First, you always have to suffer through my advertising. J I still have some books out there free. I try to keep Ghost Hunting Diary Volume I writing as T. M. Simmons free at all the e-book sites, so there's that. Dead Man Talking is free through Smashwords, if you use the coupon code SSWIN (http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/66400) You can use that same coupon code to get one of my romances there: Bittersweet Promises, writing as Trana Mae Simmons (http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/160356). I've managed to get Tennessee Waltz, a sweeter romance, to go free at Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, and Kobo. I saw a free report at Diesel the other day, so it should be available there. It's easier for y'all to do a search on those sites, so I don't clutter up the blog with distracting url's.
Of course, I hope after reading the
free books I capture your love of my stories enough to buy more of my work.
There is another mystery available, Dead Man Haunt, and Dead Man Hand should be
ready about mid-September, well prior to Halloween to set the tone for that delightful
day. Two more sets of diaries are out there for your reading pleasure, and I'll
release Volume IV close to the same time as Dead Man Hand. Winter Dreams is a
new book from me, a dark paranormal suspense. I've also re-published all of my
romances, some sweet, some sexy.
So onward to further Alan escapades.
Yesterday, Friday the 13th (I love that day), I taught my first
psychic development class for a few friends who talked me into adding that to
my already breakneck schedule. (I refuse to let that keep me from finishing
Dead Man Hand and Volume IV, don't worry!) This class isn't necessarily a
let-me-teach-you-to-see-ghosts class. We are all either writers or folks of a
creative bent. Sarah, Floyd, Amanda and Angela are my initial students; Carl
and Gloria should be coming next week. Some are writers, two are part of an
Irish Celtic band, one is an awesome designer, one creates awesome crocheted
items. Developing the psychic senses is a good way to open to the world around
us, improve our writing and other creative talents. But, of course, most folks
want to see a ghost in their lifetime, so there was that possibility included.
I decided to have the class at my
friend Angela's, since she has a young daughter and it's not always easy for
her to find a sitter if her mom is busy. She really wanted to attend, and I
wanted her there. She's become my best hunting buddy next to Aunt Belle.
I did have a couple reservations.
One was the portal behind her fireplace. The people attending the class have a
varying degree of abilities/gifts. Concentrating those all near a portal caused
me some hesitation. I haven't dealt that much with portals, and though we
stumbled around, with some help from friends, and sealed this one, I didn't
want it to pop open again.
"Do you still have the rest of
the elements we used on that portal?" I asked Angela when I arrived.
"Uh huh," she responded.
"They're still outside by the tree. Jason keeps asking me how long he'll
have to keep moving those so he can mow, and I told him probably for a long
I nodded. During our attempts to
secure that portal, we'd gone a bit overboard and used too much copper and too many magnets.
That caused its own set of problems, which abated when we carried some of it
outside to protect the house. We'll keep a close eye, and third eye, on this
one. We have more elements to use if we catch the seal losing strength.
The second "pause" was
Alan. That Alan is a strong ghost, with extremely well-developed abilities of his
own. Paranormal abilities. He's a strong communicator, and we do have to
discipline him now and then. He doesn't take to that kindly, but it has to be
done. I knew there would be no way Alan would keep his nose out of our classes.
On reflection, I decided one good point as to that was the class participants
would have a good chance of actually seeing a real ghost.
One not-so-good point would
definitely be Alan's ego. All that potential attention could "go to his
And it did.
We'd no more gathered and started
talking when Alan made his first contact. I sensed him there, and I immediately
talked to him, in front of the class. Most of them had heard me chat with a
ghost previously, although it was a different sort of communication.
"Listen, Alan," I said.
"I'm not going to tolerate any ghostly interruptions to my class. Remember
when we banished you outside?"
"Yeah," Angela added.
"You spent a couple days out by the mailbox, unable to come back in the
"We can do that again, if
you don't behave," I warned.
He pouted, but he retreated into
the kitchen to watch us from behind a curtain of beads Angela has hanging across
Alan did pretty well. He didn't
bother me even once … at first. But someone else did. About halfway through the
class, which ended up lasting over an hour and a half, I felt some energy on my
left arm. It was quite a bit fainter than the energy Alan emits, but it did
last for ten or fifteen seconds. I finally glanced aside at it, and the energy
disappeared. Concentrating on the class, I didn't spend much time on trying to
identify the source of this energy. But I didn't really need to.
Robert. The name entered
my mind. Ah, it was one of the other ghosts we had allowed to hang around
Angela's house. I talked about him once before in here.
Well, Alan evidently took the fact
that I didn't strongly reprimand Robert to heart. He thought it gave him permission
to make his presence known, too. A few minutes later, I rose and walked over to
Sarah as I made a point in the book I was using. Alan came through the curtain,
all his energy crawling up my left side. I sighed and without explaining to the
others what I was doing, flicked my fingers at Alan and chased him back into
the kitchen. He grumpily subsided.
Then Alan decided to show us he was, indeed,
the star of our little gathering. He did something that actually confirmed his
presence by showing himself to two of us in the same manner at the same time.
Angela has a picture of Frank
Sinatra on her wall, just inside the front door. I was reading from our lesson
book, and suddenly a movement caught my eye. I turned to the look at the
picture, and Frank was moving! It was like he had stepped out of the photo and
was just going back into it. Well, his upper torso had moved, anyway, since
that's all there is to the photo.
I didn't mention it right then.
However, at one point, Floyd asked, "Who's the Sinatra fan?"
"Angela's mother, I think,"
Angela had been out of the room
for a moment, taking care of her daughter. When she came back in, I repeated
Floyd's question to her.
"Oh, it's Mom and me
both," she said.
Floyd and I nodded, but at the
time, I didn't realize we both had been interested in that photo for the same
After class, we started
recapping, especially since we'd done some meditation and I wanted to know what
the others had experienced. It's a meditation focused on what the third eye is
"seeing," so it's a bit more specialized than a yoga or other type.
We all actually had a few similar experiences, saw a few of the same things, so
I knew the class was working.
Floyd kept glancing up at that
photo. Finally, he said, "I saw someone else in that photo. His image overlaid
Frank's, and he was moving."
The paranormal world still holds
a few surprises to me, and I do love a confirmation. My mouth dropped, and I
said, "Almost the same thing happened to me. I saw a movement out of the
corner of my eye, and it drew me to look at that photo. I didn't see a
different person, but by the time I looked, whatever happened was
Floyd smiled, and I went on to
explain what exactly confirmation can mean to a paranormal investigator. It's
one of the most satisfying feelings we can get. There is a lot of naysaying by
critic that we have to tolerate. So whenever validation happens, pride in our
gift quickly follows.
"What does Alan look
like?" he asked.
I deferred to Angela, and she
said, "He looks a lot like Jason, my husband,. But he's a little taller
and a bit rounder."
Floyd's response was a nod. He's still
dealing with his new gift ability, and he obviously kept mulling things over,
since I got a phone call after I got home. It was Sarah who called, though.
"Floyd wants to know if Alan
had blond hair," she said.
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, it's a rather sandy color."
She repeated what I'd said to
"Is it sort of
mop-like?" she asked next.
"Sort of. You know, he does
look somewhat like Sinatra. That same wiry build. Same color hair."
"That's who Floyd saw,"
she said. "It was a different face superimposed over Frank's face. He saw
him for a while, then he faded out."
"I caught it just as he was
fading," I said.
And smiled again at that
confirmation feeling as I hung up the phone.
We'll be continuing our classes
for about nine weeks. No, they aren't open to others at this time. I want to
see how things go. We'll also do a few ghost hunts, using our senses more
versus a lot of the technology available. Timmy, my equipment tech, insists we
have at least a few pieces, though. And of course we want a film record as we
go down this different path for a while. We'll also attend one or two Circles
in Dallas, and hopefully, will all go on an overnight after the classes. I
haven't decided yet which haunted location that will entail, but there are a
few in the running in my mind. Some are places Aunt Belle and I already
visited. One other is a new one I've always wanted to visit. That should make a
really good diary for you to enjoy!
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or in email (firstname.lastname@example.org).
I'm on Twitter at @TMSimmonsauthor.