![]() WELCOME TO CURIOSITIES A monthly feature that spotlights an author and their true, unexplained experience. CURIOSITIES is back! I'm thrilled to have my friend, the lovely LD Rose, here to kick off another year of strange and spooky stories. LD's new book, RELEASING THE DEMONS, is an urban fantasy/paranormal romance. I recently read it and it's a good one. See my review here. LD grew up in a haunted house (I'm jealous) and has a very cool story to share. Take it away, LD... A Haunting in Southeastern Massachusetts by L.D. Rose Hi there! First off, I want to thank Debbie for having me on her blog! I love her Curiosities posts, so I’m honored to be a guest here today. I have a curious tale to share with you all - I grew up in a haunted house as a child. And I thought it was completely normal. My family moved into a little cape in southeastern Massachusetts (in the same city where the infamous Lizzie Borden hacked her parents to death) when I was around five years old. They were quite excited to finally have their own home after immigrating from the Azores, Portugal and apartment hopping since I’d been born. The house wasn’t in the greatest condition, but my dad planned to renovate both the interior and the exterior over the next few years. Too bad he couldn’t get rid of the ghosts! Let me get one thing out in the open first: I’m not super sensitive to the paranormal (certainly not like my sister, who experienced far more in this house than I did). Since my family moved out this house when I was in high school, I’ve literally never experienced another supernatural occurrence. The ghostly presences in this house were so strong even others sensed it. I do think there’s a gradation when it comes to these things, but I’m no expert, so that’s that. It all started with the persistent pacing. I didn’t notice it at first, since my sister and I were kids running around making noise all day, but it was most obvious at night - someone kept walking up and down the stairs. The house was over a hundred years old, and yes it was creaky and constantly settling, but these sounds were just a little too rhythmic. If I was downstairs, I could hear people walking around upstairs when no one was up there. It was constant, back and forth, then it would stop for a period of time. My mom kept pawning it off as an old house, but I wasn’t convinced. Also, the entire upper level of the house was always cold, especially the upstairs bathroom, no matter the time of year. One of my cousins (also only a child at the time) would completely flip out if he was left alone upstairs, screaming about the evil up there. Even though I didn’t think my ghosts were evil, I knew they were real, even if I poked fun at him a little. My sister and I would often hear voices at night. We both shared the same room and there were nights where someone would whisper right along with us. Both of us would shut up immediately, holding our breaths and listening hard. The voices weren’t loud at all, barely audible really, and usually in different languages we couldn’t understand. One night, we heard a baby persistently crying. It terrified my sister so much, she dragged my mom into the room, and yes, even my mother heard it. She checked all the windows, and even though it was the middle of winter, she told us it came from a neighbor’s house down the street. Bullshit! But she looked entirely unsettled before she went back to bed. Our ghostly residents liked to play tricks on us too. Again, this all happened on the upper floor, where the blinds randomly dropped with a terrifying crack. This happened constantly. My mom kept saying it was because the blinds were old, but c’mon, really?! I think not. I used to sit at my computer, listening to a cassette tape on the radio, when suddenly it would shut off. I would hit play again and literally stare at it, waiting. Right before my eyes, the “stop” button was pushed, as if by an invisible hand. I guess my spectral roommates didn’t care for the music! What else? My father (a believer) later told me he once heard a tremendous crash downstairs one night, as if someone had knocked over the hutch filled with glasses and porcelain dishes. Terrified, he went downstairs to investigate, thinking someone had broken into the house. To his relief, he found nothing - everything was in its place and all was silent. He was positive he hadn’t imagined it and it still stumps him until this day. And last but certainly not least, when I was ten we adopted an adorable German Shepard named Legend. She was sweet, playful, and loved to run around the house, like any happy dog. However she often leapt over the front gate (a standard chain-linked fence) and would do so if riled up enough. She lived five glorious years before she one day leapt over that fence, chasing a motorcycle, and ended up struck by a car. I was fifteen at the time and devastated. My dad was even more so, because he loved Legend very much. There were a few days of silence after her death but then we started to hear it. Her running. It would always happen randomly at sundown. We’d be sitting downstairs in the basement, watching TV or playing video games, when a loud gallop would suddenly resonate all around the house from outside. The noise was thunderous in the basement, and it sounded just like Legend running circles around the perimeter, the way she used to when she was alive and well. This went on for weeks. My dad was stunned a little scared, but soon it stopped. Oddly enough, my mom never experienced it. My sister also had an incident with ghostly Legend, where she was folding laundry upstairs (where else?) and heard something four-legged racing at her. When she looked up, something pushed her, like a dog’s front paws and she fell back. Of course, there was nothing there, but she ran to me terrified and in tears. At first, I didn’t believe her - none of us had ever been physically touched by anything ghostly in the house. But her tears quickly convinced me otherwise- why would she lie about something like that anyway? So that’s a quick overview of my haunted house experience (although looking back at this post, maybe not so quick, ha!). My sister later saw a psychic medium who told her a young boy of about eight and an elderly woman were our ghostly residents. The elderly woman died in the upstairs bathroom (of course, where else?) but she wasn’t quite sure about the young boy. The medium believed the pacing and the cold patches were thanks to grandma and the blinds/radio stints were thanks to the little boy. My sister said the medium knew all about it, which is a curiosity in itself, but hell, I could believe that. Why not? After living in this house, anything seems possible! ![]() BOOK BLURB: Blaze Knight has been through hell and back, but the nightmares aren't over yet. Five years after Blaze was maimed by Cyrus Chimola, a powerful vampire with a penchant for torture, he’s still trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered life. As a genetically engineered mercenary with the ability to bend fire to his will and to see in infrared, Blaze’s mission is to protect what’s left of humanity. When Chimola and his crew return to the Bronx gunning for Blaze’s blood, Blaze is forced to face the demons of his past. Hell-bent on revenge, he seeks the help of Valerie Medeiros, an NYPD detective who manages to steal his heart and save his life in more ways than one. Motivated by her sister’s gruesome death, Valerie has made it her life’s goal to bury every vampire in the ground where they belong. When she brings in Blaze Knight for suspected murder, she discovers he’s not only innocent, he isn't a man at all—he's a half-vampire hybrid working with a band of brothers for the U.S. military. Valerie has a hard time trusting anything with fangs, yet she quickly falls headlong into Blaze’s life, a life full of darkness and horror she can’t even begin to fathom. The bodies are stacking up, but Valerie can’t seem to let go of this hybrid, a beautiful monster filled with pain, rage, and passion unlike anything she's ever known. In a world where the line between good and evil is blurred, Blaze and Valerie will find danger at every turn, risking everything they’ve come to know and love, including one another. BUY LINKS: Amazon US: http://amzn.com/B013GVCC7I Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B013GVCC7I BIO:
L.D. Rose is a neurotic physician by day, crazed writer by night, and all around wannabe superhero. She writes paranormal romance and urban fantasy, but she’s been known to delve into horror, sci-fi, and medical suspense on occasion. L.D. Rose is a member of the RWA, FF&P, NEC-RWA and CoLoNY. She currently lives in Rhode Island with her studly hubby, her hyperactive boxer, and her two devious cats. Where to find her: Website: writerldrose.com Facebook: facebook.com/writerldrose Author page: facebook.com/ldroseauthorpage Twitter: twitter.com/ld_rose Goodreads: goodreads.com/ldrose Pinterest: pinterest.com/writerldrose Tumblr: writerdoc.tumblr.com
24 Comments
9/10/2015 06:37:50 am
Wow, scary stuff Linda and great post! It all sounds so enticing while reading this, but I'm sure hearing the crying baby and other noises had a terrifying element for your family in reality.
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Shehanne Moore
9/10/2015 06:42:31 am
Our last house would have made a believer out of anyone, so you are preaching to the converted. Great post my darling x
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Liv
9/10/2015 07:34:40 am
When I was in second grade we lived in an old house in Newport, RI. I remember that one most clearly, because I didn't share a room w/ my sister, and can remember getting absolutely freaked out about a ghost...who turned out to be a white windbreaker jacket hung on my door handle. There is no possible way I would have survived your house, Linda. In fact, it'll probably give me the heebie jeebies tonight!
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Haha, Liv! Maybe the ghost liked wearing the windbreaker? ;) Newport is full of old houses, I'm sure many of them are haunted!
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I lived in a haunted house as a kid, too, only I didn't know it. My parents were way more convincing when they said it was "the house settling." Sure houses creak and groan--when they're haunted!!! I've lived in a lot of other houses than never did any such thing. Old ones, brand new ones. No creaking and groaning. No footsteps in the hallway. Our ghost was Millie, the former resident and, by all accounts, a sweet but tough farm woman. She liked to hide my mom's car keys--maybe because she liked my mother's company. Of course, mom would always tell us she must have put them on top of the refrigerator or on the back of the toilet or other such ridiculous place and forgotten. We believed her until we were adults and she admitted she was freaked out too, but didn't want to scare us.
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Completely agree, Terri! I have to go back and read about Millie again--she sounds like fun. :D Now that I think about it, my parents' keys went missing a lot too...
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Renee
9/10/2015 01:29:57 pm
L.D., So great to visit with you even though you're so far away. My heart was racing just reading your stories. I would've been a wreck living there.
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Debbie Christiana
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