Mary Lynn Plaisance Presents Ezra's Ghosts! - Most ghosts are friendly... But... What Happens When They Meet Their Murderer?!

 

My mama always said, 

"blessed are we who see what we see."

Ezra had never been as nervous as she was now with any of the ghosts she encountered, and she helped hundreds in her life find the white light to go home. Hundreds. “Jenna, don’t talk to me until we get home. Not one word. Just sit there and be quiet.”

“Okay.”

“Before I start the car, and then you keep quiet, why did you appear to me as a child?”

“Because I wasn’t sure you’d be the one I needed to protect until I saw Grant’s photo. So, appearing to you as a child, well… I thought you’d be more receptive to seeing me.”

“I’m a medium, Jenna. Since I was a child, I’ve seen apparitions. At five, of course, I was afraid. I told my grandma that I saw what I called… cloud people… because I didn’t know the word ghost… and she told me I was clairvoyant… same as she was. But she told me I didn’t need to be afraid. With her help, I learned to use my “gift” as she called it. But after a year, it became normal for me to see these visions. It’s not you who I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of what you said about Grant. Understand?”

“It’s true.”

“Let’s go home. Not another word until we get in the house. Just let me think while you sit quietly.”

“Okay.”

Allie and the two cats were still watching at the upstairs window, waiting for their return. When they saw the car pulling into the driveway they went downstairs. 

The front door slammed and Ezra threw her black beaded purse on the long Victorian sofa, filled with antique laces, along with herself.

“Okay, now I want to know why you’re here. Tell me everything you know about Grant. He’s can’t be a murderer. He’s well known here, Jenna. People get along with him, and he’s not a murderer or a rapist.”

Jenna sat on the long coffee table in front of the long sofa. She calmly told Ezra, “Grant murdered me. I know it’s him. I stayed in his apartment with tape over my mouth and tied to his bed for three days. He raped me every night and when the news got too close to finding me, he smothered me with a pillow and threw me into a canal when he left college in Florida to come to New Orleans. Ask Jason. He knows about this. He came into the apartment one night and…”

“Did Jason rape you?”

“No, he didn’t, but he suggested that he get rid of me as soon as possible and told Grant he was crazy or on some kind of bad drugs to do that to me. But Jason meant to let me go not kill me. Grant got mad and Jason left the apartment. Next thing I remember is that I saw a pillow over my face… and I’m in another world in water. Dead. My divorced parents never found me… and until today I don’t know where my physical body is.”

Ezra was in shock. Stunned. “I just can’t believe this story. I just can’t. As a clairvoyant, why didn’t I feel that Grant was this type of person? Why didn’t I ever see that part of his nature… inside of him?”

Jenna, in her white foggy vision, got up from the long coffee table and sat down next to Ezra on the sofa.

“You didn’t feel that part of him because that part of him never came out with you. He fell in love with you, and you only know the loving side of him. If you get him angry, he’ll get aggressive with you and he’ll hurt you. That’s why I’m here. It took me a year to find him.”

“How did you find him?” Ezra was mystified. 

“I heard your séance when the wind sent your words to me… and I followed the wind until I came to you. I saw your wedding photo with Grant and I knew I couldn’t leave you. I will never forget his face. Grant murdered me.”

Getting up from the sofa, Ezra walked into the kitchen to get some water. The lump in her throat was smothering her and the uneasiness in her chest was tightening. She paced for a while and then went back to sit on the sofa. “I’ve never had a ghost lie to me. I’m speechless.”

“I’m not lying,” Jenna said, as she folded her translucent arms around Ezra. Allie and the cats sat on the sofa with them and she joined in on the hug to comfort Ezra. Smokey and Sugar curled up on her lap. It was clear to see Ezra’s heart was torn apart and she was in shock.

“It’s only four o’clock,” said Jenna. “Go upstairs and lie down and think about what I said. I don’t think Grant will come back here.”

“But he lives here. We’re married. He has to come back home at some point in time. He has to.” Ezra was crying. Her mind was trying to process what Jenna told her and it just wasn’t registering. “He’s not a murderer. He can’t be.”

Allie brought her a tissue. Smokey stayed curled up close beside her and Jenna went back on the coffee table. As they watched Ezra cry her sorrows out, the front door opened. It was Grant.

“Ezra!”

“Grant, you’re back. Is the wedding over?”

“No, it’s not over. This party will go on late into the night and I’m staying in Jason’s guest house until I can come back and stay with you and your ghosts’ friends.”

Grant was clearly still annoyed but he seemed to get some pleasure in telling Ezra that he wouldn’t be with her.

“How long?” asked Ezra.

“How long… what?” Grant was quickly packing a small bag with some of his clothes and toiletries.

“How long will you be staying away from home?”

“I don’t know yet, Ezra Smith. You’ve made me so embarrassed in front of my friends. I told Jason a little about you and your ghosts. He won’t tell anyone else, so don’t worry about that. He’s drinking and having fun.”

“You told him! You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone. How could you?”

“Did you hear me?” Grant stood straight up with both hands on his hips as to show her he was the boss. “I said… he won’t tell anyone, so don’t worry. Have fun here with your little ghost friends. I’ll call you when I’m ready to come home.”

Ezra got up from the sofa and threw a vase at him, but it hit the opened door and not Grant.“No! You don’t call me! I’ll call you if I want you back here. I don’t know who you are. Did you…”

Jenna pushed Ezra on the sofa. “Don’t tell him anything about the murder. He’ll hurt you right now.”

“Did I what… Ezra?”

“Never mind. Just get the hell out of my house!” Ezra cried. 

“I’m doing that right now.” He slammed the front door shut and Ezra ran after him. She immediately stopped crying when she got to the door and saw him go into a strange car that Ezra had never seen before and sat next to a woman she didn’t know. But she didn’t know any of Jason’s friends or family.

Slamming the front door shut, she yelled,“Oh! I’m so mad right now. I hope he chokes on a chicken bone at the buffet! Grant was never like this. Never. Over something that we could sit down and talk about, he’s mad as all hell at me.”

“He won’t talk to you about his past or any murder he committed,” said Jenna. “So, let him go. He’ll call you. In the meantime, after you settle down, I can tell you about what he did to me. He did rape me, and after that, he murdered me. I can tell you everything.”

“Then will you want to go into the white light?”

“I’m not leaving you until I know you’re safe. He’s a dangerous man.”

Ezra threw herself on the sofa and cried some more and Smokey and Sugar laid down next to her again. Jenna and Allie sat on the coffee table and watched...

What would you do if somebody told you that your husband had committed murder? Would you believe that your loving husband was capable of murder? Taking it a step further, what if the one who told you that he was a murderer, was an actual victim of your husband?!

Ezra is our main character. She is a successful author of ghost stories but she is also a clairvoyant... And, although nobody knows it, her books are actually nonfiction stories about those individuals who have died and she helped move on into the light... Ezra is also still early in her honeymoon period and is very happy with Grant, remembering often how she felt each morning as they made love. He was so loving...

Jenna picked up her words on the wind and had come to hunt for her, as a new ghost who was trying to figure out what to do next. Her ghost had left her watery grave after having been murdered... She, at least, figured out she had died and could remember that man's face as he had raped her...

Ezra had been able to purchase a new home based upon her earnings, so Grant had just moved in with her. He did not know, then, that Allie, a ghost, was living in the attic, who was shy but made no trouble for Ezra as they were working through what options were available to her.. She, too, had been raped and murdered in her teens and was still struggling with that trauma...

Ezra had never had any problem with any of those who had died unexpectedly and had little understanding what happened afterward. In fact, she had never had any of these lost souls lie to her, but she was positive that Jenna had lied...

Jenna knew she was not lying and she decided that she wasn't interested in going into the light--she was immediately afraid on behalf of Ezra and vowed not to leave until the truth about her new husband was proven... And, soon, Grant had forced Ezra to reveal that there were ghosts in her house...and he wasn't happy. After a heated discussion, he left... and threatened that he didn't know when he'd be back... In the meantime, Jenna went into details of exactly how she had been married... And then, Ezra napped and had a horrible dream which revealed even more!

“Jenna, you’re beautiful.” Ezra cried. “How could Grant do those harmful things to you? I’ll never understand the ways of the wicked mind. Never.”

Ezra wiped her tears and composed herself. With a clear mind, she spoke to Allie.

“Allie, I know why you stayed with me for two years. Grant murdered you when you were in high school. None of this was your fault. I know now that he’s a murderer and a rapist. He has a small lightning bolt on his wrist. He told me that he and some of the other guys were in a club in high school and this was their symbol. I’m so sorry. Your body will never be found either. It’s in Bayou St. John. 

After that incident, Grant graduated and left for a college in Florida.He didn’t even know who you were. I’m so sorry he did this to you.He will pay dearly for what he’s done to you. Everyone who purposelydoes harm… pays in the form of karmic debt to the Universe.It’s a Universal law of nature. That’s why no one should purposely do harm to anyone. Intent is everything to your karma.”

“The crooked arrow was a lightning bolt, Miss Ezra? I didn’t have time to look that good at his tattoo, but I understand now.”

“Yes. Grant has that tattoo on his wrist along with his gang of eight as he called them. His socalled “friends.” They all ended up in a college in Florida. Now, I know why you stayed in the attic when he was home.You couldn’t be near him, but didn’t know why.”

Feeling relieved to know how she died, Allie’s body transformed the same way Jenna’s body did. She looked human. No more visions of white were floating around the air in the house. Ezra was amazed at this transformation...

~~~

Allie had also been murdered as a teenager by Grant! And both ghosts then began to learn more about their abilities as a ghost... And planned on ensuring in one way or another that their murderer was convicted for their deaths!

And that proved to be quite fun for readers... When Grant threatened to expose that Ezra's books were really nonfiction, she became worried that her "gift" would be exposed and fans would turn against her...

Once again, Plaisance takes readers into a tour of the supernatural and keeps us interested right from the beginning. After all, having a ghost for a friend could prove to be advantageous, don't you think? Do check out this book and search her name in the right column to read about her other books I've also enjoyed!

GABixlerReviews

Guest Poet, Mary Lynn Plaisance, Presents The Sha Bebe Walz, Based upon her Book Series

 

The Sha Bebe Waltz

by Mary Lynn Plaisance

While waltzing along the braided rug road, we sing The Sha Bebe Waltz.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  All the Sha Bebe Dolls LOVE music!    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   The sun has gone down here in Sha Bebe Land  So we waltz along holding hand in hand,  All dressed for bed to rest for the night  Guided by the glow of so many firebug lights.  As we dance along the braided rug road  For this is the only passage we know,  We remember that we can never go wrong  Cause this road leads us back to our sugar shack home.  While waltzing along the braided rug road  Waltzing along the braided rug road,  Dancing and dancing we all sing this song  While waltzing along the braided rug road.  When all of the dolls are snuggled in bed  Those beautiful, sleepy rag doll heads,  Good dreams will come to them all through the night  Cause making humans happy is their main delight.  While waltzing along the braided rug road  Waltzing along the braided rug road,  Dancing and dancing we all sing this song  While waltzing along the braided rug road.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Bien Merci   Mary Lynn Hebert Plaisance

This poem originally posted at Author's Den where Mary is a member

See all of her artistic endeavors there

Mary, thanks so much for sharing here during National Poetry Month

Your range of creativity is truly outstanding! 

Glenda

Mary Lynn Plaisance Shares "I Paid Attention" Response by GABixler - "Emotionally Damaged..."

 

The Sounds of Silence

You can't make someone like you.  It's impossible...   I PAID ATTENTION --I paid attention when I didn't get the invite. --I paid attention when I didn't get a thank you. --I paid attention when I didn't get the apology. --I paid attention when a room would go silent when I entered. --I paid attention when folks believed lies about me and never asked me. --I paid attention when they didn''t show up for me. --I paid attention when my important life events didn't even get a congratulatory phone call or text. --I paid attention to the disrespect, and yes, I took it personally. So now I rarely leave my bubble, my space. I choose my peace every time. If I make it to an event I'm invited to consider it a blessing. I raised the bar for who has the pleasure to be around MY SPIRIT. Because I have a good spirit. After three trips to the ER for anxiety from trying to make everyone happy, I'm done fighting the negative spirits that were created to belittle me. It took me a decade of crying and depression to numb three decades of a few envious family members and friends. But I finally did it and I'm at peace with myself. I say thank you everyday that this happened with only a handful of people. But it's always the ones you love deeply who do this, because strangers can't leave a deep wound inside of you. Strangers only leave little scratches. I don't understand cruelty and rudeness. I never will. So put on your crown, cry if you must, and hold your head high. You did all you could. Painting by me -- Mary Lynn Plaisance (c) titled--- "The Sound of Sadness." Web Site: Author Mary Lynn Plaisance ~~~ I've always thought of myself as the Black Sheep of the family... I still do... Though my experiences may have been different from Mary Lynn, still, at an emotional level, we are very much alike... --I knew from early in life that I was different... --I knew that having 4 members of my family touch me inappropriately, that it had changed me in some basic subtle way... --I knew that, even though youngest, I was perhaps the oldest in experience, knowledge...exposure... --I knew that exposure would affect me the rest of my life... --I knew, and recognized, that I had nothing in common with any of my family. --I knew that, at least, nobody was interested enough in me to ask about my life issues... --I knew that, somehow, my involvement in the church would not solve everything, even if that's what I was often told...  --I knew that seeing my mother, alone, working to raise 4 children, was hard... Even when an adult, we never really talked... --I knew that even when something happened in my life, members of my family would have no idea about it, or wouldn't care, if they did. --I knew I was included in holidays because I was part of family. --I knew also that they would never ask about me, my life, my concerns... --I knew that I was different and just a few within the family, 2 or 3 would ever really talk to me... and my life... --I knew that I had developed my work ethic from my mother... --But, when I was emotionally damaged through that work, that nobody would really try to understand exactly how I became "damaged..." --And, when I needed to share, I was sent to the church... or written a letter telling me that she hadn't realized I had been molested... --And, when another learned, she tried to say it didn't happen... --Books became my best and most loyal friend...and through those books, many true acquaintances who became friends, like Mary Lynn and those whose books I've read and talked about. I know that I have come full circle in my life. It has been mostly a happy life since I really never expected much from family, after all, it had never been there along the way... I know that my primary part of the family was that I was a good listener... and I did listen... But my life had become so much more than routine that nobody really could ever understand...and didn't even try to... My friends, my life, has been spent with those outside of my family for the majority of time. Now at my age, I, too, stay in my home, no longer needing any of my family who could never understand "me" as I am now... A totally different person to them, simply because they never really ever tried to know the person I am... and always had been. Two of the family members who most knew me are now gone... Quite accidentally, I met another one... She, too, is a good listener...And, now, I do have one person in the family who "loves my mind..." My damaged mind, still functioning, still alert, but still damaged... I value more and more those online friends and connections with whom I can relate. We talk books, I can learn and exchange ideas without fear of being "not understood..."  And, they would not, like several family members had done, scold me about the books I was reading--never seeing or caring that I "reviewed" books, which may or may not have changed me personally. And, in the end, that itself is sufficient... Thank you Mary Lynn for sharing your life with me...and, being willing to allow me to share my life with you!

But there is always another Friend... who listens, doesn't He? And, sometimes, sends an answer...

Mary Lynn Plaisance, Guest Blogger, Shares "Creating to Cope" AND A Halloween Short Story!

Writing and art are ways of expressing yourself. Serenity Creek Beside the Garden

To Create Helps Me Cope

*** Welcome to my Other World ***

Collectible prints of my art are found at Fine Art America. I love impressionism...

I am selling the originals from my home studio, Studio One and on Etsy. All copyrights to any originals are retained by me.  I have over 250 paintings of all sizes in my home where my gallery is located. All of these are my artwork, even Mona Lisa!

!!!

For me, putting a new canvas on my easel and picking my color pallet along with which brush will bring me the best results for the piece of art I want to paint is beyond magnificent. I couldn''t live well without writing, painting in acrylics, and music. I'm an eclectic artist by nature. I created my own style. I have over 250 pieces of art in my studio and just as many books in my library.

I took art lessons in the 80s in oil and pastels--an exciting time in my life. I''ve learned much. I loved coloring in a coloring book when I was a child. I always had one. To me, my coloring book was art. Today, my canvas and brush are my coloring book...

Life is too short to let it pass by without leaving your mark on this planet in some small way. So, I create art in many mediums, mostly on canvas, sometimes wood. I also write novels, creating my own book covers. Anything to bring me happiness and joy, I create it. Hopefully, you, too, will receive just a part of that happiness and joy each time you come across something I've created.

I also create art to bring a message across. I have hidden messages in most of my paintings. And books. I paint my moods.

DO YOU LIKE OTHER ARTS THAT 

HELP YOU COPE?

My version of Van Gogh's GARDEN AT ARLES

~~~ 

Halloween Horror

On this Friday morning Betty woke up at 3:33 from a nightmare about a vampire. She despised vampires, but in her dream, she was fixing a lady’s hair in her beauty salon on main street. When she sprayed her thick black hair, the lady turned around, looked at her, and quickly bit her on the neck as fast as a serpent's strike. She woke up sweating and out of breath.

Compose yourself, Betty. It was only a dream. She thought. Take deep breaths.

Deep breathing always helped her anxiety. She looked up and saw her "Bride of the Dead" costume hanging from the closet door and laughed. "Oh! Today's Halloween. That has to be why I dreamed about a darn vampire. Macy and I are dressing up for all of our hair and nail appointments... and giving out candy in front of the salon tonight. Time for ghoulish things, and ghosts and goblins... bats and rats. 

A chill went through her body. She feared bats and rats. Getting out of bed she said, now continuing to talk to herself! "What the hell is it about Halloween that makes it fun? I don't like vampires, bats, and rats... and more?" She thought for a while... "It has to be the costumes," she giggled. "I love costumes and mounds of makeup."

Getting dressed to go to work, she looked in her dresser mirror. Taking her white cake powder makeup, she slapped it all over her face. The Bride of the Dead had to look dead, and she sure did. She added a dab of black lipstick under her eyes and smeared it around. Then, she added a lot of black on her lips. Her long white wig finished her costume and she was off to work.

Opening the front door to the salon, she turned the sign to OPEN. After turning all of the lights on, she went straight to the coffee pot, and soon the smell of fresh coffee filled the beauty parlor. Outside the shop, on the sidewalk, she had a small table for four. She decided to sit there and wait for Macy to come to the salon. There was a fresh cool breeze that passed in front of her face... only her face... as one young girl whizzed by in front of her. As the breeze passed by, she saw Macy coming down the sidewalk.

"Good morning, Betty. Ready for Halloween... with all of the bats and rats you don't like?"

"Yes, I'm ready. Like my Bride of the Dead costume?" She got up to twirl her dress around so Macy could see the total look.

"Yes indeed. I love your white face, Betty. It looks like someone just sucked all of the blood right out of you."

"Well, I woke up feeling like that. I had this dream about... 

Macy interrupted her, "Oh! Good morning Miss McVeil. Look at you with your cute witch outfit on. Want some coffee with us before I do your hair?"

"I'd love some, Macy." She went inside to get her a cup of coffee. "How you doing, Betty?"

"Well, I woke up from a nightmare about..."

Miss McVeil interrupted her. "Oh, Betty, it's also Friday the 13th. In my 70 years on earth, I can’t remember the last time Halloween was on a Friday the 13th. How about that? Extra spooky things will happen all day long. And there's a full moon out tonight, too."

"Yeah, how about that? Odd huh?" Betty smiled but wanted to laugh. Miss McVeil was eccentric and now the beginnings of dementia was setting in. She couldn't bring herself to tell her there was no Friday the 13th for Halloween, so she drank her cup of coffee and went inside to begin her day. Apparently, no one wanted to hear about her vampire dream.

The day went by smoothly. They completed their list of appointments and had fun telling ghost stories and giving each customer an orange popcorn ball. It was time to close the shop and add Halloween decorations to the table in front of the shop on the sidewalk. All of the shops gave candy to the children who passed by. Every year there was a parade of children who lined the streets in every costume imaginable.

Eight o'clock was approaching and that was the time for everyone to clear the streets and go home. The candy was all gone and Macy helped Betty bring the decorations and the empty candy bowls inside. Suddenly, Betty saw Miss McVeil coming towards them at a fast pace for her advanced age, her long black wig flying in the cool breeze. She looked like a real witch flying low on a broom. Trailing behind her long black dress, was a young girl who would not stop following her, dressed like Dracula's bride.

"Betty... Macy... Help me!"

 "What's wrong Miss McVeil?"

"That girl behind me has been following me for two blocks. She says she's a little vampire. I don't like vampires."

Betty immediately ran for the shop door to hide but everyone went inside, including the young girl. Betty got a broom to stop the girl from advancing towards her, but it didn't help.

Miss McVeil yelled, "Don't hit that girl with a broom! She's harmless!"

"I'm not going to hit her. I just want her to stay away from me. Tell her to get out of my shop. Now!"

Miss McVeil changed the tone of voice from fear to sounding like a sweet old lady. "Oh, she won't hurt you, Betty. All she wants is a little bite of your skin. Just an ounce of your blood will do just fine, my dear."

Betty backed away and bumped into Macy. "NO! I had a dream about a vampire this morning, but none of you wanted to hear my dream. I don't like them. Macy, help me get them out of the shop."

She turned around to look at Macy and she took hold of her waist, smiled, and showed her fangs.

"Macy! Is this a joke?"

"No Betty, it's not a joke. The young girl is mine and she needs some of your blood."

"You never told me you had a daughter Let me go and all of you get out of my shop. Now, or I''ll call the cops."

Betty’s heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to pop out of her chest. "Get out!" She was struggling with Macy to get loose of her grip around her waist. The young girl came closer and closer to her.

"Macy, get your little monster away from me!" she yelled as she struggled to get free of Macy's hold on her. Macy wouldn't let go of her waist.

Slowly the young girl came in front of Betty. A cool breeze passed across her face, and like the strike of a snake, the girl stuck her fangs into Betty's neck. Betty SCREAMED with fear and then stayed quiet for a whole minute, her long white wig over Macy's daughter who was sucking the blood from her neck. When she had enough, she backed away with her lips full of Betty's blood.

"Thanks Mama. This was the best Halloween I ever had."

"Good darling. I'm glad you had fun. Now go home with grandma and I''ll close up this shop for the night."

Macy propped Betty in one of the hair styling chairs and cleaned up the fang marks on her neck.

The next morning the police were called by her first client when she saw Betty in the chair through the window, not moving as she kept banging on the door.

Her death was classified as a heart attack. The police questioned all of her shop neighbors on the block. Everyone said she was alone on the streets giving candy for Halloween and looked fine in her Bride of the Dead costume.

No one ever saw Macy, her Mama, or her daughter. 
 

(c) Mary Lynn Plaisance / 10/2018

Mary Lynn Plaisance was born in Louisiana and all of her stories take place in “some small town” in La. If the story leads her into a city, it’s always New Orleans. Her writing is simple but her stories are deeply enthralled with drama, same as her life. Drama Mama, wrapped into one big bundle of hope in the end. Always fiction. Always bold. There’s always a story because there’s always something. As an author, she has a magnificent imagination of stories that begs her to take a pen out and put her words on paper. It may have been her love of movies that gave her such an active imagination or her love of reading. But whatever makes the wheels in her mind roll, she keeps them rolling. She says, "An active mind is at peace, no matter if you write, read, paint, have a hobby.... whatever your passion is, keep expressing your self. So, tell your stories and let the pen roll. Tomorrow is promised to no one. Let the words flow from the depths of your soul." This Louisiana Author who’s known as The Drama Mama is also known as The Sha Bebe Lady. She has five fantasy books about a magical doll land and five books of fiction in different genres in The Drama Mama Series. ___________________ You can find her books on Amazon, Barnes and Noble as well as many book stores and other websites online. Google her name.  Books by Mary Lynn Plaisance ~~~ Thanks to Mary Lynn for visiting on Halloween! But I especially wanted to share her article about coping. For me, it's reading and blogging! What is your special "Me Time?" Want to write and share? Then comment on this article to let me know how to reach you! By the way,  I'm hoping I can convince Mary Lynn to be an ongoing contributor! So check back often, you never know what's happening at Book Readers Heaven! God Bless Gabbie

A Generation Gone Bye--An Unforgettable Family Drama by Mary Lynn Plaisance Eliciting Many Responses For Me...

 

There are many, many stories about three sisters, one of which would be my own. But when I saw the cover of Mary Lynn Plaisance's latest novel, I really had no idea what would be covered other than that there were three women, wearing hats, and looking, well, like an older generation of just about anybody's family... For me, the above song seemed to complement the story that I actually found. Are there "Hungry Ghosts" living in your family--some now dead, but some, still alive?

For it is the memories that each of us have brought from the past into the future... A lot are good memories. Yet, those that hurt us, confused us, or downright angered us, hang around just like hungry ghosts who haunt us sometimes daily, occasionally, or, perhaps, all the time...

The family drama in A Generation Gone Bye has just six main characters. The three sisters who appears on the cover. And their husbands. For three of those, the ghosts of the past are lived daily--in their trying to help those who were also affected by what happened to them. That is the three husbands. Their secrets have been kept all of their lives, until...now. The Now being the book which, you, just may want to also read.

The other three characters are the three sisters. For the most part, just as when I and my two older sisters attended church, we were referred to as "The three sisters." Although my mother never had asked us for a promise, since she had ensured that all of us attended church every time the door opened, we also attended church, as the three sisters on the front cover did. They all wore hats each Sunday. I have to think that the difference was that we grew up in a protestant church, while the three women in the book grew up in the catholic church.

But one of the women attending the catholic church decided she was not happy there. For one, she hated wearing a hat, and would take it off as soon as she left the building. Second, she found what might be called the ritual of the church--repeating the same bits of prayer or scripture or doctrine each Sunday without cease--as, boring. She decided she didn't want to go any more.

This book set me back, memory-wise, to a time when I had just gone on medical leave, from job burnout. I spent the majority of my time either crying or sleeping. I was also totally withdrawn from the outside. I remember my older sister rapidly saying that I needed to get to church, go to the front to be blessed by holy water... While, at the same time, I had also talked with my pastor. He and his wife came to visit me, immediately came to me and prayed for me. As they talked, I listened, saying little. I do remember saying something like, "they have no right to treat people like they do..." My pastor quickly suggested that I needed to visit my doctor and seek assistance. I remember that I immediately noticed the difference in the two recommendations. One to turn to the church and one to turn to somebody who could help me physically, if possible. Having that happen, allowed me to know that I was able to trust my own feelings that I was beyond the point of "prayer..."

Now I quickly point out that I am not saying that prayer is not a very important part of religious belief. Rather, I am one who believes that God gave the gift of healing to many who are now helping us when our body needs attention...and that is a good and right thing to do and does not detract from God's position in our lives.

So, just as my first difference of opinion on a major thing affected me and my sister's relationship, frankly, from then on. So, too, did the relationship of the two sisters begin to change in the book. And, naturally, because there were three sisters, the other was soon involved in discussions related to how the first sister had changed her feelings about not wanting to attend mass again.

Since it was standard that the three couples would traditionally have Sunday dinner, it was during one of these gatherings that the family members started to share their secrets... And discussions began...

“Audrey, now that she’s calmed down, look in her dresser drawers for two slips. We’re going to shower her with all of us dressed in a slip. It’s better than seeing each other naked.” Charlotte giggled. “She’ll be okay. We’ll take our time. She’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” “I feel good helping her. I’m not worried anymore,” Audrey said as she took one of the pills from the bottle. There was no name on the bottle but she assumed it was the pills Barbara was taking because the word antidepressant was handwritten on the small bottle as Charlotte told her. When they began undressing Barbara in her shower and she saw that they were all wearing slips, she began to cry, openly. “I’ve hurt both of you and Mat terribly. I’m so sorry for the things I told all of you. I’m so sorry.” Charlotte and Audrey cried with her while Charlotte was washing her hair. Barbara was still woozy, but she knew what she was saying. All three of them were soaked. “Everything will be okay,” said Audrey. Charlotte told her that she might not remember what she said. Barbara’s answer in the shower echoed that she did know what she was saying. She was sorry. “We all have done wrong in our lives at one time or another,” Charlotte told Barbara. “Right now you’re showing us that you have a beautiful soul and heart, and that’s all that counts.” They all cried and kind of giggled as they showered Barbara singing a song they remembered playing loud in the car when they were young by Bob Marley. Three Little Birds… Mat and Maggie giggled as they could hear them singing in the shower but they didn’t enter the room.

~~~

But when you open up scars, wounds, often the real truth will come out...

You know, folks, it is not an easy situation to learn of when one or more family members share that they have been abused...and that ultimately it has perhaps affected their entire lives and how they are now living.

Mary Lynn Plaisance has taken a touchy, prevalent subject that has been hidden and supported by covering up the offenses for decades. I remember one of my uncles, a baptist minister, would visit and bring small pamphlets talking about the sexual abuse within the catholic church. And, now, this same offense has been discovered within the baptist convention as well...

I believe strongly that if we do not continue to expose the problem... I don't know, even as I write this, I cannot think that things will immediately, or ever, change. However, we must continue to try. Issues covered in this drama are: sexual abuse by religious leaders, family interpersonal relationships, assault victims and their lives,  mindless following (cult), suicide, drug use. Plaisance, with her own brand of writing, does an exceptional drama in exposing, discussing, and recognizing that some, unfortunately, can never accept that the lies they had been told by clergy were, indeed lies. Her ending spotlights, in my opinion, just how some Americans have entered into a cult where lies, hatred, prejudice and violence are part of the web of deceit that is woven by those who are powerful in our daily lives and who take advantage of that power to subjugate and control.

Audrey couldn’t wait for Maggie to come home on Monday to spend the week with her in her own home. Then, she began to wonder what she would do the week after that. “One day at a time…” Audrey thought. She decided to lie down on the sofa to think of things she could do without Luke in her life after Maggie left for her week. “I can’t think of anything I want right now but for Luke to be home with me. Everything should be back the way it was,” she cried, “but I know it can’t. I’m not insane or delusional. Everything will be different.”

One final comment, if you are ever in a position where you question what is happening, just stop and ask yourself: What would Jesus Do? If you do that, knowing of God's Love for Us, you just might know how to handle the many issues that face us, especially today, in a world that has never been so corrupt, at least in my own memory... 

God Bless,

Gabbie

Have You Read Mary Lynn Plaisance, Writer Extraordinaire? And My Friend! Here's The Latest of Hers I just Finished! The Voice Behind the Small Attic Door

 

I have a stack of TBR Books for Mary Lynn Plaisance on my piano top... They await until I can figure out just how to get back to reading paperbacks with my new eye prescription inserts. So far, even adjusting to Kindle is not as easy as it once was... Soooo, when I got an email from Author's Den about one of Mary's books, I zoomed out to Amazon* and read it in a day...

Fortunately, the suspense starts right at the beginning, so that by the time I was reading into the night, I was fully aware...and had met...

Piddle Paddle Waddle.”

Marion and Walter brought their distraught daughter to their home from the church. Susan was clearly in shock. The doctor was on his way, a psychiatrist and neighbor, and a friend of the family for decades. She needed to be sedated. The tragic event after the wedding was a nightmare, and they wondered how Susan would make it through such a horrifying experience. When Dr. Jenkins arrived, he ordered the paramedic to give Susan a shot of valium to calm her shaking body. The paramedic unit stayed parked in front of the house well into the night. Susan had been crying since they left the church and no one could calm her down. Still in her wedding dress, Marion and Walter brought her upstairs to the room she had as a child. She would rest much better in her quiet room upstairs than in any one of the rooms downstairs filled with grieving family members. Marion and Walter needed time to think about what they would do for Susan. As they closed the door to her room, they saw that she fell asleep holding on to her big, white, stuffed bear that she named Titus. She had him since she was only five years old. Her stuffed white bear was the same size as her when she was five years old, and he was her special friend ever since then. When anything went wrong, she held Titus close to her heart. Standing in the upstairs hallway, Dr. Jenkins told Marion and Walter, “Today will stay in Susan’s mind for quite a long time. None of you will be able to console her. Just let her do what she wants, short of harming herself, and time will take its course in her recovery. There’s nothing more to do.” Marion and Walter were still in tears. “I don’t think she will ever be well again,” said Marion. “She wanted to get married since she was a child. She always played bride and groom, but there was never a groom. Her room was filled with toys, and she had so many little party dresses of all colors, but she loved the white dresses most. She was always the bride.” Marion’s tears could not stop flowing down her cheeks while she spoke.

“Like I said, this will take years for her to get over, if ever. She will need therapy.I’ll help you if you want. If not, I can leave you with the name of a good therapist who may be able to help her later. As this event sinks into her mind, it will take a while for her to accept what happened. She will be in denial, and then she will get angry. After the anger comes depression, before she can accept what happened. All of this is normal when anyone goes through grief.” 

Marion cried more than before. “Thank you Doctor Jenkins. Please help Susan. She knows you.”

“I’ll do all I can to help her. Give Susan these pills when she wakes up, as needed. Just give her time. Lots of time.”

“Thank you so much, Doc.” Walter grabbed the doctor in an embrace of sorrow. There were no words to say. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and this was surely unexpected.

Marion and Walter went downstairs to talk to the family and Susan’s friends. They ate what the caterers brought to their home from the wedding reception. Everyone shared stories of the morning and mingled to find some comfort. Both sides of the family were still in shock. After four o’clock, the caterers took their equipment, and friends and family cleaned up everything in the kitchen and living room. Dr. Jenkins stayed for a while longer to make sure Susan was okay. Harry, Velma, and Gladys stayed to help overnight.

The thought of such a bazaar accident was beyond comprehension. Nothing like this ever entered anyone’s mind.

Susan stayed asleep in her room. Susan’s room with the small attic door...

~~~

Susan had been looking forward to being married since a very early age. Part of that was because her parents owned a boutique where she was surrounded by beautiful, fanciful clothes. And she even had the opportunity to wear dresses in their commercials! Dozens of dresses she had worn for parties were now tucked away carefully in their attic.

In fact, Susan's parents doted on their only child and had given her anything she wanted, so that, as she grew older and had met the man of her dreams, they even bought a home to live in pending the marriage ceremony.

Author's Wedding Day!

And, indeed, the wedding was

beautiful with Susan in her $30,000 dream dress that was made to her exact specifications, even if she did have trouble getting into and out of her limousine... And everybody would enjoy those funny pictures and all the photographer was taking--as he had done for every moment of the event!

But once Mike had helped her push the tull to allow the door to close, he anxiously ran around to his side of the limo...

Nobody saw the car coming... And then it came into view, curving wildly, fast, and clearly out of control. And, actually, there was no driver... Susan saw the car push Mike away from the car and she swiftly turned trying to get out, while her mother rushed up, trying to keep her in the car... Trying to protect her child from seeing that her, now, husband...was...dead...

Nobody knew how to deal with such a tragedy. Emergency vehicles swiftly appeared to help in many ways, one of which was to help take the family to their home. Many later gathered at Susan's parents home and the food from the reception site was carried in... 

Titus and Susan

But Susan was asleep with Titus, her protector and friend since the age of 5 when he came to first visit and stayed. She had always hugged him tightly as she fell asleep each night. But, now, she clung to him day and night, sleeping mostly, and never leaving her room, ignoring food and anybody who wanted her to come out.

Her parents' bedroom was near Susan's and, as her father got up the next morning, he heard talking from Susan's room. He knocked, then looked in. Susan was hugging Titus and sleeping...

Hearing talking continued, but Susan, even if awake, said she wasn't talking to anybody.  When asked about calling any of her friends, she said she had lost her phone. Was she talking to herself?

Finally, one morning she woke up as if after a long sleep. She greeted her mother and told her she had to hurry this morning because she had a test...Susan, according to her doctor who came immediately, sadly indicated that she had apparently pushed out all recent memories and was back, safe, in school... But, even then, she began to talk back to her father with snide remarks. Soon both parents found her now abusive, after there never having been situations like these in the past. 

And the talking went on...

The intriguing part about this Louisiana Author is that you will never know what to expect when you open one of her books.  Readers will quickly pick up on the suspense as the book starts. We have already raised the question--well, who is the voice that lives in the attic? Perhaps Susan had an imaginary friend and in her loss of memory has begun to talk to that individual from her past... I love how the author pulls us along as, seemingly, events begin to not happen as planned. 

What we do know is that something happened to Susan after her husband was, essentially, run over by an empty car! Has she had a breakdown? Trauma that has affected her mind and reality?

Well, to know what happened to Susan, you'll have to meet Piddle Paddle Waddle... You'll find her in the video above if you look carefully... So, I just have one question for all of you? Are you a kind person, who does acts of kindness?

If not. Beware...

GABixlerReviews 

*A number of proofreading issues was found in the book format; however, they did not interfere with my enjoyment

What's Happening at Book Readers Heaven - ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT Featuring Words of Mary Lynn Plaisance and Martin Luther King

So, I was thinking about what I wanted to say about no longer accepting requests for reviews...and posting after such a long time... For me, lots of things have been and are continuing related to my health and I'll share on that from time to time... It was kinda ironic, though to think about the words I used for a title...and wouldn't you know it, this phrase, Attitude Adjustment, popped into my mind...Here's an interesting idea of what I mean:

You see, our attitude affects the way we view life and this influences our behavior and communication. And, the way we behave and communicate influences any situation we experience. Because of this, if you have a negative attitude, you are more likely to create a negative outcome.  

Hank Williams even sang about it...

I'm not much for country music, especially some with words that would never apply to me; however, I had to chuckle with these songs that followed each other.. sometimes I get gentle nudges for complementing my blog articles with music... Family Traditions struck me also...after all, apparently I'm the only non-republican in the family...Yikes! Funny, it bothers the family more than it bothers me!

You See, my attitude made a big adjustment when Donald Trump was elected president...and it immediately affected my interest and ability to write reviews as I had in the past. 

 I've always felt that I could maintain quite a bit of objectivity in writing my reviews...Not so much these days, however... 

I'll probably be writing more about this as time goes by, but in the meantime, I've realized that many writers have been affected or influenced by what is happening in today's world, and especially during the last 5 years or so...

The best illustration is from one of my favorite fiction writers, Mary Lynn Plaisance... Here is what she writes on the back cover:

• 
  

  

  He should've never said this. Never. He has no empathy.

  My Dad IS a Hero
• No one has the right to call him a loser. Especially a "president" of the USA who was a draft dodger...

She writes more in her Introduction...

The day that Donald Trump called Veterans "Suckers" and "Losers" was the day I vehemently hated him, and I'm not a person who hates. I can also forgive easily, but I can't forgive him for all of the harm he has brought to America and to the world with his fascist ways of ruling this country. I never liked him since the '80s when he was in the news for his first divorce. I thought he was an arrogant man then, and today, I think he's vile. Trump is a loser for sucking up to dictators and criminals. He doesn't deserve to walk in any veterans' shoes and shouldn't be allowed in any Veteran grave site or at any memorial ceremony of any kind. He hates Veterans. He was impeached and shouldn't even be allowed to be president for a second term. That's all I have to say about that "man."

Let this be a remembrance of the legacy that Trump leaves behind as well as being an impeached president. I never did call him a president and never will. He's a malignant narcissist who belittled every one of our allies and uplifted every dictator on the planet. He's a coward and a bully. All bullies are insecure and weak. Cowards like him need to put other people down to lift themselves up. He said this:

https://ky.aflcio.org/news/progress-america-why-should-i-go-cemetery-it-s-filled-losers

'Why Should I go To That Cemetery? It's filled with Losers."--Donald Trump

He should've never said this. Never. He has no empathy.

My Dad, who IS a Hero was nothing like Trump. Now let me tell you about my Dad, a true hero, who died in 1991 of a massive heart attack...My Dad enlisted in the Army.

~~~

• Mary was affected by our past president.
• I was also affected...

Now in the present, I've had to consider, think about, and decide just how much I have changed...Not much, in reality. Maybe a lot for those who thought they knew me... When I open a new book and find references or a storyline related to the past president, or involving the government, I am unable to be objective...My personal response to him is too prejudicial for me to ignore the relationship or connection of the actions presented in a book. I had to put Mary's book aside until I am able to read her story of her father from an unbiased standpoint.

Even now, I can no longer be the avid reader and lover of books as I once was. I still read. Don't get me wrong. But I feel that I am no longer able to professionally review books without my personal attitude adjustment becoming involved! For example, I am now reading a book about a government in crisis... For me, the reality in America immediately comes to mind and I find my thoughts, my words, relate more to today's headlines rather than the story, no matter how much I'm enjoying it. Would the words reflect those words written by the author...or mine as I think about all the damage Trump has done and is still doing to our country.

Bear with me...at least I'm beginning to have the "itch" to review just after I've read a great book... Keep watching... Right now, I'm highlighting books I need to talk about for whatever reason. But not posting a formal review... 

In the meantime, God Blesses Our Words and Actions. Remember a Democracy Takes Moral Integrity. The Kind that Martin Luther King had and which were included in the words expressed today at The View...Commemorating One of America's Greatest Leaders!