Why is my child licking an ice pick?

Today was an exceptionally good day for mail. My new phone arrived--one with fancy apps and the ability to Pinterest while I'm at the dentist's office. Now if I can attach a keyboard and a word processing program to it, I'd really be in business on the go. Right now I'm uploading Frank Sinatra's Got the World on a String and am looking for ghost apps. I'm in chats with clever people about possibly creating one for the GIRL'S GHOST HUNTING GUIDE and I'm kicking around ideas for a new project if it gets picked up. It'll be more of a tips apps instead of locating ghosts in a room since I'm pretty vocal on why those aren't worth the $.99 paid for it. Use your hands, people. You don't need a phone to tell you if it's colder in one spot than another.  ;)

You may have noticed the child licking ICE PICKS. Well, not ice picks. That would be terrible parenting. My story, Betrayal, is included in this great horror anthology. If you like your freaks on ice, this bad boy is for you. I'm hiding behind NO REST FOR THE WICKED, the haunted object anthology I edited for Rainstorm Press. I can't tell you how proud I am of these authors and their work, please check it and ICE PICKS out for your autumnal reading pleasure. 

Sinatra's warbling I've Got You Under My Skin. God, I love that man. 

I'm off to dance. Join me?

Bluemont Fair: September 15-16th :: Bring out yer dead!

I love fairs. They have all the charm yesteryear but dipped in batter and deep-fried for your arteries' last wish. 

This year, I've been asked to be one of the local authors at the Bluemont Fair in Bluemont, Virginia, September 15-16th from 10-5p. I'll be signing editions of the Girls' Ghost Hunting Guide and the Zombie Tarot, as well as giving away some swag from Quirk Books: posters and books from Pride & Prejudice & Zombies with each purchase (while they last). What's a fair without the undead anyway?

Hope to see you there!

Scooby Doo'd at the abandoned Oak Grove Elem. School

I have a penchant for old buildings. The more rundown and spooky they are, the better it is for me. While taking the backroads of Virginia today, I drove past this lovely and creepy specimen of abandonment. I jumped out of the car for a snap, followed by daughters 3 and 4 while daughters 2 and 5 went around the back to see what they could find back there. This isn't their first rodeo.

Daughter 3 checked the front door (against my advice, you don't know what the heck has taken up residence in these places. I wonder who she gets this from anyway?) Sooooo, I naturally had to check and make sure the chupacabra that darted across the road the night before wasn't snoozing in a cubby. Okay, maybe that wasn't a chupacabra but it sure didn't look like a deer either. More like an antelope. With fangs. Aaaanyway, I stuck my head in because I'm a genius like that, only to hear "eeee eeeee EEEEE EEEEE!" A flippin bat the size of my forearm flew down the hallway and toward...daughter 2 who had opened the corresponding back door to the school in time to be attacked by a grumpy bat. I reacted as any mother would. I shoved daughter 3 into the hallway and attempted to close the door on her. I guess I thought she was bait. I grabbed daughter 4 and ran down the steps yelling, "CHUPACABRAAAAAAAAAA" while my husband looked on. I felt like I was totally trapped in a Scooby Doo episode. All I needed was an old man in a rubber mask calling me a pesky kid.

We finished off the day with another spooky house and blackberry sundaes under a goat skywalk. How was your day?

Dreams in the Wild

Writers' dreams are weird. Last night's was about vacationing in a mansion on a lake with friends while the lake crept in under the doorways and flooded the marble floors. I didn't panic, we only moved the party onto higher furniture and I made sure to take the wine. Priorities, people.

A few weeks before that, I dreamed of visiting a family of about eleventy-hundred people who had lived in the mountains of southern Virginia for generations. Their large home was haunted and each member I spoke to held a key to the mystery of the ghosts within. To get to the house, I had to walk upstream in a clear river pausing only when I saw a cat leave its rock shelter under the water to get out of the way of my footsteps.

I see a pattern forming.

Water - mansion/large home - lots of people.

Clearly a sign that it's time for a party at my place after tubing the Shenandoah.

After that, I think I'm ready to crack open the ghost vault and get writing again. I've been writing short humor since publishing the Girls' Ghost Hunting Guide and Zombie Tarot, I love it but now I need a bit more fiction in my face.

I'm working on a fun MG proposal for my agent as well -- I can't give up bad jokes cold turkey. 

Did you hear about the man who fell into the wood chipper and lost his left side?

Don't worry, he's all right now.

I did warn you.

Barbara Cartland's sticky little secret

Okay, probably not that much of a secret but does anyone else think it's fascinating that the woman who could launch a thousand heaving bosoms would write the Magic Of Honey Cookbook? I found this today at my favorite cat-infested olde booke shoppe, how could I resist with quotes like this?

"If a man will passionately give himself up to the enjoyment of coition without indulging too great fatigue, he must live upon strengthening foods -- exciting comfits (these were mostly prepared with Honey), aromatic plants, meat, Honey, eggs, and similar viands."

Well there you go. I'm getting my Honey on. Wait. That sounds weird.