The Wraith of Carter’s Mill
Genre: Paranormal Fiction
Sensitives is the first novella in the series titled; The Wraith of Carter's Mill. The series will include three novellas published in Kindle format. A paperback compilation will include a fourth story, which will only be available in the paperback edition, and will be available late 2014.
Libby Martin has built a good life far away from her childhood home and its dark memories. After two decades, a death draws her back where an insidious spirit still waits for her. Libby is plunged into a whirlwind of long buried family secrets. As her daughter’s supernatural abilities become known to her, she discovers her own. Libby must learn to overcome her own fear if she is to protect her family from the dark figure who has haunted them for generations.
Available at Amazon
Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/vSOU_sYlq-I
Guest Blog: Let's welcome the lovely C. Evenfall for a post that I'm actually really excited for you to read!
An Author’s Encounter with The Paranormal
It happened when I was six. I remember that only because I was in the first grade, it was wintertime and my birthday was not until June. There was an empty, rented field next to our tiny house that separated us from a stretch of woods. We lived in a very rural community and only had a few neighbors.
It was dark outside but not terribly late. My father, five-year-old sister and I had just gotten home from somewhere. It was very cold outside, so after my Dad parked the car, he went to the woodpile to bring in firewood. While my sister and I huddled on the doorstep waiting for him to unlock the back door, a voice called my name. It sounded as if it was coming from the edge of the woods on the other side of the field.
It called my name in a singsong fashion, which is the only way I know how to describe it. I could not tell whether the voice was male or female. My sister heard it as well and I remember her asking, “Who is that?”
I was so young and had no fear of the dark, the field or the woods for that matter, so I remember feeling only curiosity about the source of the voice. What frightened me was my Dad’s reaction. The first time it called my name, my Dad stopped stacking wood on his arm and looked into the darkness. He stared in the direction of the voice as it repeated my name over and over.
Finally, my Dad called back, “What do you want with Carolyn?” His voice sounded strange to me, I had never heard my father sound that way and I remember feeling fear. In response to my father’s query, the voice repeated my name in the same singsong manner more quickly and it sounded as if it had come closer to the house.
Suddenly my father dropped the firewood and bolted toward us girls. He unlocked our back door, in one swift movement, snatched me, then my sister up, and practically tossed us inside the house. He shut the door quickly and ordered us into the living room as he peered out the tiny window in the door.
By then I was crying, and so was my sister. My dad finally came into our family room and I remember how pale he was. His eyes watered and his voice trembled. He turned on the television and pulled us both into his lap, telling us not to be afraid, everything was alright. I remember asking him, “Daddy, who was calling me?” and he answered, “Hush now, don’t talk about it right now, it’s alright.”
Later, after my mother came home from the Tupperware party she had attended that night, I heard my Dad telling her about the incident.
Months passed and finally springtime arrived. It was time to plant our garden, and that was always a family project. We all had jobs to do. We were finishing up one evening, the sun was falling and dusk was setting in. My mother was raking dirt into a mound for planting squash; my father was watering young collard plants with a mason jar. My sister’s work and mine was finished and we were swinging on our swing set, waiting for our parents to finish for the day.
As suddenly as it had occurred the first time, the same singsong voice called my name from the edge of the woods. I stopped swinging, my Mom stilled her rake and my Dad dropped the jar back into the bucket. We all faced the direction of the voice. I
saw my parents make brief eye contact. My Dad was pale, my mother’s mouth hung open in disbelief and I started to cry.
The same incident occurred numerous times throughout my childhood and into my early adulthood. I heard it more often when I was alone but there were at least ten occurrences that were witnessed by others. It did not stop until I moved away from our family home. We never learned the source of the voice, or learned why it called my name. For years, it was hard for us to talk about as a family.
I think I always knew it was paranormal and I became so accustomed to it that my fear turned to extreme curiosity at a young age. I found myself wondering about it and I would ask my parents, “Why do you think it calls me?”
Because of my own experience and the stories shared with me by others who have witnessed the paranormal first-hand, I decided to write paranormal fiction. Bits and pieces of the true experiences of people I trust came together to form The Wraith of Carter’s Mill series.
I sometimes drive by the old house. The field is gone; someone has built a house there and the same with that old stretch of woods. I still stop sometimes, roll down my window and wait, hoping it will call me again and give me some clue as to what or who it is and why. I hope I find the answer some day.
About the Author:
C. Evenfall grew up in a small fishing village in Eastern North Carolina. The area was rich with history, ghost stories and unexplained phenomenon; all fodder for the vivid imaginings of a young girl. She began “collecting” stories at a young age.
At aged six, C. Evenfall experienced the paranormal firsthand and has been seeking answers ever since.
Her fascination with the unexplainable and her love for old family ghost stories inspired her to write a collection of novellas. Each inspired by the experiences passed down through her family for generations.
C. Evenfall resides on the Carolina Coast with her husband, a self-proclaimed skeptic. She loves him anyway and the two complement each other perfectly.
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5 Kindle Gift copies of Sensitives
Thanks so much for joining me today and thanks to C. Evenfall for writing and joining for a guest blog!