It's Weird Wednesday, and I have no new ghost legends to tall today. I've chosen to give you a ghostly excerpt from my upcoming YA. Watch for details later this year.
“Shelley, go to that small closet on the other side of the wall and
bring down the huge screens. The city will be running pictures of Lincoln and
She opened the side door, flipped on a light, and stepped into a closet.
Wind swirled her giving an instant chill. Wisps of her hair tickled her cheeks.
The sleeves on her paisley shirt molded to her arms. Wind moved rubber edging
back and forth. She searched for the switch to the picture screens and turned
it. The wind roared in her ear. She took one step back and searched for an air
duct. This was crazy. There was no outside wall, no fan or air conditioning
vent. She left the closet, and the wind stopped.
Now, her heart was pounding like she’d jumped to the ground after a fast
gallop on Trophy. She swallowed attempting to rein in her runaway pulse.
Overhead florescent bulbs gave off light enough to highlight anything out of
place except for dark corners. No wind blew in the storage room now.
Curiosity got people in trouble, but never let it be said Shelley played
it safe. She rode her horse like there was no tomorrow and won play-days when
others feared her speed. She inched the door open and moved ahead with her
right foot, bringing her left one beside it. Wind plastered her shirt to her
“Shelley, turn it off. We don’t want that. Turn it off.”
Dad’s voice was calling from the party room. Turn what off? She took a
deep breath and eased away from the closet. Too afraid to stop watching, she
backed out to where Dad and Victoria waited. “Turn what off?”
Dad stood just over her right shoulder. “We don’t want that video going
on. I don’t even know where it came from, but turn it off.”
Shivers raced up and down her spine and exploded at the base of her
neck. She did a half swivel to face him. “I didn’t turn on any video. I just
hit the switch to bring down the screens.”
“It had to have come from you. Why didn’t you answer? I kept calling.”
Dad’s face reddened. His jaw looked tight.
What was he talking about? She marched into the party room to the other
side of the screens and looked for herself.
slid to her side and pointed. “Those words keep flashing, one at the top, then
one at the bottom, then the middle overlaying the others. What does it mean?”
“Save me. Help. Lost. Grain.
Husband. God.” One word after another spread across the screen in some
weird-had-to-be-haunted pattern reminiscent of the screen at the people’s
“Where did you find that? Show me,” Dad demanded and stomped his foot.
“Maybe you hit another button close to the switch for the screens.”
“I’ll show you." Would there still be wind? Goosebumps on her arms broke
out like measles. Tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood out like they’d been
spray-netted. She formed an o with her mouth and blew out air. With Dad at her
elbow, she reopened the closet. “All I did was mash that switch.” She touched
He pushed past her. His brown hair waved in the breeze. He quickly
stepped back hitting his elbows on the side. “What ̶”
“I don’t know,” Shelley said. “It happened to me too.”
The red on Dad’s face drained away like rain into a dry ground leaving
paleness. “I’m pulling up the screens.” He entered and flipped the switch down
again. Before she could count to two, the wind stopped, the screens in the next
room cranked up to the ceiling, and Shelley caught hold of her dad’s arm with a
His face was still colorless. “I don’t know what happened there, but
we’re leaving those screens alone.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Hope I've increased your interest. Watch for the release date of A Ghost for Shelley, due out later in 2015. Post a comment, e-mail me, or shoot me a Facebook post or a tweet if you know of a ghost legend anywhere that you're willing to share.