Monday, October 31, 2011

The Haunting of Marine Corps Base, Quantico

I am sad a little today, for two reasons. One being, it is the last day of the Coffin Hop. There have been some excellent blog posts this past week. And two, there is someone special I miss very much. Every Halloween I think of him and wonder what happened to my friend. This is the story of how I met that friend. What I am about to share is one hundred percent true. No facts have been altered, embellished, or falsified for any reason. This is how my husband and I remember our two years living with a paranormal entity.

My husband joined the Marine Corps before we married. Most of our engagement time was spent with him in boot camp and tech school on the other side of the country. When he graduated Tech school, he flew from Maryland to California for three days of leave. In that time, we got married and had a wonderful honeymoon camping for two days, then he left for Virginia.

I had to stay behind due to lack of housing. One month later, my husband sent me a plane ticket and I was on my way to the married life. When I arrived in our two story town home I didn’t mind that all we had was an inflatable couch, inflatable bed, two bicycles, a black and white 13”television and a stereo. I was just happy to be with my husband, until he told me that the next morning he would be gone for three days because he had guard duty.

So there I was, alone again in a new empty place. Not wanting to be in the creepy upstairs rooms, I decided I would not go upstairs while my husband was gone, which really sucked because that’s where our only bathroom was. When I needed to go, I would bolt up the stairs, do my duty, and bolt back down.

Our wedding day!
The first evening wasn’t so bad. I had no issues and slept like a baby. Night two however, was a much different story. I fell asleep on our air couch fully clothed, after a long hard day beating the pavement for work and getting to know my new place of residence. When I awoke, I was in my pajamas with a blanket and pillow. I assumed my husband must have come home at some time while I slept. I called him to say thank you, but the man had no idea what I was talking about.

I chalked it up to me just not remembering waking up, going upstairs, changing and going back downstairs to sleep. Shortly after getting off the phone though is when I became aware I was not alone.  Suddenly, I heard a door upstairs open, and footsteps across the hardwood floors walk into the bathroom. When I heard our toilet flush, I grabbed the buck knife I slept with under my pillow.  I prepared to shank an intruder as he made his way down my stairs.

 There was just one problem. All that came down the stairs was a blur that I only picked up when it walked in past my television, into the kitchen and opened my refrigerator, closed it, then returned upstairs. I freaked out! Running out of the house, I went to a neighbor’s house and called my husband. You could imagine the things he had to say to me for calling him with hocus pocus bs while he was at work, but being the great husband he is, he was able to come home to check it out.
This is the house where we lived.

He found nothing. No sign of life anywhere. Seeing how freaked out I was, he called work and asked to take a day of leave. We sat silent in the house for hours waiting for the entity to reappear. Nothing. Bored, my husband turned on the television. I forgot I had the television up all the way so I could hear the news while I sat outside to smoke.

Coming from the spare bedroom was a series of thumps as if someone was stomping on the floor.  His first thought was one of his buddies was hazing us into the neighborhood. Quickly, my husband ran up the stairs and into our second bedroom to find who was playing tricks on him and his wife, only to find nothing.

Certain it was only a colleague, my husband waited downstairs for another clue to where the jokester Marine or Marines may have been hiding. Silence was all we heard. Again comfortable that all was well, we snuggled into our couch and watched The Simpsons then went to bed upstairs.

My Marine flexin'!
As we laid on our air mattress, talking about our future plans, we were interrupted by the sound of the spare bedroom door opening. Sure he’d catch the culprit, he’d jumped out of bed and opened our bedroom door.

With his jaw on the floor, he watched as an invisible force lifted the toilet seat, flushed, walk down stairs, opened and closed the fridge, then return to the empty bedroom. You can imagine I was completely freaked out!  I was ready to pull up stakes and take off. Being the mean green fighting machine Marine my husband is, he wasn’t about to change houses because something else wanted to live there too. We would have to figure out how to live together.

In an attempt to make it slightly less frightening for me to be home alone, my husband named the ghost George and at times, encouraged me to talk to him. So whenever I needed to sweep the spare bedroom, I always knocked on the door before opening it and announced my presence. ‘Hey George, I’m just coming in to sweep up. How’s your day going?” Yes, I said it every time! I got used to falling asleep fully clothed when my husband was away and waking up in my p.j.’s with a pillow and blanket.  There were times when he’d make trip after trip to the fridge and I would yell at him. “George, you’re freaking me out. Go to your room!’ and he would remain there for the night. Sometimes I had to remind him to lower the toilet seat when he was done relieving whatever it is a ghost relieves when using the restroom.


There were times we didn’t get along so well. If the television or radio was too loud for his liking, he would start stomping like crazy. I would turn it down or yell at him to stop stomping. If he was in an especially bad mood, he would quit stomping, but repeatedly open and slam closed the extra bedroom door. It would freak people out during parties but the looks on their faces was worth it.

We lived with George for two years. Though we had some differences, he became part of our family. During the lonely times while my husband was away, he would be all I had to talk to. He never gave me a reason to fear him, even when we argued and he always made sure I had my favorite blanket. I never allowed anyone in his room without knocking first, and tried to treat him with the respect I would a person with a pulse.

When we moved, due to our housing areas being condemn, my husband and I both went into the empty room before loading the last box, and asked him to come with us. It sounds silly, but I was worried what would happen to him when the bull dozers moved in. 

For the first month in our new place I would call for George. It broke my heart every time there was no reply. I went back to our partially standing town house and begged for the guy to come stay with us. Again when I called for him, I received no response. I don’t know if he still lives in the 2900 block of Marine Corps Base Quantico, or if the demolition helped him move on, but every time I move to a new place ,I call for him in hopes maybe he did follow us after all.  I still haven’t heard from him, but if and when I do, I know I’ll be happy sharing my world with his.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday ~Coffin Hop~Give-A-Way

The Coffin Hop

Horror Web Tour

October 24-31, 2011

What better month than October for horror writers to crawl out of their coffins and spread the Halloween spirit!

Are you interested in winning great horror fiction and Halloween goodies the week of October 24-31, 2011? 

Click on the links below to participating authors' websites. Each author has a contest to enter on their site. 

Over 80 chances to win! 

the gory details:



3) THIS TOUR STARTS: Monday, October 24, 2011 at Midnight (PST)
    THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, October 31, 2011 at Midnight (PST)
    Winners will be drawn and posted November 1, 2011




***Authors have full discretion to choose an alternate winner in the event any winner fails to claim their prize(s) within 72 hours of their name being posted or after notification of win, whichever comes first. Anyone who participates in this tour is subject to these rules***
I'm posting my Six Sentence Sunday posting a little early I know. My son's is having a sleep over tonight. There is no way I'm going to be able to sit at the computer for more than a second to get anything posted with eight children varying from ages 4 to 9 running around. Don't forget to enter for a chance to win a free Ebook copy of The Demon Side, below.

Today I decided to share six sentences from one of my works in progress, Mesa Rising, a twisted tale about the underground Zombie world. Bwuahahahah! It is a work in progress so punctuation is lacking. I don't fix any of that until my revision stage. So no judging. LOL

Quick recap: one of our main character Andre, a construction worker, goes to the Mountain View Funeral home to confront Millicent for standing him up. What he finds when he enters, will forever change the simple world he knows.

“What are you doing here? You have to go now!” Meredith shouted as she tried desperately to shove Andre out of the front door. She knew in less than a minute, the steel shutters would drop down locking everyone and everything inside the Mountain View Funeral Home.

“What the hell is that?” Andre exclaimed shoving past her toward the kitchen. Strapped on the table was Ruben, a local thug, drug dealer, and rapist, struggling and moaning for help. Andre reached for the leather strap around Ruben’s right wrist, when the slamming of metal ripped through the whole house.

“Andre, I’m sorry. I tried. They’ll be coming down here soon. There is nothing I can do to help you now except to tell you to hide and pray you survive the night.”

Well I hope you enjoyed my Six Sentences (I know it was a little more than that) and be sure to check out our list of awesome Coffin Hoppers at! 

Friday, October 28, 2011


Oh, yes! it is Friday again and I am back on my game. If you're wondering what FLASH FICTION FRIDAY is well I'll tell you. You get one photo and one hundreds words, no more, no less to write a story involving the photo.This week I'm also doing a give-a-way. So for a chance to win a free E book copy of The Demon Side follow the instruction below!

Katie picked up rapid movement on the stairs. She knew her time was running out. If Benjamin wouldn’t accept her offer she’d be doom to living the rest of her nine lives at Oak Ridge as a guinea pig.  There was no way she would go back. Not after what they did to her family.

He was the only one that could save her. Hell, he was the only Warlock left in a fifty miles radius. “Please.” She begged. With his agreeing nod, the door behind Katie exploded. Instincts kicked in, she shifted taking her spot next to her Warlock.

For more great Flash Fiction please visit the blogs listed below!  (note: some blogs have explicit material. click at your own risk)
Lee Brazil :
Lisa Worrall:
Benjamin Russell:
Lani Rhea:
Katie Harper:
Patricia Logan:
Sara York :
Davee Jones :
Cyril J. Michael:
Venus Cahill:
Gemma Parkes:
Sherri Hayes:

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Daily Dose of Decadence: The Paranormal Romance Hero

Daily Dose of Decadence: The Paranormal Romance Hero: by Katie Harper In the spirit of werewolves, vampires, and all manner of things that go bump in the night, I’m going to take a moment to ...


The Coffin Hop

Horror Web Tour

October 24-31, 2011

What better month than October for horror writers to crawl out of their coffins and spread the Halloween spirit!

Are you interested in winning great horror fiction and Halloween goodies the week of October 24-31, 2011? 

Click on the links below to participating authors' websites. Each author has a contest to enter on their site. 

Over 80 chances to win! 

the gory details:



3) THIS TOUR STARTS: Monday, October 24, 2011 at Midnight (PST)
    THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, October 31, 2011 at Midnight (PST)
    Winners will be drawn and posted November 1, 2011




***Authors have full discretion to choose an alternate winner in the event any winner fails to claim their prize(s) within 72 hours of their name being posted or after notification of win, whichever comes first. Anyone who participates in this tour is subject to these rules***

It is Give-A-Way Thursday! Yay! So today there are two places you can enter to win a free copy of The Demon Side. Obviously this blog being #1 . How to enter on my blog is listed below. #2 being, Katie Harper's Blog  where she has posted a review of The Demon Side and later today will be posting an interview with yours truly. To enter on Katie's site, the rules are simple. Leave a comment and if you really want some points follow her blog as well. Okay enough raffle talk. Let's get to the coffin hop!
For today's hop, I chose a scene from The Demon Side, that I had a lot of fun writing. In this scene we follow Rahovart through hell as he makes his way to the boss man Lucifer,  to find out why he has been deemed nonviable.  

The blackness swirled around me like a dust devil, flames rose at my feet, and I was on my way. I should have done this the moment Etta walked through the door of that house. I had to put her out of mind. I had to save myself. I materialized before the first set of Iron Gates. I slowly walked toward them, expecting the first two guards to give me resistance when I commanded them to open. They gave me none. As the gates slowly lifted, I became overwhelmed with the smell of rotting corpses, brimstone, and burning flesh. Just beyond the gates lay the real entrance into Hell, a stone and dirt labyrinth filled with distorted and deformed souls trying to find their way to the intake room. It’s widely believed there are more souls in the countless tunnels than in Purgatory; it was a Purgatory all in itself. Lucifer’s idea of a test. Only the loyal, faithful, and strong could find their way. If your heart knew true darkness then it would be a short journey, but the lost could spend centuries aimlessly wondering around.

Since I became deemed expendable, my abilities no longer worked here. I would have to travel on foot, and I knew the way well. Lucifer always had a good laugh when I would take my relaxing midnight strolls through Hell, surveying every possible security risk or battle strategy the walls held, including its labyrinth.
I swatted the wisps of souls like mosquitoes out of my face as I made my way down the left tunnel. It wasn’t long before I came to the landing above the inner city, a giant hole larger than any of Earth’s metropolises—the true realm of Hell.

Lava flows and pools of liquid iron ignited gas vents, sending flames shooting upwards of two hundred feet, sometimes more, throughout the city streets. I’d forgotten the intensity of the heat here. Looking down thirty stories, I watched as millions of Demons below enjoyed their daily routines of fighting, raping, and stealing from one another.

Illuminating the skyline towered Devil’s Peak, a large, active underground volcanic mountain range. Inside its base was another series of corridors that adjoined thirteen caverns. The last of those caverns would be the throne room where I would find Lucifer. First, I would have to make it through the sea of rejects below. I readied my hand on the grip of my sword as thousands of eyes made notice of me. Most didn’t know who I was but the ones who recognized me watched my every movement closely as I walked down through the entrance of the city.

My feet crushed the corpses of weaker Demons as I marched through the city. Shoving my way through the crowded streets made me angry. Before my banishment, the whole city would drop to their knees, bowing their heads when I entered. Now I had half-breed bastards begging me for scraps of food, street mongers trying to peddle their poorly made crafts, and Succubae throwing themselves at me to distract me from their pimp trying to steal my shield and sword. Grabbing the failed thief by his neck, I slammed him down on the street. I rested the tip of my blade on his throat when I heard someone call out, “Rahovart the Heir has returned! The Heir has returned!”

Everything quieted around me. The city came to a complete stop and everyone stared in wonderment as they parted a path for me. If I wasn’t expected before, I definitely would be now. I sheathed my sword and swiftly made my way to the entrance of Devil’s Peak. Again, the guards stepped aside and opened the gates without question. The corridor to the first cavern was a short one. I stepped into the first cavern, the intake room. I was taken aback a bit when I entered. Usually the place would be packed with souls looking for acceptance into the fold.

Today it was empty. The lack of hustle and bustle throughout the caverns gave way to the beautiful gold inlaid stone carvings of famous battle scenes and falls of infamous demons—including me—which decorated the walls of the thirteen main
caverns. Each scene flickered in the light of the lava seeping through cracks, giving them an animated appearance. The rough jagged rock walls in the corridors that connected each cavern prevented any enemy surge from charging the throne room. In my Demon skin, I found them to be perfect for scratching the spots on your back that you just can’t seem to reach.
No nostalgia or comfort came from finally being home. It didn’t feel like “home” at all. I felt out of place, uneasy. As I made my way through the twelfth cavern, I couldn’t help but wonder if Master and Alastor were in the throne room laughing at me now. With me gone, Alastor was sure to take my spot by Lucifer’s side. Lucifer needed someone to do his bidding, thanks to the treaty God made him sign to never engage mere Angels and Demons in battle.
Carefully making my way down the last narrow corridor to the throne room, I took a deep breath. I stopped and studied the scene of Lucifer’s fall from grace and consequent rise to power stamped on his enormous arched golden doors.On the other side, I was sure he would be there, waiting. What would I say? What would happen? My fate rested on these questions. I could only hope that there had been a mistake made by someone other than me, and if not, once I reminded of my unfaltering loyalty to him, he would lift his damning judgment.

I flung open the doors and marched passed the guards standing at attention between each of the thirty marble pillars that held up the volcano’s ceiling. At the end of the room was a large wide staircase. At the top of the stairs, a bored Lucifer leaned back with one leg over the arm of his oversized, bejeweled, golden throne in front of a liquid iron waterfall, waiting for me.

I hope you enjoyed my excerpt for this coffin hop! Have a great day and don't forget to click follow! 

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Katie Harper Writes: The Demon Side by Heaven Leigh Eldeen....AWESOME S...

Win a free E-Copy of The Demon Side at

Katie Harper Writes: The Demon Side by Heaven Leigh Eldeen....AWESOME S...: I'm not going to introduce a character today because I read the best book I've read in a long, long time yesterday. The Demon Side by Heave...

No Vacation from Speculation: Diamond is Looking Rough #CoffinHop

No Vacation from Speculation: Diamond is Looking Rough #CoffinHop: Today's Coffin Hop post is a selection from my WIP horror novel, " PINS " : (Telemarketing is a drag and serving jobs are exhausting. Lucki...

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Katie Harper Writes: What is Faith?

Katie Harper Writes: What is Faith?: All right, untwist your panties, this isn’t going to be a religious post. I do believe in God. If you don’t, that’s OK. He probably doesn’t ...

Woohoo first review is in!!

I am truly on cloud nine!! Cameron at gave The Demon Side a read and thorough review! Woohoo Four out of Five stars! okay, here's what she said! 

Summary: When worlds collide… Every kid has problems. Every kid has even more problems when they move to a new home. But when a kid with problems moves to a new home that has a Demon living inside it—look out! Etta’s world is about to spin out of control when she encounters her new roommate—and Rahovart, that ancient trickster, is in for a few surprises too. So don’t mind all the crashing and rumbling; that’s just the normal noise Angels and Demons make when they’re fighting an epic war in the attic. One thing’s for sure: Etta and Rahovart will have to go through Hell to Heaven and back again before that old Victorian home in Quantico Town finally quiets down…

Cameron's Review:

The basic premise of Heaven Liegh Eldeen's The Demon Side is that Earth is the battleground for a war between good and evil. The “soldiers” for each side are God’s angels and Lucifer’s demons with one lone American Marine and his family caught in the middle. The prize in this war is an 18-year-old girl named Etta. Etta has been visited by demons regularly but unlike most humans she can see and hear them, particularly the demon Rahovart. The story is told from Rahovart’s POV, as the demon who possesses the house where Etta, her father John and her step-mother Rene live.

This is a truly dysfunctional household, with Rene staying drunk most of the time, John hiding a terrible secret, Etta diagnosed as a schizophrenic due to her conversations with and about demons no one else can see, and a manipulative demon living in the attic. There are many rules for demons and angels that are brought out during the story. Ms. Eldeen stays true to all of these regulations throughout the book so the plot stays authentic to the canon she establishes. That is no small feat and is a sign of a author who plans her writing and writes her plan.

The characters are well developed. I can’t say I loved all of them but I felt sympathy for most of them. They were all caught in an existence that no one would choose but was theirs to experience.

The plot has some nice surprises waiting for Etta and Rahovart toward the end. While Rahovart and Etta love each other and even feel sexual desire for one another, the lust is not acted upon. There is an evil demon, an incubus, who wants Etta to have his half-demon baby, and that provides a great deal of tension in the story.

I had a hard time putting this book down. It is exciting and I could hardly wait to find out why Rahovart came to be in this house, how will they get rid of the incubus, and what did John do in Iraq to cause a chain reaction that resulted in the situation his family now suffers. To tell you more would be to spoil the story, so you will have to find the answers for yourself.

This is a fictionalized version of religion that includes God, the devil, warrior angels and demons. Heaven Liegh Eldeen’s book The Demon Side has all of that and more. If you understand that this is a mythological tale then you will enjoy the book as the paranormal novel it is intended to be.

Rated 4 Stars by Cameron

Coffin Hop~ Post #2

Horror Web Tour

October 24-31, 2011

What better month than October for horror writers to crawl out of their coffins and spread the Halloween spirit!

Are you interested in winning great horror fiction and Halloween goodies the week of October 24-31, 2011? 

Click on the links below to participating authors' websites. Each author has a contest to enter on their site. 

Over 80 chances to win! 
the gory details:



3) THIS TOUR STARTS: Monday, October 24, 2011 at Midnight (PST)
    THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, October 31, 2011 at Midnight (PST)
    Winners will be drawn and posted November 1, 2011




***Authors have full discretion to choose an alternate winner in the event any winner fails to claim their prize(s) within 72 hours of their name being posted or after notification of win, whichever comes first. Anyone who participates in this tour is subject to these rules***

For today's Coffin Hop, I thought I'd share with you the first chapter of my Paranormal Romance novella, The Demon Side, available now at,,, and
Chapter One

De-mon (dè’men) n. [[<L daemon]] 1 an evil spirit 2 a source or agent of evil, harm, distress or ruin 3 an attendant power or spirit: genius 4 supernatural being of Greek mythology intermediate between Gods and men 5 One that has exceptional passion, drive, or effectiveness (a Demon for work) Webster’s Dictionary

I am called by many names—ghost, apparition, entity—and some have called me a vampire, but my given name is Rahovart. If you look up the definition you will find that I fall into the category of Demon. Ha-ha. “Exceptional passion,” so the definition states. It makes me laugh; for over five hundred years, I’ve only felt boredom. That is how far in my past I can remember. I’ve spent the last hundred or so years trapped in this “beautiful three-bedroom, two-full-bath, completely furnished twenty-one-hundred–square-foot Victorian with a gorgeous vista of the Potomac River located in historic Quantico Town for only fifty thousand dollars.” At least that’s how the realtor describes my “sanctuary” on the flyer.

Quantico Town is a civilian town smack dab in the middle of Marine Corps Base Quantico. Few Marines actually live in Quantico Town; they stay in base housing or the barracks where rent is free. A town of only five hundred and fifty people, it isn’t the hot spot to be for young men and women leaving home for the first time. On Potomac Avenue alone—a road only four blocks long—there are five bars, several tailors, a Domino’s pizza, a laundry mat, and a Masonic Temple. 
That pretty much makes up what the locals call Q-Town. Or so I’ve heard from my former tenants. I haven’t actually seen the town. If dusty, dingy bars or having your uniforms tailored is what you’re looking for, this is the place to be. This combination makes Quantico Town a haven for fallen souls such as me. Fifty thousand for this place is really quite the deal if you ask me. Other listings for this neighborhood are going for considerably more. The furniture alone in this house is worth twice that, being so “antique.”
Why such a deal? Rumors have it that this place is haunted by angry spirits. Strange things go bump in the night. Objects move with no explanation, and if you listen closely, you can hear the voices of Civil War soldiers and chants of the Native Americans who once danced upon the grounds. What can I say? I am a master of my craft. In three years, I have managed to get rid of seven families. According to my eavesdropping on the realtor, family number eight will be looking at the house today. A couple in their forties with what I am assuming is a teenage daughter, since the realtor talked highly of the local high schools and their cheerleading squads. Oh, how I hate cheerleaders.

This family may prove to be a little more difficult than most. The teenage girl I will scare, but her father may be a different story. He is a Marine, conditioned to be fearless and tactical. I have only come up against one other Marine in this house. He was careless enough to get one of the barrack rats pregnant, married her, and took on three bastard stepchildren. He would explain away everything I did by saying the house is just old. His wife left him, taking the kids with her after a year of torment and abuse from me, and he still would not budge. After two years and every effort on my part, let’s just say he and I finally parted ways.

Today is the day I will get a chance to size up my prey, fresh meat, new blood. When people come to look at a house, they only pay attention to creaks in the floor and whether or not there is a dishwasher. I typically use this time to play small pranks—a door closing on its own, footsteps on the stairs when no one is there, or a shadow passing by. They don’t notice, too taken aback by the cherry wood railing of the stairs, decorative trim throughout, glass French doors, and authentic crystal chandeliers that hang from vaulted ceilings. I find it all rather stuffy. Dark colors make a home for me, but never quite scream “family living.”

One o’clock. The realtor arrived late. I waited on the stairs by the front door, but to my surprise, they entered from the back door of the house, right through the kitchen.

“In here we have the dining area. As you can see, the cherry dining table seats up to eight comfortably and ties in perfectly with original accents and moldings in the room. The beautiful Swarovski crystal chandelier is a modern addition that adds just the right amount of lighting to showcase the room for any occasion.”
The realtor spoke like a seasoned con-artist. She had no heart. I guess that’s why I’ve had so many victims over the years; she has no remorse for how many people move out. She’s extremely obese but wears clothes two sizes too small and reeks of fast food onions and cheap perfume. Tacky red lipstick runs up the wrinkles on her thin chicken lips, and her hair-sprayed beehive could pass as a helmet for a crash test dummy.

Over the past twenty years, I have seen this woman swindle and cheat dozens of families. She’s only after the almighty dollar. No morals, no conscience. I wouldn’t offer her a doughnut even if she were on the street starving, much less hand her my life’s savings. Of course, I shouldn’t complain. She does a great job ensuring I have fresh souls to torture.

“If this place is so great, why’s it empty?” A sarcastic resonance rang from the girl.

“You’ll have to excuse my daughter, Mrs. Riley. The idea of having to move again has been hard on her.” A man’s voice cut through the house.

“It’s fine, fine. Will your wife be joining us today, Gunnery Sergeant? Divad?”

“No, she’s finishing up with our packing back in North Carolina. Etta and I came ahead to get things ready in our new town. We can’t have her missing any school.” 
The man’s voice held a firm tone with a bit of a high pitch to it. Maybe all of his years yelling like a buffoon in some poor schmuck’s face strained his vocal cords. I crept slowly down the stairs to get a good look at my soon-to-be roommates. Mr. Divad appeared exactly as I imagined: five-foot-nine, one hundred eighty pounds, neat short hair, and squared-off stance with his chest puffing out of his grey polo shirt. If his black dress slacks were any tighter, I’d see more of him than I would care to. He is definitely your typical all-American Marine. Physically, he seemed fit enough to take a beating, but was his mind strong enough to endure the torment that I would soon unleash on him?

Etta, on the other hand, was not what I pictured at all. She stood at least five-foot-seven with a little extra weight around her middle, putting her at maybe a hundred and sixty pounds. Her curly brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, except for long bangs that seemed to fall in her eyes every other second. She shared her father’s chocolate brown eyes, but her full lips must have come from
her mother. Her slightly baggy jeans were pulled as high as they could go and her flannel shirt covered any shape she might have. Her whole outfit and stance screamed tomboy. Etta might not be as easy to scare as I first thought.

Girly girls are easy to run off. Throw one roach in their hair, and they’re ready to pull up stakes and move across the country. Tomboys on the other hand tend to think like…well, boys. A simple cockroach or creaking door isn’t enough to scare them. I sensed that Etta would be a tough challenge. In some demented way that inspired me to be even more creative. I was ready for the test.

“On the second floor, you’ll find two spacious bedrooms and the master bedroom, which has a beautiful full bathroom.” The realtor’s raspy voice carried throughout the house. She always talked louder than she needed to. I hated attention hounds. They always took attention off of me.

Now they were coming upstairs, my favorite place to play. A good way for me to get a sense of a person and what they’re about is what I call a walkthrough. It’s basically how it sounds. I open my senses as they walk through me and gather all energy coming from their living flesh. Standing at the top of the stairs, I watched as the realtor came up, followed by Mr. Divad, and behind him, one baby step at a time, Etta.

Etta had barely made it to the third of fifteen stairs by the time her father went off looking at bedroom number two. She stared as if she knew something was wrong. She knew I stood there, waiting. A youth’s intuition—a sense many don’t ever use. The young live on what excites them at the moment. After what seemed an eternity, she made it to the last step and stopped. Her gaze moved down to my feet and traveled up until it met mine. She knew.

“Could you move please?” Etta whispered.

Without even thinking, I moved to the side and allowed her to walk past me. I spun around, dumbfounded, as she joined her father in the last bedroom. There was absolutely no way she could have seen my physical form. In all of my five hundred years stuck in this disgusting place, I have never had another being see me without me permitting it. They could feel my breath or my cold sensation, but only when I granted them the ability. How did she know? It had to be a fluke.

I sauntered into the third bedroom, taking extra measures to conceal my presence. Etta stood by the window, staring out at the murky Potomac River below. In a blink I stood next to her, tracing her long, triangular face with my gaze. She looked from the window towards me. This was getting interesting. I had to be sure she could not see me or if she did, that she knew I wasn’t friendly. I blew onto her neck. Her body shivered from my cold breath. “Stay away from me,” she spat, leaving me in total shock. Before my next trick, Mr. Divad came up behind Etta and rubbed her arms.

“Is everything okay?” Mr. Divad asked his daughter.

“Just great.” Etta pushed away from her father and just before she huffed out of the room, she threw me a long scowl.

She could see me. Not just feel me, but actually see me. Dozens of psychics and exorcists have claimed to sense spirits in this house, but not a single one ever noticed me. Every now and then one would get lucky and point my way. “He’s standing there watching us.” I never had the feeling they actually caught a glimpse of me. It was all just hoo-do-voodoo bologna they spewed so they could make a buck.

This was completely different. She saw me and she spoke directly to me, but before I could get my composure and test her again, they’d left.

I didn’t hear if they were buying the place or not. Were they coming back? If so, when would they be moving in? I had to learn more about this girl. When you’ve been around as long as I have, time just fades away, but now I counted every second as I paced back and forth waiting to see Etta come through the front door again.

Monday, October 24, 2011

My guest blog post

In my life I have had many blessings, two of them being my husband and my seven year old son. Well, my husband can be a curse and a blessing at times. With his strong, old fashioned beliefs and values, I have spent the last ten years as a stay-at-home wife and mother, which can be taxing at times.

I am by no means complaining. But, let’s face the reality of it. It doesn’t take that much time to clean a fifteen-hundred square foot home and with my son gone most of the day at school, it can get downright boring.

The selection of television programs at eleven a.m. is pathetic and overloaded with reality and soap opera shows that are slightly more entertaining than watching paint dry.  So, that rules out being a couch potato to kill time between dishes and laundry. 

I’ve tried numerous hobbies in an attempt to keep myself from going completely insane, everything from beading, puzzles, and even playing World of Warcraft. (oh yeah, level eighty, Night Elf, Druid for the win!) But, after a time, they became as monotonous and predictable as clipping toe nails.

So, one day, I get the idea that I’ll find a part-time job. HA! Yeah right. In today’s market jobs are as elusive as an albino, Do-Do Bird doing the hula, especially when you specify on your application that you can only work from nine a.m. to one p.m. and no weekends.

What does that leave a girl who is slowly asphyxiating herself with the vacuum cord?  The internet, d’uh. The hours upon hours of un-rated, unregulated, pointless, mindless entertainment the World Wide Web offers, I soon became an internet junkie. Oh, hellz yeah. Starting every day with wrapping the mouse cord around my arm, clicking for a vein, I became enthralled with the images, videos, stories, and people I found.

Still, something was lacking. Yes, I had an endless supply of instant gratification, but I wanted more. I wanted something beyond being Mr. Eldeen’s wife and Lil man’s mother. I wanted something of my own, far greater than sparkling toilets and freshly dusted DVD’s.

Then it happened. Challenged by my sister-in-law to write something different from the barrage of vampire novels we’d been sharing, I learned I could use the internet for more than killing Horde, shaman Orcs and watching videos of dancing cats.

I found this cool program, Microsoft Word, and next thing I know, I’m typing away faster than the speed of light. Okay not that fast but you get the idea. A love for writing was unearthed and the hole inside of me instantly filled over the brim. From that day forth I knew exactly what I needed to do to keep from smothering myself with my pillow.

Three months later, I had a fifty-thousand plus novel, The Demon Side, on my hands. Excited, I began submitting to every publishing house I could find. It didn’t take long before the rejection letters began pouring in. It wasn’t until I read my manuscript out loud that I realized why no one wanted my tale about a schizophrenic girl, her Marine father, and an Alcoholic step-mother moving into a home with a Demon.

The word ‘like’ appeared over three-thousand times. The fruit of my labor produced a valley girl master piece. I will admit it knocked me down a bit. The lack of my education now held a front and center position before me.

It wasn’t going to stop me though. The feeling of self-worth, confidence, pride, and fulfillment writing gave me was worth fighting for. I knew the hurdles I would have to jump, so I put on my running shoes. Researching community college after community college, the price of formal education almost pushed me out of the race a few times.

Feeling low and defeated, I turned to my beloved internet for solace, when I stumbled upon ‘What’s this?’ I thought to myself. ‘An educational website? It can’t be?’ Oh, but it was. After six days, and changing over two-thousand was’s, I knew I could be onto something. I can educate myself right from my computer chair and the only cost being my internet bill.

Searching website after website, my brain began downloading everything it missed by dropping out of high school in the tenth grade.  During one of my many searches on writing for dummies, I stumbled upon the best page ever. It advertised a place where education is free, information is endless and all you needed to access it is a bill with your current address on it. Can such a place truly exist?

It does. They call it a library. I call it my mecca. The place I go when I know I don’t know enough, such as where the heck does a comma go. My noggin still hasn’t soaked in where to place a semi colon but not only am I learning more and more every day, so is my family thanks to the children’s section of my local library.

With weekly trips to the library and countless days on Google and, it all paid off. My novella, The Demon Side, received an acceptance letter from Decadent Publishing.

But, I’m not really writing this guest blog to push my book. I wrote this in hopes it would push those who feel they need a degree to realize their dreams. You don’t. Make no mistake. I am not knocking those down who have been fortunate enough to earn their education and places on the best seller’s lists. When I have the opportunity I plan on furthering my education formally. But in the meantime, I plan on fully abusing the free resources offered by the library and internet, like an ugly red headed step child and I encourage all of you to do the same.

With all of that said, I wish you all happy self-educating and a wonderful. Thank you for your time. This is Heaven Liegh Eldeen, author of The Demon Side, signing off.


 I am so excited. Today is the beginning of the Coffin Hop Blog Tour This year drew in one hundred talented authors, sharing their tales of the morbid, twisted, frightful and down right scary.  It's an honor to be among them. So all this week, I will be posting my tales of the dark and sinister. I know how excited you must be, but please don't just stop here. There are tons of give-a-ways happening just beyond the click of your mouse. 

I know what you're thinking. Umm, Heaven, you write Paranormal Romance, not Horror/Thriller. Have no fear folks. I'm not changing genres, but I do love writing and dabbling in all kinds of different genres. I too was scared once, when asked by one of my favorite horror authors, Dan Dillard, to join in him a Scare-it-Forward project, along with other thirteen talented writers. I thought I would pass out.

Beyond just being a super huge fan (I have all of his books) and talking to him a few times on Facebook, I never thought I crossed his mind.  He probably has better things and more important people to think about than an silly unpublished wanna-be-writer (Damn that Demon of Doubt). But when I got that message, it didn't matter what he was asking me to do. I was going to do it.  Right off the gate, I agree. I mean c'mon it's Dan Dillard William Castle Who says no to them (Well, besides Stephanie Dillard, Dan's beautiful wife.) 

The next day, I kicked myself in the butt. I was going to have to write a whole chapter of a short horror story. What was I thinking? I didn't write horror. Heck, I wasn't even sure, at the time, that I even could write. And now I agreed to try and keep up with the big dogs? As I waited my for turn, I couldn't help but think this was career suicide before it even started. And then the big day came. It was my turn to write a chapter. 

Four authors had gone before me. I would solely be responsible for chapter five. It was the moment of truth. So, I did what I always do. On my right shoulder sat my angel. On my left, my devil. As I typed each word, they battled each other. 'You can do it!' my angel would holler. To which my devil would reply 'You're wasting your time trying.' Luckily enough, my angel called in for reinforcements. With my husband on her side, their word of encouragement and inspiration drowned out all that my personal Lucifer had to say. 

So, without further ado, I give to you my first and certainly not my last attempt at horror. I hope you enjoy it. For the whole story please check out


Dawn broke bringing with it the stale, dry heat of the desert. The cab of the old truck was quickly becoming an oven, broiling Marleen and Kyle inside. Marleen stirred, nestling her head into Kyle’s lap in hopes it would give her the comfort to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, the beer from the previous night was weighing heavy on her bladder, preventing her from doing so.

Unable to hold her body’s natural morning urges, Marleen hopped out of the truck, letting go of the loose hinged door. The sudden slam startled Kyle out of his dope induced slumber. Another slam rifled through the calm as Kyle exited the parked jalopy.

“What the hell babe?” Kyle said through a stifling yawn as he stretched his masculine form towards the Heavens.

“I gotta pee. I’ll be right back.” Marleen stalked off into the brush. Sneaking a glance behind her to make sure she had as much privacy as you could expect in the barren land. Behind her, Kyle jumped up and down on the back bumper calling for Aaron and Lisa to awake.

A few more paces and Marleen would be clear of any prying eyes watching her as she relieved herself. Her foot planted down on what she thought a fallen Cottonwood branch that felt oddly pulpous and stiffly rolled under her sandals. The branch released a painful moan as she pressed her foot down to solidify her step.

“Ow!” Branches don’t moan! Marleen stumbled back. Unable to correct her balance she landed butt first, scraping the bottom of her oval buttocks and erupting a mushroom cloud of hot orange sand. Through the dust a thin hand appeared reaching towards her. Instinct kicked in overriding her need to expel the pressure on her bladder. Had she had less control of her internal organs she may have just let it go. Marlene’s feet began back peddling with the speed of a road runner, dragging her butt across the desert floor. The echo of laughter broke through her silent terror. Marlene’s feet stopped cycling through the sand.

Her anger rose hotter than the mid-morning sun when she realized she had simply tripped over her brother’s leg as he slept under the umbrella of towering Cottonwood. Kyle and Lisa bared witness to the debacle. Their rolling laughs were just an irritation but the smirk on Grant’s face and unnecessary remark as he reached out to help her up was the final straw.

“Pulling a Grant?” Grant reveled in his slight comedic crack.

Marleen always took advantage of any situation to add further ridicule and embarrassment towards Grant and though he by no means made up for all of the times she laughed at his expense, he felt empowered with his small victory.

Marleen would have none of it. Smacking his hand away, she surged up dusting herself off. A million and two vile names raced through her head as she readied herself to blow up on her annoying, tag-a-long, little brother when Lisa called out.

“Hey is Aaron with you guys?”

Taking in a brief survey of the surrounding area both Marlene and Grant felt comfortable in saying that Aaron was in fact not with them.

“Not over here. Thought he was in the back of the truck with you?” Marleen hollered back to Lisa

Grant didn’t need the reminder of his lovely Lisa sleeping with Aaron. It was the reason he distanced himself from the smooching duo, finding solace in the brush of the river embankment, out of ear shot of Aaron’s overly ape-ish grunts as he mounted the object of Grant’s affection. There he could dream it was he who caressed her creamy soft skin while their dueling tongues battle to a war drum only they heard.   In his dreams Lisa was indeed his and his alone. He just prayed no one noticed the stiffened seam of his short where he wiped away the evidence of his fantasies.

“Dude probably got lost going to take a piss.”  Kyle hooted while he did his own version of watering the plants.

“Well we should go look for him.” Lisa’s seemingly worrisome tone gave Grant an idea. He saw an opportunity like no other to have just a few moments completely alone with Lisa. Maybe that would be enough time for her to see past the boy’s pocked up cheeks, lanky lean build and awkwardness and see that he was her soul mate. It was a long shot but a shot none-the-less.

“I’ll help you look Lisa.”

“Thanks Grant.”  Lisa directed a demure smile Grant’s way. It was the zap he was looking for. He felt now that he alone carried super human powers. He would single handedly defeat any evil that dared presented itself before him. He would find Aaron, forever solidifying himself as a worthy suitor in Lisa’s lavish baby blue eyes.

“Uh…you coming?”  Lisa snapped her immaculate fingers nails in the day dreamer’s face, startling him back to reality.

“Yeah. By the looks of Marleen’s pee-pee dance, I think we should look up stream.” Grant enjoyed the small giggle that fluttered from Lisa.

Marleen bounced in circles squeezing her hands between her thighs, awaiting Kyle to escort her into the sage thickets. A few effortlessly bounds, Kyle’s agile figure made his way to Marleen’s side. The two lovers went off downstream in search of nature’s port-a-potty before beginning their search for their missing friend.

Grant took the lead of the search party of two, in a desperate attempt to prove some unseen manhood, and calling for Aaron as they made their way toward the bottom of the embankment. Grant’s flip-flop gave way under the rocky sloped landscape. The bedrock tore at his thigh as he descended on the gradual incline. Just feet from the water’s edge Grant’s body lost all momentum and came to a still.

Pebbles pummeled his head as Lisa rushed to his aide in perfect Bay Watch form. Grants face turned redder than crimson of Lisa’s bikini.  The feel of her warm skin of her palm grasping his as she struggled to help him up off of his hip, eradicated all feelings of contrition. He was willing to fall a thousand times if it meant her touching him with each fall. In mid pull of his wrist, Lisa suddenly halted all movement.

“Don’t move.” Lisa’s voice was just above a church mouse’s whisper. Steadily she knelt down, picking up a large sandy beige rock. Grant’s attention was diverted from Lisa to the sound of an inner tube slowly deflating. What he found was no inner tube but a thick coil of blackened green scales mere centimeters from his right ankle.

“Okay now!” Lisa called as she hurled the stone at the venomous serpent. Grants scurried up the slope barely escaping the life threatening bite. Before a breath could be caught between them,   an ear shattering scream sent desert swallows fleeing from the trees.

The scream came from Kyle and Marleen’s direction.  It wasn’t the screaming of finding a friend who may or may not have gotten lost. It was the scream of urgency and danger.  Fueled by adrenaline Grant and Lisa bolted towards the area of the unknown emergency.

They pushed through the brush and found Kyle lifting Aaron’s limp but conscious body from the river shore. A discombobulated Marleen stood off to the side with her hands folded in front of her.  Her hands were too dainty to cover the wet ring on the front of her khaki shorts. The blazing sun above baked the aroma of sage brush and urine in air. Marleen had pissed herself.

This would seem like the perfect time to take revenge for the years Marleen punished Grant for being the younger sibling but Grant knew all too well what she must have been feeling. Shortly after his parents’ divorce he experienced a dreadful period of bed wetting on a nightly basis. Though it had been years since he felt the shame of putting on his big kid diapers just to sleep, he never forgot what it was like when someone found out about his nightly gushing’s. No. This one was off limits. No words or commiserations needed be spoken. They wouldn’t help anyways. Grant put his arms around his sister, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“I thought he was dead.” She said under her breath, just enough that only Grant could hear her.

“Hey G give me a hand.” Kyle’s bulk couldn’t carry Aaron’s dead weight on its own. Grant was hesitant to touch another naked man’s body but he was the better candidate since Marleen was practically catatonic and he definitely didn’t want the thought of Lisa touching it. He had heard enough of her doing that last night.

Grant slipped his head under Aaron’s dangled arm, pulling it over his shoulder. Lisa led the way back to truck while Kyle and Grant struggled getting a semi-conscious Aaron up the lithic, chalky riverfront, Marleen somberly followed.

“eh-uh-gno.” Aaron moaned an inaudible grumble. The motley crew ignored the mumbles of their in capacitated friend. With a heave Kyle and Grant lifted Aaron in to the bed of the Chevy.

“We na-eed ta ga-go. We ha-hafta ta lee-leave.” Aaron’s slowly articulated, warily trying to sit up.

“No way, bud. Not ‘til you sober up some or we’ll all get busted for sure.”   Kyle shoved a bag of deep fried, processed potatoes in his friends lap.

“We have to go now! She’ll kill us all!” A fully revived and panicked Aaron pushed off the bed onto his feet. Ferally he scratched on the handle of the locked truck door.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa gently laid her hand on his back in a futile attempt at soothing the wild Aaron. Aaron violently lashed his back at Lisa, flinging her into a boulder. A fraction of a second was all it took for Grant to be possessed by the full power of rage. Images of murder flashed in his eyes. Before he could register what he was doing, Grant lunged towards Aaron, slamming him into the truck with the hurricane force before pinning him by the collar of his chest against the truck door. Their eyes locked.

“Whoa G. Relax! Damn how much did you have to drink last night Aaron?”  Kyle entered the fray between the boys.

“Eyes so black. Never seen eyes so black.” Sheer terror fought tears for position in Aaron’s eyes. Obviously the four ill-equipped teens were dealing with a person who quite possibly hit his head in a drunken stooper, suffer from heat exhaustion or somehow transformed from normal, well-adjusted, hormone driven teen to a mentally unstable lunatic in a matter of hours.  Whatever the case, Grant knew they needed to contain the wild beast before anyone else got hurt.