Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Desperately Seeking Discipline
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
THE CORPSE WHO WALKED IN THE DOOR
Monday, May 12, 2014
I've Been Gone, but I'M BACK!!!!!!!!!!
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| TD Hart (L) and Rehenna Morgan |
Baton Blog Hop
Bob Avey, who writes about a tough police detective with a soft underbelly. He will post next Monday, May 19 on his blog, which is attached to his website.
| http:bobavey.com |
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
The Birthing of NO ESCAPE: The Sweetwater Tragedy
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| Jean Henry Mead |
Thanks Jean, for the background to your new and exciting novel.
And thanks to our readers for dropping by.
Jackie King
Monday, October 22, 2012
GHOSTS FROM MY PAST
By Jackie King
I was about four when my older cousins started scaring me with ghost stories. These were told in the bright sunshine, but at night I had to creep up creaking stairs to get to my bedroom at Grandma’s house. These monsters lurked along the way to terrify me. I can still remember the dread and the sick empty feeling in my belly.
The Good Old Days
Grandchildren weren’t pampered in those days, at least not by my grandma. She married at 14 so I doubt she ever had a childhood, at least not as we think of it these days. I realize now that she wasn’t a cruel woman, just one who had endured hardships, and in her declining years had received me on her doorstep while my mother trained to be a teacher. She did the best she could.
The Million Mile Stairs
There was no electricity to illuminate the steep stairs, so I was given a lighted candle and told to blow it out after I was in bed.
But what waited at the top?
Was it the murdered man looking for his golden arm? Would he chop off my head with his ax when he learned I didn’t have it, as he had with two dozen other children?
And the candle was sputtering.
Terrified of having no light, I’d put one foot in front of the other, knowing that I had no other choice. And finally I’d reach the landing. The soft glow of the candle lighted only a small circle, and each step into the blackness seemed almost certain death.
Finally, I reached my bed, set the candle on an orange-crate used for a bedside table and climbed in. It was summertime and hot, but I still pulled the dusty smelling bedspread over me. After a quick puff to blow out the candle the room was black as a witch’s hat. The counterpane (as Grandma called it) was the only protection between me and the evil ghost. I’d lie stiff as a board until I finally fell asleep.
The next morning when my cousins came to visit, I’d beg them for another ghost story.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
MARILYN MEREDITH'S MYSTERY CHARACTERS
Good luck to everyone who enters Marilyn's contest. And a big thank-you to Marilyn for visiting today.
Cheers,
Jacke
Friday, April 20, 2012
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| F.M. Meredith and Husband Hap at Hanford Bookfest |




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