Revelation Tin

christmas-cookie-tin-vintage-green-fruit-bells-nutcracker-wreath-on-gold-lid-8a91ef866b8eb3bbe6a19b6dd17f3778We waited in silence for the cab to arrive. Silence wasn’t a good thing in a motel like that. The noises from the rooms on either side didn’t leave much to the imagination. I tried hard not to put Janie’s face in one of those rooms. Although we’d waited no more than five minutes, it seemed like an eternity and when the cab finally arrived I fled. As I left the room I looked behind me. Larry was rumpling the bed covers. “we have to make it look like we slept here at least”

I shivered, “whatever!” The thought of sleeping in that bed gave me the creeps. “Where to?” the driver asked as Larry slid in the back seat beside me.”

“Stagecoach Salon, Franktown.” Larry replied.

The cab pulled out onto the main road. “Thats a long way man, you good for the money?” Larry reached over and waved a hundred dollar bill in the guys face. “That should cover it. Keep the change.”

The city lights disappeared in the rearview mirror and the soft darkness of Douglas County swallowed us. “I hope Jacks OK”

Larry was silent. I looked at him. “He will be OK won’t he?” I asked.

“I don’t know, he’s an old guy, may have had a heart attack.

It seemed to take an eternity to get to the bar, and when we arrived, it was in darkness. I looked at Larry, he pointed to a dark shape in the gloom by the fence. It was the van. “You sure you want to be dropped off here?” the cab driver said. “Looks like its closed.”

“Yea, we’re good, thanks man.”

We watched the cabs tail lights disappear in the distance. “OK, let’s go.” Larry said. We turned to the van and the lights came on, temporarily blinding me.

“Everyone OK,”Larry asked as we slid into the front seat.

“The old guy’s a bit shook up, but I think he’ll survive.”

“How about Janie?” I asked.

“She ran, don’t know where she went!”

“What, when?”

“When we got back here, she took off!”

Larry looked at me. “Great, we went through all of this for nothing.”

In two minutes we were at Jack’s house. He sat at the kitchen table, his face ashen. Larry’s three friends were drinking whiskey. Jack was drinking tea. I pulled a chair alongside him. “Jack are you alright?”

“Yes, I will be, got a weak heart, too much excitement for an old man.”

“You’re not that old!”

“I feel it!”

“Where’s Janie?” I asked, trying not to stress him any further.

“I’m here!”

She stood in the doorway, the passage light framing her slight figure. She held a bundle wrapped in a blanket. At first I thought she was carrying a child, my heart missed a beat. Jack made to get up, but I put my hand on his should and made him sit.

“Where’d you go?” he asked.

“Back to the barn, I wanted to grab this stuff before anyone else found it. Those guys came searching for me down here once. They might come back!”

She dropped the bundle on the floor, but held onto a small tin, the sort you got cookies in at Christmas. She placed it on the table in front of Jack. He looked up at her.

“Open it!”

Isn’t it Ironic!

The garage door closed slowly but I watched it go all the way down, still sitting in my car, headlights shining. I wanted to make sure nothing had followed me home.

The air in my house was alive with whispers.

Maybe I should go and grab dinner at the Stagecoach! It seemed like a great idea, but I’d still have to come home afterwards. The phone rang and I almost screamed. OK, pull yourself together!


Nothing, just static. “Hello, who’s there?”

“Its me, whats wrong? You sound on edge.” It was Les. I must have sounded bad because my husband lived in his little high-tech bubble and didn’t usually notice what was going on around him.

“Bad day at work.” I replied. “I’ll be OK after a glass of wine.” I didn’t want to tell him what was really wrong. We’d already been down that road.

“Well I hope I’m not going to make it worse. Looks like I’m not going to be home this weekend. Things aren’t going smoothly here and we can’t hand off the project Friday as planned. Its going to be next week instead.”

To be honest I wasn’t really listening. Although there was nothing to see, I knew I wasn’t alone.

“Hey, are you listening to me? There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Yea, I know, it never is.” I answered, not even thinking about the words that came out of my mouth. I don’t remember hanging up the phone, or how long I stood by the door. The phone rang again. What just happened?


It was Les again. “Do you want to fly out here for the weekend? I’d be working, but you could shop during the day and we could have dinner together.”

“A weekend in Columbus, Ohio in January doesn’t really appeal to me. I’ve got stuff to do at home, a weekend alone will help me take care of it.”

“What stuff?”

“Les, I have to go, I’ll call you back later.”

The air had become electric, literally, small sparks were igniting, lighting up the darkness.

“Show yourself! I know you’re here, just show yourself.”

I head musicWhere was it coming from.

“Isn’t it Ironic, like rain on your wedding day……”

Was it outside? I walked towards the patio door, but before I even reached it, it slid open. How could that be? It was locked. The music came from outside, maybe the Stagecoach? I only heard their music in the summer when live bands on the patio.

Maybe I will go for a drink after all. “Hey I’m leaving, want to come for a drink with me?” I shouted into the darkness.

The house remained silent!

Not my Guardian Angel.

I wasn’t sure if I were alive or dead. I saw shadows, dark shadows. I heard the sound of whispering, but didn’t recognize the voices. Then, for a while I saw nothing but darkness, it enveloped me. I knew I wasn’t in Hell because Hell would be hot and red. Suddenly I saw the light. Should I move towards it, or turn away from it? I’d seen so many movies, go to the light, but surely that would mean death. Run away from the light, but did that put me in Hell?

I felt pain in my chest, my body jolted, I heard a loud buzzing sound, pain, my body jolted again, and then I opened my eyes. I was in a brightly lit room. I was in hospital. Nurses bustled around me. “She’s awake, I think she’s going to make it.” a voice from above me said. I looked up into the shiny, perspiring black face of a nurse. “Stay with me now.” she said as she shone a light in my eyes.

Where am I likely to go? I thought as I looked at my legs, which were suspended by wires from the ceiling. I couldn’t move, I wanted to scream in pain, but I couldn’t open my mouth.

“Don’t be scared sugar.” The nurse said. “You’re gonna make it.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to. In the corner of the room was a shadow, a dark shadow with wings. The shadow didn’t have a face but I knew her.

“Her heart beat is steadying.” said the nurse. “I think she’s going to be okay. It’s been a rough couple of days, but I think she’ll make it.”

Couple of days? I thought. Its been a couple of days?

“Give her another shot of morphine.” It was a male voice this time. I couldn’t see where it came from, but I was thankful. I didn’t want feel anymore pain, but more than anything else, I didn’t want to see the black shadow crouching in the corner of the room. She may be and Angel, but I had a feeling she wasn’t my guardian, she wanted something from me. The room faded to darkness again.

Emergency Room

I live to write, and my short stories keep my brain and writing skills sharp. My first full length novel below is available on Amazon. If you find time to read it, please be so kind as to give me a review. I’d love to know what you think. A compilation of my short stories will be available later this year. In the meantime, I have my daughter’s wedding to plan. Thanks for stopping by. I hope you pass this way again to see what happens with the Dark Angel.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson


Three Ghosts – Alice Hobson

As I got ready for bed, thoughts of my parents were heavy on my mind. How they’d loved me, cared for me and tried to understand me. Their life had been so much different from mine. Their challenges were food rations and surviving the second world war. I was born in the late fifties. When I hit my teens there were different challenges to face, all involving temptation. Free Love, drugs, rock festivals, sounds selfish doesn’t it? My parents survived the second world war and I survived the free love and drug epidemic.


I’m sure my mum and dad never slept while I attended these events. A handful of my friends died from drug overdoses. Many jumped off bridges or from windows after taking LSD and imagining they could fly. Hey, I tried things, who didn’t, but luckily I don’t have an addictive personality. I could, quite easily say NO, and after a few experiments, I did.

I lay down in my bed, knowing I wasn’t going to sleep, so I picked up my iPad and began to read. I couldn’t concentrate. I was saw lights dancing and flickering on the wall outside my bedroom door. It looked like candle light. I was about to get out of bed and take a look when I heard a gentle voice. I closed my eyes and imagined the face of my Grandma. Wow, I hadn’t seen that face in over thirty years. I smiled, she was a character.

The Fell

“Remember when we walked across the fell from Butterknowle to Cockfield? We saw your granddad by beck, he died before you were born, but he still watches you. We both do.”

“Grandma, I’m in America now, how do you see me?”

“We’re always with you, and your mam. Don’t trouble yourself anymore about your past. It’s behind you and you survived. Your mam was no angel pet, and she knows it.”

“I can hear you.” It was my mum’s voice. I heard laughter too.

“Remember Gordon?” My grandma said.

“The boy I went to school with when we lived on the fell?” Laughter. “He was nasty, he used to torment me.”

“You soon fixed that Ethel. Shall I tell your daughter what you did?” More laughter. “Alright I will. Your mum grabbed a handful of his hair from the top of his head and spun him around like a top. Took most of the hair from the top of his head in the process.”

My mum joined in, “He squealed like a pig and ran all the way home. He never bothered me again though.”

“No, but I had his parents to deal with.”

I heard laughter from both my mum and my gran. It felt so good. Alice and Ethel together again. The came back to cheer me up.

The laughter faded and I knew they were gone. I wondered if they had come to take me with them. but I slept well that night with a smile on my face, and woke up the next morning ready to meet whatever life threw at me. I knew I was never alone, my family may have faded into the background, but they still watched over me. They’re probably behind me right now, reading this and laughing. I hope so!

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson







Three Ghosts – Part Two – My Second Visitor


I sat down in my quiet home, feeling a little more calm, but melancholy. Families fade away so quickly. I was used to being along. My husband travelled with work, but I’d had a bad day. My daughter busy with her own life , so I sipped my wine and gazed out of the window, watching the orange sun slide behind the mountains.

A noise I hadn’t heard in a long time broke the silence. It was the sound of a cigarette lighter, followed by the smell of smoke, not just any old smoke, but the smoke that came from strong unfiltered ‘Players Navy Cut’, my dads favorite brand of cigarettes. I smiled. “You know you shouldn’t be smoking it the house,” I said, talking to a man who’d been dead for over twenty years.

“Don’t tell your mum!” Players Navy Cut

I laughed out loud, now I was losing my mind!


“I hear you’re having a bit of bother at work. Do you remember when I sorted your boss out. You were working at the Angel Hotel in Catterick Village? He was a nasty piece of work he was. I put him in his place didn’t I?”

“Yes dad you certainly did.” Could I see smoke rings hovering above the arm-chair? I loved it when my dad blew smoke rings.

“Who upset you this time? Do you want me to handle him for you?”

I laughed hard and loud at the thought of my dad walking into the Law Firm  where I worked and taking on my boss.

“Dad, you don’t need to do that.” I couldn’t see my dad, he wasn’t there, but I could feel his smile and I felt loved. “Well if you’re sure.” he said ” I don’t want anyone being mean to my little girl. If you want me to give him ‘what for’ I will.”

He continued to talk, but his voice faded away, as though someone had turned the volume down. The smell of smoke faded with him. “Bye dad, I think my mum’s waiting for you, I love you.”

I head my mum’s voice again. “Wilf, tea’s ready.” she said.

The house became silent, I was alone again, but not for long.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson






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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.



I may BITE you!

After a long exhausting day at work, I was eager to get home and relax with a glass of wine, but first I had to stop at the supermarket. I pushed my cart up and down the aisles as quickly as I could, grabbing the necessities as I did so. At the end of the second aisle, I almost ran into a young (or maybe not so young) woman. She blocked my path. I tried to manoeuvre my cart around her, but it wasn’t so easy. “Hi, what do you think of my lipstick?” she asked.


“My lipstick, what do you think of it?”

I looked at her lips, which were smeared with badly applied deep red lipstick, making her look  like the Joker from a Batman movie. Do I tell her the truth I thought, or do I lie? “Its a very flattering color.” I said, eager to get away. “Oh, I’m glad you like it, its called ‘plush plum’. I sell it, would you like me to order some for you?”

“No thanks,” I said as I pushed my way past her and continued to shop.

“I have blush to match, and nail polish.” Unbelievable, she was following me. I quickened my pace and headed to the check out, even though my shopping wasn’t finished. I just wanted to be away from this woman who seemed hell-bent on selling me cheap make-up.

After paying for my groceries, I ran to my car.

“Wait, wait, would you like a sample?”

Dear god, she had followed me from the store. I opened the trunk and hurriedly put my shopping away. Sensing her presence, I looked up, she was ten feet away from me and closing in. She stood still when she saw me looking at her, and posed like a model, a very grotesque model. At over six feet tall with a manly frame (maybe she was a he) she/it made me feel tiny and vulnerable. Her pants were the color of her lipstick, and much too tight, but at least she was well-coordinated. Her lipstick was smudged even worse now. Her eye make-up was dark and her face too white for the heavily applied ‘plush pink’ blush. The tiny white sweater she wore had a plunging neckline, from which her ample bust attempted to escape. She smiled at me, a smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you.” she said looking at the fear on my face. I won’t harm you, but if you don’t buy my ‘plush plum’ lipstick…………….



RIP Heath Ledger

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