Author ML Bullock
  • HOME
  • STORE
  • BLOG
  • MY CATALOG
  • CONTACT
  • HOME
  • STORE
  • BLOG
  • MY CATALOG
  • CONTACT

The Intersection of Ghost Fiction and Real Paranormal Investigations

10/31/2023

0 Comments

 
​When it comes to the eerie, the creepy, and the downright spine-tingling, there's a mysterious world where fiction and reality intersect. It's a place where the ghosts of your imagination meet the real-life specters caught on your trusty EMF detector. Intrigued? You should be! Hold onto your protective amulets, because we're about to venture into the fascinating overlap of ghost fiction and actual paranormal investigations.

Blurring the Boundaries: Life Imitating Art, or Art Imitating Life

​It's the age-old chicken-or-the-ghost conundrum: which came first, the real-life haunted experience or the fictional tale? At the intersection of ghost fiction and paranormal investigation, we find a realm where the lines blur like the edges of a specter materializing in a foggy graveyard. Let's break it down, shall we?

The Cycle of Inspiration: A Haunted Ecosystem

When an author sits down to write a ghost story, where does that initial spark come from? Often, it's ripped straight from the cobwebbed pages of real-life events. Conversely, what fuels the investigator's passion to seek out what goes bump in the night? You guessed it—many a thrilling ghost story.

Historical Hauntings: Think about it. The world is littered with haunted locations, from dilapidated asylums to colonial-era taverns. These places don't just offer a space for investigators to explore; they also provide fertile ground for writers to plant the seeds of their next ghostly narrative.

Fiction as Field Guide: The eerie tales we read around campfires or under the covers often serve as an unofficial playbook for aspiring paranormal investigators. How many of us have ventured into a rumored-to-be-haunted forest or attic armed with nothing but a flashlight and a head full of ghost stories?

The Emotional Core: Fears, Tears, and Adrenaline Rushes

Ah, the sweet nectar of terror and excitement, the emotional cocktails that keep us coming back for more in both fiction and real-life investigations!

Primal Instincts: Whether you're turning the page or turning the corner in a haunted house, that tingling sensation down your spine is our ancient survival instincts kicking in. Your body doesn't care if the threat is ink on paper or an inexplicable shadow in the corner; it's preparing you for a "fight or flight" scenario either way.

Different Mediums, Same Scream: Ever noticed how you can be equally spooked by a well-crafted sentence or a sudden spike on an EMF meter? That’s no accident. The tools may differ, but the end result is the same: a heart-pounding experience that lingers long after the story ends or the investigation wraps up.

So whether you're crafting a chilling tale of phantom love or literally chasing ghosts through a deserted sanatorium, the experience feeds into a cycle—a haunting ecosystem, if you will. One realm inspires and enriches the other, creating an ever-evolving narrative that explores the boundaries of what we fear and what we can't help but be drawn to.
​
It's a dance as old as time, or at least as old as the first ghost stories told around ancient fires. And let's be honest: who among us can resist the allure of the unknown, whether presented in prose or caught on a grainy night-vision camera?

Tools of the Trade: Pen vs. EMF Detector

Ah yes, the juxtaposition of traditional and technological, the meeting ground between the pages of atmospheric ghost stories and the eerie beeps and buzzes of ghost-hunting gadgets. On the surface, they may seem worlds apart, but let's probe deeper into how closely aligned they really are.

Documentation: The Chronicles of the Unseen

Whether you're an author documenting spectral lore or an investigator recording electromagnetic anomalies, it all boils down to the act of capturing the intangible.

The Writer's Journal: Picture it—a writer huddled under a blanket, eyes squinting at a glowing laptop or scribbling furiously in a notebook. Each word is carefully chosen to encapsulate the otherworldly, to transport readers to a realm beyond our own.
​
The Investigator's Log: Now visualize an investigator in a dimly lit room, eyes trained on an array of devices—EMF detectors, infrared cameras, audio recorders. Each piece of data captured serves as a tangible imprint of the spectral, a breadcrumb in the quest to understand what lies beyond.

Detail: The Devil (or Ghost) is in the Details

If you think about it, both writing and investigating require an almost obsessive focus on detail. One wrong move, and you either lose your reader or invalidate your findings.

Crafting Atmosphere: For writers, setting is crucial. The slow creak of a floorboard, the flicker of a candle, the soft whisper in an empty room—every detail works to build a tangible world where ghosts might actually exist.
​
Methodical Approach: For investigators, the setup is equally vital. Calibration of instruments, meticulous note-taking, and precise timing can make the difference between a debunked claim and a possible paranormal event.

Hybrid Tools: The Best of Both Worlds

And let's not forget those rare instances where the two worlds collide:

Research Notes as Story Elements: Ever incorporate findings from an actual paranormal investigation into a story? The precise measurements, the temperature drops, and the fluctuating EMF levels can all lend an air of authenticity to your narrative.
​
Narrative Techniques in Investigations: Or maybe you've approached an investigation like you would a plot—setting the stage, introducing characters (both living and otherwise), and building up to a climactic reveal. A well-documented case file can read like a short story, with twists and turns that keep everyone guessing.

Crossing Over: When Fiction Takes the Field

For the rare few who are both authors and investigators, there's a unique synergy. Here's why:

Authenticity: As someone who's experienced the real thing, your ghost stories carry an air of authenticity that's hard to replicate.

Exploration: Ever based a story on an actual investigation? Or maybe you’ve scoped out new locations for your team to explore based on a ghostly tale you’ve penned? Either way, each realm enriches the other.
​
Innovation: Whether it's a fictional ghost-hunting technique that inspires real-world methods or vice versa, the cross-pollination is limitless.

Stories vs. Case Files: Different Narratives, Same Thrill

Ultimately, both ghost fiction and real-life investigations aim to do one thing: captivate.
Narrative Arc: A successful investigation often follows a similar arc to a story: Introduction, build-up, climax, and resolution.

Unanswered Questions: Whether it's a cliffhanger or an unsolved case, the allure of the unknown keeps us coming back for more.

So there you have it, the curious crossroads where the spectral denizens of our imagination meet the documented phantoms of the real world. Whether you’re a writer weaving tales of ghostly encounters or an investigator seeking to document the unknown, you’re part of a grand tradition that stretches the boundaries of what we consider possible.
​
Until next time, keep those notebooks and EMF detectors at the ready—you never know when the two worlds will intersect again. 

0 Comments

The Ghosts of Halloween Past: Celebrating Halloween in the 1970s

10/13/2023

0 Comments

 
​Hey there, spook enthusiasts!
 
Halloween is upon us, and as someone who writes about all things eerie and unsettling, I can't help but get nostalgic about the Halloweens of yesteryear. Today, I want to take you on a trick-or-treat trip down memory lane to the bell-bottomed, disco-fevered era of the 1970s!

​Costumes and Candy Corn

​Ah, the '70s! A time when costumes were homemade, candy corn was considered a food group, and trick-or-treating was an Olympic sport for us kids. Moms would break out their sewing kits to craft the perfect Wonder Woman or Dracula outfit, while dads carved pumpkins that looked more like abstract art than menacing faces. It was all part of the fun!
Picture
Halloween cookies are always a party staple!

Scary Movies That Raised Hairs

Okay, let's get to the good stuff—the films that made us jump out of our seats or hide under the blankets. The '70s gave us some of the most iconic horror movies of all time, and these were my go-to for a frighteningly good time:
 Jaws (1975) - A shark so terrifying it kept people out of the water for years!
Halloween (1978) - The film that introduced us to Michael Myers and set the tone for slasher films.
The Exorcist (1973) - Head-spinning and pea soup-spitting, need I say more?
Carrie (1976) - Proving that high school can be a literal nightmare.
The Omen (1976) - Devilish children and creepy lullabies, the perfect recipe for chills.

​Traditions: Trick or Treat, Smell My Feet!

​In the '70s, Halloween was still mainly a kids' holiday. We'd go door-to-door in our neighborhood, shouting "Trick or treat!" at the top of our lungs, and come home with pillowcases full of candy. Apple bobbing was still a thing, and "Monster Mash" was the anthem of every Halloween party.

​Pop Culture and All That Jazz
 

The pop culture of the '70s oozed into Halloween like fog from a dry ice machine. Anyone else remember trading Wacky Packages stickers or donning a "Kiss" mask complete with the tongue? Yes, Halloween in the '70s was just as much about embracing the pop culture of the time as it was about getting spooked.
 
So, there you have it, a little journey back to a simpler, albeit groovier, time of Halloween celebrations. As someone who gets to write about ghosts, goblins, and all sorts of paranormal entities today, I can't help but tip my hat to the decade that made Halloween a truly spooktacular event!
 
Wishing you all a hauntingly happy Halloween!
 
Until next time,
M. L. Bullock 
0 Comments

The Grief Files: Choosing Love and Honor

8/12/2023

0 Comments

 
​Life is about choices. Seems simplistic, right? It is, and you can interpret that in a lot of ways. In terms of relationships, I think it's important to choose how we remember those who've passed on. Believe me, I’ve had plenty of practice. It's crucial for grief survivors to recall and meditate on good memories, happy moments. But beyond that, there's a profound, almost karmic, understanding that our memories form a sacred connection with those who have left us.

Honor in Recollection​

​In a world filled with complexity and conflicts, it's easy to let negativity seep into our memories. But when it comes to remembering our departed loved ones, we are presented with a choice. A choice to honor or to be unkind with our recollections.
 
Choosing to honor those memories is not just about personal healing; it's a way to maintain the dignity and respect that our loved ones deserve. It's dishonorable, in most cases, to be unkind with our recollections. There's a wisdom in our hearts that tells us this, a kind of karmic movement that resonates with our very soul.

Embrace the Positive

​By focusing on the joy, love, and warmth that our memories hold, we're not ignoring the pain or pretending everything is fine. We are making a deliberate choice to celebrate the life and essence of those who have shaped us. This conscious act helps us form a sacred bond, a connection that transcends the boundaries of life and death.

Cherish the Connection

​The memories we choose to keep alive influence how we continue to feel, grow, and connect with our loved ones. Their wisdom, their humor, their unique personalities remain with us. Our relationships don't end; they evolve, and it's our responsibility to nurture this evolution with honor and kindness.

​Tips to Focus on Happy Memories

​1. Journaling: Write down the happy memories, the lessons learned, and the love shared. It can be a cathartic experience.
2. Create a Memory Space: Dedicate a place in your home where you keep mementos, photographs, or anything that helps you remember the joyful times.
3. Celebrate Their Life: On special anniversaries or birthdays, gather with friends and family to share stories, laugh, and remember the beautiful moments.

Conclusion

​Life's journey is intertwined with choices. The way we remember those who have left us is not just a personal reflection but a universal connection that resonates with something deeper. There's a karmic wisdom in honoring and cherishing our memories, one that aligns with our human essence. Let's choose to remember with love, with joy, and most importantly, with honor. Sometimes you have to, not just for them but for you as well.
 
0 Comments

A Ghost Story: Welcome to the Titanic

1/23/2023

3 Comments

 
The Rudolph family of Waynesville, Mississippi gathered around the television as usual, ready for their Monday night routine of watching a children’s show that had been a bit of a running joke between them. It was a show with a simple, silly premise—a group of mischievous kids up to no good—that was somehow inexplicably captivating. Enough of a Disney feel that it placated Mom and Dad's worries about exposing their children to too much television.
 
Tonight, however, the show didn't come on. Instead, static filled the screen, and Virgil Rudolph began his normal troubleshooting routine. His son Andy wanted to help his father, but Virgil was old school. He had to do these kinds of things by himself, as a man should. Virgil fiddled with the rabbit ears on top of the television set, while his wife Dara checked the connections in the back, and the two children hit the side of the set in frustration.
 
But nothing seemed to work, and the static remained, buzzy and constant. Then, as if by some unseen hand, the static began to clear, and the image on the screen began to sharpen. The Andy and Rowena clapped excitedly hoping that their Monday night routine of watching Roger and the Blinkers remained intact.
 
The family's mouths dropped in disbelief when they saw the image that slowly came into focus. It was the deck of a large, broken-down ship, engulfed in flames and bobbing in the turbulent ocean. The ship was clearly sinking, its bow slowly disappearing beneath the waves.
 
"Oh no, Virgil! Change the channel! Kids, cover your eyes!" Dara ordered as she set up trying to prevent her children from witnessing the horrors unfolding on the television screen before them.
 
But Virgil was transfixed by the horror on the screen, as was his son, Andy.
 
Though the family knew the ship was not real—that it was simply a video playing on the television—they could not tear their eyes away. It was as if they were looking into another world, a place of chaos and destruction that seemed to be so alive and so real.
 
The family noticed figures in the wreckage, clinging to the bow of the ship and desperately trying to escape. Dressed in old fashioned clothing and unable to prevent the disaster unfolding around them, the wreck victims began to slide into the ocean. Children screamed for their mothers before they drowned.
 
It was too late: the ship was already sinking too quickly.
 
Soon, the image on the television changed and the family found themselves looking at a beach, with a large crowd gathered near the shoreline. The Rudolph family watched as a row of stretchers were laid out on the sand, and people weeping and consoling each other. They knew without a doubt that this was the aftermath of the sinking ship they had just seen.
 
The family was in shock, unable to comprehend what they had just seen. How had this footage been captured? How had it been broadcast to their living room television set?
 
But the questions only increased as the television changed channels again and the family was presented with an entirely new scene: a newsroom studio, with a woman speaking in front of a large crowd. She said the footage the family had just seen was of the sinking of the HMS Titanic, a ship that had sunk in 1912, over a hundred years before the development of television and video recording.
 
Virgil Rudolph turned off the television, but the damage had been done. The family knew what they had just witnessed. A true shipwreck, a historical disaster no less. It was clear to them that the footage they had seen had been recorded live. But how was that possible? And it was equally clear that the people in the footage had been real, and that they had lived at least until they hit the icy water and perished.
 
The children wept a little as they held their parents.
 
Yes, the Rudolph family had just witnessed a recording of a century-old event that had taken place—as far as they could tell—in the middle of the ocean. But now, their curiosity was piqued.
 
The family finally made their way to bed, unable to sleep. For the first time in her life, Dara Rudolph didn't pray before bed. Instead, she asked Him questions.
 
God, what has the world come to? Why would You allow such a thing to happen to those people?
 
Eventually, Virgil Rudolph drifted off to sleep, but he was awakened by a telephone call first thing in the morning. His boss at the bank said there was an emergency meeting at the bank that morning.
 
After the meeting, Virgil did not return home. He arrived home only at the end of the day, after work.
 
"Virgil? Where have you been this whole time?" Dara asked in disbelief.
 
"Somewhere where I could get a chance to think about the footage we saw last night on television," Virgil responded, with a thoughtful look on his face.
 
"What footage? What are you talking about?" Dara asked as she finished making her famous potato salad.
 
"The footage of the sinking of the Titanic," Virgil said.
 
"What? What are you talking about?" She laughed as she poured him a glass of tea.
 
"I'm talking about seeing video footage of the real sinking of the Titanic that took place almost a hundred years ago," Virgil said, shaking his head. He couldn't believe he was telling his wife about what he had seen. But he knew she wouldn't laugh at him.
 
She set down the glass of tea and looked at him like he was crazy. "Virgil! Stop having me on. I don't know what movie you're talking about. I never saw a movie about the Titanic. Ugh. Never would I sit down and watch something like that. And neither would the kids."
 
"It wasn't a movie. I saw it happen. We all did, Dara! It may have been special effects, but it was real things! That all happened when the Titanic sank."
 
"Oh, Virgil," Dara shook her head and walked toward the television set. "The television set hasn't worked all week. Remember? You were supposed to take it to the repair shop this morning. I see that you forgot. Hey, any word on that cruise your brother Archie offered us? I'd love to take the kids on a family vacation this year."
 
Virgil stared at his wife as if she had three heads. Had he stepped into an alternate universe? Clearly, he and his wife had different memories of their recent life together.
 
Thankfully the house phone rang, and Virgil picked it up happy to have a moment to think about what was happening here.
 
"Rudolph residence. This is Virgil speaking."
 
To his surprise, the caller was his brother. They hadn't spoken since Christmas. "Hey, Virg. I've got those tickets. Pay me when you can and if you can't...well, let's just call it even. You've done so much for me."
 
"Tickets?"
 
"Yeah, you workaholic. You know, it's not a good idea to skip multiple vacations with that pretty wife of yours. She's a keeper and that means you need to keep her happy. By the way, you'll get a kick out of this year's cruise theme. Welcome Aboard the Titanic! Isn't that a hoot? I tell you; Kathy is pulling all the stops for this one. I'll pop those into the mail to you, Virg. Have a good one!"
 
Virgil woke up on the floor with Dara's worried face looming over him.
 
This couldn't be good...
 

3 Comments

A Ghost Story: Low Feather

12/7/2022

4 Comments

 
The ​Grandfather’s words stirred a forgotten song that had long been hidden away in her memory. Low Feather hummed it to herself as she made her way through the Black Forest. They were going deep into the forest and the men she led had no idea how dangerous this trip would be for them. But Low Feather couldn’t worry about that. This is what they wanted and what they paid for. As Grandfather reminded her in the presence of Adam Darcy, the expedition leader. There was purpose to that. She had a sacred trust, the trust between the tracker and the people she led.

“A sacred trust, granddaughter. You must act honorably until trust is broken.”

“Until trust is broken,” Low Feather murmured back, their dark eyes meeting one another in the smoky cabin. “I go now. I will return soon. Stay well, Grandfather.”

“Stay well, Granddaughter.”

Low Feather wondered why her grandfather hadn’t finished the saying. Maybe, like many things, the second half of the mantra were for Cherokee ears only. Somethings the white man didn’t need to know. But she knew. She remembered. She always remembered the old stories and all of Grandfather’s sayings. Low Feather hid them in her heart and pulled them out when she needed them.

She needed them now. Low Feather left her home four days ago and trust had been broken. In ways she had not imagined. The men took from her. They abused her. Even Adam Darcy could not protect her, not that he’d tried beyond a few stern shouts. In the end, he’d gone to bed and left her to fend off the other four men by herself.

She had not been successful.

The sun was about to rise. She sensed the shifting of the air, the kind that occurs between light and dark, morning and night. She put her clothes on hurriedly ignoring the pain between her legs and in her abdomen. Time to deliver the men to their destiny. She continued to hum the half-forgotten song. Adam Darcy met her outside her tent. Her eyes met his without fear. He’d betrayed her, failed her. Failed to protect her from the wild men he’d hired.

“Low Feather, what…”

No. He isn’t going to pretend with me.

“Time to see what you came for, Darcy. Get the men up. Today is the day. Now is the moment.” And there I will leave you. Forever.

“Are we really that close? We should have pressed on last night. That would have kept the men happy.” Darcy wiped at his handlebar moustache with nervous hands. He wanted to ask me about last night but Low Feather wouldn’t allow it. How dare he make excuses for the savages. Yes, they were savages, although Low Feather and her people were often stuck with that label.

If they thought me a savage, wait until they meet my ancestors!

Low Feather walked into the woods ignoring Adam Darcy’s pleas for her to wait. She would not wait. They would find her, she would make sure of it. She broke a branch, tied a piece of fabric to it. She kicked over rocks, piled up twigs. It was taking the men some time to catch up with her. Last night’s drunken behavior had left them in a stupor apparently. She had no pity for them. They had taken her honor.

Trust had been broken. The debt must be paid. 

It did not take long to come upon the cave. This had been a sacred place for her people. It was not a burial ground but a Place for Dying. Once death was achieved, the bones would be collected and gathered in a Place for Rest. No, this was a place to give up the ghost and there were many ghosts here waiting for them. The white men believed it to be a treasure house for plundering. A place that held silver and gold, but they were fools. The people of the red clay, the Cherokee cared nothing for silver and gold. Life was their treasure. The life of their tribe. The life of the people.

She was about to be one of them.

Low Feather allowed the hot tears to flow as she sang her song. The men had savagely cut her braids, keeping them as souvenirs after their dark deed. She was a maiden no longer. Her virtue stolen, Low Feather would walk into the shadow realm and seek justice there for she would find no justice in this world. But in the other world, her ancestors would deliver what she needed. All she needed to do was join them.

And when they found her, when they found the Place of Dying they would join her. They would have no choice for the dead among her people were stronger than the living among theirs.

An hour later, Adam Darcy, the Langley brothers and Arlo Tavistock were standing before the cave entrance. It didn’t take long for their eyes to make out the hanging woman.

“Oh no! Oh God! What have you idiots done? What have you done? She’s dead! Low Feather, no!” He dropped his sack of tools. This was bad. This was really bad. How would he face the Old Man now? An assault he could pay his way through that but not a death. Old Man loved his granddaughter.

He inched closer as Arlo lit a torch that lay on the ground. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he could rescue her. No, the time for rescuing was last night but he’d been afraid. Afraid of the drunken men. Afraid of what they would do. They were a murderous lot.

“Low Feather! No!” He raced toward her, Arlo beside him holding up the torch. But she was dead and already stiffening. He wanted to cut her down but something was wrong. Her head moved, the dark hair fell over her open eyes. “Did you see that?”

“What? Cut her down!”

That’s when her body swung around in a heavy movement. Suddenly, she was on the ground, on all fours, the rope still attached to her neck. She cocked her head up at them as all the men swore in unison.

Adam Darcy couldn’t move. He couldn’t run. And they weren’t alone. Low Feather rose to her feet, her head crooked to the side. She screamed like a dead wild thing.

It would be the only warning they had before the ghost swarm descended upon them.
​
They were never seen again.
 
 

4 Comments

The Superstitious Writer: A Ghost Story in the Making

10/27/2022

0 Comments

 
I sneezed seven times today. It was the first time that EVER happened and believe me, I would remember such an event. This ghost story author grew up in a very superstitious family. We were raised to count our sneezes like some people counted strikes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. (It’s one of the country folks’ storm watching secrets.) If you don’t understand ask someone from the south where thunderstorms can lead to terrible things.  
Am I the only superstitious person in the room? Can’t be. Right?

If you sneeze to five, you’ll be fine.
Sneeze to seven, you’ll go to heaven.

I don’t remember much else of that well repeated verse from my childhood but still to this day I count sneezes. My sneezes. My husband’s sneezes. Certainly, the sneezes of my children. Got to be prepared, right?

Luckily, it’s been a few hours and I haven’t sprouted wings yet. Trust me, I’m not testing God here. I’ve been close to death several times and I don’t want to invite a rematch. (See? I am superstitious and didn’t even know it.)

What about you? Did you grow up in a superstitious household? I learned to avoid stepping across water in a skirt. And certainly, you don’t whistle in the house because the devil will hear you. As I was taught these things by my elders, I accepted their warnings without questions.

I surely didn’t need the devil harassing me, so I did my best to follow the whistling rule. I may have whistled a few notes a few times because I was a rebellious child.

The skirt thing—well, I didn’t understand the consequences until much later. This superstitious warning never really applied to me as I was never one to willingly wear a skirt. I’m a tomboy. Was. Am. Will always be. No skirts for me. Especially when someone finally whispered the rest of that warning in my ear.

You can get pregnant that way!
​

I grew up accepting all these warnings on faith. 


Picture
Do you hale from a superstitious family?
Picture
In my world, birds bring omens. What about your world?
You’re probably asking yourself why I’m sharing this with you. (I’m asking myself the same question.)

If you want insight into my writing process here it is. I write ghost stories because I was taught to be spiritual. To look at the world with an extra pair of eyes. Despite all this, my sometimes living yet bewildered extended family is quite puzzled as to why I write ghost stories. I apparently have a better memory than they do.

Or perhaps, I listened more attentively to those ominous warnings and took them to heart. Either way, I believed and that’s the key to a good ghost story.

Believe the story.
Even if it’s fiction.

You see, I don’t set out to make fiction believable. I believe it from the beginning.

In a way, writing ghost stories is a bit like channeling spirits, I suppose. I don’t consciously set out to pull a haunting tale out of my brain. Instead, I offer myself up, fingers on keyboard, as a conduit for whatever bubbles to the surface in my brain, or spirit. Depending on what day it is.

And in my brain and spirit are many strange warnings from the past. Lots of odd superstitious sayings. Memories that remind me of childhood fears and of the wonderful family I evolved from.

There are lots of things I quietly tucked away and don’t think much about until I set out to write. As I am this morning. I had a plot but guess what, that’s shifting slightly because of this memory.

And just like that, everything changed when I sneezed seven times…

Now, on to writing Dead Is the Loneliest Place to Be. 
0 Comments

A Year for the Record Books! Goodbye 2021!

1/1/2022

0 Comments

 
Picture
No, that's not a groundhog. That's the rabbit that stole my heart in 2021. Her name is Butterbean. She doesn't mind at all when I pick her up and snuggle her. She likes sharing strawberries and grapes. She's the answer to all (well most of) my problems. She made 2021 bearable and for that I am grateful. See, that's the thing. The one thing I missed this year, and the year before that. I missed hugs. I missed handshakes. I missed human contact, for Pete's sake! 
So my solution was Butterbean, a lop eared, long hair Angora. She's a house pet. She has her own habitat but she also interacts with the family regularly. No free ranging rabbit though. She likes chewing cords too much. 
Picture
Picture
LISTEN
LISTEN
0 Comments

The Haunted Pauly Jail

7/7/2021

0 Comments

 
Picture
Third floor window of the Pauly Jail in Union Springs, Alabama. What do you see?

It's every paranormal lover's dream. Joining a team of knowledgeable investigators to explore a haunted location. It's my jam. (How old am I, right?)
When my friend Donna told me about investigating with the Searchers, I jumped at the chance. I've seen Shane Pittman work before and knew this would be the real deal. You can't predict whether the ghost will show up or not but it makes it easier when you like the people you're hanging out with. 
​
It was hot, sweaty and the mosquitos were thirsty for blood. Other than that, the investigation was totally worth it. I'm not going to reveal everything, this wasn't my event, again it as the Searchers but I'll share the highlights. 

Picture
It's interesting that Union Springs is located in Bullock County. That's my last name, right?  As far as the town goes, it's as if it has a paranormal battery hooked up to it. You know, super charged and energetic. Not entirely bad, not entirely good. 

Just ready to show up when you least expect it. It's not surprising considering the shocking crime (or crimes) that occurred in the old jail. But there is also a battlefield nearby along with a heartbreaking burial that I have to tell you about. Check out the picture below.  See the church? There's also a cemetery.
Picture
Also noted by the low brick wall. All the confederate soldiers are buried on the hallowed ground side. I found one, just one marker for the Union soldiers. I took several pictures of the marker but low and behold, it's not on my camera. Where it went? I have no idea. So no close up. Sorry. Sill if you're interested, it's in a public space, just travel to Union Springs, Alabama. You'll have no problem finding it. It's very close to the Log Cabin Park. 

The text on the marker said, "Union Soldiers Who Died From the Plague." And that was it. All the poor unfortunate Union soldiers, dead hundreds of miles from home, piled in together in one mass grave. It was heartbreaking. We were able to communicate with one man named Dale who very clearly wanted to move on. A member of the group prayed with the spirit and we sent him to his next destination. Those are the moments I live for, y'all. When you can help someone find peace. 

If you get a chance to investigate with the Searchers, go. They treated us well, allowed us to lead parts of the investigation and were very personable and approachable. I'm not big on fan girling, so I didn't get any photos with the guys but I encourage you to support them. They're real people who genuinely want to help. 

And I found the house I've been dreaming about. I'll tell you all about it soon.  In the meantime, follow the Searchers. They've got some interesting videos, if you need a paranormal fix. 

​--Monica Leigh

0 Comments

Are They Ghosts or Demons? Part 2

6/4/2021

1 Comment

 
In the last blog post, I discussed (in a general sense) the difference between ghost and demons. I was excited to see comments pop up. I knew I wasn't the only one that had experienced covenant dreams.

See, that's what dreams can be. The place for potential covenants. It doesn't matter if you're awake or asleep, these entities can gain deeper penetration into your life, they don't care whether you remember it or not. Whether you fully consented to it or not.
As long as the intention is there, that's all they need. You see, demons don't typically show up fully manifested. They come at you targeting areas of your life where you are unhappy. They seek incremental permission.

That doesn't make you less than or weak. That makes you human therefore a target for these creatures.

Yes, I'll kiss you. It's only a dream, right?

Maybe it is my imagination. Maybe it is not. I've been in both situations.

Sensual and seductive and perhaps even enjoyable in the beginning, the experience is strange yet memorable but despite all the oohs and ahs, the endgame is possession. Make no mistake about it there is intent here and it is always evil.
​

First the dreams become obsessive. You hope for them — invite them. It's kind of like a relationship. It's only a dream, right? 
Picture
Picture
My haunting experiences evolved from the ghostly kind to the demonic at around age fifteen.
Consensual covenants are arguments of other agreements between you and incubus or succubus. These are entities that pray upon the sexual nature of humanity. Their specialized in seducing and destroying. At first, held the welcoming even loving. Then it will become possessive.

You will find every other relationship unsatisfactory. Nothing will compare to you are demon lover. It sounds crazy to say these words out loud. A lot of women suffer with this type of attachment. It's a secret that we keep, some of us. A secret which gives the demon even more permission because it is secret. It's another incremental permission that gives them access to the dreamer.

Later, the demon demands more. Intimacies you would never consent to in your waking life. You may even experience rape or sodomy. These beings are ancient and familiar with human sexuality.

It only pleases you in exchange for access to your body and eventually your soul.
This is this is no story I'm telling you. Again, I’m not talking about ghosts. This type of demonic attachment happened to me. I endured this kind of captivity for years it is hard to break free but you can do it. I did it.

My experiences involved dreams that then became night terrors, to rape to a dark and evil haunting. Even after accepting Christ, I had a battle ahead of me and the church couldn't or wouldn't help me. I don't think they knew how because people don't talk about these kinds of things.

It's just a dream, right?

I was told to use the name of Jesus--which works if you're not captured by sleep paralysis. And then eventually it'll work but it could be minutes, hours even longer before you can think of the name or speak the name.

Don't get me wrong, the Lord is with us. He keeps us but there is a battle. The battle is real and you’re at the center of it.

If you're bound in this kind of paranormal activity at even any level the best thing to do is renounce the covenant.

Rebuking and renouncing are two different things. Saying, “I rebuke you, Satan,” will avail you little at this point. But saying, "I renounce you, Satan, or demon I break all covenants with you in the name of Jesus Christ and accept him as my Lord and Savior. Leave me forever."

That's renouncing. I’ll be covering about this subject in my book, Delivered Me From Evil. It will be out July.

Next week, I’ll be talking about ghosts. A much happier and interesting subject. 
1 Comment

Are They Ghosts or Demons?

5/20/2021

8 Comments

 
That’s a question I hear a lot from both readers and the paranormally curious. In fact, many people believe they are one and the same. That is a point of view I vigorously disagree with because of my personal experiences. There are major differences between the two, and they are as wide as any ocean.
Maybe it’s a cultural thing.

Here in the southern part of the United States, many of us have deeply held religious beliefs. For one, it’s widely accepted that when you die you immediately ascend (to heaven) or descend (to hell). Others believe you rest in your grave until the return of Jesus Christ.

I am a believer in and follower of Jesus Christ but things aren’t always as cut and dried as so-called biblical scholars would have you believe. I encourage you to do your own study about the paranormal. Didn’t Rhoda believe Peter returned as a ghost? Didn’t the disciples fear that Jesus (who was walking on the water) was a ghost at first glance? Didn’t the ghost of Samuel appear to Saul after the dead prophet had been summoned back? (I don’t advise summoning.) People have recognized ghosts for centuries—no millennia. Why is it in the scientific age we largely reject anything of a spiritual nature?  

It's a quandary. That's for sure. Are we so evolved we can't acknowledge the invisible anymore? 
Picture
Magnolia Cemetery in Mobile, Alabama. Photo credit: M.L. Bullock
Read my upcoming book Delivered Me From Evil to understand my views about death and life after death.  

We tend to forget that we are made in the image of God, a triune God. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. That’s right, I said spirit. We are made of spirit, soul and body. There is a difference between the soul and spirit. There’s a bible verse that makes this plain.

My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has exalted in God my Savior.

That’s Luke 1:46-47, in the New Testament.

Our soul is who we are, our personality, and is composed of our mind, our emotion, and our will. God created us with these faculties so we can express Him.

Our spirit, the deepest part of our being, is related to the spiritual realm: it enables us to contact and receive God Himself and interact with the spirit world.

Our body is a corpse, a created vessel that allows the spirit to receive and the soul to give and interact with the physical world. The body is only temporary whereas your spirit and soul lives on.

I don’t know why some spirits interact with us. In my experience, many confused dead return just to tell their story to someone that will listen. It’s not usually a long encounter and for me at least, it often occurs when I'm asleep. I "dream" about them, hence the reason for all my books about dream catchers. 

I am one! 

I’ve had a dead child tell me about his brother and how he liked to play a certain game with him. Afterward, he passed on in peace.

I’ve interacted with a murdered young man who attended our church once. He died in the throes of addiction and found himself still fleeing that particular demon in death. I prayed for God’s help and he moved on. (I did not promise him anything except that God loved him and would lead him to safety.)

I don’t know why some of the dead walk around their old homeplaces or visit their loved ones from time to time but I know that it happens.

But there is a difference between a dead person and a demon. Demons would very much like you to fool you. They are all tricksters of the highest order.

Demons have never lived as humans. They are corrupt beings who have their own agendas. Agendas that always involve death, disorder, and dysfunction.

Yes, there are ghosts that aren’t nice but they are not demons. You will rarely encounter one but when you do, you'll know it.

The dead that refuse to pass through the light fear judgment. Demons have already been judged and will one day be banished forever. They have nothing to lose.

Unfriendly ghosts can create problems in a home and in families for generations. However, you have authority over these types of spirits. Matthew 10:1 says, “And calling His twelve disciples to Him, Jesus gave them authority over unclean spirits, so that they could drive them out and heal every disease and sickness. And having summoned His twelve disciples, He gave to them authority over unclean spirits, so as to cast them out and to heal every disease and every sickness.”

Do a word study on the word “unclean” here and it will blow your mind. Unclean includes more than demons, my friends. Unclean spirits are the dead too. You have authority over and can create boundaries for yourself with prayer, anointed oil, sage and salt. You do not have to tolerate a haunting.

Demons operate a bit differently.

They need permission to really dig into the life of a living person and that permission isn’t as easy to recognize as you might think. The devil isn’t going to appear to you with a contract and a blood-soaked pen. (Not usually anyway.) That's only in the movies.

Permission is granted in degrees.

You ignore the things you see out the corner of your eye.

You don’t confront the shadow figures that appear in your home.

When terror strikes you out of nowhere and you feel threatened in a particular room and avoid it.

Degrees, my friend.

When we fail to take early action against the demonic those demonic entities interpret that as acceptance. An agreement. I know this from personal experience. 

Other ways you can unknowingly grant demons permission to interfere in your life is through your words. I’ve done this as a confused teenager and it took years to break that horrible covenant. Offering yourself to the darkness in exchange for ANYTHING is a huge mistake. You won’t receive what you asked for and you will put your soul in jeopardy. Not only that, you will be tormented in ways I can barely describe.

And yet another way to allow demonic activity is through dreams.

Have you ever had a sexy dream about a faceless stranger, or maybe a dream about a celebrity or someone you are attracted to? It’s natural to have those kinds of dreams but a simple kiss (or other activities) in your dream state can be considered agreements as well. You can’t stop those dreams from coming but you can recognize them for what they might potentially be--a covenant. Especially if you are a person who has abilities or sensitivities to the spirit world.

Next week I’ll share with you how to break those unwanted covenants. I hope this helps someone. Besides entertaining you with my ghost stories, it is also my passion to help the spiritually oppressed. If you have questions about this topic, be sure and post them below but please, no arguments. I won’t tolerate bullying on my website.
​
Until next time,
Monica Leigh
8 Comments
<<Previous
    Become a Patron!
    Picture
    Picture

    Categories

    All
    Carrie Jo
    Ghost Series
    Ghost Story
    Grief
    Guinevere Forever
    Gulf Coast Paranormal
    Halloween
    Haunted Case Files
    M.L. Bullock
    October
    Seven Sisters
    Shabby Hearts
    Short Stories
    The Haunting Of Joanna Storm
    Wednesday Musings

    RSS Feed

Photo from E. Krall