Rome in the Dark – A Cold Angel

I walked through the dark cobbled streets of Rome. It was three in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take the opportunity to photograph Rome at night, free of tourists. It was mid-week and everyone was in bed. There was a Spring chill in the air and I was thankful for my fleece. Sitting on a bench by the Trevi Fountain, I reviewed my work. The Trevi Fountain is magical at night. I took a few moments to inhale its beauty.

fount_trevi_night_lg“I’m cold”

I was startled by a soft voice close by. I looked up to see a young girl sitting on the wall by the water.

“You startled me, what are you doing here all alone?”

“There was a fire alarm in my hotel and we had to leave.”

“Where are your parents?”

“They’re looking for me. I heard them call my name, but I couldn’t see them. There was smoke.”

“Lets go and find them.” I said and held out my hand. She took it and walked with me. Her fingers were icy. Taking off my fleece, I wrapped it around her shoulders as she led me down an alley and into another piazza, one I hadn’t visited before. We turned onto a small dark street. It was desolate and deserted.

I heard the whisper of a womans voice. “Lisa, Lisa, where are you?”

“Listen, I hear someone. Is your name Lisa?” I asked.

Standing still, I listened, but the voice never came again. The street was badly lit and I proceeded with care until I came to the ruins of a building. The blackened walls told me it had been destroyed by fire. Shadows moved ominously inside. The doorway was gone, but the steps that once led to the entrance were tiled and the top step read “Hotel Delphi”

“Lisssssaaaaaaaa.” The very building seemed to whisper now.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your hotel,” I said to no one. The young girl whose hand I’d been holding was gone.

Now I was cold, very cold. I looked around, but there was no sign of the little girl, or my fleece. I hurried back to my hotel, confused and a little scared. Had the darkened streets of Rome sparked my imagination to see things that weren’t there?

Rome at night

The following day, after breakfast I returned to the Trevi Fountain which was now bustling with tourists, all eager to have their photograph taken near the beautiful landmark. I wanted to tell them how much better it looked at three in the morning. I shivered as I remembered the cold young girl, and retraced my steps to the darkened alleyway and condemned hotel.

I found the remains of Hotel Delphi. In the daylight the damage was clear to see. It had burned long ago and was nothing more than a shell. An old man approached, a sad smile on his face. He began talking to me in Italian.

“I’m English.” I said, smiling apologetically.

“Thirty years I work there, concierge. My life was there. Twenty people die in the fire.” he said in broken English.

“Oh, I’m sorry that’s awful. How long ago was the fire?”

“Five years to the day. The owners die, and no one has money to rebuild.” He walked away, shaking his head sadly.

I stared at the remains of the building. Something caught my eye. It was my red fleece wrapped around a blackened statue. The statue of an angel.

“Lisa, Lisssssaaaaa.” The sad voice carried on the wind.

I shivered and walked away.


Dead of July, (Kindle edition) is available for $0.99 until 8am (Pacific time) Monday May 12th.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson




BOOK SALE – $0.99

From Friday May 9th at 8 am to Monday May 12th at 8am (Pacific Standard Time) get your copy (e-book) of Dead of July for $0.99.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

I began to drive through the camp gates, checking traffic as I did so when I heard a loud bang on the front of the car. I immediately slammed on the brakes worried I had hit someone. A man appeared in front of me as though from thin air. Where had he come from? Standing in the middle of the road, he stared menacingly at me, blocking my way. What did he want? When I heard the second bang, I realized it was the sound of this man thumping his fist on the bonnet of Sonia’s car. He stood motionless and stared into my eyes, challenging me. I stared back at him, not liking what I saw. He looked very angry and slightly insane. Was this the man I saw in the cafeteria? It certainly looked like him. I wanted to get out of the car and yell at him, but thought the better of it. He looked dangerous.

He threw his head back and laughed before focusing on me again. “You are mine now,” he said. His thick, well-groomed mustache didn’t cover the snarling lips beneath it. He laughed again. Could this also be the man I saw lurking in the shadows? I immediately locked the car door, but was unable to wind up the window before his face appeared beside me, his disgusting odor seeping into my space. I was too terrified to move. His arm shot through the car window and grabbed my neck.


My story told my way!

I couldn’t hold back the tears as I listened to Anna’s story. Memories of what my mother endured came flooding back. I found it hard to understand why Anna hadn’t tried to escape again while he slept. I didn’t want to judge her because I could see she was a mental and emotional wreck. Anna was only fifteen when her parents were tragically killed. This man had won her trust when she was weak and vulnerable and then had taken away her spirit. The fact that she’d survived at all surprised me.


Trying to fit my book into a genre is hard. Is it horror? Not really!

Is it an adventure story? A little bit. It’s me. Sheila, the main character is me. It’s a story about my life.

Did I really see dead people? Yes, and I still do.

Will I ever write a story about someone else? Yes, some day, but right now I have my story to tell. The one I lived.

Did I have premonitions? Yes, and I still have way too many.

Dead of July is still available on Amazon, give it a try! I enjoyed writing it and I still enjoy reading it. It’s the story of me and the ghosts in my life.

Pay it Forward – Just for fun!

Pay it ForwardI decided to get my car cleaned on the way home tonight. Winter had left its mark and my car needed a valet’s touch, not just a drive through the car wash. When I opened the trunk I’d forgotten I had a bag containing fifty copies of ‘Dead of July’ in there. Oops! I took them out and struggled to carry them as I made my way to the cashier.

“Oh goodness me,” she said as she saw me struggling with my briefcase, handbag, and huge bag of books “Have you been shopping? What a big bag.”

“No it’s books, I’d forgotten they were in the back of the car.

As I struggled to pull out my wallet, a friendly young gentleman came running to my aid. “Here ma’am, let me carry that for  you.”

“Oh no, it’s OK.” I said.

“I insist.” he said as he picked up the bag and effortlessly put it on his shoulder.

I paid for my car wash and turned to take the bag from the colorful, friendly young man.

“Where do you want it?” he asked

“Well I was going to sit over there and wait for my car, ” I replied, pointing to a chair in the sun.

He carried the bag for me, chatting as he did so.

“Do you enjoy to read?” I asked him. “Yes I do.” He replied. With that I took one of my books out and gave it to him. “It’s a paranormal fiction, I wrote it myself.” I told him as I handed it to him. His eyes lit up, he was delighted, which made me happy. “Thank you” he said and leafed through the pages as he walked across to his big garbage truck, which was parked at the other side of the forecourt. I pulled out my iPad and began to read.

“Do you mind if I do the fan thing and get you to sign this for me?” said a voice close by. The friendly chap was back, pen in hand.

I smiled. “Whats your name?” I asked.

“It’s Troy.” he told me.

To Troy, enjoy! I wrote before signing my name.

“Oh thanks so much, you may be a billionaire one day, and I’ll have a first copy of your book.”

I laughed openly at his obvious joy. He’d made my day better, and in return, I’d made his better too.



The ‘haunted’ Morello House

Morello house

Morello Car CrashI began reading about the Morello House on-line in the Philippine Star. The story is being turned into a movie. Of course I immediately became fascinated because ghosts and the supernatural always do that to me. They terrify me and fascinate me. I decided to share this story and the photo’s (courtesy of Below is a brief summary of the house and its terrors.

A recent real estate listing describes a beautiful and secluded house that has languished on the market for decades. What the listing does not describe, however, is the supposed curse on the house – and the gruesome deaths that wiped out an entire family there nearly 30 years ago.

The house on 14 Woodlands Drive was once valued at over a million dollars and has since gone down to less than a quarter of that. The drop in price is no mystery to the locals. Because at least four people died in that house — an entire family, wiped out.

After her three children and her husband died, Angela Morello lived alone in the mansion for just a few years. I can only imagine the loneliness and the grief that filled those rooms and hallways — rooms and hallways once filled with light and the promise of a successful future.

An article in the local paper came out soon after Angela left the house and put it up for sale. A sense of doom seems to bother just about anyone with an opinion. Even a realtor in the area was quoted as saying, “More likely than not, no one will ever live here again.”

Over the decades, the Morello house has loomed darker and darker, as a source of mystery, fear, and death. It is exactly the kind of house that is an example of an “attractor” — a likely place to be haunted. I am building a case study around the Morello house, to examine the reality of the “Morello Curse,” the likelihood that it is haunted, and the possibility that there are more gruesome crimes hidden there than have been reported.

To read my humble ghost story, click on the link below.


FIFA World Cup – An Anniversary for me!

I celebrate the FIFA World Cup every year as though it were an Anniversary. It brings such happy memories. I watched it with my stepdad when I was young, my husband, when I was a young bride and my daughter when she was a child. This year is particularly special because my daughter gets married. Another reason to celebrate.

Below is a snip from my book – Dead of July – which is set in 1982, the year I celebrated the FIFA World Cup in Germany. It was a very good year.

The beer soon arrived and the first glass slid down my parched throat without even touching the sides so I quickly ordered another. The local draught beer, which came in a tiny glass, was strong and full of flavor. I drank the second a little more slowly savoring its delicious hoppy taste. Heaven! I could see that the television inside the bar was tuned to a sports channel and the broadcasters were talking about the upcoming FIFA World Cup matches. World Cup fever was rampant throughout Europe and South America. It was infectious. The German team looked like strong contenders to win the coveted trophy and more often than I care to mention, I heard “the Germans are going to vin of course.

The 1982 FIFA World Cup

The 1982 FIFA World Cup

Although I was British, I was rooting for the Italians to win the tournament. The Italian team was exciting to watch. The games were full of drama and passion, their players unpredictable and exciting (and very handsome)! As long as I can remember I’ve been a fan of anything Italian, including football, or soccer as the Americans liked to call it. I’d watched World Cup football for as long as I can remember, even in the days of black and white TV, back when England actually managed to win. That was a long time ago, 1966 if I remember rightly, when the beat West Germany 4 – 2.


Time to Celebrate!


So happy to have recieved another great review on my first novel ‘Dead of July’. It may never make me rich or famous, but writing and publishing it made me happy. I achieved my ambition and became an author. 

5.0 out of 5 stars Great read!, March 22, 2014
By Amazon Customer – See all my reviews
This review is from: Dead of July (Paperback)

The book introduces you to its protagonist, Sheila. Sheila has a special gift – she can see and talk to ghosts… We meet her in 1982, living and working in Dortmund with her husband, Les. Everything is pretty normal – until she meets a very young and desperate young woman. Anna is terrified by the man she lives with. Sheila immediately wants to rescue her. Suddenly, everything is different. Her home is haunted, and even at work she cannot go ahead in peace as usual. I will not tell you more about the story than shown in the Amazon plot description. This would spoil the fun of reading this book yourself.

With Dead of July, Sandra Thompson shows us Germany and a typical German base of the British Army. Each character is cleverly portrayed, the reader can relate. Some situations made me roar with laughter, other situations made me want to comfort Sheila. I had a great time reading Dead of July.


Bite me? Is that really what she said. The woman’s face changed before my eyes. Her ‘plush plum’ lipstick disappeared, sinking into her cracked lips. Was her skin decayed in front of my eyes? As crazy as it seems, I slapped myself across the face. I was dreaming, I must be. The slap didn’t wake me up, and my new crazy friend with the ‘plush plum’ make-up and matching jeans took a step closer. As she did so something fell to the ground. I looked down. It was a clump of hair with a little bit of scalp attached. I didn’t want to see anymore. I yanked the car door open started the engine as I locked myself in. Throwing the car into reverse, I hit the gas, but not before her terrifying face appeared at the passenger side window. “My name is Rachel, I’ll be seeing you.” she said. God, I hope not, I thought. Her face stamped itself in my memory. She looked sad, but worse than that, she looked hungry.

100104152-walking-dead-zombie-female-face.160x105This can’t really be happening, I told myself as I reversed out of my parking space. Had I stumbled onto the film set of ‘The Walking Dead’, but a version where the zombies talked. Or was this a flash back from  my mis-spent youth? My brother always told me it would catch up with me. I looked in my rearview mirror as I sped away. Rachel stood in the middle of the parking space I had just vacated. She waved at me, a horrific smile on her face. Two fingers crumbled and fell from her right hand as she waved. I looked away, not wanting to see anymore.

Pulling onto the highway, I drove home as quickly as I could without getting stopped for speeding, not that there was anyone to stop me, the roads were deserted. That seemed odd as it was early evening, and usually busy with people driving home from work. I reversed my red Audi into the garage, making it easy for a quick get-away if needed. I always parked this way, thinking I may need to escape from an intruder. When you live alone, it becomes a habit.  Tonight, it was more important than ever. I felt something may happen, and I wanted to be prepared.


Click here to read reviews or buy a copy of my novel.


shildon redworth road & inst m&lWhen the door slammed behind my dad, my mum breathed a sigh of relief. I stood helplessly looking at her as she lay on the floor. My dad always felt like a stranger, but I loved my mum and she was hurting. She smiled weakly up at me “I’m just catching my breath, it’s going to be alright, don’t worry.”

A four-year old shouldn’t worry, but I did. I was scared my dad would come back.

“Go grab my handbag Sheila, it’s on the table.” I did as I was told. When I brought it back to her she had pushed herself into a sitting position, clearly in pain. I was happy to see there was no blood. Slowly, using the wall for support, my mum stood up, wincing in pain as she did so. With a determined look on her face, she held out her hand and said “Come on pet, let’s go.”

I took her hand and we walked out of the front door for the last time.

“Where are we going?” I asked

“Redworth Road,” she said “I have to do Mrs. Mangles hair, she’ll be expecting me.”

It was a long walk to Redworth Road. My mum clasped my hand tightly, but spoke only to answer my repeated question of”Are you alright mum.?”

“Yes pet.” she would reply, but I knew she was hurting. I crossed the fingers on my free hand and hoped my dad would NEVER hurt my mum again.

Three years later, when my nasty violent father was nothing but a bad memory, I attracted a guardian angel. She appeared to me for years, helping me when I most needed it. If only my mum had a guardian angel back then, or maybe she did!  She escaped with her life after alll. Currently I am editing a short story called ‘Girl on the Beach’ which tells you when my angel first appeared. 

My first novel ‘Dead of July’ is available by clicking on the book cover  below. This story is set in the eighties and is about a young British Army wife and the trouble she got into in Dortmund Germany, where she tangled with both the living and the dead. With the help of her Guardian Angel, she lived to tell the tale. 


Format:Kindle Edition|Amazon Verified Purchase
I liked this book a lot. The mixture of supernatural with real-life danger was very well done. I’ll be looking for more books from this author.
By Leslie
Format:Kindle Edition
A fun, fiesty heroine, creepy criminals, and an even creepier paranormal twist make this book unique. It’s a fun read, partly because it takes place in Germany in the 80s and it’s interesting to learn about that time period. But mainly because it’s got so many twists and turns that you never see coming.

Sheila is a British woman in Germany who does a good deed for a stranger in trouble, and before you can say “haunted,” she’s in all kinds of unexpected trouble herself from enemies alive and . . . not so alive.

I don’t want to spoil any of the fun, all I can say is you’ll never react to the smell of cigarettes in quite the same way again!

If you read my book, please leave me a review on Amazon, they mean the world to a new writer. Thanks for stopping by.