I would wake up and find several people I had never seen before floating
above the footboard of my bed dressed in the clothing of the late 1800s. They
never spoke, but I knew somehow they were my ancestors and they were watching
over me because I had never lived on my own and sleeping in the apartment by
myself terrified me. Once I knew they were there, I would fall back to sleep,
comforted that I was being guarded. Can I explain this experience in rational
terms? No. Do I believe I wasn’t dreaming? Yes. I experienced this many times,
the experiences stopped when we moved to a second floor apartment, and I’ve
never experienced anything like it again.
So do I believe in ghosts? Not really. Do I believe things
happen that can’t be explained? Yes. And even though, I don’t believe in ghosts
per se, I still find it fascinating to read about the paranormal and fun to
write ghost stories.
7.26.2014
Do I Have a Criminal Mind?
 |
| Photo courtesy of Wiki Commons from the public domain. |
Why am I fascinated with serial killers? I don’t
know. You know, I’d never heard of the BTK killer until I researched serial
killers several years ago. The story got to me so much that I stopped doing
what I was doing that night and prayed the killer would get caught. The next
day they arrested the guy. After years of looking for him. Was there a
connection between my prayer and his arrest? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.
Maybe it was just his time to get caught. Or maybe, like they say, God works in
mysterious ways. Whatever the case, I’m glad the killer is locked up.
Real life is a lot different from a television
show or a novel. Real people died at the hands of BTK. Real people lost loved
ones. Fiction is a lot easier to handle. You can distance yourself from the
horror of it by telling yourself it’s not real. Sometimes. One of my favorite
shows is Criminal Minds. Every
episode is about a serial killer or a spree killer. Yesterday, I watched
several episodes back to back. I had to stop watching after a while, because
that much twisted stuff can get to me. After a few episodes, I started
wondering if that kind of stuff can really happen. And then I thought about
BTK.
They caught that guy through his computer.
Imagine. What would my computer say about me? If a forensic computer geek were
to check my Google history, he or she might find some interesting searches. In
my quest to add a bit of authenticity to my writing, I’ve asked some questions
that might look...I don’t know...questionable. I’m no criminal mind. The
thought of hurting another living thing makes me cringe. But certainly my
Google searches might appear a bit...criminal. Here are a few examples:
1.
Has anyone ever hid a meth lab in a cave?
2.
How does one fire a gun properly?
3.
How can you tell someone has been in prison by their
body language or mannerisms?
4.
How long does one stay in prison for possession of meth
with intent to distribute?
5.
How long does it take for a body to completely
decompose?
6.
How does one acquire a permit to carry a gun in
Arkansas?
7.
How long does a body stay in the water before it floats
to the surface?
8.
How long before the tracks of someone’s drug addiction
disappears?
Of course, my obsession with serial killers might arouse
suspicion. Then, there’s my frequent searches for abandoned buildings in
various locales. Or my search of the various canals in New Orleans. Whatever do
I intend to do with this information? The searches for how different drugs
interact with each other doesn’t look good for me either.
So here’s my disclaimer. I’m a writer. I research weird
stuff. That’s what I do.
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