Haunted Moon

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Hi folks! I haven’t posted in a while so I thought I would give you something new for Halloween – or All Hallow’s Eve, depending on where you live.

Before I give you the haunted short you might want to read Bloody Maples first. It would explain the first few lines of this short. Otherwise it can be understood as it.

One other thing before I bid you Happy Reading, By tomorrow I should have a brand new book for you to read – the year long project,  Fall From Grace.

Without further ado I give you Haunted Moon, as always Happy Reading and feel free to leave me your reviews!

As the other ghosts flew this way and that, the male ghost that spoke to Milady bowed deeply through rotting flesh and translucent skin, before disappearing in a wink. His dark hat and pants were nothing more than a shadow upon the wind.

 
As the moon rose ever higher in the sky, the man settled in front of a simple wooden door. Brimstone eyes glowed with malice as the specter of Father George misted through the flimsy barrier. Inside lay the modern incarnation of his torment. As his brimstone gaze scorched the door Father George ran a foggy hand over the cross that was embedded upon it.

 
Father Georges’ eyes burned brighter than the salt lamp next to the bed. The figure in the bed shivered under the thick, down comforter. “Awake from thy sinful rest,” Father George commanded in a whisper.

 
The figure in the bed rolled on its back to reveal the scruffy features of an lanky, unshaven man. “Who are you,” he quivered at the spectre.

 
“Do thine eyes not recognize the damnation your kin bestowed,” Father George asked quaintly.

 
“Your sins are well known,” whispered the man in the bed.

 
Father George chuckled as the wooden walls behind the bed turned into a wooden stage with nooses blowing in the wind. “I died sinless,” he whispered sinisterly.

 
As Father George’s words faded the man in the bed rose limply into the air. “What’s happening,” he whispered shakily.

 
“Perhaps you should pray,” Father George whispered vengefully as he began to move his rotten flesh covered jaw soundlessly.

 
As Father George’s jaw moved, the floating man shakily uttered, “ Our father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done even in earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory for ever. Amen.”

 
As the last word uttered from the floating man’s mouth, his head managed to get lodged in the noose on the wall. “Have Mercy,” the floating man pleaded as water brimmed his eyelids.

 
“Mercy,” Father George chuckled, “Your own ancestors condemned me to death without mercy though I had more faith than they. Why should I show you any,” Father George sneered as the noose began to tighten around the man’s neck.

 
“The state cleared you,” the now sweaty, white faced man puffed out as the pressure began to cut into his air supply.

 
“To white wash their own history, but never true penitence did they have,” Father George cackled.

 
As the noose dug into the soft flesh of his neck and his face began to turn red, the man gasped, “Don’t let vengeance ruin the only chance you have for God’s redemption!”

 
Father George’s pale, tattered clothes glowed sharply before he bellowed, “God! Let me tell you about God. He doesn’t care. Not in your world or mine. When you die there are only spirits that await you,” Father George finished cruelly.

 
“I don’t believe that,” the man gasped as sweat rolled down his bright red face.

 
“Believe what you will, but me and mine are the fate that await you when you die,” Father George nonchalantly informed.

 
“No,” the man denied as horror crossed his face.

 
Father nodded with a toothy, skeletal smile; all the while he was slowly tightening the noose around the man’s neck.

 
“Leave, you vile worshiper of Satan,” the man commanded as his eyes bulged.

 
Father George cackled at the audacity of the man before commenting, “He doesn’t care either.”

 
As the man’s panting became shallower and the iris’ of his eyes cloudy and blood shot, a bone white figure appeared next to Father George. The man’s eyes darted to the newcomer and begged, “What devil has come to save me?”

 
“I am no devil sir, though the men of your era would label me as such. My name is Vlad Dracul and my only duty here is to remind Father George that he can’t have your soul just yet.”

 
The man gasped as his hands reached up to his neck trying to loosen the noose.

 
Father George turned to Vlad and mournfully sighed, “You are right Milord, though that doesn’t mean I can’t leave him with a little reminder of this visit,” Father George sneered as he snapped his fingers; with nothing more than a leer Father George and Vlad disappeared into the night.

 
With that snap the man fell to his bed gasping for air; his hands around his throat and the shrill cackle of Father George’s warning in his ears. Shaking the man fell out of bed tangled in his covers. Once he managed to rise, he stumbled to his bathroom and turned the lights on. Gazing into the mirror he saw bright red rope marks burned into his skin.

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A Recommendation For You

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Hi all,

Talked to a fellow author friend of mine and she is currently running a promotion on her books. This post is solely dedicated to the author PM Barnes. PM Barnes is a horror and quirky romance novelist who enjoys telling tales that stray from the normal path of things. I guarantee that when she tells a story, you are sure to be surprised at every twist and turn.

Tony

Her newest book is Tony, a romance that walks in the same world that many of us travail every day. In her own words, TONY is not a traditional romance.

The journey you are about to undertake is going to be realistically intimate, not contrived.
Reading this is going to be like sitting in a bar with a good friend and hearing about their experience.

It is important that you know that and that you keep that in mind as you make your way through these pages.

This story is a mixture of fact and fiction, compiled from personal experience along with that of other people, both male and female, gathered up over many years and multiple occasions.

Finding the right person has never been easy.

We’ve changed as a culture.

The introduction to web dating has leveled the field a bit and opened up an array of options, but it has also brought its own set of special challenges and crazy.

Tony is a glimpse of what it looks like to find yourself single in a new city, unsure about what your long-term relationship needs are, but edging closer to the time when you have to start making concrete ideas about if you do or do not want to spend your life with someone.

The characters you’ll meet, are made up of bits of real people and their interactions. It’s edgy and because of that, you’ll have laugh-out-loud and cringe-worthy moments alike.

This tale is one of those that you’ll tell your friends about while sharing details of your own walks through the strange world of online dating.

So, sit back, grab a beer or a glass of wine and hear about what happens to Sam when she chooses to use Craigslist for more than just finding a new end table.

This is what TONY is about. Can you handle seeing the everyday world as someone just like you would see it? I highly suggest you read a romance that is more what you would see than what you would expect.

Viral Snow

When it comes to horror, I think you will absolutely love VIRAL SNOW; how can you not like the story of someone witnessing the end of humanity? Can you handle losing the thing you find most precious? This short read will have you by the heart strings as you relate to its main character, Mia. This particular read has consistent 5 star ratings and will keep you on the edge of your seat.

All of this tells me that everyone should take a quick afternoon to reside in Mia’s world.

You can find the works of PM Barnes here.

As always,

Happy Reading!!

Book Suggestions For You…

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I had a review on Chapter 1 for Fall From Grace that was less than appropriate. Rather than discuss the subject matter, the reviewer chose to denigrate me and my lineage; he followed this up by wishing death and damnation upon me. Not once did this person say  what upset them about the chapter. They went on to violate the dead with such profanity that I fail to see how they can see the joy in life. I pity that person.

While I do give props for combinations of words, there is no reason to use such distasteful words to attack an author just because you are uncomfortable with the subject matter. Whether you agree with a person on politics, religion, or any other subject, there is no need to spread vile hate because you have nothing better to do.

Now I realize that we all have different opinions on this, but this should be common sense – yes I realize that common sense is in short supply for some folks.

I am an author. It is my job to entertain with words. If you don’t like what I write, might I suggest that you read a work by someone else?

In fact, if you like horror, quirky romance or a form of erotica I invite you to read any of the works by PM Barnes. The reviews she’s gotten for her work are stellar. Five out of Five stars. Point of fact, she has a great deal going on for reviews that comes with the ability to win a FREE SIGNED COPY. You can find her books here: https://www.amazon.com/PM-Barnes/e/B00LKPYTCE

pm-deal

David Moon is also a great author of the horror and erotica genres. His work is also highly rated. Again five stars. If you didn’t care for the writing style of 50 shades, you’ll want to read The Wife’s Wicked Weekend. The quality is better by a magnitude of 100, minimum. You can find his work here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HOLVSRW

In fact, I have an author friend in Indonesia who knows how to tell a tale. Jayedi Reiji has written a novel called Nigella. You can find his work here http://www.larc-nigella.com/ He is also on Instagram – Nigellanovel.

These are not the genres I write in, but they are great authors who would love to entertain your mind in ways that you may not have explored yet.

Each and every one of these authors can be found on Facebook. You can find their work on Amazon for purchase. I truly hope you enjoy their works in ways that you may not be able to mine.

Bloody Maples

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Recently I have been working on my first ghost story/horror story. A few people have read it and they encouraged me to share it with you. This is far beyond what I normally write so I would be really appreciative of your comments on it.

The current title for this piece is Bloody Maples and it ponders what the malevolent spirits that were persecuted could want after all this time.

Happy Reading!

Tall sugar maples shaded a lifeless tree that clung to a sheer cliff bluff. Below the cliff a shallow ravine trickled with red tinged water. Frayed ropes swayed on the lower branches of the dead tree.

No birds flew overhead; even the calls of the animals died this crisp autumn night.

Clouds rolled in as the earth began to shake. Red water crested the bank as the earth shook allowing the ravine to rise and rest at the base of the maples. Lightening flashed as forms emerged from the water and stood with bowed heads at the base of the dead tree.
One figure, then another, knelt next to the tree as the water receded. It was a somber affair as nineteen figures prayed over lives long lost.

Tonight though, they weren’t here to mourn the past; they were here to celebrate the future.

Lightening cracked across the sky as another figure stepped out of the tree.
She wore an elaborately antiquated dress whose colors were as faded and luminescent as the moonlight. The only bright color that adorned her was the sparkling sapphire that shone from her eyes.

As wind howled through the trees, the woman chillingly whispered, “My children, for far too long this mortal realm has rested on our innocent souls! They shed our pure blood for the comfort of their minds. Tonight these vile mortals will lose the solace they purchased in vain!

“Tonight they shall suffer the tortures they rained upon our heads as we walk through their homes and into the dreams they hold true,” she rasped as the wind howled into the night.

A man in tattered breeches and a wide brimmed hat gracefully rose and grovelled, “For that milady, on this treacherously bright All Hallow’s Eve.”

Milady looked upon the humbled man and cooed, “Father George, you need not thank me for what The Impaler has declared a treat for his most faithful.”

Excitement fluttered through the translucent ghosts faster than a humming bird could flap its wings. The tittering exclamations of, “He remember us,” flickered faster than a candle in the wind amongst the pale group.

Milady smiled benevolently as she assured, “Most fondly does the Prince remember those that floated with him during the Mafiosi Uprising.”

The pallid ghosts gleamed like a dim light bulb under their Lady’s praise. “Now my children, let us fly while the veil weak and the moon high. Show these mortals that they have rested easy for the last time on our memories and blood. Bestow on them visions of the despairing world that they will rise to in the morning,” Milady eerily commanded.
The ghosts howled around the dead tree as their spirits rose to the highest branches and flew apart in what any observer would call a shooting star.

Clouds began to cover the pale moon and wind began to blow leaves from trees as the ghosts approached the nearest town. A final clap of thunder turned what little moonlight there was the color of blood.

One by one ghosts entered the houses of the sleeping inhabitants who were snugly in their toasty beds.

In the first house a woman wearing a tattered skirt and bonnet cruelly smiled as she entered the mind of her target. The man had the same sneer in his sleep as the judge who had condemned her, and she was delighted to stand here and show him the future that awaited him.

Slowly the form of the woman sank in to the sleeping man and his body turned blue for a moment as his mouth opened in silent horror.

Inside his mind the woman cackled, “Young Sewall, the time has come for you to taste the payment due for the crimes of your ancestors. Once you cross our realm, not even God will save you!”

“I don’t know who you are,” he whimpered.

Her ghostly face smiled in rage, revealing rotten teeth as she whispered, “The judges son doesn’t know a Good? How cruelly then, will it be as flood drowns you at the stake?”

The cracked and cackling voice of Good sent goose bumps up young Sewall’s spine as he was flung towards a stake that popped up from the fertile ground strewn with grain.

Quickly ropes bound him as a stone sprung up from the earth. Stacks of kindling and firewood surrounded his feet as blood fell from the sky.

Young Sewall’s eyes widened as the fertile ground turned to blood and slowly began to rise. “Dear God,” he horrifically uttered.

“He’s not here to save you! As in life we make our own choices after death. He may hear your screams, but he’ll not answer them, young Sewall. Thanks to the laws of the After Life, God has a strictly hands off policy.

“How does it feel to be alone and bereft of help through no cause of your own? How does it feel to be one of us,” Good snarled.

“Please, I never wronged you,” young Sewall pleaded.

“Do you not recognize a witch? While alive, I never wronged anyone either. My soul refuses to accept the fake apologies of your ancestors,” Good sneered.

“That was centuries ago,” young Sewall panicked as the blood crept up the rock he was confined to.

“Vengeance takes eternity to serve,” Good spat.

“Why haven’t you taken your rest after the courts declared you innocent? The judge professed his guilt in those dark times,” he whispered as the bloody water inched ever closer.

“They wouldn’t believe me when I was alive, why should I believe them when I am dead. Their mortal words mean nothing to one who has eternity to watch,” Good coldly explained.

“Taking my life won’t help you now,” young Sewall pleaded.

“True, but an oath I have sworn and keep it I shall. They took my life and you shall drink blood for it,” Good viciously informed as the bloody water lapped at young Sewall’s feet.

Young Sewall gazed at Good with horrified bewilderment. “Good, you’re making no sense. What happened was a tragedy!”

“As a God fearing man surely you can understand that an oath has to be kept,” she icily soothed.

“It’s not too late for your soul Good! God will forgive you for this,” young Sewall pleaded as the blood encompassed his ankles.

Good cackled as a silky male voice smoothly intoned, “Weren’t you listening? Your God has a strictly hands off policy when it comes to the living and the dead.

“I, on the other hand, reward my faithful; and they have decided the fates of those that wronged them.”

Young Sewall looked around frantically, his eyes darting in directions that his head could not swivel. “Who are you? Stop this madness,” he demanded from his bound stake.

A dark chuckle filled the air before an answer was forthcoming, “I am Vlad Tepes. Vovoid of Wallachia. In my time I was a great man, known for rewarding my faithful.

“Tell me, why should I deny Mistress Good her just reward, after such faithful service,” Vlad queried condescendingly.

“Because I’m innocent,” young Sewall screamed from his post.

“So was she, and not a single mortal care,” Vlad sneered as young Sewall slumped against his post allowing the bloody water further up his calves.

Such a pathetic sight cause Good’s cackles to turn from cruelty to delight.

Vlad sneered and responded, “Have they changed so much that the innocent still suffer?” The cold sneer of Vlad’s face was such that the metallic smell of blood mingled with feces, causing Good to cackle once more.

Vlad looked to Good as midnight skies began to lighten and bloody water faded to pure. With a light sneer on his face he commanded, “Mistress Good, our time on this plane is nearing an end this solstice eve. I would suggest you warn this modern man of that which awaits him upon crossing over to us,” he finished in a cool whisper as he faded from thought.

As the lightening flashed once more Good watched the blood drain from young Sewall’s face and assured, “Worry not young Sewall, you shall greet the sun once more. But when your time in the mortal world is through, your soul belongs to the Salem 19. We will see you again,” she promised as her shade faded with the calming waters.