My Phantoms series kicks off on 1/26/15 with book one, GHOST OF A PROMISE. I’ve been asked a lot by readers and my street team what made me jump from quirky and heartfelt to what’s considered paranormal or supernatural. In honesty, I’m surprised I haven’t before. I’ve been compelled for some time to do so, and I guess now was the right time.
My interest in the after-life started when I was young. I had these reoccurring dreams about ghosts. Not scary ones. In fact, in the dreams, I knew I was dreaming and that the person I was talking to was dead, but it wasn’t frightening, per se. I still have them from time to time. Now, I don’t wield a crystal ball and chant, but I have to wonder if the dreams are just an over-active writer’s brain or if there’s really something to them.
A very close friend of mine really loves the supernatural too, so we watch shows and movies together, picking apart the plots. Before I had my sons, we used to go to a supposedly haunted location the weekend of my birthday that was in close proximity to our city, so we didn’t have to drive far. I have yet to actually see a ghost, but we did have cold spots and camera malfunctions occasionally. But…this one time…
Okay, so imagine an old two-story farm house, isolated from civilization and surrounded by dense woods that takes a back road to a back road to get there. Scared yet? We finally find it one muggy summer night. There’s no moon, no streetlights, and the only sounds are crickets and a lonely owl. The house has been abandoned for twenty years and the story is a woman was jilted at the altar, so she closed herself off in the house and died of a broken heart. She vowed to hurt anyone who dared to tread on her land and disrupt her peace.
There’s a single length of chain between two posts that blocks off the rough gravel driveway. The woods and foliage are so overgrown you can’t see more than a couple feet in. My friend and I stepped over the chain and start walking, her holding a camera and me with a flashlight. The path is about fifty or so yards and then curves to the left. After the curve is where the house is supposed to be located. We’re about halfway to the curve when something stops me. Not sure what, a gut feeling maybe. But then I couldn’t move. Not even if I tried. My legs wouldn’t work and my feet were dug in. An irritated, sad sort of oppression hovered around me, until I was near tears.
My friend, a few steps ahead, turns and says her camera stopped working. I open my mouth to respond when a harsh whisper fills my ear. I’m unsure what the voice says, but it’s female and angry. Without warning, the flashlight pulls from my hand and flies twenty feet away, landing hard and clicking off. My friend and I share a panicked look, pause for a moment, then take off running for the car. We never went back. That’s what we get for trespassing, I guess.
Back to you. Got any spooky stories? Bumps in the night? Cold spots you can’t explain? Do tell! I hope you enjoy the new Phantoms series with Entangled, and be sure to check out my site for other news and where to find me on social media. www.authorkellymoran.com