Before my EB (ghost) hunter Jessica Backman took on a doppelganger in New Hampshire and a hundred angry souls on Ormsby Island, she had a terrifying investigation in the world famous Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx (the very cemetery I grew up next to). Originally published as a novella called The Graveyard Speaks by Samhain, it’s been out of print since 2016 when Samhain closed its doors. Hmmm, maybe Jessica can look into the ghost of Samhain.
Anyway, I found the file and for a limited time have made THE GRAVEYARD SPEAKS available for subscribers to my Dark Hunter Newsletter. So, if you haven’t already subscribed and want to see what Jessica was up to in a dark cemetery in the cold of winter, sign up today!
Some secrets can’t stay buried.
Deep in a dark, snow-covered cemetery, a terrifying, moaning apparition rises from the same grave night after night. Even the most hardened caretakers won’t go near the Spooner gravestone on their midnight rounds. Only one ghost hunter has the will to face the unknown, but at what price? In the chilling blackness, only Jessica Backman is prepared to answer the spectral cry from beyond when the graveyard speaks.
In honor of Independence Day, I’m going to give away 4 copies (for the Fourth of July…get it!) of my Mail Order Massacres novella, JUST ADD WATER, to the first 4 people who sign up for my Dark Hunter Newsletter. And even if you’re not among the four, new subscribers also get a free copy of my alien abduction terror, DARK MASTER.
Good luck and don’t forget to watch the Nathan’s hot dog eating championship. It’s always a big event in the Shea castle. Team Joey Chestnut!
All righty, I’m not exactly ho-ho-hoing just yet, but I am painfully aware of how few paychecks there are between now and the holiday season, no matter what day you celebrate. Sure, Festivus counts.
I’m going to make your shopping a wee bit easier. All subscribers to my Dark Hunter Newsletter are eligible to win several pretty cool gifts next month. First up, a 3 pack of signed Jessica Backman ghost novels. That’s right, FOREST OF SHADOWS, SINISTER ENTITY and ISLAND OF THE FORBIDDEN, all wrapped up and ready to go under the tree.
Next up is the 6 CD set of the audiobook of THE MONTAUK MONSTER, expertly done by the incredible cast at GraphicAudio. You’ve never heard an audiobook like it.
Last but not least, I’ll also be giving away one signed copy of TORTURES OF THE DAMNED.
And all you have to do is sign up for my newsletter.
I also have some big publishing news to announce. Being a subscriber means you’ll be the first to know.
So, what are you waiting for? Help me play Santa!
I’m just a week and change away from unveiling the first issue of the Dark Hunter Newsletter. Whole lot of insider info is going to be packed in there because there’s a ton of monstrous stuff coming this summer and fall.
If you want to be in on all the latest, sign up today. To sweeten the pot, anyone who signs up between now and July 4th is eligible to win a $20 Amazon gift card. The winner will be announced in the newsletter.
So, click here to join the mad monster party, or mosey on over to the Newsletter tab. The insanity dials up to 11 very, very soon…
Realistically, the end of me, you, or the entire world is always potentially the blink of an eye away. You just never know what the fates have in store. Isn’t that a pleasant way to start your day? I once studied with a Buddhist monk who taught me the most powerful meditation. In meditation, you can fixate on a breath or a singular thought – kind of like a mantra, something to center your mind.
The one he taught me was this – “I could die today.” We’d start by saying it out loud, getting quieter until it was an internal thought. The purpose was to realize how precious life was, and to savor each moment, not wasting it on endeavors and thoughts that would hinder our progress as human beings.
What if today is the day that turns your world upside down? What if everyone around you perishes, and you’re left alive, wondering what happened, why, and what the future holds? That’s the premise that started my summer release, TORTURES OF THE DAMNED. The release date is just 4 quick months away. With the world being what it is, the entire time I wrote it, I kept hoping it wasn’t a predictive tale.
To prepare you for Armageddon…I mean the book…I’ve posted an excerpt from the opening chapter. The events in the opening actually happened in my neck of the woods during the Christmas holiday in 2013. It scared the crap out of us, and no one buys the story the authorities gave us. You can click hear to read the ‘official’ story. Read on and prepare your survival kits…
boom. Boom! BOOM!
The trio of explosions ripped the biting, January night air in two. Daniel Padilla was dozing between commercials when the sky exploded. He bolted from his recliner, as did his wife, meeting in the middle of the living room.
“I think the furnace exploded,” Elizabeth shouted, balling her fists tight at her sides.
“We wouldn’t be standing here if it did,” Daniel shot back. A framed picture of the family at last summer’s picnic at Orchard Beach crashed to the floor, making them jump. That last explosion shook everything in the house.
Footsteps thumped above them. The kids ran down the stairs.
“Mom, Dad, did something just blow up?” Rey asked. His youngest brother, Miguel, clung to his leg.
Daniel motioned with his hands for them all to calm down. “I’m going to check outside. It sounded like a plane. Everyone just sit tight.”
Max, Gabriela and Miguel crowded around Elizabeth on the couch. Gabby’s cheeks were smeared with tears, her stuffed koala Cody tucked under her arm.
He ran to the closet and threw on the first coat he found. It was a track jacket that belonged to his middle son, Max. It was a size too big for Daniel but it would do.
“I’m coming with you,” Rey said, slipping into his sneakers that he kept by the front door. He must have been lying in bed listening to his iPod because his short, jet black hair was flattened on one side. His ear buds dangled around his neck.
There was no sense arguing. Rey was a senior in high school now. Some days he was more man than boy. “Okay,” Daniel said.
The frigid air stung his face and shocked his lungs when he opened the door. Lights were on in every house in the neighborhood. A good number of porches were filled with people searching the sky.
No one spoke.
There wasn’t a sound to be heard. Even the wind had stopped. Daniel didn’t feel the powdery snow around his bare feet.
He looked up and down the street and over the houses opposite them. With his high front porch, he had a clear sight line to the Bronx border. All he saw were stars blinking in a clear, black sky.
When Rey spoke, Daniel’s heart did a triple beat. “How come there aren’t any sirens?”
He was right. Whatever had happened sounded as if something massive had been blow to bits. The screech of police, fire engine and ambulance sirens should be echoing around them.
“I don’t know. Go inside and see if there’s anything on the news.”
It was still a half hour until the eleven o’clock news, but Daniel was sure this would be breaking news on the local channels.
Buck, his next door neighbor, was on his tiny porch dressed in full winter gear and wearing his cowboy hat. He was a solid guy in his early sixties with, as he himself claimed, a body made by good beer and medium rare steaks. “Holy shit, Dan. What the hell do you think that was?”
The silence was becoming more disturbing than the initial blasts. Daniel wiped a sweaty palm over his face. “I have no clue, Buck. I thought for sure it was another plane going down.”
They’d both worked in lower Manhattan on 9-11. Neither would ever forget the sounds those planes made when they hit the towers.
“I’m gonna call a friend of mine on the force,” Buck said. “I’ll come over and let you know what he says. In the meantime, you might want to put something on your feet.”
Daniel looked down at his snow-covered feet. The sight of lurking frostbite finally made him feel the cold. He shook each foot, flicking snowflakes, and went back into the house.
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I know, even I can’t believe it’s taken me 4 years to finally get off my keister and start a newsletter. Well, better late than never, unless you’re talking about squaring off with a demon, in which case never is preferred.
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