Tag Archives: paranormal

Memorist Giveaway Winners!

First off, let me say, I LOVED reading everyone’s Memorist comments — if past lives DO exist (and you already know I’m a total believer) you guys were a colorful bunch. Thanks so much to everyone for playing along!

Without further ado, I give you the book winners:

memoristwinners

Which translates to Laural Out Loud (Comment #8), who spent a past life as a pampered British lady of leisure; and Erin of Irascible Crayons (Comment #20), who most likely spent some time in the 30s or 40s. Congratulations ladies!

Keep checking back — I have some pretty awesome swag to give away in the coming weeks, just in time for the holidays. I’ll give you a hint. It involves really, really cool footwear. And wildlife. And possibly more reading material.

Yee hoo! I feel just like Santa! A girl could get hooked on this Giveaway Gig …

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Yippee! It’s The Memorist giveaway!

Been offline a few days due to a little laptop/internet issue, which seems to have worked itself out just in time for my VERY FIRST GIVEAWAY!

I’m kind of excited.

It’s kind of cool.

I’m kind of getting ahead of myself.

Let me back up.

TLC Book Tours contacted me and asked if I’d like to try reviewing a new book by a bestselling author. They thought the topic would be right up my alley, considering my penchant for the paranormal. That, plus a deep-seated love of books had me squealing “Free book? Yes! Yes! YEEEESSSS!!”

Turns out The Memorist by M.J. Rose WAS right up my alley. I’m going to cheat a little and give you an exerpt from the book jacket:

The dreads are back. As a child, Meer Logan was haunted by memories of another time and place, always accompanied by the faint strains of elusive music. Now the past has reached out again in the form of a strange letter that sets her on a journey to Vienna to unlock the mystery of who she once was.

With each step she comes closer to remembering connections between a clandestine reincarnationist society, a lost flute linked to Ludwig van Beethoven, and David Yalom, a journalist who understands all too well how the past affects the future.

Here’s my take. With each short chapter, Rose expertly weaves multiple points of view to tell the story of a woman struggling against a belief in past lives — even when everything tells her she has lived before — and what happens when her past catches up with her.

memoristIf you’re NOT like me, and this all seems a bit hinky for your taste, add modern day terrorism, a ton of fascinating historical background and storytelling on par with The Da Vinci Code to the mix. If THAT powder keg combination doesn’t spark your interest … you’re beyond Mommypie’s help.

It’s clear from the fantastic historical detail that Rose did her homework. And the way she painted Vienna? Never a place I had much interest in visiting, it’s now in my Top 10.

If I had to come up with a negative, it would probably be the large cast of characters. While an effective means of heightening suspense, I have to admit, it took awhile to keep so many people straight. However, it’s the character development that could make this thriller a great candidate for feature film. IMHO of course. I can totally picture it.

With that, in a shameless attempt to appear all official-like, The Pie House gives this book four and a half out of five pies.

4_5pies

By now, you’ve probably guessed what the GIVEAWAY is, yes? I have two hardcover editions of The Memorist, hot off the press, just waiting to be read by two lucky commenters. All you have to do is leave a comment by Sunday, 6 p.m. MST and tell me the following:

If past lives DO exist, who do you think YOU were? It doesn’t have to be someone famous — chances are you WEREN’T anyway. (Yeah, sorry.) And if you don’t believe in past lives, think of it as a hypothetical. It won’t affect the drawing outcome one way or another.

Big thanks to TLC Book Tours — I can’t wait to read everyone’s thoughts!

P.S. TLC also sent along some copies of Rose’s bestselling book, The Reincarnationist, which preceded The Memorist. I’ll be reading it next — doing things a bit backwards is my specialty — and giving away THOSE extra copies soon!

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Dreamjob? Ghost Hunter.

In the spirit of the season, I told a real life ghost story over at San Diego Momma’s while she’s away in New York. I’m a little late letting you know, but I reeallly don’t want to be a big fat BOMB on my Blog Buddy’s site, so I’m directing you there.

Buuaaahhhaaahahaha …

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Grandma No Like Me Doin’ The Nasty in Her House

vintagewoman.jpgAs promised, here’s one of my more recent smooky stories. This one actually ties into being a single mom.

So, a little background information before diving in … MP and I live in what used to be my grandmother’s house. She passed away (in the master bedroom) in 2005, and we moved in a few months later. Her bedroom became MP’s playroom, however, MP’s too afraid to play in there by herself. That’s a smooky story for another post …

Since MP’s birth four years ago, I’ve dated two men. The first was back in ’06. We’ll call him Ski Boy. Occasionally, Ski Boy would spend the night. (This was before MP could open her bedroom door on her own, so she had no idea there were ever sleepovers. I digress …) One bone of contention was the clock that sat on my bedside table.

It was a ticker. An old, cheap Big Ben my grandmother left behind when she passed away. And I loved it. The tick-tick-ticking of wind up clocks has always been something to put me to sleep. Unfortunately, the sound had the opposite effect for SB.

“Can we PLEASE do something about the bomb in the room?” he asked one night.

I placed the clock on the floor in the hall outside the bedroom and closed the door. I distinctly remember thinking, “Watch this thing go off in the middle of the night and scare the crap out of me.”

I absolutely remember checking to make sure the alarm was NOT set.

Hours later, I was startled from a deep sleep by the sound of the alarm going off in the hallway. Groggily, I looked at the backup digital clock. Three a.m. (For fans of Paranormal State, ‘Dead Time.’) My heart racing, I hurried out of bed, opened the door, reached for the clock in the darkness and silenced the deafening alarm. I knew I hadn’t set it.

It didn’t matter anyway.

The alarm hand was set to 7 a.m. Not 3.

There was no possible way that alarm should have gone off. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the button to try and recreate the scenario. Nothing.

Ski Boy rolled over and asked what was going on. I told him the alarm had gone off. He assumed I must have mistakenly set it, and promptly fell back asleep.

Maybe my grandmother wasn’t happy with the sleeping arrangement. Maybe she wasn’t happy about my choice in men. Maybe on some subconscious level, when I visualized the clock going off in the hallway before going to sleep, I put the energy out there. I hear you skeptics (Wait, maybe I’m PSYCHIC!) going, “Uh, maybe the clock was broken??”

Trust me. It wasn’t.

And for the Ghostbustin’ Virgins, allow me to introduce you to the smooky goodness that is Ghost Hunters.

Bwahaha …

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