Darkness and the urge to inflict pain were creeping into her psyche. She didn't know where it was coming from or what to do with it.

I've lost myself. Lost in the pain. The betrayal. The rage. So much rage. I hurt down to my bones and beyond. My soul screams into the endless night but never receives a response.

A poem I wrote after my Nanny’s passing, to honor her.

As soon as he entered the room, she felt off. His energy was deep, almost alluring. She felt drawn to him but also wary of him all at once.

A silly little poem about a spooky skeleton friend.

Don’t be troubled by that inexplicable sense of dread you feel, my friend. Be troubled if you’ve never felt it.

“I’m constantly surprised by how invigorating it is to be in your presence, my innocent little Light Witch.  I find myself counting the moments until we can be near each other again.” Richard stared intently at Krystal as he spoke, as if his stare alone could pull her into his arms.

Paranormal activity seems fun and exciting…until it isn’t.

A blackened figure arose from between the table and the bed, slowly and menacingly…

A house is where you might hide….if you are dead like me.

This inside scoop is for people who’ve already read Parade of Nightmares by Cynthia Seer. If you wondered how she came up with this stuff, the answers are within this post…

Never disrespect the dead.

A dark and stormy night….is how these things begin…

You can’t possibly be an effective serial killer if you are caught.

She is everything. Her innocence draws him to her. How can he resist? Or does he even really want to?

He finally found it. His perfect match. But would he be worthy of her?

With eyes as red as fire and red hair down to her backside now, Josephine stomped toward the surprised men, each step commanding more respect than the last.

Just when you think everything’s okay….it’s not.

“Before her vision went black, she saw the number display brightly showing the number 13…”

“Hello?” she whispered into the receiver, her hand shaking a little.

“Hello.” something whispered back. She nearly dropped the phone.