Do You Believe? by Catherine Anne Collins

Hello. It’s great to be here today and many thanks to Hannah for allowing me a place to introduce myself and ponder the mysteries of the Universe. Wait, don’t leave. We can keep it light and just ponder the mysteries of our own world. How’s that? J

I recently attended a writer’s conference in Salem, Massachusetts. What better place for a writer with a vivid imagination and two books set in Salem? While researching the first book, A Witch’s Lament, my husband and I managed time away from our business to visit Salem during our Christmas holidays. I’m not complaining, BUT, going to a tourist town when many of the attractions and exhibits aren’t open, is not necessarily a good thing. So, when the opportunity arose to visit in the nicer weather, I wasn’t going to say no.

I promptly booked a room at one of the older, supposedly haunted hotels, reserved my spot on the Saturday night ghost walk, grabbed my camera, opened my mind, and took to the road with a friend of mine. After 10 hours of driving and the constant chatter that occurs when two writers find themselves locked in a car together, we arrived in Salem. A city of contradictions. Narrow streets lined with historic homes of unique and beautiful architecture. Modern shops, museums, and attractions attempting to satisfy visitors fascinated with a bloody past. Lively with the bustle and cheer of a tourist town, yet laden with a sombre thread of the terror that stained the streets with evil and death centuries earlier.

Anticipating a busy and productive couple of days, I focused my mind on the work aspect of the weekend, not thinking overly much about ghosts and goblins. In spite of my lack of attention, or maybe because of it, the ghost wasn’t long in making her presence known to me. Yes, she. It seems the resident hotel ghost is a woman and her name…drum roll, please…Catherine. She had the nerve to throw my chocolate in the garbage. Not just any chocolate, but good truffles that I’d bought at Ye Olde Pepper Candy Companie

At first I thought I’d misplaced the delectable treats, so I scoured the room looking for them. Perplexed, I sat on the bed and mentally ran over everything I’d done since eating one of them. I had sat on the bed, logged onto the laptop, eaten a candy, eaten a chocolate, and put both packages on the bed beside me while I checked e-mail. When I reached for another of the addictive truffles, I couldn’t find them. I searched the room, under the bed, in the closet, in my suitcase…everywhere. Shelley came in at that point, helped me look, and kept insisting that I must put them somewhere and forgotten. I swore, and still do, that I never left the bed. That’s when an inexplicable urge hit me to search the garbage. There sat my chocolates, innocently perched under a piece of discarded paper. Shelley hadn’t thrown them out and I certainly hadn’t, so how would you explain it?

Wait, there’s more. The ghost was busy that weekend. J Falling asleep after such a spine-tingling experience wasn’t easy, but I managed, only to wake during the night to a strange

noise. Since it sounded to be right beside me, I wondered what my roommate, Shelley, had taken to bed with her that would make so much noise. Kind of a rolling, metal rattle. The sound continued all night long, sometimes loud, other times quiet, but always sounding right beside me. Morning arrived and I climbed from bed bleary eyed and edgy. Feeling bad for silently cursing Shelley most of the night through, I politely asked her what she’d had in bed that made so much noise every time she moved. Her blank stare stilled any hope that a ghostly being hadn’t been responsible for bothering me all night.

Once I explained what I’d heard, we shook the bed, jumped on it…did everything we could to determine the cause of the noise. Nothing. As with the chocolate, no earthly explanation presented itself. Strangely, the next night at the ghost walk, nothing happened to compare to the experiences in my own hotel room.

Am I a believer? I’d say I’m a hard sell, but definitely a believer. Too many strange occurrences in my lifetime have ensured that. But that’s a story for another day.

So, are you a believer?

If Salem, witchcraft and magic interest you, check out my books based in Salem, Ma. Just so you know, I’ll be giving a book of your choice away to someone who posts a comment. Take care and have a great day. http://www.crescentmoonpress.com/Authors/CACollins.html