Tag Archives: terror

Is The Excitement Over?

I realize last week the reason I had lackluster blog posts is because I had very little material to write about. 

***Warning, this is a looong post.***

Boy, did I screw up. This weekend had to be the strangest, most painful weekend I’ve had since I passed kidney stones on my 30th birthday. Yeah, that was a stellar weekend, too.

So let’s see where it started. I’ve been bitching complaining about my cell phone for months and was counting down until my upgrade. On Friday, I discovered I was finally eligible! Yay! There was much rejoicing. I went to bed early on Friday night so I could get to the store bright and early. I did my nightly ritual of plugging in my cell to charge, walked around my bed and SLAM! broke my pinky toe on the bench at the foot of my bed. I just barely managed not to scream, but there was a lot of whimpering and “owowowowowowowow” sounds as I put myself in bed. There isn’t much you can do for a broken toe.

Saturday morning, my cell phone obviously knew it was about to take the long walk and refused to do anything but reboot. Constantly. I finally had to turn it completely off. I headed out to the store and hellooooo nurse! Cute sales rep worked with me. Unfortunately, I was flustered and kept getting my words mixed up saying “swap” instead of “swipe” and things like that. I got the phone, by the way, and it’s full of AWESOME! I’ve now discovered the joys of Angry Birds (I’m addicted and haven’t picked up my Kindle since Saturday morning) and Words with Friends. I heart my phone.

Sunday looked to be a great day. Just me and my phone. Because I’d stayed up so late Saturday playing Angry Birds, I took a nap…it was a nice nap, refreshing and relaxing. I opened my eyes with a happy sigh. That felt so—

A scream of absolute terror had me vaulting out of bed like I was a superhero. I swear, y’all, I was still half-asleep running through the house to find out why my mother was screaming like she’d just been stabbed. I see her, frozen in the kitchen, her eyes wide with terror.

Me: What’s wrong?
Mom: S-S-Snake!
Me: *jumping on the nearest high object and looking around* Where???

She points at a spot somewhere in front of here, which is nowhere near me (thank God), and I climb off the sofa to peek. There it was. A snake. About two and a half feet long and skinny. I couldn’t see any markings, but she assured me it was poisonous.

Holy. Crap.

I run back to my room to get my phone, my hands shaking so much I can barely browse through my contacts (forgetting I’d added my brother to favorites) and called him. In the most calm and collected voice I could manage, I told him about the snake.

He showed up wearing steel-toe boots, carrying a hoe and a shovel. This snake was going down! Except…the little beast had crawled under a cabinet and neither tool would fit. He tells me to keep an eye on it (which meant lying on the floor from a very safe distance away) while he goes to get something else. Meanwhile, Mom is still screaming, freaked out, in shock.

He comes back and realizes we don’t have a flashlight. He sends me to his house for one, while he keeps an eye on the snake and Mom, who still hasn’t moved, but is still screaming and babbling. To get her to move away from the area the snake was in, he threatened to throw it at her. (Did I mention my brother is just as phobic about snakes as we are and would probably have a heart attack if he had to touch one with his hands? In other words: Empty threat.) But it got her to move.

In the end, we got the snake out of the house where my brother then proceeded to take all of his fear out on it.

I was then tasked with the job of taking the flashlight and checking under and behind ever item of furniture we have in our house to look for more. Every peek under a cabinet, every close inspection under beds and behind bookcases, I held my breath as I prayed I wouldn’t find another one. I’ll take mice over snakes any day.

As we worked to calm ourselves in the aftermath, I mused that this had been one of the strangest weekends I’d had in a while. Oh it wasn’t all awful, don’t think that. I’m just very glad it’s over…

And that I got an awesome phone out of it…

And that we have a lamp we moved to the kitchen so we could keep an eye out for any other slithering things that might have gotten into the house.

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Filed under humor

Whisper Your Fear

It’s okay, I won’t judge!

Today is the final day of Horror Novel Week. Tomorrow will be exclusively for an author interview with Shelley Munro who has a brand new gothic paranormal romance out called The Spurned Viscountess. Be sure to check it out and comment because one lucky person will win a copy of her book!

Now for today’s Horror Novel…As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not much into horror novels, but the ones I’ve read were guaranteed to leave me with chills or just a sense of being unsettled. Today’s book is one of the few I’ve read that really bothers me.

Whispers by Dean Koontz was released in 1980. Since I was only 4 at the time, it was several years before I read it, but it didn’t take me long to realize this man has a twisted mind. No, I’m sure Koontz is considered more of a suspense novelist, but Whispers is horrifying to me.

Why?

Well, without giving too much of the book away…the villain is mentally disturbed with good reason. Have you ever been scared of something, let’s say…roaches, and no matter how logical you try to be about them, when you see one you freak out? You know what I mean, you can squash them, set your pets on them (my young kitty, Cookie, is a spectacular insect killer), or buy little hotel Californias (cause they can check in any time, but they can never leave!) for them, but you still cringe and whimper when you see one? Well, imagine if you were locked in a basement with millions of them as a “punishment”. Yeah…you’re not going to come out sane, if you know what I mean. Luckily for me, we can’t have basements in south Louisiana (the water, you know), so mom never got to threaten me with the “roach room”. But the villain of this story…well, let’s just say his mom did a number on him and he’s taking it out on the heroine.

Now, back to the roaches. Because…well, I truly can’t stand them. I don’t squeal and run away from them. No, I shudder and look for something to keeeeeel dem with. (It has to be said that way, sorry.) My sister-in-law’s best friend, however, can’t even say the word “roach”. I didn’t believe this and tried to get her to say it, but she couldn’t. She’s so scared of them, she can’t even think about them without freaking out. Now, that’s fear!

I’ve read a whole helluva lot of Koontz’s books because he manages to scare me without bringing in the monster into the story. No, he just reminds me how much people can be monstrous and lets my imagination go from there. By the way, if Mr. Koontz is reading this blog – cause I know he does! – Thanks, Dean, for scaring the hell out of me for so many years.

So what’s your greatest fear? Can you whisper it?

Don’t forget! Tomorrow we’re having Shelley Munro by to talk about her book and writing process. Be sure to comment for your chance to win a copy of The Spurned Viscountess!

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Filed under Book Reviews