When my writer friends I went to Scotland, we spent the week in a cottage that was charming, and haunted.
Not all of us heard or saw the ghost. Two did. We thought they were whacky. After all, the group as a whole makes up stuff for a living. Why wouldn’t two of us be guilty of creating ghosts?
Actually, it turns out there was a ghost in our quaint cottage. The owner told he is reputed to be a traveling salesman who got fresh with the ladies of the house. When their men caught him, they killed him and buried him where the dining room is today.
Nor were we the first to hear the poor salesman’s banging around in the night. He seems to enjoy visitors–and did we have visitors for him! Our party included: Kerrelyn Sparks, no stranger to ghouls since she pens shape shifters and vamps: Lorraine Heath sticks to people this side of the grave; Bonnie Tucker who is known for looking at the humorous side of love (she heard our ghost ); Denise Coyle, a woman of science assured us there is always a reasonable explanation, Elizabeth Essex, another woman of science but one who loves a good tale; and
Deborah Barnhart who understands the Tarot as well as accepts that things aren’t always as they seem.
By the way, in case you are wondering, today’s Scotland does celebrate Halloween but this is a recent development. Before they were always big on the bonfires of Guy Fawkes Night. Of course, fires are a challenge and local laws changed many of the customs.
