My Favorite Halloween Monster

free photo from Dreamstime

October is one of my favorite months, aside from it being my birth month. I live in Central Pennsylvania and the fall foliage hits its peak during the tenth month. The mountains are ablaze with reds, golds and oranges. The weather also becomes pleasant. Summers in Pennsylvania are usually hot and humid, but the fall, particularly early October, is refreshing—and because of this lower humidity, October’s sky seems to become a brilliant, deep, blue. I love that shade and even make mention of it in A Hunter’s Angel by calling Ian’s eyes “October blue.”

But there’s another reason I love October. I love Halloween. I spent this past weekend decorating my front porch. I do a haunted house/witch theme and dress up during Trick or Treat as a witch to hand out candy from a large, black cauldron I have over a “flaming fire.”

But despite this tribute to my inner witch... I love ghosts. I hate watching horror movies, which let’s face it are fake and fictional, but I love watching the shows on the History Channel or the Travel Channel about the most haunted places in the world. I love the story about the Winchester Mansion and how there are rooms that lead nowhere simply because the ghosts of the people killed by the Winchester Riffle told Mrs. Winchester to build them.

Or the stories of the ghosts in New Orleans and on some of the southern plantations.

I’ve actually worked in a two haunted places. The hospital I used to work at (which was no longer used as an inpatient facility when I worked there) had all kinds of stories. There are two in particular that stand out.

When the building was renovated and turned into doctor office space, the workers swore they would hear babies crying where they ripped out the old maternity ward area. The other incident happened while I was working there. Several X-ray techs had chilling experiences with a more sinister specter in the radiology department, which just happened to be in the basement where the morgue had been. One of the scariest things happened when all the department doors were opened, even the locked ones, all the garbage cans were strewn in the halls, and chairs were stacked on top of the desk in the office. This all occurred within in a ten-minute period while the tech had come up stairs to do an X-ray in the urgent care unit where I worked one evening. No one had access to the downstairs office but the tech. Needless to say, she never wanted to work alone in the evenings again, and I avoided the basement of that building like the plague!

Carlisle Historical Photo

I’ve since left that little hospital and now work on an old Army post. There have been entire books written about the ghosts that haunt Carlisle Barracks. The most scary stories come from the old Hessian Museum. This old stone building was built in 1777 by Hessian prisoners of war as a powder magazine during the Revolutionary War. But it was also their prison. Many of these mercenaries died in that small stone building. I’ve been in there, and it’s a creepy place. It’s dark and dank and cold, even though it’s not meant to be. And many people have claimed to have seen the emaciated bodies of the prisoners working on the building or inside the cells.

Yes, if this looks at all familiar it's where I had my photo shoot in March. Here's my picture standing at the very door pitured above.

Of course, the most haunted place around here is Gettysburg. In fact, one of the fun things to do in the town isn’t touring the battlefield, but taking a ghost tour. I’ll be talking about some of the most famous ghost stories from that beautiful little town on Friday on the Inkslingers Blog.

Do you have any ghost stories? And what is your favorite Halloween monster?

The serial killer stalking Clayton, Pennsylvania, isn’t all that has Chief of Police Grace Wallace worried. For a year, she’s tried to forget Special Agent Ian McHenry and now he’s the expert the FBI sent to catch the killer. She can’t stay away from him, but something primal is telling her to run to save much more than just her heart. Despite the strict code of ethics Ian vowed to follow as a vampire hunter, he craves Grace’s blood above all others. If he chooses to stay, Ian risks losing his chance at divine forgiveness. But if he leaves Grace unprotected from the evil he’s hunted for over a century, he loses more than just his soul…

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Brigit Wolfe, a born werewolf, hasn’t killed a human in over a hundred years, although now, she wonders if the animal attacking people in Silver Creek, Colorado, isn’t her. But she might have bigger problems when her cowboy neighbor, Austin Calhoun, ambles into her bar. Austin hasn’t been a vampire for long, but he is determined to prove to himself that he’s worthy of his hunter’s dagger. Brigit’s rare beauty and blade-sharp tongue enchants him. She ignites a passion he thought was dead, but is she the killer his master sent him to destroy? During Austin’s investigation regarding Brigit’s involvement in the deaths, an old crime surfaces connected to her human best friend. These two immortal enemies have to join forces to solve the mystery before someone else dies. But can they survive the heat of their own desire?

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Deleted Scene: A Hunter’s Angel

Available everywhere Ebooks are sold July 20

This week is an exciting one for me... On Friday, my first published novel, A Hunter’sAngel, releases! Yay! Throw the confetti! Pop those champagne corks!

Yeah, I’m a little hyper about it all. And I’m having a blast.

Today, just for you all, I’m sharing a special treat.  A deleted scene.  This has not been professionally edited, since I’d cut it long before I submitted it to The Wild Rose Press, so forgive any mistakes...LOL

Hope you enjoy!

Also remember to leave a comment with your email address. I’m running a contest.  (See below for details.)

~~~

Shane watched from under the large oak tree in the side yard of a dilapidated farmhouse. A mixture of blocky plastic toys, rusted farm equipment, and an engine block resting on cinderblocks were strewn over the muddy yard. In an old barn behind the house, a dim light shown between the cracks in the old oak planks. A screech and a thumping of metal hitting metal followed a chorus of curses.

“Fuck it, I’m goin’ to bed. Sheryl will just have to come here to pick ‘em up in the mornin’, if she wants ‘em that damn bad,” grumbled the young man inside the barn.

The boy was alone. The only other heartbeats near came from the old clapboard house—the young, small hearts of children.

He moved to the battered doorway of the barn-turned-garage. The plank doors hung opened, despite the cold night. Aged to twenty-four years, named Johnny Markel, recently divorced from a cheating wife, two kids... Shane ruffled through the boy’s mind further. He worked at a factory he hated, but for his kids he’d put up with the crap from his boss. Someday he’d finish the computer training and get a better job. Maybe go to real college.

Pitiful. Shane backed out of the boy’s mind and allowed him to take notice of him.

“Hey, who the hell are you?” Johnny’s brusqueness didn’t mask his spike of fear.

Shane raised a brow and smirked. “I’m your worst nightmare.”

Before the boy could react, Shane moved in behind Johnny too fast for the boy to see the maneuver. Shane entered Johnny’s mind again and paralyzed him. Panic came to the boy with blinding ferocity.

“It pleases me greatly you aren’t heeding the warnings of the local ineffectual law enforcement. You know the ones—stay inside and don’t go out at night alone.” Shane allowed Johnny control of his facial expressions, and he laughed when the boy’s eyes bugged. “You do know there is a serial killer on the loose, do you not? Oh, what is the media calling me...” Shane circled the boy and pretended to think as he tapped a finger on his cheek. “Ah, yes, the Alleghany Slasher. But trust me. I’m more frightening than any mortal killer.”

“No!” Johnny shouted when Shane gave him control of his voice.

Shane moved behind him again. “Tell me, Johnny,” Shane said near his ear like a lover. Johnny’s shock washed over Shane along with his terror. “I know a great deal more than your name, Johnny. Your simple mind reads like an open book—a very boring and uninspiring one at that. Do you believe in the undead?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Did you drug me or somethin’?”

“Oh, this modern time can be so despairing.” Again, Shane circled his prey. “Mortals are bombarded every second with information, and science has made people shortsighted and unbelieving in the unexplained, the mystical world.” He stopped and held Johnny’s gaze. “Mortals have no idea how limited their science is.”

Johnny’s mind sent a stronger signal to flee. Shane blocked it, but not before a shudder ran though Johnny’s paralyzed body.

“Why can’t I move? Lemme go!”

“Oh, some fight. I like that. Makes the blood tastier with adrenaline.” Becoming weary of the game, Shane moved in behind him again.

“Blood?” Johnny croaked. Shane let Johnny look over his shoulder, and Shane allowed his eyes to take on the demonic glow of a vampire about to feed. His canines descended. The scream that followed from the boy was piercing.

With Shane’s mental compulsion, Johnny tilted his head, offering his neck. Johnny whimpered, pathetically pleaded, “Please, I have two little kids. Don’t hurt them. They’re all I have.”

“Yes, I can hear their hearts. Dear little children, I’m sure. So innocent, so sweet.” Shane smiled, baring his teeth. The pulse at the base of Johnny’s neck beat erratically, and Shane laughed. “Ha! You didn’t even know you had a worst nightmare until you met me.”

Johnny cried out again as Shane sank his fangs into the warm flesh. Instantly, the boy stopped trying to struggle, and as Shane drained him of life, he writhed in as much complete terror as venom-induced bliss.

Once his heart stopped, Shane slit his throat with an authentic Bowie knife he’d pilfered from a French trapper he’d preyed upon along the northern Mississippi River almost two centuries ago.

He dropped the body and melted into the shadows outside.

~~~

To find out more about A Hunter’s Angel check out my website (http://ceradubois.wordpress.com/a-hunters-angel-the-book-tour/) for a schedule of my blog stops during the book tour. I will be presenting a series of short stories called The Vampire Encounters. Follow me as I interview Ian McHenry, Master Vampire Lucas Pomeroy, Vivian van Dyke Pomeroy, and have a scary run-in with Shane Chamberlain. Hope to see you along the way.

Contest: Please leave a comment and your email address.

Two Lucky Posters will get a PDF copy of Bloodwine. (for info on this short story click)—drawing to happen on July 20.

Stalker Prize: Every Poster will also be entered into a drawing of a $10 gift card from either Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice)—drawing to happen on September 1.

(Stalker means that, if you follow my book tour [link to list above], for every comment your name will go into the hat. So, for example, if you comment ten times on ten different blogs, you have ten chances at winning.)

 Good Luck!