Dreamwatch

True Paranormal. Mystery Fiction.

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“Thank you, Meryl Streep. You made me a better writer.”

See my guest post at I Smell Sheep, an award-winning blog Entertaining Ewe One Monster at a Time.

I’m thrilled to be joining the flock and guest posting at I Smell Sheep, an award-winning blog for those who love stories—books, movies, comics, and much more—especially if it’s a little weird, a bit strange, and mysterious.

Meryl Streep to the rescue. Not once, but twice.

I Smell Sheep blog post: Thank You, Meryl Streep.

How Meryl Streep made me a better writer. Guest post at I Smell Sheep.

Read how one of America’s favorite actor-storytellers influenced me and my writing, and helped me learn the language of 1899.

#indieauthors #authors #writers #amwriting #writingtips #selfpublishing #writerslife

Premonitions of danger and death.

Dreams, dread, and weird police call.

When I was 12 years old, I was invited to go live with my Aunt in Alaska. I was completely ready to go to escape an abusive childhood. My Aunt had made all the arrangements and I was to finish my first semester of school and then move to Alaska.

Premonition of Danger

“I just had this horrible feeling…”

Well right after winter break, I started crying about going and decided I didn’t want to go. I just had this horrible feeling wash over me and I decided to stay even though I was not in a good place for a child.

Shortly after I made that decision, my mother received news that my Aunt had been killed in a house fire. I would have been there with her around that time, had I of chosen to go.

A weird call from the police…

What was really weird was, right after that my mother received a weird call from the police telling her my dad had passed away. I remember it being too much for my mother and her crying. My dad had not been passed and my mother couldn’t figure out which police department had called her from where my dad lived.

My dad said he was scared.

I once also had a visit from my dad in my dreams, in one of my dreams my dad said he was scared. I went to work after I woke up and at the top of the escalators was my supervisor and one other supervisor waiting and I knew right then they had something to tell me and said it’s my dad isn’t it?

They said your mom called (I didn’t have a phone at that time), and said your dad was just diagnosed with cancer, and that I should call him.

Premonition of Death

“I had a feeling of dread…”

I called my dad and he cried to me on the phone like he had in my dream, saying he was scared and he asked me to not let the doctors take his voice away. Well my dad lost his voice, but he survived the cancer and I got a few more years with him.

One day though in June of 1998, I had this feeling that I didn’t want to go home because the phone was at home and I had a feeling of dread about answering it. So, I had my late boyfriend take me shopping or anywhere that wasn’t home until everything was closed and I had no choice but to go home.

I went home and my daughter says grandma called and that was all she said. My first question was “was she crying?” My daughter said yes, and I called my mom to learn my dad had passed away.

— Destiny, Oregon

Pet ghost dog named Gunnar.

Pet ghost dog named Gunnar, gone, but not…

“The hardest thing I had to do.”

I had a dog named Gunnar that I adopted in 2000 when he was 5 weeks old. In February 2015, Gunnar let me know it was time to let him go, he was old, could barely walk, and had decided to stop eating. It was definitely the hardest thing I had to do.

“I feel something leaning against me…”

Now though, every now and then, I swear I feel something brushing or leaning against me and blow it off as one of my daughter’s cats, but when I feel the leaning, I look down and I don’t see anyone.

A large herding breed dog, Gunnar used to lean on me when he thought it was time for me to go to bed, when he wanted attention, or when he was scared. I hope he isn’t scared where ever dogs go, after they pass. I hope Gunnar is just here with me, helping me get through tough times as he always had.

— Destiny, Oregon

Thriller subplot. Downed bug or insect spy drone?

Unexpected fly-in idea for my next thriller.

There I was, minding my own business, when my sister and brother-in-law (secondary characters) pulled into the driveway to drop off a book (what else?). When I glanced down, something odd caught my eye. I bent to look closer. Couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A bug. Big. About three inches. Unlike any I’d ever seen. It made me think of a military transport plane.

My appreciation for visually compelling flora and fauna comes straight from my dad. Once when he was mowing the lawn, he spotted the most beautiful little snake that had ever crossed his path, that would be sixty years of snake sightings. Unfortunately, he couldn’t react fast enough to stop the machine from running over the slithering beauty, a moment that haunted him with sorrow and regret for the rest of his days. Twenty years passed and he never forgot that beautiful little guy.

Visual acuity serving the public for generations.

My entire family and I have a gift for keen visual observation. My sister used her talent to analyze crime statistics and connect criminal dots for a local police department. My brother’s skill served America in the U.S. Navy searching for Soviet subs during the Cold War. My daughter gained a reputation in fingerprint recognition for state police in their crime scene investigation unit, and my grandson aced his first Where’s Waldo? book.

I write fiction and compulsively edit and proofread, easily spotting that extra word space, unassigned font, or unintentional italicized word—not so much for public benefit, but hey, I’m the black-sheep-outlier, which by-the-way makes my novels intriguing with unexpected twists. My family sticks to facts. I prefer stretching facts, embellishing facts and making them more interesting. I don’t mind if imagination overrides.

So I’m looking at this bug and am relieved that it clings to life, though not moving fast. I run in for my camera. Now, my sister wants to get on her way and is getting more annoyed. She takes a quick look to humor me and drives away.

I dash inside, stash the book, and grab a camera with a telephoto lens. Tiptoeing closer, I see the bug hasn’t moved, much.

Camouflage bug? Moth? Insect spy drone?Moth? Camouflage bug? Insect spy drone?

Hours pass and I’m still thinking about this bug. (My dad would be proud.) Is it stuck on its back? Should I flip it over? Place it on the grass? In the shade? Feed it a leaf? Take it to the vet? Will birds devour the poor, helpless thing?

  • I fantasize a noted entomologist will see this rare new species and name it after me.
  • Or a military intelligence service will send a unit to retrieve their experimental spy drone, obviously the victim of a bird collision.
  • Or I’m spending far too much time on this because Camo Moth is not so rare after all.

After a bit of Google searching, I learned the facts (my sister would be proud) about this UFInsect thanks to BugGuide.net. It might be a Sphinx Moth: Eumorpha Pandorus or Pandora Sphinx. I like those names—Pandora and Sphinx—they conjure ancient, exotic, and mysterious images and ideas.

Woe is me. I take my licks and reluctantly concede that Jacob Hübner, noted German entomologist beat me to it when around 1806 he identified this creature as Daphnis pandorus (so says Wikipedia).

A new dilemma. Pandora Sphinx or Spy Drone?

Now I’m torn, so I might use both in future novels. An Insect Spy Drone would fit nicely in my Premonition soon-to-be-series* of psychic thrillers featuring a reluctant psychic, her skeptical FBI brother, and his new boss, a legendary counterterrrorism agent.

But the Pandora Sphinx could work in a new contemporary mystery in which ancient writings are the only clue. Hmmm… I’m leaning toward writing both.

*Premonition of Terror began as a stand-alone thriller, but by the time I wrote the end, it begged for a sequel. And why not a prequel. It’s likely headed toward a Premonition trilogy.

Finding my way

Writing a first blog post can be intimidating. I’ll begin with gratitude to you—readers, writers, visitors, curiosity seekers, lost in virtuality after clicking the wrong Google link. Perhaps fate brought you here. Welcome!

This new site’s been live for a month and I’m still putting meat on the bones. (By the end of this post you’ll know why food is on my mind.) I’ve been finding my way around WordPress, themes, plugins, and widgets. My typical day is uneventful, often more geeky than I ever imagined. A month ago I didn’t know what a widget was, but I’m finding my way. Tonight I installed a link-checker plugin and I’ll soon add an email signup.

Today was average, nothing to write home about, yet here I am. 

  • I began the day watering my four plants when I wondered which of us was older, probably me, but the Christmas cactus was a close second. Hey, wait a minute. The antique lamp is definitely older, but the rocks and fossils take the prize for being millions of years old. Phew! I feel younger already!
  • I had one brilliant idea that will manifest in mid-August, and that led me to thinking about the banner on my YouTube channel.

I assessed my pantry supplies.

No milk. No eggs. No orange juice. No Arizona Green Tea. No food. Only frozen hot dogs and stale bread. I should have gone to the market, but nooo … I re-sized my YouTube banner, packed and shipped Asylum to a book blogger, decisions I will regret in the morning when my stomach aches for food. Fortunately, one English muffin remains edible and there’s plenty of coffee, so I’ll be okay. I’ll try to get to the market early morning, before the heat gets me. I’d better start on my list. Over and out.

Dream of an alternate life.

“I dream of just living an alternate life…”

I dream of just living an alternate life altogether in which I go through phases, like at the moment, I’m in college. The world is different, more beautiful, it is always sunny and the atmosphere is just beyond explanation. I can breathe better in these dreams. I can smell happiness and feel joy. I can go anywhere in these dreams and not feel the least bit fearful. It is also where I see a lot of my deceased relatives as well the settings that never change. I could explain what I’ve seen and the places that I’ve been in this reality in fine detail, but that’s not what I’m discussing in this story.

“The world is different, more beautiful. I can breathe better in these dreams. I can smell happiness and feel joy and not feel the least bit fearful — but that’s not what I’m discussing in this story…”

There’s a particular dream I’ve had a few times, once when I was about 8-10 years of age and one I’ve had sometime afterwards, into my teens, that stands out to me greatly and that I just cannot explain.

(This story is long, and a bit hard to follow. We at Dreamwatch, have done some extensive editing and still can’t guess its meaning, but we felt it was of enough interest to post. Maybe it will make sense to someone.) 

Chased. Stalked. Shot.

I started having these dreams of being chased by unrecognizable human beings, being stalked, as well as shot. These dreams have followed me into my adult years, I am now 20 years old. A few months ago I was sucked into this reality yet again, but different. This one stands out the most because of its well thought out scenario, one in which I couldn’t have thought of in a million years and it’s a pretty creepy one, here’s the story:

It starts at a party, a birthday party for a baby cousin.

There were a lot of kids and a fair amount of adults so of course there was a lot of noise. In a chair next to a dryer diagonal from the bathroom sits me, my body facing four children who sat lined up against the wall. My attention turned towards my eldest cousins aged 19 and 17 who were laughing and having a conversation.

Out of the blue one little girl blurts a curse word. I quickly turned my attention to the little girl, “Watch your mouth.” The girl continues to curse not only that, but throw insults as well. Not long after, it’s a sibling showdown, back and forth we go.

In the midst of it all, I see one of my aunts speaking discreetly to a mysterious woman. Immediately, I respond, “Is something wrong?” as if I already knew something very suspect was going on or on the verge of going down.

I then turn my attention back to my eldest cousins, while at the same time watching my aunt walk into the other room with this mystery lady. I remember distinctly the same little girl blurt another curse word. I once again turn my attention to her and all of a sudden from the corner of my eye to the left, a bald black man in a suit who seems to be in his mid- to late-40s walks through my aunt’s front door and calls me out like a school sentry picking up the class clown.

I turn my attention to the little girl smiling at me as well as my aunt and the mystery lady, but for some odd reason I respectfully went with, who at the time I expected to be an officer of some sort, confident that I would be set free due to it all being a big dumb misunderstanding. But I was wrong.

Leaving the house, instead of a cop car, I was making my way to a black SUV, in which I noticed a young boy passenger about the same age as me. I have never seen these people in my freaking life!!! but I remained content as I sat in the backseat of this van and we pull off.

“The strangest thing began to happen and thinking back on it now it scares me.”

The officer and this younger boy begins singing a song that I have never heard, out of the blue, just starts harmonizing and singing like they were auditioning for the X-Factor or something. It was then when I suspected that the two were father and son so I asked them what song they were singing and the investigator tells me the name (again I’ve never heard of the song ever so I can’t remember the name) so I say “He must’ve sung that song to you a lot when you were younger” and suddenly the both of them turn to each other, grinning at one another, and if I remember correctly the younger one says in sort of a mumbled tone, “If only he knew.”

Eventually we show up to what looks like a huge fenced in lot with a garage. We’re backing into this lot and immediately I start getting anxious and we have to change vehicles seconds later. I find myself hands tied in a damn golf cart driving up to this garage at this point I’m planning my escape, yet at the same time I can’t help but be interested in what awaited behind this garage door.

Slowly the garage door opens…

Slowly the garage door opens and opens and opens and as expected … nothing, just an empty dirty garage with a single brick shaped window at the top of the back wall. It wasn’t long before I had hopped out that cart and was hauling across a busy street hopping and crossing every car, I could feel this person chasing me like I knew he was right behind me.

Now that I think about it, he was so close to me all it really took was for him to reach out his hand and grab me and from all of the crazy a traffic I shoulda’ been hit and on the ground but I think due to my determination to not get caught this time like before … yes, before (it was a quick lil’ chase in which I got caught and blacked out when I hit traffic). I was strongly determined to not get caught this time. I felt like I was running in this dream literally for a whole hour until I finally reached my grandmother’s house and running into the kitchen to grab a knife.

If I did get caught like in the older dream starring my younger self, I would be killing another version of myself…

As soon as I turned around the officer was in the kitchen and in front of me with his hands held out towards me signaling that I lower the knife and I refused. I was not gonna get caught, I couldn’t get caught, it was like in my conscious mind a very small part of it kinda knew I was in a dream or an alternate reality and that if I did get caught like in the older dream starring my younger self, I would be killing another version of myself (sad I know) so I stabbed him and as soon as that happened I heard the front door open and I just knew so I bolted to the back door.

Now in this dream like all of my dreams, my grandmother’s house is the most accurately detailed because I’ve spent so much time there. I was practically raised there so like my grandmother’s house the back porch is gone and there is a dumpster in the way. So hopping out of the back door behind this dumpster I crouch, peaking from the right as another black van and the familiar face of a Hispanic man, whom I do strongly believe was the capture of my younger self, walk up to the house.

As he approaches the younger kid, the son of the officer runs out of the house searching for me. After a few quick seconds of confusion he spots me and starts yelling and kickin’ and cursing me while being held by the Hispanic guy because of what I did to his father, suddenly the Hispanic guy tightly grabs a hold of him to calm him down and throws his arms around the son of the officer. I then heard him say in a calm and assuring tone, “Next time we’ll get him, next time.”

All I can do now is wonder whoever reads this and can share a similar story. I seen a post on here that mentioned having these same dreams which is exciting because it may better explain our superstitions and serve as proof of such things.

— Sha’vey, New York

Premonition dreams of the dead.

Premonition dreams of the dead.

I personally remember having certain dreams that I’ve had since I was literally a baby. One distinct one being my soul leaving my body and watching myself float over my own crib and mother.

Having a reoccurring dream of a house that I remember distinct details to this day though I haven’t dreamed of recently.

I also have had dreams of the dead that would occur the same day, or the preceding the day of their death whereas I would satisfyingly see them at peace, laughing and smiling and content in beautiful alternate realities.

“It’s bringing me to tears just typing about it now.”

— Sha’vey, New York

Note:  Sha’vey wrote a lengthy and much more detailed account of life in an alternate reality, or parallel world. Because it reads like another life, it’s filed in the Fate & Reincarnation Category.

Girl ghost. Strange scratches.

A young girl ghost.

A few years ago, possibly six or seven, I was hearing footsteps on the rooftop. First I thought it was the sound of squirrels or rats or raccoons climbing on the roof, but I realized it sounded more like the footsteps of a small person or a child and this would happen late at night usually after midnight and that would happen at all times of the year even in the dead of winter when it’s 30 below zero outside.

I thought it could be the neighbors so I asked them if they had been on the rooftop walking around for some reason, of course they said no. I had no way to explain what was happening but it would happen on a regular basis. I was the only one to hear them, but I know for sure that it wasn’t a dream because I’ll be awake every time I heard it.

Then one afternoon at about 3 PM I was lying in bed with my eyes closed but I was awake and suddenly I hear the front door open.

I hear the door latch open.

I hear the clicks of lock and the creak of the door as it opens and closes. And then heard footsteps the creaking of the wood floors down the hallway. I figured it was my mother coming home so I didn’t think anything of it. Suddenly my door opens in my bedroom and I see this image of a young girl very clearly but yet I could see through her. She had long dark curly hair, was about seven years old, she was wearing a red dress.

I pinch myself to make sure I was awake and yes I was awake for about three seconds I saw the image. I close my eyes, open them again for a second, reopen them, and the image was gone.

It didn’t scare me or freak me out I was more puzzled and I questioned if I was really awake or was I dreaming, but I thought why would I be dreaming about this? Why would I be seeing this? It didn’t make sense. I was sure. I have no explanation for what happened.

Strange scratches.

If years later in a different apartment I had another strange experience.  One night I felt this burning sensation on my leg, it was morning time maybe around 6 AM and I was just waking up.

I didn’t know what it was so I checked my leg and on my leg were scratches, very strange scratches, they are on the inside on my right leg, my ankle. There was a shape of an eye and ask (?) next to it and two lines underneath almost like Roman numerals. I thought, how can I scratch myself in that strange pattern while I’m sleeping? There was no way it happened during the day since I was wearing jeans and boots so even if I had walked through the shrubs or found a way to scratch myself accidentally, there’s no way it would penetrate through my jeans and my leather boots that went up above my ankles. So again this time it was more disturbing, but I did not freak out. I was more curious as to how this could happen and kept thinking how on earth was that’s possible?

Now recently and in my new apartment I’ve been hearing different noises like the sound of the piano playing except it’s just to know it’s playing off key and it happens all times of the day every day. It’s so strange. No one else hears them upstairs or downstairs just in our apartment. At least my mother hears it, but there’s no logical explanation. It actually sounds like a live piano not a recording. It’s not an alarm. It just doesn’t make sense. Why in earth would it be the same to know it’s played off key constantly? It’s very puzzling and it’s not Friday and just more perplexing.

Anyone else have any experiences like that please let me know.

— Franz, USA

Phantom smells, lights, talking and toys.

Phantom smells, lights, talking and toys.

I often feel that I am “sensitive” because I feel and have seen various things throughout my life that compel me to believe so. I see shadow people, can sense activity inside and outside my home.

More recently, things I’ve had occur have begun reoccurring:

  • A smell of sweet perfume or of my ex-husband’s cologne (still very alive and well).
  • Lights dim and go back to normal
  • I hear people talking as well as babies and kids whining.
  • My children’s toys that normally function properly will start blaring through the night. Different toy each time.

I’m very aware there’s a communication that needs to take place. I’m just confused on whom to consult.

I want to know who, what, when, where and why anyone, spirit or daemon in trying to inhabit my space. Any info or suggestions? I’m a very religious and devout person so I don’t want to make any wrong steps but believe the interactions are supposed to take place. Please help.

— Honey, Arizona

Finding comfort after miscarriage.

“It must be an angel …”

I had been experiencing weird symptoms and suspected something was going on. In December, 2015 I went to the Ob/Gyn and discovered that I was 10 weeks and 5 days pregnant (according to the ultrasound). I seen the little baby on the screen and the tiny heartbeat flickering. I was elated.

My excitement was soon replaced with fear in the upcoming weeks when I started experiencing symptoms.

In January, 2016 I suffered a miscarriage. I was devastated because I was 13 weeks along, past the “safe zone” of 12 weeks/3 months pregnant. I didn’t feel like eating or doing anything other than crying and sleeping. I couldn’t even function enough to go to work and took a week off. I felt so depressed and alone.

The scent of vanilla.

One night I was feeling very low when all of a sudden the overwhelming scent of vanilla filled my room. I felt this warm, comforting presence there. I don’t know why, but suddenly I didn’t feel like crying anymore. I thought that I was going nuts. This vanilla scent and presence has since returned again, on the day when that baby was supposed to be born and I was feeling low, thinking about the loss. It is here again now, while I am battling a wicked case of influenza. Something about it is calming and makes me feel like someone is here and cares.

“All I can figure is that it must be an angel or some other type of spiritual being.”

— Melissa, Michigan

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