Join me and my author friends while they tell you some of their own ghost stories on this Halloween!

Well, on this Halloween you will find a few ghost stories told by some of my author friends and new friends. You see, as usual I had this idea to do one group blog post. I contacted my friends asking them if they had any ghostly experiences and if I could share them here with all of you. I gave them very short notice and to my wonderful surprise they didn't let me down. Within hours, I had wonderful emails with such tales of hauntings...So, to my dear ones I thank you very, very much for once again not letting me down. Also, I will share each friend's story followed by a link to their website for more information about them.

I will start with my own experience. It's only fair now isn't it.  Well, last July, I visited Lincolnshire, England staying with  my friend Debbie Jenner.  I was there for four days and the first two days went on beautifully no strange noises, no weird sounds nothing. The third night, I went to bed as usual in the upstairs bedroom right next to Debbie and her gorgeous cocker spaniel Molly.  You know that feeling when you are in a deep sleep and you feel something softly touching your chest area between your neck and collarbone? Well, in my sleep I felt soft touches around that area, not rough at all. Just enough touches to bring me out of a deep sleep. I was alone in bed in that room. I opened my eyes, the digital clock said, 1:30 a.m. I sat up and looked to my right against the wall next to my bed stood an older aged woman dressed in a top and pants looked as from this era not another century at all. She was not exactly solid but not thin or smoky in form either. She was solid enough I could make out her features. Her mouth was moving quickly but I could not hear a voice, at the same time her hand extended pointing a finger at me in a "go away" motion!  She was not happy I was in that room. I was half asleep and not feeling threatened or as if she would hurt me but scared enough my first reaction was to put out both my hands in front me palms up toward her while saying loudly, "no no no!"  Immediately after that she literally disappeared before my eyes. I thought for sure Debbie would have heard me or Molly would start barking but nothing. I went back to sleep and when I woke up later I went downstairs said good morning to Debbie and said, "Do you know you have a ghost?"  I stayed one last night as I was leaving that next morning to drive to the Isle of Wight.  I can happily report nothing else happened. I did say before bed something to the effect, "I mean no harm and I only mean to come with love as it is so beautiful here."  I slept well, woke as usual and got ready for my teary goodbyes. I would stay with Debbie again, if she would ever have me back!

From Debbie Jenner, 

My one encounter with a ghost is when I was doing panto. This is about 35 years ago if not longer. It was in the Arts Theatre,Cambridge. 

It was a bad winters evening and many of the audience couldn't make it into the city. We were doing a performance, I was onstage and I looked into the auditorium and saw in a large gap where a coach load of people should have been sitting, but was empty, a figure in a 3-cornered hat and large overcoat. He didn't look all quite there, was quite pale looking, but because the auditorium is dark and when you're onstage you can't see them very well, I didn't think much of it. 

Anyway I went offstage and told one of the stagehands who said that I'd see whoever it was - I forget now, but apparently the theatre was reputedly haunted and others had seen him too in previous productions. 

Debbie Jenner is a singer, dancer, choreographer, who promotes awareness of the early life of Alfred Tennyson in Lincolnshire, England, the heart of Tennyson country. She works tirelessly with such places as his birthplace, Somersby Rectory giving walking tours of the famous Wolds and so much more. 
To learn a bit more visit her website, Tennysons Birthplace

 

From Mrs. Middleton herself, take it away, Gail,

Ok, well it was a story that was told to me in the Bookshop about a month ago...

A customer came in with her sister who lives on the East of the Island. The lady bought a book about Fairies, and was chatting about when she used to live in Freshwater in the seventies. 

We got talking about Dimbola because of the JMC£20 Note Campaign, and she said "Well, I could tell you things about Dimbola" (funnily enough I have heard that phrase before!) 

I asked her what she meant- and we were off...

Apparently back in the 1970's, prior to any talk about saving the building, when half of the house was set for demolition, this lady-whom I shall call Wendy and another- who was a Healer, were in the vicinity between Dimbola and the Farringford, doing some healing.

Suddenly, the healing lady's hands appeared to be stained yellow, and she spoke in a voice that was not her own. She said that she was Julia Cameron, and that she lived at Dimbola. Neither women knew who she was,and the session broke up.

Sometime later, Wendy was in Newport and passed a Bookshop called Micawbers. In the window was a book about Julia Margaret Cameron. Realising that this was the woman who had come through at the healing session,she bought the book, and took it to her friend. They decided on another visit to Freshwater Bay.

 

 As they walked up from the Bay, they could see a woman standing in the doorway at Dimbola. I asked her how she was dressed, and she described her as wearing a shawl over a long dress. The woman spoke to them as they got near. She said that this was her house, and that half of it was being pulled down- and she didn't want that to happen. She told them where she had played her piano, and that a green vase had fallen and smashed, and that there were pieces under the floorboards.

 

 Apparently- this was true- sometime later, pieces of the vase were found.

At the end of the story- we joked about the spirit of Julia Margaret Cameron, saying that she must be at it again, calling for troops to do her bidding and help her become the face on the new £20 note!

Gail Middleton lives on the Isle of Wight and owns a bookshop called, 'Mrs. Middleton Shop.' She also is the author of, 'The Freshwater Circle and what Lewis Carroll found there.' I am one of the very lucky people who have visited Gail in her bookshop and sat and talked about Julia Margaret Cameron over a few cups of tea. I recommend buying her tshirts!

So, if you would like to find out more about Gail and her beautiful shop, she sells more goodies on her website,  mrsmiddletonsshop

Author, Kevin Marsh shares his ghost story, 

When on holiday a few years ago on the Isle of Wight, Maria and I stayed in a lovely family owned mansion house. It was not at all a dismal haunted kind of place so I didn’t expect to experience anything spooky.

Just after 2am one morning I was suddenly woken by a rustling sound. I was convinced that someone had just rushed past my bed. It was dark in the room so I couldn’t see anything but the illuminated face of the clock on the bedside table. The air was perfumed with a sweet floral scent that was not at all unpleasant, so I turned on the light and went across the room to the huge windows that opened up onto the garden. I thought that the lovely smell must be coming from the plants growing just outside the window, so throwing them open I leaned out to discover that the smell was definitely not coming from the garden. Turning back into the room, the scent had almost faded, the air was warm and I was left with a calming feeling.

It was not at all a frightening experience but it was strange. I am certain it was not a vivid dream or my over active imagination. I have never experienced anything like this before or since.

I just adore Kevin's novels, Belgae Torc, The Gordian Knot, and The Witness. To find out more about him and his novels, take a look at his website where you will also find a link to his blog that he runs separately,  Kevin Marsh Novels 

 

Here is author, Jeanne Treat's story, 'Visions at the Dale' by Jeanne Treat

We experience visions at Lilydale Assembly

It was the summer of 2004, an unusually hot and dry season in Western New York. I had been working hard on a project at work and it was time for a retreat at one of my favorite places, Lily Dale Assembly, a Spiritualist community situated on the banks of Lake Cassadaiga that was known for its psychic readers and happenings.
My friend Heather and her husband Mike joined me. He had recently lost his father to cancer and was hoping to contact him. We rented rooms in one of the quaint private guest homes and found ourselves among a group of spiritual insight training students led by a trained medium and Spiritualist minister named Candy.
The grounds of Lily Dale were breathtaking. There was lush vegetation, an old growth forest, the beauty of the lake, and charming 1940’s style houses and cottages. Readings were available at the Forest Temple and Inspiration Stump, as well as a service in the Healing Temple. As we walked the grounds and took supper in the outdoor pagoda, we felt the energy of the place and wondered where this day would take us.
Night fell and we returned to our lodging. As the evening wore on, we talked with Candy’s students Felicia and Lester and established a rapport. Soon, midnight was approaching and we were invited to join them for a trip to Leolyn Woods to visit Inspiration Stump in the dark.
What was the significance of the Stump, we wondered? Candy explained that it was the site of some of the most profound spiritual energy in all of Lily Dale. It was not unusual for visitors to the Stump to experience a strong sense of heightened awareness, profound peace, and receive messages from the beyond. Were we interested? Of course!
Armed with a few flashlights, we headed towards Leolyn Woods. There were six of us; Candy, Felicia, Lester, Heather, Mike, and myself. We entered the forest with a sense of excitement, passed a spooky old pet cemetery, and found the Stump in a grove surrounded by magnificent old trees.
Candy explained that in this place, mediums had been passing messages from Spirit to others since 1898. The Stump at one time had been a tree around which children had gathered and levitated.
She led the group in some energy work and encouraged us to stand on the stump. One by one, we felt the pull towards the middle and the feeling of being in some kind of vortex.
Heather came down from the Stump and claimed that she felt a persistent tugging on her right sleeve, like someone was trying to get her attention. She was pretty freaked out by it, especially when she started to experience shifting in her peripheral vision on the left side.
Lester snapped Polaroid pictures off and on using a flash, even though it was dark.
Heather panicked and begged us to return to the guest house. On the way back, she was ice cold, even though it was a hot night. The number nine kept coming at her, and she told everyone so. Leaving Leolyn Woods, the shifting in her vision reoccurred and she turned to see a dark-haired boy who she thought to be nine, bare-chested and barefooted, wearing old fashioned dark brown and green checkered shorts, rather worn.
She felt a dull aching pain in his left temple, and realized that he had a hurting wound there. Instinctively she knew that he woke up on the shore with that wound, only to see a canoe flopping in the water.
As we neared the guest house, she had a vision of him sitting in a canoe watching the back of another boy’s head in front of him. He looked over his shoulder at the shoreline. At that point, she said that it was ‘like his eyes were her eyes’. He scanned the shore and saw an old house with a shed attached and a three wheel tricycle, rather old fashioned looking. She experienced his panic as he heard choking behind him. The canoe was wooden, dark reddish-brown, and small, for two people only.
We went into the guest house and tried to get her to settle down. She turned and screamed, saying that she saw the child at the top of the stairs. He was speaking to her but his lips were not moving. Only his expressions were changing. He was repeating that the year is 48, and saying Ryan, Ryan, Ryan with a deep sadness. She couldn’t tell if it was a last or first name or the name of the victim or friend.
The last part of it came as a vision of a boy floating face down in the water, his red shirt like a bubble on top of the water. Her impression was that the boy was telling her that his friend drowned and relayed sadness and remorse. He was sorry for his part in it. Then he left her alone.
Some interesting facts…
Heather is not a trained medium or student, just a visitor to Lilydale who tagged along with this group. She did not invite this communication and wishes that it never happened. She says that John Edward can keep his job.
Other people who went with her that night got impressions of the color red, deep sadness, and saw a point of light on her right sleeve at the Stump when she said that her sleeve was being tugged. The camera also captured this. They recorded her experience on paper as she was relaying it.
We visited the museum the next morning and described her vision to the curators. We learned that over the years there had been many drownings on that lake, although this specific one wasn’t recorded.
Years later, we still wonder what it was all about. Why would that spirit want to contact us and relay that heart wrenching confession? Could it be that a man who recently died needed to return to the scene and tell the real story? We checked with local newspapers and historical societies, but we never found an answer.
The spirit appears to be at rest. 

Jeanne Treat is author of one of my very favorite trilogies, The Dark Birthright Saga. If you enjoy 17th Century Scotland well now you are in for such a treat. I hope you will learn more about her books, Dark Birthright Saga

 

Finally, I leave you with a ghostly experience written by Ben Perkins,

When I was child I lived in a very dark Edwardian house, not helped by the fact that my parents in their wisdom put really thick curtains in my room so that night time was pitch black in there. It should come as no surprise then that I developed a fear of the dark, when you can’t see what is around you at all, then your imagination takes over. For me monsters were not only real but ready to jump out at me if I got out of bed at night. I had to sleep with my head under the sheets for years because it was the only way I felt safe. But if things got too much I could always depend on my parents to let me sleep with them in their room. One night when I was five, things did get too much and I went up into the attic where my parent’s room was. But before I went to sleep I had a look around the room and I saw a silvery man shape underneath the window and I buried my head in the sheets so that it would go away. That was the only night I saw something, even though my brother claims he saw a green man walking around our shared room a few years later, but that house was strange, I had more than one thing drop off a shelf for no reason and the Cat would stare at things that were not visible to us humans. I’m glad I don’t live there anymore. 

Ben is a Victorian Literature and Arts Geek. He loves Tennyson and I highly recommend checking out his blog and catching up with him on social media as well,  The Talking Oak

WELL THAT IS IT FOR THIS HALLOWEEN. THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN TO ALL MY FRIENDS FOR TAKING TIME TO SEND ME YOUR STORIES AND CONTRIBUTING TO THIS GROUP POST. I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL TO KNOW EACH OF YOU. I HAVE LEARNED SO MUCH MORE ABOUT MYSELF AND AM A BETTER PERSON FOR HAVING YOU ALL, EVERY SINGLE SOLITARY PERSON READING THIS IN MY LIFE.