The Whispered Tales of Graves Grove

So you may have noticed that I’ve been posting a lot of book releases on this blog. Well I hope you aren’t sick of them because I have another one for you. This time it’s a comedy/horror anthology.  Perfect for the Halloween season.

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Graves Grove isn’t your ordinary town…

Nestled within the folds of the Canadian Rockies, Graves Grove probably isn’t the picturesque place you’d like to stay for long. Peculiar things happen here. The citizens seem normal superficially–they function well enough. But each one is deeply disturbed, wrapped in secrets and neuroses which drive them to strange behaviors.

And then there are all the missing children. And why is everyone afraid of that sycamore tree?

The Whispered Tales of Graves Grove is an anthology of stories taking place throughout the history of this mysterious town, from its founding to its future. Read them…if you dare.

Here are the Graves Grove Amazon links: KindlePaperback, and even Hardcover.

Proceeds will benefit Reading is Fundamental. A non-profit that helps improve literacy skills and brings a love of reading to kids across America.

And wait until I tell you the best part.

Inside the Whispered Tales of Graves Grove you can find the short stories:

“The Canadian Cottingly” and “Fairy Troubled”

(I’ll give you one guess what those are about.)

Why are these two stories so special? Well, because they were both written by me.

Hooray for being published.

But don’t just read it for my stories. Graves Grove also contains stories from lots of other authors too.

If you are looking for a spooky collection of stories to entertain you and make you laugh, then purchase the Whispered Tales of Graves Grove and support a for a good cause.

 

 

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The Feud Worth Forgetting: Part 12 (the last)

I apologize for not posting last week. I was really busy working and having Easter celebrations. But I remembered to do one now so here is one more installment of “The Feud Worth Forgetting”. I almost left this part out because I liked the note that part Eleven left off on but if I post this part it makes an even dozen. Plus I already had this written so I might as well use it.

*     *     *

The family, packed into the mini van, was settling for a long drive.

“Mom?” said Harriet.

“Yes dear.” Her mother turned around in the front seat.

“If you wanted to tell us some stories I could write them down for you.” She replied clicking her pen and placing its tip to the notebook in her lap.”

Her mom smiled. “What kind of stories did you have in mind?”

“We’re talking about Colleges earlier. How about starting there? You were an engineering major right?”

“Yes and we had to work really hard just to get in.” Mom turned back around to stare out the windshield.

“So what did you have to do?”

“Sit ins mostly. We just sat around taking up space.” She stopped and looked like she was trying really hard to remember something. She glanced over and saw that wicked grin on her husbands face. The grin she fell in love with. It was a grin that reminded her that she really didn’t want her children knowing everything that she did in college. So forgetting that she was trying to remember something she simply said, “Nothing really interesting happened in College. Just studying and learning.”

“Really nothing at all happened?” asked Carla.

“It was the sixties honey,” said their father, “No one can remember what they were doing back then.”

©  This story and subsequent parts are my own original idea and are protected under United States copy right law.

The Feud Worth Forgetting: Part Eleven

“I remembered something.” Said Juliet, standing in the hall door, her mousy brown hair was just starting to grow back in. The ugly scar from the brain surgery was still visible through the spiky follicles. The Chemo might have stolen her hair but it was the surgery to remove the tumor that had left her a past-less and almost lifeless shell for the past four months.

“What do you remember, Honey?” asked her husband.

“It came back slowly at first. It might have almost been a dream,” she angled the recliner toward the couch and sat down. “It was at night. No it was afternoon but there was a terrible thunder storm. I kept starring at my reflection in this glass door watching the rain pour down outside. And I had a canvas, a painting I had done. That one actually.” She pointed above Joel’s head to a pointillism of an old wooden fence in a field of wheat.

“Then you came in the door Jerry. And you asked if I was waiting for a ride. I said ‘no, just waiting for the rain to stop so I could walk home.’ Then you said that I would have a long wait and that you were early anyway and you could give me ride if I was willing. Then I said that I shouldn’t ride with strange men and besides the rain would ruin my painting before I could make it to the car.” Juliet stopped her narrative and rubbed her temples as if trying to coax the memory back to the surface.

Her husband picked it up where she had left off. “Then I said my name is Jerry and I work in the library. And grabbed large garbage bags from the janitors closet and we wrapped the painting in then and I drove you home.”

“Yes that’s it exactly.” She stood up from her seat. And squeezed in between her son and her husband on the couch.

“You remembered the day we first met.”

“and I think I remember when Joel was born.” She reached out and wrapped her arms around her son. “And I remember that I love you so much.”

“I love you too mom.” Tears were beginning to pool in Joel’s eyes.

Her husband embraced his family with tears running down his cheeks. “It’s good to have you back honey.” He said.

“It’s good to be back. Do you still have my painting supplies? I think I’d like to start painting again.”

“It’s all right where you left it sweetheart. I am glad you’re getting your past back.”

“No not the past. My future. I got my future back.”

 

©  This story and subsequent parts are my own original idea and are protected under United States copy right law.

The Feud Worth Forgetting: Part Ten

The girls, Harriet and Carla, pulled into the tree shrouded driveway and immediately sensed a grim stillness. They got down from the pickup which now seemed too high. They approached the house via an ever lengthening walkway to the front door.

The screen door squeaked open on it’s hinges. The sisters looked up to see their father placing two suitcases in the front hallway. “Your mother and I are going to Tennessee for a few days. If you’re coming you should probably get packed”

“Grandma?” was all Harriet could say.

Their father nodded and Carla took off to her room to start packing. Harriet was about to follow her twins example when the sound of heavy sobbing came out of her parents room. She pushed the door open and saw her Mom sitting on the bed crying into a wad of tissues. A cell phone was on the bed beside her. Harriet rushed in and wrapped her arms around her mothers shoulders.

“She didn’t even wait for me to say goodbye. Why? First she’s in the Hospital and now she’s gone. Why couldn’t she wait for me to get there?”

“Oh mom. It probably wasn’t her choice.”

Dad was standing in the door way listening, “I’ll go tell Carla that there’s no hurry now.,” he said and walked away.

“I just wish so much knowledge hadn’t died with her.” Mom said wiping her eyes again. “She was trying to find the truth in some of my Grandma’s old stories. At one time she had this great big book of Family History and your grandma had it traced almost back to the Revolutionary War.”

“What happened to it?”

It wasn’t Harriet who asked this.

Looking up from her tear soaked tissue pulp mom saw Carla standing in the doorway, her father’s arm resting on her shoulders. “I can’t really say. Mom must have found something bad in her research. Because she came home and burned it all. She said, ‘Alison remember, some things were meant to be forgotten.’ And then she threw what looked like an old diary into the flames after her family research book.”

“Wow.” Was all either of the girls could think of to say.

“I wish I could remember my Grandmas stories. I should have written them down.” Carla came in and joined her mother and sister on the bed. The closeness of her children started another round of tears in Alison daughter of Carolina Gellervice. “If I had only taken more of an interest in her research. Maybe I could have stopped her from burning our Family history.”

Dad finally entered the room. “Not if she was right.” He stood his wife up and held her in his embrace. “Maybe some things should be forgotten.”

©  This story and subsequent parts are my own original idea and are protected under United States copy right law.

The Feud Worth Forgetting: Part Nine

Joel Richter slammed his car door. Then he slammed the house door.  “Your mother is sleeping.” His fathers voice hissed from the living room loud enough to compete with the blaring TV set.

Joel entered to the same sight that he entered to everyday. His Father, sitting in front of the TV, history channel on and a stack of papers to grade on the coffee table in front of him.

“Sorry.” Joel said taking a seat on the couch.

“So what’s eating you kid?” his dad asked.

“Just this jerk that cut right in front of me off road five. If I hadn’t been slowing down to turn we would have wrecked.”

“But you didn’t. That’s what I’ve been always telling you. You watch out for yourself. As long as you aren’t at fault the other guys insurance will cover it.”

“It was weird. I had the right of way but this truck it was like the driver couldn’t even see me. It was stopped. Stopped like it was going to let me go but then she just pulled out in front of me. Slowly, as if the intersection was empty, in no big hurry.”

“It figures. There are a lot of Crazy Drivers. You’ve got to watch out for them.”

“I know Dad,” Joel said. He stared at the TV and then decided that it would be better to change the subject, “So have you made any progress on your book?”

“No,” his father said placing the paper he had been reading back down on top of the pile. “I gave up. This morning I deleted everything from my computer and I threw away the rest of it.”

Joel looked at his father with a look of horror. “What, Why, How could you do that?”

“Because your mom was right. If the story isn’t true then there’s nothing to find except a pile of historical anecdotes and bizarre coincidences.” His Father paused and took a deep breath, “and if the story is true then it’s not for us to find out about.”

©  This story and subsequent parts are my own original idea and are protected under United States copy right law.

The Feud Worth Forgetting: Part Eight

OK the story is starting to wind down now. No more time jumps and not too many new characters.

*  *  *

Harriett’s hair whipped in the wind as she drove with her window down. She looked over to her twin sister in the passenger seat, “Hey why don’t you put in that CD you bought today?”

“ OK,” Carla said enthusiastically. Her enthusiasm waned as she struggled to free the CD from its cellophane prison. Carla eventually used the knife from the glove box.

As the music began playing through the speakers the girls pulled up to a stop sign. Harriett, sitting high in the ford pick up, looked first left then right and then left again before she pulled forward to cross the intersection. Suddenly there was a screech of tires and a blaring horn coming from the passenger side. There out the window was a Black compact car. “Oh My God! Where did that car come from?” Harriet shouted as she continued to drive through the intersection.

“I can’t believe you would just pull out in front of that car.” Carla said.

“I didn’t see him there. He wasn’t there. No one could have been, I looked twice before I pulled out.”

“I’m driving next time,” Carla crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. The revving of an engine made her turn. “He’s back,” she said.

Both girls watched as the black compact sped past them.

“Did you see him that time?” Carla taunted.

“If you saw him in that intersection, why didn’t you say anything?”

Carla opened her mouth. Then closed it right away. She had no answer.

“I thought so,” Harriet said getting the last word.

The obvious answer that eluded Carla in that moment was that being sisters meant that she too was a descendant of Job Gellervice and of course saw the same nothing that her sister did.

©  This story and subsequent parts are my own original idea and are protected under United States copy right law.

The Feud Worth Forgetting: Part Seven

Juliet Richter had finished reading her husbands new book for the fifth time and still couldn’t believe that she was married to a published author. She thought about the long nights that he had been up writing until the very early morning. The hours of research that he had put into every chapter.

The door opened and in walked her husband, a bookish sort of man who’s build might have given off a more outdoorsy impression if it weren’t for the horn rimed glasses and the tweed jacket that he always insisted on wearing.

“Hello honey, you didn’t have to wait up for me,” he said.

“I wanted to. How was your trip?”

He set down his bag and sat next to her on the sofa. “It was alright for the most part. Though the item that I really wanted to see was missing.”

“Oh, what was that?” She asked off hand knowing that her husband’s own excitement would carry him through his story.

“The Antigone historical archives had a Journal belonging to Job Gellervice on file. But when I went in to view it, they couldn’t find the darn thing.”

At the name Gellervice Juliet perked up.  “Why would you want to look at the Journal of a Gellervice for?”

“Because that’s the topic of my next book. The Invisible Feud: The Forgotten story of the Brettsins and the Gellervices.” He spread his hand through the air as if leaving the title floating there in his wake. “I think that the story your Grandfather used to tell you might have some truths to it. For example chapter 13 of Visions in the Smoke.” He picked his book up off the his wife’s lap and flipped through it. “The names Brettsin and Gellervice turn up everywhere I look and often in the most bizarre of circumstances.

“Did you know that I found the diary of Mavis Walker, a prostitute from 1891. She was in Colorado for the second gold boom and she had two clients. One was a Gellervice and the other was a Brettsin. One day Gellervice walks in while she is servicing Brettsin and jumps in bed like she’s alone or something. Brettsin doesn’t notice a thing not even the extra weight on the bed.”

“How could you read such things. A whore’s diary, really!”

“It’s history, There’s nothing wrong with history. Anyway the last name listed by the archives to look at the Journal, was a Carolina Gellervice, about thirty years ago. I‘m going to try to contact her and see if she took the journal.”

Juliet turned to her husband and looked him in the eyes. “You won’t be able to find her.”

“Oh and why not?”

“Because you married me. Whether I changed my last name or not, you are still married to a Brettsin and that makes you a Brettsin too. So if the story is true you won’t be able to have any contact with a Gellervice.”

 

©  This story and subsequent parts are my own original idea and are protected under United States copy right law.

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