Ghost Stories with Keena Kincaid Back to Blog
Update: Time to announce the winners! (And wow, there sure were some good ghost stories posted!). Keena picked the winner of ANAM CARA…and the lucky winner is Edie!! The winner of TIES THAT BIND is Kathleen! Congrats, ladies!
Once upon a time, as I toured a castle in the English fog, I looked up and saw a medieval re-enactor standing on the battlement, looking over the tourists gathered in the lower bailey. The authenticity of his costume was impressive, and then some. His tunic was a dull red, worn at the edges. His chain mail looked more like pewter than bright steel, and his battered helm obscured his nose and hair.
Curious as to why he was standing there alone, I pointed him out to the guy standing beside me. “Is there an English heritage event today?”
The man frowned at me, puzzled, so I pointed upward. “The re-enactor.”
He looked up the wall, then back down at me. “Who?”
I looked back up at the man, standing there in his tarnished armor. “Nothing,” I muttered and followed the tour group deeper into the castle. I saw the “re-enactor” several more times during the tour, but kept my observations to myself.
To this day, I still wonder who—or what—I saw that day. A random re-enactor? A ghost? Or did my imagination just go wild?
I will never know, but I always tell it as a ghost story simply because I love tales of haunt houses, restless spirits and things that go bump in the night. The spookier the better. So it’s no surprise that my book ANAM CARA and its sequel, TIES THAT BIND, have a ghost. The restless spirit is an underlying presence rather than active participation in the plot, but I like that he’s there, hanging out and protecting of the family who lives in the castle.
My current story is set in the fall, and though including All Hallow’s Eve would be anachronistic, I do have a scene in which someone foolishly tells my hero’s daughter a ghost story that will keep her up all night and spoil my heroine’s plans to get closer to her new husband.
The tale is a made-up one of five sisters who didn’t get along in life and now squabble in death, but for fun, I’d love to include a real-life ghostly encounter to round out the story.
If you want to play, leave a comment and a story. One commentator will win a copy of ANAM CARA just for leaving the entry (I’ll draw a name at random on Friday and announce the winner, who can chose an digital or print copy). I’ll also give away a copy of TIES THAT BIND when it comes out on Dec. 18 to the person who leaves the best ghost story.
I’m looking forward to some scary tales.
Keena Kincaid had a degree in medieval studies, which should explain why she sometimes spends a rainy afternoon reading the Domesday Book or the Oxford English Dictionary. After careers in journalism and public relations, she set out to write a medieval murder-mystery with a minstrel sleuth. At some point, her hero opted to woo the local innkeeper instead, and the murder-mystery transformed into an historical romance—a lucky break for the intended victims and her career. In addition to her debut book ANAM CARA, she’s written ART OF LOVE (the story of Abelard and Heloise the way it should have been) and TIES THAT BIND, which will be released Dec. 28. You can find her Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, http://keenakincaid.com/ and her blog, http://www.typosandall.com/.
Thanks for having me here today, Cynthia. And good luck to all the ghost story tellers.I can’t wait to be spooked.
I’m not sure that my ghost stories are terribly spooky, more… weird. I live in a 275 year old house so there are bound to be some spirits lurking here. On one occasion I was sitting in my living room and noticed a marmalade cat walking by the doorway into my small library. I had a cat the same color at the time so I decided to see what he was up to. I went to look for him in the library and he wasn’t there. He was sitting way over in my kitchen. I thought I just imagined it but another time I was talking with my visiting sister-in-law and looked over into the kitchen area and saw the marmalade cat jump from the table to the floor and disappear. I didn’t say anything but later my sister-in-law said she saw the same thing.
Then there is the time I was sleeping in one of the rooms upstairs and woke up when someone slapped my face.
And another time when my mother felt something cold brush by her when she was walking up the stairs.
Not to mention the various creaks, things being dropped, sounds of things moving when no one is in the room…
but I don’t want this to be too long!
I wish I had a ghost story, but my only contacts have been feelings that people I’ve known are sending me love from the after-life.
I enjoyed your story, and loved Susan’s about the cat. Not so much the slap on the face when she was sleeping. lol
I’m with Edie — most “visitations” feel like love to me. The only really creepy one was at a B&B in an old house in Cranston, RI. My colleague spent Sunday there in an upstairs/converted attic room and we met her at the office on Monday. When I checked in after work on Monday, she hauled me up to the hallway outside her room and made me look in the mirror there.
“Either I’m crazy, or this place is haunted and someone is looking back out of that mirror,” she said. And she’s not the kind of person to say that sort of thing.
But she was right. You couldn’t quite see the person staring back through your own reflection, but she was there. Mean with it, too.
(I already *have* Anam Cara!)
I have ghost stories in my two ghost books, plus I do paranormal investigating that things have happened in two cases back in August, but I will tell one that happened to me years ago. My geography class in high school went on a field trip to Old Town in San Diego. My best friend, Debbie and I had just finished our lunch at taco Bell and crossed the street to peek through the windows at the Whaley House since we couldn’t afford a tour. I was looking in the courtroom when i saw this woman in clothing from the 1800s and her dark hair up in a bun walk through the room to pass through then doorway to the next place. I darted over to check her out at the next window, but she wasn’t there!
Debbie and I saw the front door open and we saw couple women sitting at a desk down the hallway. We entered and went up to them, asking “Where’s the tour guide in the costume?” They said that they didn’t wear costumes (which neither were) and then one asked me to describe the woman I saw. I told her and she said, “Honey, you saw the ghost of Mrs. Whaley.”
The ghost looked as solid as me or anyone one else. Later i found out I saw what is called a full apparition.
I enjoy ghost stories, too. I have one also.
My grandfather had just passed away. We had been staying with my grandmother during his illness and had just moved back to our own house in the same town. We went out to check on my grandmother and when we arrived the front door opened and closed and the storm door flew open and closed but no one was there.
We went in to see what was going on and my grandmother said she had been awakened from a nap by the sensation of someone holding her hand. She lay there for a long time just accepting the sensation. When the sensation eased, she got up and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The door opened and closed on it’s own when our car pulled up in the driveway. Then we came in.
I always believed that Papaw came out onto the porch to greet us.
Write on,
Teresa Reasor
Some good stories, so far. Susan, I think your marmalade cat would be the perfect pet. No muss, no fuss yet company all the same.
Jeffe, that’s a great story. What did the woman look like?
Did the guides say anything else about Mrs. Whaley and why she haunts her home, Pamela?
Teresa, your story brought tears to my eyes. I love that your grandfather came back to comfort his wife. So romantic.
Oh, I wish I had such a story. I love hearing about other peoples touches with the supernatural. I would love to have such an experience, but unfortunately, nothing like that has happened to me.
I do get feelings about places though. That’s kinda cool.
Valerie
in Germany
Years ago, my five year old son woke me up in the middle of the night complaining that he wanted me to make the woman stop staring at him. I asked him what he was talking about and he replied ‘that woman in the red nightgown who comes into my room every night and stares at me’. I just chalked it up to an overactive imagination, but he did this several times. Once, I even went and laid beside him to see if I could see what he was talking about but nothing happened.
Months later, my mom came to stay with us for awhile and one morning she asked why I was walking up and down the halls the night before but would not answer when she spoke with me. I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about because once I fell asleep, I didn’t get back up again until the alarm went off that next morning.
She argued with me about it and finaly I asked how she knew it was me and not my husband or one of the boys. She said it was because they don’t wear red nightgowns.
I have never worn nor owned a red nightgown and knew nothing about my son complaining about seeing a woman in a red nightgown standing over his bed.
Oops, I meant my mother knew nothing about my son complaining about the woman in red in his bedroom
Avery, you gave me the chills!
Valerie, most of the time, all you’ve missed is a cold sweat and the creepy crawlies across your nape. 🙂
I love a good ghost story. Mine happened when I was 13 and our family was visiting my cousins who lived in an old farm house (circa early 1800s) in central Wisconsin.
The house was three stories and rambling, full of creaks and groans, being that it was set far from the big city where we’d grown up, it was much darker at night when the lights went out.
My cousins said the house was haunted. Several of them insisted that over the years they had been awakened in the middle of the night to find a figure of a woman watching them from the doorway as they slept. Her hair was done up in a bun, they said, and she wore long skirts and a shawl. They didn’t think she meant them any harm. Some even thought she was watching out for them.
I figured they were just having fun at the expense of their city cousins until one afternoon. While the younger kids were out playing in the barn, my older cousins and I set up a makeshift version of a Ouija board on a card table in the living room. We made letters out of squares of paper and arranged them in a circle on the tabletop, and we used an upturned wine glass for the pointer.
Not much happened in the beginning. We managed a yes here, a no there. It was pretty obvious that more than one of the cousins was pushing the glass around at that point, but it was good fun, so we all just kept playing along. But then something weird happened. The glass starting shooting around the table so fast that it took everything to jot down each letter quick enough to make sense of the next one.
“Danger, slide,” the cup spelled out. “Danger, slide.” It wrote the same words over and over again.
Slide? The answer had nothing to do with our question. We all looked at each other. “What’s that supposed to mean,” my cousin Pat asked.
Just then we heard shrieks of laughter outside. The younger set had apparently gotten bored in the barn and were headed to the the swingset.
“Slide,” my cousin said, and sprang away from the table. We all followed.
The little kids were bunched at the base of the slide, wanting to go up, but Ann would let them. “Look at the slide” she said, her face gray.
A piece of wire like the kind used to bale hay was strung across the slide. Anyone going down the slide could have been hurt. Or worse.
We all looked at each other eyes wide as we realized no one had been pushing the cup that time. Someone was looking out for the kids that afternoon.
Ooops, a few typos made the first entry a bit unclear. Here’s a corrected version:
I love a good ghost story. Mine happened when I was 13 and our family was visiting my cousins who lived in an old farm house (circa early 1800s) in central Wisconsin.
The house was three stories and rambling, full of creaks and groans, and being that it was set far from the big city where we’d grown up, it was much darker at night when the lights went out.
My cousins said the house was haunted. Several of them insisted that over the years they had been awakened in the middle of the night to find a figure of a woman watching them from the doorway as they slept. Her hair was done up in a bun, they said, and she wore long skirts and a shawl. They didn’t think she meant them any harm. Some even thought she was watching out for them.
I figured they were just having fun at the expense of their city cousins until one afternoon. While the younger kids were out playing in the barn, my older cousins and I set up a makeshift version of a Ouija board on a card table in the living room. We made letters out of squares of paper and arranged them in a circle on the tabletop, and we used an upturned wine glass for the pointer.
Not much happened in the beginning. We managed a yes here, a no there. It was pretty obvious that more than one of the cousins was pushing the glass around at that point, but it was good fun, so we all just kept playing along. But then something weird happened. The glass starting shooting around the table so fast that it took everything to jot down each letter quick enough to make sense of the next one.
“Danger, slide,” the cup spelled out. “Danger, slide.” It wrote the same words over and over again.
Slide? The answer had nothing to do with our question. We all looked at each other. “What’s that supposed to mean,” my cousin Pat asked.
Just then we heard shrieks of laughter outside. The younger set had apparently gotten bored in the barn and were headed to the the swingset.
“Slide,” my cousin Ann said, and sprang away from the table. We all followed.
The little kids were bunched at the base of the slide, wanting to go up, but Ann wouldn’t let them. “Look at the slide” she said, her face gray.
A piece of wire like the kind used to bale hay was strung across the slide. Anyone going down the slide could have been hurt. Or worse.
We all looked at each other eyes wide as we realized no one had been pushing the cup that time. Someone was looking out for the kids that afternoon.
I have a few ghost stories, but I’ll go with the phantom hand.
My parents’ house has visitors from the other side all the time. A little blonde haired girl is the only reoccurring ghost. I don’t know, maybe she brings her friends to visit. At first, I was the only one who saw her. I usually feel the presence first. The typical tingling on the back of the neck and my heart would race, knowing she was near.
One night, when I was about sixteen, my mother and I were the only ones up. She was in the bathtub and I was in the kitchen. She had the door open so we could talk. (She could see a portion of the kitchen from the bathtub.) All of sudden, I have the creepy feeling. I knew the little ghost girl was near, but I couldn’t see her.
My mother stops what she’s talking about and says, “Who’s in there with you?”
Of course I’m scared to death at that statement and start backing up, keeping my eyes toward our dark den(there’s a small passage way opening up to the full room), expecting the little girl to materialize there. I tell my mother, “No one is there.”
But she can’t hear me because she’s running the water. So she asks again. “Who is in there?”
Now I’m completely freaked and run into the bathroom shouting, “No one is in there with me!”
Of course my mother frowns wondering why I’m acting like a lunatic. She had thought my little brother was up and had said so. Then she says, “That’s strange, I could have sworn I saw a hand reaching for you.”
What a great ghost story, Keena! It definitely gave me chills and reminded me of my visit to St. James Fort in Kinsale, Ireland. It’s a 17th century fort where a young woman is supposed to have committed suicide by jumping off the side onto the rocks below after thinking she saw her husband killed. It was a creepy story and I swear I saw a woman in clothing that fit the period standing at the edge of the fort when I was walking along the outer wall.
As for my real ghost story, though, it involves the basement at my parents’ house. My oldest brother, my youngest sister and I have all had encounters with the ghost that haunts the basement. One night when I was showering in the bathroom down there, I swore I felt a presence. It creeped me out and I rushed through my shower as quickly as possible. When I got out of the shower and was drying off, I saw the reflection of a man in the mirror. There was nobody else anywhere near the bathroom. I’ve refused to go in there unless someone is just around the corner ever since. Sometimes I can’t even go down into the basement alone because I can feel the ghost down there. *shudder*
Hi Keena!
oh thats difficult – I’m new to the ghost world… I only remember a story from Katie MacAlister with a ghost, but just a little and innocent one…so no story from me 😉
wish you all the best!
Ina
Hi Cynthia 🙂
Thank you for having Keena Kincaid here today & thank you Keena for sharing.
All the best,
RKCharron
xoxo
OK, Karen, I’m officially creeped out. Yikes! On the other hand, Kim, it’s nice to think a ghost would be so protective. Did you ever find out who strung up the barbed wire in the first place?
Hi, Karin, it’s good to see you here. It’s odd isn’t it how our imagination takes over in creepy places and we’re really not sure what we’re seeing, but we know when it’s a ghost in our own homes. I’d stay out of that basement, too.
No need for a ghost story, RKCharron. You’re still in the drawing to win a copy of ANAM CARA.
I have lots, but I will go with this. When I was living in NY I would travel to San Antonio to work and stay wth a friend who owned Victoria’s Black Swan Inn an old Cotton plantation (A Gone With the Wind style house) I arrived late and went to my quarters well away from everyone on the 2nd floor (big house). I had a tv show to do the next day (a soft news talk show) and I called the producer to confirm I’d arrived. I was actually on my knees with the phone on the bed and my back to the gallery.Suddenly, a little girl started singing to my right shoulder. I thought “that’s strange, their daughter age 3) should be in bed, what’s she doing on the gallery alone. I looked and no one was there, but the singing was still going on, sofly, but so close it was disrupting my phone call. I told the producer, “wait, do you hear this?” I stretched my arm out with the phone, holding it right where the singing was coming from. She could hear it too! I told her I was hanging up and getting the heck out of there. I went downstairs with the family and was told that construction workers told my friend to get their daughter out of the way of the roofing debris, she just stands down there singing. When they described the girl as a blond 6 year old, my friend said she had a black haired three year old and they were probably seeing a ghost since there are so many around. And then a construction worker ran off because the girl walked right through a closed door. So I went back to my room and my friend’s two cats were sitting together looking up at the very spot where the singing was still going on, twitching their tails. I slept elsewhere. Got up te next mornng, the cats came back when the singing started again. After the tv show the producer came over with a camera crew and the cats were still there, looking up at nothing and you could hear this eery, far away humming. Freaked the camera man out!
I so enjoyed this blog and the comments everyone made. thanks for the fun!
OK, Kathleen, your story reminded me of the little girl in Buffy’s vision at the beginning of Hush. Great tale.
What great stories! Thank you, Keena, and thank you everyone for sharing! I have one, too. It’s from the Lemp Mansion. For those who don’t know, the Lemp Mansion is in St. Louis, and is one of the top 10 haunted houses in the country. The Lemp family owned one of the biggest brewing companies and several of the members committed suicide in the house. In the 1840’s Adam Lemp discovered caves beneath the area of the brewery and bought that property, too. So the house is connected to several blocks of caves beneath it. The brewing company died away with the family and the mansion is now a B&B and restaurant–a really neat place to visit. However, they have trouble keeping employees due to the paranormal activity there, and if you do stay overnight, no employees stay with you. They give you a key and come back in the morning! I have been there many times and have felt many things especially in the room where two family members died. I have not gotten to experience seeing the lady in a purple dress that many others do, though. My story involves my mother. We gave my parents tickets to a murder-mystery dinner there at the Lemp Mansion for their birthdays one year. My parents both enjoyed it immensely. But when my mother visited the ladies room, an odd thing happened. Now the ladies room isn’t your typical powder room. It’s huge, of course, but there is only one stall, surrounded on two sides with thin boards and an equally thin door. The fourth side is the wall of the room. The room also at that time held a large shower one of the rich members of the Lemp family had shipped from France and a huge barber’s chair that is rumored to be the chair where one of the suicidal members requested the barber cut his throat and end his life. Anyway, when my mother went in there, because of the way of the lighting in the room, she saw the shadow of someone in the only stall. So she stood before the large mirror, adjusted her hair and put on fresh lipstick as she waited. After several moments, no one came out, but then she heard the toilet flush, so she kept waiting. Still no one came out. When she looked closer, she no longer saw any silhouette of another woman in the stall. She knocked and there was no answer. Slowly, she pulled the door open and found the stall empty with no other door or way for anyone to leave when no one had come out into the bathroom with her!
Sorry if I’m a bit late in posting! My ghost story occurred in the West End of Louisville at the home of my husband’s first ex-wife. She had passed away recently and we were there visiting their son, who’d found her body.
It was about 10 p.m. and we were standing in the driveway near my husband’s Olds Calais. My husband and daughter were by the side of the car and I was behind it. No one was near me.
My husband and his son were talking, when all at once I felt someone shove me as if wanting me to get out of the way and I stumbled against the trunk of the car. But no one was there. Whoever or whatever it was, someone wasn’t happy that I was around.
Since my husband isn’t the type to negate such supernatural occurrences, we figured it must have been his ex-wife.
Like others above, I’ve had more than one ghostly encounter, but that was the first time I’d been physically attacked.
On a side note, years later, my husband’s son discovered the body of his step-sister in her living room. Both his mother and step-sister had died of heart attacks.
Growing up near Philly and hieing to the Jersey shore in the summer, it was inevitable I’d hear Jersey Devil stories (usually told on the trip home as we drove through the pine barrens—late a night.) I don’t remember most of them, and those I do recall, I recall only in fragments. But they gave me the willies when I was a teen.
I haven’t read any ghost stories lately, though I have in the past, so i would certainly enjoy one now.
I’m afraid I don’t have any ghost stories to tell either but I wish you luck with your next book.
Allie, a ghost that flushes? What a great story.
I think I agree with your and your husband’s assessment, Pamela. Did you go back often? And your poor step-son. He’s got to feel awful being the one to discovers his relatives dead.
Gwynlyn, I grew up in Ohio, and I’ve heard of the Jersey Devil. Friends from New Jersey say the Pine Barrens are just downright creepy.
Thanks, Diane. I appreciate you stopping by, even if you don’t have a ghost story to tell.
OK I will tell you a true store when I was twelve me and my cousin were doing what 12 year old do we were in the bath room trying to figure out how to shave are leg it was are first time shaving are legs and the we herd a load bang and went to find out what it was and all the cabinets doors where opening and closing and then the lights went on and off a few times.I’m guessing that it was a ghost ?
sasluvbooks@yahoo.com
Just last night my youngest came in my room because he was scared of our ghost. He was jabbering away when right next to us we both heard “shhhhhhh”.
What a fantastic post. I live just outside Placerville, California, which was a town active during the 1849 gold rush. There are several resident ghosts in a bar, in a hotel and one resided in the art gallery where I worked. One day my boss and another employee were behind a counter in the main show room when across the room a four foot tall ceramic vase was thrown against the wall, broke into several pieces and scratched the legs of an antique table. I used to arrive at the gallery in the morning to find paintings hanging sideways, tags ripped off the wall and lying on the floor, a pink wastebasket disappeared completely and when the offices upstairs were empty of living people, I could hear heavy footsteps of a man and doors slamming. It was an exciting place to work for five years. Then there is the hotel across the street, built in 1857 that has these two ghosts…..
My husband and I had a kid-free weekend in St. Augustine, Florida a few years ago. As I’m sure you know, St. Augustine is known for its spirits. We went on a walking ghost tour that first night and we were staying at a B&B which was old of course, by more than a hundred years. That night I didn’t sleep well and I had a frightening nightmare. In the dream, I was asleep in the bed at the B&B beside my husband when I had this vivid feeling of being lifted out of the bed and slammed to the floor at which point I woke up. Needless to say, I didn’t get much more sleep after that.
Deidre
Loved the ghost story, wish something like that would happen to me, I love stuff like that! I didnt know you could get a degree in medieval studies, something to check into. Can’t wait to read your books!
I’m thinking you’re right, Stacie. Sounds like something a ghost would do.
Oh, Clover. How eerie. What did you do after that?
The gallery sounds like a fun place to work, Paisley. I would guess working with ghosts is quite different from living with one. 🙂
OK, Deirdre, my question: Did you wake up on the floor, or was that only the dream?
I love a great ghost story! I have several, myself, which is why I enjoy writing them, also. There was the time that I was visiting the officers’ quarters at Fort Monroe, Virginia, and saw men and women in Civil War era uniforms/attire. I saw their scabbards hanging at their sides; the bell dresses of women. But most importantly, the one I remember most vividly was that my daughter was born on my mother’s birthday and they shared the same middle name. The night my mother died, in November 1989, my 10-month-old daughter cried out for the first time in months (versus sleeping through the night). To this day, I truly believe that Mom kissed her on the way to the next realm. Mom and my daughter shared a wonderful bond for a few short months that may still exist, whether she (my daughter) is aware of it or not. Nonetheless, I’ve enjoyed reading all the stories here and hope that everyone has a very, very interesting Halloween… 😉
Keena, what fun! I have only a short event to write. When I was eleven years old, my mother gave birth to a baby girl, but mom had had a terrible time with hemmorhaging before the birth, and the baby was born with brain damage. Almost two days after the birth, mom woke up and felt warmth placed on her chest, just like someone placed the baby there. Then the warmth left. A few minutes later a nurse came to tell her the baby died. Very sad, but that comforted my mother, she knew the baby was going to heaven.
Sherry
PS, while doing research for my book set in Hawaii, I came across some very entertaining ghost stories. The Nightwalkers was my favorite, you can look them up in Hawaiian lore.
I’ve heard of haunted houses, but not until we moved into
this area did we hear about a ghostly subdivision. In the first section, friends told of hearing doors open & close when only one person was home, of seeing a woman in an “old timey dress” & a man in an old style uniform. We’re in the second section, have heard the doors & faint music. My sister is in the third section & has the spookier tales. One corner of her living room is always cold. A photograph that hung in the area disappeared &
hasn’t been seen since. My niece was going to change the
decor in her room & placed folded linens on her bed. She
called her brother who was going to help. They began taking down the curtains & then turned back to the main part of the room. The once folded linens were hanging from the ceiling fan which, by the way, was not turned on! They quickly left the room! We are told the area was once an old German community and was believed to be the home of an old cemetery.
Pat Cochran
Keena,
I forgot to mention that we have a very special visitor
to our home. In 1975, we lost our next-to-the-youngest
sister to breast cancer. She left behind a 3 1/2 y/o
daughter. We raised her little girl with our children.
One day son #1 told us of Aunt Audry speaking to him.
Time went by and I began to pick up the odor of her
favorite Nina Ricci fragrance from time to time. She
seemed to announce her “arrival” with a cloud of her
perfume. This has continued through the years with the most recent visit earlier this year. The grandbabies,
as they came along, seemed to smile, kick their feet
and play, especially towards the NW corner of the living
room. We feel Audry stopped by to see how her daughter
was doing and when the babies are here, stays to play
with them. She always loved babies! We don’t “see” Audry
as often, she spends more time at her daughter’s house
watching over her two grandsons.
Pat Cochran
I love ghost stories and have enjoyed every one of them here. Thanks for sharing. Unfortunately, I do not have one, but it seems that most of the people that have had personal experiences seem to have more than one. They must be more susceptable than others… like me.
Well, here’s one: My grandmother’s brother used to live nearby, he visited us at least twice a day with his cat -who followed him everywhere- and in order to come here he had to walk past our cousins’ summer cottage. He also hated dogs, for some reason. Eventually he died and his cat had to be put down. Now, some years later my cousins who own the cottage told that their son had this imaginary friend, an old man who hates dogs, who has a cat and who passes the cottage with his cat couple of times a day in order to visit my home. They claimed, they hadn’t told anything to their son about the old man who used to live near by.
Do not have any encounters with ghosts to relate but have enjoyed reading everyone’s experiences. Loved to read ghost stories as a child and still love the supernatural.
Betty, I love the story of your daughter’s and mother’s connection. I’ve heard lots of stories of people stopping to say goodbye to their loved ones.
I’m not familiar with the nightwalkers, Sherry. Your ghost story is sad, but like Betty’s comforting. Glad your mother had the chance to say goodbye.
Pat, where is that subdivision? I want to make sure I don’t buy there. 🙂 And yet another ghost who hung out to make sure family was safe. I’m getting ideas about the power of love…
It’s good to see you here, Cats Meow. Ghost stories are necessary, and I’m glad you’re enjoying the ones submitted.
Minna, your great-uncle must have really enjoyed coming to your house. Do you ever see or feel him in the house?
Thanks for stopping by, Lindsey. I still love ghost stories, and the delicious feeling of being scared and peering into shadows to see what’s out there.
Do you ever see or feel him in the house?
Nope.
I am a ghostbuster. I visit people’s homes to help them with their ‘visitors’. Back in 1999 I had a neighbor who told me she would wake to find a small boy standing by her bed. She allowed me to enter her home and go to her bedroom where the sightings were. There were 2 closets. I opened the first…nothing. I opened the second and that little boy’s spirit rushed through my body! It was such a sweet, calm feeling. I just stood there feeling as though someone had given me a sedative. It was awesome.
On another occasion I held a seance and contacted a young man for a girl who missed him terribly. I could see him walk around the table but he wouldn’t come to me. The girl said to me ‘OK, if this is for real, tell me his nickname.’ My friend who was sitting across the table said ‘does the name Boomer mean anything to you?’
The girl said ‘yes!’ ‘that’s it!’. I dont know why he wouldn’t talk to me but I’m glad he spoke to my friend. I didn’t want this girl thinking I was yanking her chain.
Ghost stories. Hrm, well the apartment (it once was a large plantation-ish house made into apartments, but it belonged to the Greene’s who ran the Delta Queen sternwheeler; I think that is the name of the boat which is reported to be haunted too) I use to live in was reported to be haunted. There have been some instances that we just can’t explain. And from what I’ve been told, it also was on Unsolved Mysteries way back.
But – one instance. No one in my household drinks coffee. The apartment above was vacant. Well one time near the entry leading from the living room to the kitchen you could smell coffee. Only in that spot. You go further in either the kitchen or living room the smell was gone, but once you returned to the threshhold it was really strong.
Two others happened in the bedroom. There was like this I don’t know floral scent, something that I would never wear. Hubs and I smelled it. Another was waking up in the dead of the night, aware, but frozen. Like someone was holding me still. Once my heartrate picked up I was released. Very freaky. But yeah, I don’t really have any ghost stories ghost stories.
Just strange occurences
Keena, what a cool story. A ghost lost in time. Spooky and exciting! Anam Cara rocked. I’m looking forward to the sequel! Steph
I had no idea ghost-busting was an actual career, Mel. Is it exciting? Ever been slimed? Sorry, couldn’t resist. I loved that movie as a kid. Seriously, what’s it like?
A ghost that misses coffee is a ghost after my own heart, Raonaid. Did you ever find out anything about the people who’d lived there before you?
Thanks for stopping by, Steph! It’s great to see you here. Glad you liked Anam Cara, too. The sequel rocks! in my humble opinion. 🙂
Keena,
I am a ‘sensitive’. Ghost busting can be very exciting if you know what you’re doing. Never been slimed. lol!
My whole family has had experiences with the paranormal.
I’m thinking of having business cards made up. *g*
There are ways to deal with spirits. Talking, candles, smudge sticks…
Is there something in particular you’d want to know about?
No, nothing in particular, but you see these ‘ghost busting’ shows on TV and they are so staged and badly acted, that I sometimes wonder what’s it really like. 🙂
Please…don’t get me started. I think those shows are awful. I could do a much better job!