How to Read Auras

Describe someone you know to yourself. It doesn’t have to be a friend or someone you’re close to. It doesn’t even have to be someone you like. Just make the description as detailed as possible. Close your eyes if it helps, and once you feel you have a grasp on that person, go to the next paragraph.

What stood out the most about this person to you? Was it a physical feature? How the person dresses? Or was your description based on how that person makes you feel?

All too often, we judge people because of how they look. How they dress. And the list goes on. Sometimes that breeds a bias or even a prejudice that helps shape our perception of that person. To be able to read an aura, you have to cleanse yourself of that mindset.

I sometimes hear people describe others to me, and even if they like that person they may make a not-so-nice comment about their looks. That alone can hinder one’s ability. It’s all to easy to make assumptions on people, but to see what and who a person truly is, you have to look at someone from the inside.

While I don’t read auras per se, and while I don’t consider myself psychic, I think it’s safe to say I have a deep intuition on people. I can meet someone and tell if they’re going to be my best friend or worst enemy (which is a hyperbole, of course), even if they’re kind to me. Most times, I’m proven right on my instinct because of how they treat the people around them, for better or worse. I never treat them any differently because for all I know, that intuition could be wrong so I try to treat everyone as if they are a friend. The only thing that hinders me is that I want to believe everyone is good, and sometimes when someone has a dark side (which we all have, but I’m talking about the kind of dark side that overshadows the good) I can’t see it. I can feel it sometimes, and I disregard that negative feeling until I have something to go on. I normally don’t hold things against people so it takes a lot for me to say whether I found a reading to be right or not. And there are times when I can’t shake a bad feeling that lingers around a person.

But notice how I said everyone has a dark side. For most of us, it doesn’t obliterate the goodness inside. We’ve all made mistakes, and we have to forgive ourselves for our “shortcomings” and put forth that same understanding in order to accept others as they are. It’s really about putting yourself in another’s shoes, because without that, we wouldn’t be able to let grudges go, and we wouldn’t be able to have that understanding and compassion that we’re all human. Some of us hold things against others that has nothing to do with us. There is a tendency to reject those who get into drugs or alcohol, or just don’t live as “we” see “fit.” And note that there’s a difference between someone who has gotten wrapped up in something bad but is a genuinely good person, compared to people who are just—as much as I hate to say it and as rare as I find it to be—evil. Evil people, to me, have a sort of “CAUTION” label on them that you can’t see, but you can definitely feel it. It’s like a “Proceed No Further” sign, and those are the people I generally try to avoid if possible.

Then there are the negative people. They just make you feel like you don’t have a voice because every time you have something good to say about someone or something, they say something negative about it. It’s not that they’re mean or doing it intentionally (in most cases anyway). They just can’t help themselves. This energy can be felt because every time you think something is good, they knock you right down. We may not think of this as an “aura,” but think of it as energy. It’s like a battery being drained. You may not be able to see it, but you can sense the shift in your emotion. Sometimes even just being around that person can make you feel blah.

On the flip side, there are the positive people. Those are the people that may have something going on in their lives that you wouldn’t know about, but if you look on a deeper level, you might be able to sense it. Even though they may be going through something, they make you feel good just being around them, but something might feel a little “off.” You know when someone acts a little out of character and you can tell that? This is similar, except they may not act any different at all, but you just know something is wrong.

Just a couple instances. I knew someone who was a mutual friend that I’d just met one time, and after swallowing my labret ring I was desperate to get in touch with a nurse. I called my friend and asked if So&So was a nurse and sure enough, she was. I just “felt” it. Then I proceeded to ask if I was going to die for swallowing my labret ring.

The most recent one was just a few days ago. I knew this person and I still don’t know her name, but I felt good around her. I thought how great she would be at giving seminars just because she had that kind of vibe about her. I thought about how she would be able to change people’s lives just because in those brief moments when I’m near her, I feel good. Turns out, she’s a motivational speaker, amongst other things.

Something that has always bothered me is that there are people who are good, but their chemistry doesn’t connect quite right. It’s like trying to jam a puzzle piece where it doesn’t belong. That puzzle piece has its place and purpose, and without it, the whole picture won’t come together. It’s every bit as important as any other piece, but it can just make you feel fried. Maybe those people need a little patience in order to relate to them. And learning how to relate to a person who is just off-centre with your own energy is sometimes all it takes. And sometimes it just seems impossible. In those cases it’s hard because you see the good in them and like them as a person, but they might be difficult to be around just because you don’t mesh well.

In most instances we tend to take what people say as truth. When they say they’re okay, or talk about how much they do for others, it’s easy to believe them. Sometimes it’s easy to sympathise, especially when they give a sad story and sometimes you think they’re these great and wonderful Super People because, well, they pretty much tell you they are. But, people sometimes don’t say what they feel, and sometimes people stretch the truth. And some can tell such convincing stories, but when you’re in tune with people as individuals, it makes it easier to tell if they really is the kind of person they claim to be, or if those claims are fruitless. And it can also give a little insight as to whether they’re just saying everything is fine when it’s really not because they don’t want you to worry.

I can sometimes feel when someone’s going through a bad time, even friends that I only know on Facebook. I want so badly to tell them it’s going to be OK before they even bring it up, but I don’t know how well those messages would be received. It’s a bit like infringing upon someone’s privacy, and sometimes I don’t know if respecting their boundaries or telling them what I’m feeling is the best option. Usually it varies from person to person, as well as what kind of mood he or she is in, and I try to go by that. But more often than not, I wait for them to say something because I feel like I would be overstepping a personal boundary. However, when you get a sad vibe from someone and they don’t bring it up, you can still give them a little lift to their spirits without even bringing up your concern for them. There are ways to let people know that there is someone out there who is listening, and who cares.

So try it again. Close your eyes and envision the same person you thought of before. Focus on how they make you feel when you’re around them. Pay attention to what kind of person they are and what kind of image they project. Practice on looking at people as people and cast appearance to the side. It makes it a lot easier once we get past all that. And if you pay close attention to the people you know, you can even read people you’ve just met.

There are two things to remember: First of all, never hold your intuition against someone, because it may be inaccurate, and secondly, there is no room for stereotypes. It’s perfectly fine to be cautious of someone if they give you that vibe, or to automatically like someone. But remember that you may find yourself telling someone your deepest secrets because you “feel” you can trust them, or you might find yourself talking badly about someone that you get a negative feeling from. You may be right about that person, but it may be that the negative feeling was that sort of “puzzle piece” thing I talked about earlier. And trusting someone too much may also be that human desire to believe everyone is good.

For years I have tried to hone those skills, and I often read people just to see how accurate I am. I’ve actually been quite surprised at how on-the-money I have been, and the same goes for those little gut instincts that I keep to myself when I meet someone for the first time. If they’re around enough, I’m able to put it all to the test.

Even so, it’s important to keep that sense of balance when you read someone so that you won’t base a relationship completely on a reading, same as you wouldn’t want to base it on a stereotype. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved, including yourself.

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Another Time, Another Place – HORROR

This is another short story that I am considering featuring in the anthology, but I would love to have some feedback. Please spread it around and post, comment, repost and reblog please. And thank you in advance for the support. It is a rough draft so please don’t be too harsh about grammatical or punctuation errors, but also please don’t hesitate to draw my attention to it.

Another Time, Another Place

“Dammit, Grayson! I trusted you!” Nomie screamed, throwing his phone across the room in a fit of rage after he screamed at her for invading his privacy when she insisted upon looking through his texts. It hit the wall and she hoped she’d broken it to smithereens. She wanted to throw the computer across the room after she’d found his email open but was hoping to have a civilized talk about it first.

“It’s not what you think! Tony has been the one talking to all those girls! I don’t know why you’re going through all my stuff, anyway. I have nothing to hide!”

“Using your email? Really? And how dare you accuse me of not trusting you; I did until I saw those messages, and it’s not like I deliberately went on the computer to look at your stuff! I’ve never questioned you about your privacy before, but if you have nothing to hide then why did you make such a big deal about it when I asked for your phone PIN? How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t!” Grayson protested. “I don’t think you’re stupid. If Tony’s wife would have found out she would have freaked! That’s why I gave him my email info so he can use it from his house.”

Nomie’s world spun and as he spoke, she started to believe his words. He was so warm, so convincing. She knew that he would never hurt her. But that night as he held her in bed, something inside her kept her awake as he held her. She cried silently to herself as he snored in a deep sleep, cutting through her eardrums.

She wriggled out of his tight grip and went to the bathroom to wipe her face. How could he do something like that to her? He wouldn’t. She knew that in her heart. It was stupid of her to read his emails even if he’d left it open. He was right when he accused her of not trusting him after she questioned him about cheating. She looked in the mirror at her puffy-eyed reflection and scolded herself for being so silly. Then she slipped back into bed to a troubled night of sleep.

The next day while Grayson was at work, Nomie tried to forget it all but she just couldn’t focus. She sat at the computer to get some work done for her boss, the invoices she had planned to have done the day before when she ran across the email that stared her in the face, telling Tony, or Grayson, as she didn’t know what to believe, how good he was in bed. But she didn’t get past typing the date. May 10, 2015. She started crying, remembering what she’d found the morning before. She remembered that the phone had hit the wall but wasn’t sure about the damage yet. She went to where it had hit but it was gone, so she walked into the kitchen to grab a soda and found the phone on the kitchen counter. It was banged up pretty good and didn’t seem to work. Curious, she tried to turn it on—Nothing. He probably left it knowing it was a goner. Or was it?

She plugged it into the charger and turned it on. There were signs of life in it! He’d never given her the passcode but she tried the PIN from their mutual bank account. It worked, but she wished it hadn’t. The text messages and voicemails she found were heartbreaking. She recognized a few of the girls’ names from his email account, and she knew from what was said that the messages were not intended for Tony as he’d claimed, but had to be for Grayson. The last one she read before breaking down was sent ten minutes ago. “Where r u? R we still on for lunch today?” It was from some girl named Chrissy, the girl he talked to most.

In a midst of a panic attack the size of Texas, Nomie slunk to the kitchen floor and sobbed uncontrollably, saying an unintelligible prayer that it would all go away and that things would be different. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know about these things, but she wished he’d never betrayed her trust. She knew she had to leave him, but how could she? She hadn’t heard his side, so maybe there was an explanation like with the emails. And maybe he’d die in a horrible accident on the way home and she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. She felt guilt at her hope for his demise.

A cold wind whooshed by her, but she was too busy to truly notice. A few minutes later, she felt a presence. There was a thing standing in her kitchen that looked like a shadow that had been burnt to a crisp, but there was something sympathetic in its blue eyes as it looked upon her. She felt a calm about this entity, as if he, or she or it, was going to make everything okay.

“I know what happened, you poor thing. And I can make it all go away.”

She was desperate but cautious as she stared at it for a moment, trying to take it all in. Maybe it was just a hallucination. “How?” she asked, drawing the word out with skeptical reservation.

“He betrayed you. I can take you back to another time, another place, before the betrayal began. I can make it so that it never happened.”

“You can take us back to before all of this even started?”

“Yes,” said the crispy creature. “But in exchange, you have to give me your soul. Fair deal?”

“What does that mean?” she asked hesitantly.

“It means you can have happiness with your beloved once again while you’re both here on Earth, but your soul will be mine for Eternity.”

Without putting any thought into anything else that the Shadow-Thing said except for “happiness with your beloved once again,” she sniffled and whispered a feeble, “Fair enough.”

“And one more thing. You won’t remember anything that happened these last few days. I wouldn’t want that interfering with your happiness. I’ll take you back to a time before the affairs began.”

“When was that?”

“Chrissy was the first. He started a friendship with her on February the fifteenth of 2013. Do you remember the day before? He took you out to a nice Valentine’s Day dinner. He even went into work earlier than he had to because he couldn’t bear being home without you. That morning, they both stopped in to get a cup of coffee at the convenience store and stood in line together. Every day after that, Chrissy stopped at the store hoping to catch him and even waited until she saw his car before she’d set foot in the store. It was around March that he started falling for her and took her up on a lunch date, and when he got away with seeing her, he started seeing the others. But I’m sure I’ve already told you more than you can handle in your delicate state. I can change all that; I can make it so that they never even cross paths.”

“That bastard!” Nomie screamed. She thought of how she and Grayson had a nice dinner and went home early since they both had to work the next day, but they made up for the early-night-in in bed. Afterwards, he spooned her and gave her small kisses along her shoulder, caressing her body gently with his fingertips as he whispered sweet words in her ear. “I love you, baby. I hope I made your Valentine’s Day as good as you’ve made mine,” he said as she drifted to sleep, still feeling his loving touch on her skin. It was so perfect. “And I’ll forget all of this?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, desperate for relief from the pain in her mind, heart and body. “Yes.”

Suddenly everything went black. She woke up on February the Fourteenth, 2013. It was the same as it was two years ago, but she didn’t remember it. She had a sense of deja vu all day but couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. But she ignored it. She was just excited to get home from work after he’d sent her a text about how he had a special surprise for her.

That night she went to bed feeling the most love for him she’d ever known for anyone. From the Five-Star restaurant to the sex, everything was perfect as she curled up in his arms and fell asleep in a state of euphoric bliss under his touch.

The next morning she still felt that sense of deja vu, but was still high from the magic of the night before to think much of it. He sat on the bed buttoning his shirt with a sly smile, He motioned to her with a “come here” gesture and pulled her in, giving her a long, seductive kiss. “Too much of that and both of us will be late to work. If we make it in at all,” he laughed. “That would be fine by me,” she said, wishing she could just lay in bed with him all day. Then she looked at her watch. “Well I’d better get going, I think I’m going to be cutting it a bit short here.”

“All right, baby. I still have forty-five minutes, maybe an hour before I have to leave. Gonna be lonely here without you.” He gave her a sad puppy dog look and she smiled. Then he pulled her in for one final kiss before she left the room. He heard some noise from the kitchen before the front door closed and her car started up. He felt so much more love from him than ever, but couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was last night’s escapade. And he also had a strange sense of deja vu.

He was going to leave early because the night before was so wonderful with Nomie that he was missing her like crazy, but something told him not to. It was a nagging feeling in his gut that if he left early, things wouldn’t pan out the way that Fate, or possibly some other Entity, had designed it to. Instead, he passed time by sending out a few emails. He didn’t realize that he’d let time slip away and then he headed out the door, knowing he would have to speed a little to get to work in time.

It was around 9:51 on the morning of February 15th that Nomie received the call that Grayson had been in a terrible accident. “Is he okay?” she asked with her heart pounding.

The officer on the other line hesitated before saying, “I’m sorry; Grayson didn’t make it.” He didn’t want to tell her that not only had his car been T-boned by a big rig, but it had pretty much crushed Grayson’s car with him in it. He had briefly rehearsed the right words to say to her before calling, but in a situation like this, he found it difficult.

A guy from the cleanup crew yelled, “We got another chunk of him over here!” as the officer grimaced at the lack of couth, hoping his voice hadn’t carried over the phone.

As the officer explained what had happened, Nomie crumpled to the floor, screaming as her co-workers ran to her to see what was wrong. her boss drove her home, promising that he would look after her car and told her to keep in touch and take a little time off if she needed to.

Grayson’s family was notified by police, which she was grateful for since she barely had the strength to relay it to her mother without choking up. Her mother called the rest of the family and ten minutes later showed up at her doorstep.

Nomie was quiet and could barely eat. She went into the corner of the living room where the computer was and noticed that Grayson hadn’t turned his computer off. Desperate to know what some of his last thoughts were, she sifted through his “sent” folder. Every message she came across mentioned her in some way, but the very last one was to his brother who was having girl troubles.

“If you ever find a girl like Nomie, don’t let her go. I hope someday you’re as lucky as I am.”

The tears began to flow in a neverending torrent. He was the most loving, caring, faithful and loyal husband any woman could ask for.


Pimped to Satan

Have you gotten your copy yet, or can you handle it?

Pimped to Satan by Joslyn Corvis, available on Barnes&Noble.com

pimped to satan

If you love horror, you shouldn’t be without this book!


The Haunted Hummel by Joslyn Corvis

My dad was always telling me about this music box that, every now and again, would go off all by itself.  It wasn’t a real Hummel, but an imitation that to the untrained eye looked quite similar to the real deal.  Yeah, right. Suuuuuuure, I thought to myself.  I knew of the music box.  It was one my mom had for years and years.  If it was going off all on its own, why didn’t I ever hear it?  Even in the middle of the night when I was sound asleep, why didn’t the thing ever wake me up?

One day he was talking about it, and curiosity got the better of me.  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in this stuff.  We’ve had all sorts of weird and unexplainable things happen here.  For instance, one day as my parents were sitting at the kitchen table, a magnet flew from the fridge and landed right in front of them, and there’s no logic as to how the thing could have achieved such an angle and such a distance without any help.  And one time my brother (who would probably say he was making a sandwich at the time), along with my dad, saw me flash by them.  But it wasn’t me.  Anyway, I guess I just wondered why I had never experienced anything with the Hummel, and maybe I felt a bit left out.

While my dad was at work one day, I went to their room, picked up the music box, and I wound it up.  I wound it pretty good, but the gears inside (which you could see when you held the hinged lid up) didn’t move.  Okay, the stupid thing is broken.  The gears weren’t moving.  It must have been some other sound he was hearing.  I don’t know, maybe the Ice Cream Man was making his (or her) rounds in the middle of the night and he was hearing the music from the Ice Cream Truck.  Maybe it was some alarm on some new-fangled machine that we’d just gotten and neglected to read the instructions to.  Who knows?  But there was no possible way it coulda been the music box.

Now let’s fast-forward.  It’s a few days later, maybe two or three, and my dad’s at work.  I’m in my room.  I hear a happy little song.  It was like little chimes going off in a melodic tune.  “Hmmm,” thought I, wondering where it was coming from.  Now, I would have thought it was a cell phone, but at that time, my mom’s cell had a ring like a regular phone.  It is significant to point such things out today because the first question asked by our modern youth would be, “Could it have been  your cell?”  I didn’t even have a cell phone at that time.  Oh, and by the way, I’ve noticed the majority of teens and pre-teens have cell phones, but it wasn’t like that then.  I didn’t have one, but the majority of my peers were still using landlines like I was, so it wasn’t unusual.

Back to the story.  Suddenly, I thought of that music box!I took off like a bolt of lightning to my parents’ room which was just across the hall, but I didn’t want to miss out!  I still heard the music playing.  I stared at the music box, which was playing at a normal speed.  I picked it up and held it in my palm, careful not to jostle it too much.  I sloooowwwwwly lifted the lid so I could watch the gears.  And as I lifted the lid, the music slowed, chimed the last few notes, and stopped before I could even get a glimpse of the gears to see if they were moving.

I figured that when I wound it up, maybe the gears didn’t move because the pin was down, holding them in place.  But if memory serves, I tried moving the pin and tried a few things before giving up on it the few days before.  However, maybe that’s the way this music box worked.  I don’t know.  There are lots of reasons the gears may not have budged.  And maybe, even though it took a couple of days, maybe there was some vibration that jiggled the table and in turn the music box, setting the gears in motion.  That, I can explain.  But for ever logical reason I come up with, I find myself asking more questions.The thing just didn’t seem to work at all, so how did it manage?  Why would it take so long for the box to go off on its own?  Why would it go off in the middle of the night if no one was messing with it the other times?  And the music box was just one weird thing that happened, so how could I ever explain all of the others?

While most instances with the Hummel were random and unprovoked, I think my interest in it may have sparked something.  Since I had been playing around with it, trying to see what made it tick so to speak, whatever entity that made it work knew just how to get my attention.


REVIEW! The Unauthorized Autobiography of Ethan Jacobs by Dan Dillard (the MACKDADDY of HORROR!)

A good book sticks with you long after you’ve read it. It’s been six days since I finished reading The Unauthorized Autobiography of Ethan Jacobs, but when I’m going about my everyday routine, I’m randomly reminded of a part in the book, making me smile or giving me a chill. It was so well-written that when I reflect upon it, the words and images from the book were expressed with such crystal-clarity that I can visualise it as if I had just seen it in a movie, or as if I had perhaps even experienced it myself. I thought that originality had become a thing of the past when it came to horror, and that there was nothing out there that could scare me because I’d seen it all. Then I got ahold of this book and was proven dead-wrong! It’s original, like nothing I’ve ever read before and truly stands out as top-quality horror, rekindling my love for the genre I had grown so bored with and sparking my interest in Dan Dillard’s other pieces. And The Unauthorized Biography of Ethan Jacobs is *definitely* a book that will stick with you.

Dan Dillard pulls us into the life of the title star, Ethan Jacobs, who by all outward appearances is your average bachelor.  But Ethan harbours an obsession.  A dark obsession that begins as innocent curiosity and escalates until it consumes his life.

Ethan’s mind is always on ghosts, conjuring up new theories in his mind and keeping notes in his electronic journal.  But he is momentarily distracted from his obsession just long enough to enjoy a little get-together among his friends.  There’s his best friend, Aaron, and Aaron’s new girlfriend Kay.  And, adding a touch of sweetnes to Ethan’s own life, is Emily.  They seem like a fun-loving bunch, the type of people I wouldn’t mind hangin’ with on a weekend.  All seems perfect amid their friendly teasing, chatter and laughter, cloaking “the Unknown” in smiles and good times.  As a reader, I got lost in the moment, laughing out loud right along with them, temporarily forgetting that something macabre was to come.  Something that not even Ethan, in all of his occult studies, could have foreseen.
And it was this particular gathering that perpetuated the terrifying series of events!

The emotion in the book is so powerful.  Dan Dillard displays many facets of his talent as a writer and appeals to the senses, desires, and the curiosity of humankind, and while it’s obvious he has the ability to write in any genre, I’m glad he chose horror!  And being that I’m interested in ghosts myself, I found Ethan’s journal entries quite enlightening!  It brings an atmosphere of reality to a topic that was once too taboo to even broach, and as a lover of the supernatural, I found the entire book thought-provoking.  In fact, I just finished reading and I’m still mulling things over in my mind.  It was just that good!

I love all things horror, and I can safely say that if you pick up a copy of THE UNAUTHORIZED BIOGRAPHY OF ETHAN JACOBS by Dan Dillard, you will not be disappointed!  It’s rare that I read or watch something that really scares me, but this book delightfully succeeded!  It’s a great book to pick up and re-read on a stormy day, or one of those nights when you can hear the wind howling outside your window and you’re in the mood for a good fright.

Dan Dillard is an amazing writer, and he delves into the abyss of fear that most of us dare not tread, taking us to a place that only one who truly understands horror can lead us.  He breathes life into our worst nightmares.  He is the standard for all writers in the genre, and he sparks a fire that few authors have achieved: giving his readers a story with substance and scaring the wits out of them at the same time.  He is truly the Mack Daddy of Horror!


Interview with Ghostriders Paranormal (from June 2011) . . . by Joslyn Corvis

UPDATE! October 2011:
I am saddened beyond words to report the passing of Vexie of Ghostriders Paranormal.  As a fan of the show and of Vexie’s, I wanted to express my anguish.  She was amazing as you can tell from watching the Ghostriders, and from reading this interview.  It’s no small wonder why she was my favourite paranormal investigator.
God Bless V
exie and to all of those whose lives she touched.

With deepest sympathy,
Joslyn

 

I was *beside* myself with excitement to get an interview with the HOT NEW GHOST INVESTIGATORS, Bad Max and Vexie, stars of Ghostriders Paranormal, the new series airing here    ( http://www.viddler.com/explore/GhostridersTV/videos/1/ )!  If you click now, you can view the trailer!

It’s premiering on June 4th, 2011, at 8pm EST (That’s right!  This Saturday night!  So mark your calendars and stock up on snacks!)  You can also check out their website, www.ghostridersparanormal.com , and don’t forget to “LIKE” them on facebook!

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/GhostridersTV?sk=info Here is the interview I did with Ghostriders Paranormal, and their personalities just shine right through!  They answered my questions, and thensome!  I just can’t wait to see what Bad Max and Vexie have in store for their viewers!

 1.)    How did you two meet?

[Bad Max] I was playing in a rock band in Atlanta, GA; we met at a club I was playing at called the Dog House, (appropriate as I have been in the Dog House ever since!)

[Vexie] Yeah, and you thought I was much younger than I was…(Giggling) He’s been “Bad” Max ever since I met him. (Slugs Bad Max on the arm)

2.)     What inspired the idea for the show?  How did you get the ball rolling?

[Bad Max] We have been Ghost Hunting ever since it wasn’t cool.  We love to do it and with technology today we felt we could offer a web only option for Paranormal fans around the world, especially fans in countries that don’t have access to these kinds of shows on their local TV stations and for people right here that don’t have cable.

[Vexie] I enjoy using the camera and I have an eye for what needs to be told.

[Bad Max] *interrupts…* You don’t look bad in front of the camera, either.

[Bad Max] We got the ball rolling by spending some money on equipment, computers and editing software, then it was just a matter of using the social networks available to build our fan base. And it’s still growing.

3.)     What’s the secret to working together as a team?

[Bad Max] We have known each other for more than a decade and we really enjoy the hunt. If you love what you do it’s easy.

[Vexie] Agreed, it is a lot of fun and I have learned so much about the Paranormal and the afterlife, and let’s not forget you have to believe. We both are firm believers on a spiritual and scientific level.

4.)     I love the graphics and I love the narrator’s voice.  How many people are involved behind the scenes of Ghostriders Paranormal?

[Bad Max] Thank you, you will be surprised to learn that there are two people always involved in front of the camera as well as behind the scenes. I used to be a Wedding DJ.

[Vexie] (Jumps in)…Can you believe that? Big ole Bad Max a wedding DJ! (Laughs Hysterically.)

[Bad Max] As I was saying, I used to be a Wedding DJ as well as being a pitchman on QVC on Television. Through this experience I’m able to change and adapt my voice for different situations, like Seth McFarland does on Family Guy, for example. I am the narrator for our shows. I also do all of the editing for the shows and I built the website.

[Vexie] Show off…*smiles*
 

5.)     Paranormal investigators all seem to have different reasons for doing what they do.  Maybe they want proof for themselves or to reveal to the world, or to communicate with ghosts or help them to move on.  What are your reasons?

[Bad Max] I personally have different reasons than most; I guess you could call me an adrenaline junkie. Some people skydive, some people bungie jump, some people race cars or snowboadr to get that rush. I Ghost Hunt, same thing really. There is also the desire to help people and I have found that if you really want to help someone with a Ghost Problem, understanding the paranormal is a good place to start.

[Vexie] We can also kick its ass!

[Bad Max] She means clear the house or place of business if needed.

6.)     Do you feel that ghosts are supernatural, or do you think their explanation lies in unstudied science?

[Bad Max] It’s definitely a combination of both, anything that is not natural must be sueprnatural and if you’re at all spiritual, then you believe in some form of life after death. On the science side, we can quote Albert Einstein: “Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.” That’s the best scientific nutshell explanation for the afterlife. Since everything on earth is made from energy at its very core, then it doesn’t simply just disappear, it has to change its form.

[Vexie] Yeah, I believe him ’cause I’ve seen it; when you hear your first disembodied voice or see your first apparation it tends to make a believer out of you.

7.)     I’m sure you deal with a lot of skeptics in your line of work (and of course, some closet Believers as well).  How do your friends and family respond to your line of work?

[Bad Max] Let’s face it, you have to have some balls to do what we do. My brother thinks it’s cool but he’s too chicken to go out with us on a hunt.

[Vexie] My family things it’s intriguing, no problems there.

[Bad Max] Even though our friends say they want to come, something always comes up. I believe they’re chicken too.

8.)     I’ve gone to the website ( www.ghostridersparanormal.com ) and watched the trailer ( www.youtube.com/GhostridersTV ) for Ghostriders Paranormal, and it looks *AWESOME*! I know why I can’t wait to see it (click here to watch: http://www.viddler.com/explore/GhostridersTV/videos/1/ ), but what do you think makes Ghostriders Paranormal stand out among the sea of paranormal programs out there?  What makes you unique?

[Bad Max] Do you really want a spoiler? Let’s say we allow our audience to be the investigator, that’s all I am going to say about that.

[Vexie] (Devilish smile on her face…) That’s all we’re going to say about that.

9.) Ever come across anything malicious?  What would/did you do in that situation?

[Bad Max] You run the risk of that at every hunt. I am formerly trained in several clearing techniques: American Indian smudging, Tibetan clearing bells, and I am an ordained minister so I can bless a house as well.

[Vexie] What we don’t mess with is Demonic entitites; we are not demonologists, we get a friend to deal with that.

10.)     Was there something unexplainable that happened to you to make you take an interest in ghosts, or maybe some experience that you’ve had that stands out in your mind?

[Bad Max] I have always been intrigued by the afterlife. I think if I were to put a finger on it, when my mom died, I was cleaning her house, getting ready for it to be sold, I was by myself in her bedroom and asked her to give me a sign that she was ok, I can’t explain what happened next, I felt her warm hand on my back, it sent chills up my spine, I knew then that I wanted to get to the bottom of the spiritual world.

[Vexie] We all know that what happens after you die is the big question; I want that question answered. And I believe we can make that answer known to the people in the world that don’t understand it.

Thanks, Bad Max and Vexie, for your time, and I’m looking forward to seeing the show! 

Don’t forget it airs on June 4th, 8pm EST right here: http://www.viddler.com/explore/GhostridersTV/videos/1/ ! Visit the Website here: www.ghostridersparanormal.com 

and “LIKE” them on Facebook to keep track of all the ghostly fun! 

www.facebook.com/home.php#!/GhostridersTV?sk=info 

~Until we meet again, “Don’t Stop Believin’!~

xoxo,

Joslyn


Sneak Peak! FOREVER GOTHIC: Witchery and Rivalry! Chapter One, Book One!

Joslyn Corvis
GothicGenie@hotmail.com 

This is the first chapter of FOREVER GOTHIC: Witchery and Rivalry, the first book in the creepily delightful FOREVER GOTHIC series by me, Joslyn Corvis.I welcome any and all feedback, so post a comment, or leave a message here or on facebook.This chapter is intended to give some insight into the personality of Marnie. I have been told by one critic that the character of Marnie was “darling”, and that the book itself, especially the first chapter, really captures that essence of teen angst and that socially awkward time everyone experiences at some point or another.Marnie and her best friend Willis set out on a journey to find out whether or not the most popular girl in school is just your average, prissy cheerleader, or if she’s really a witch.

FOREVER GOTHIC: Witchery and Rivalry
by Joslyn Corvis
 

Chapter One

            “I’m gonna be late because of you!” shouted Marnie Deegan.  “Why won’t you ever do what I want?”  She furiously shook her brush as she scolded her hair.
            Any other day her unruly hair wouldn’t have been a big deal, but today, however, it was a different story.  Today everything had to be just right.  Because today was her first day of high school.
            Marnie didn’t consider herself to be the prettiest girl, or the most popular, or the tallest, the thinnest, or even the most athletic.  She didn’t think she was a spectacular or even an interesting person.  She was just an average girl with above average intelligence, though she never really thought of herself as smart.  And she just happened to be goth.  She wanted to make a good impression, but she didn’t have much to work with.
            “Why can’t I just be perfect like…?” she trailed off, gazing into the mirror.
            Overall she was pretty happy with herself.  But she secretly wished she could be like Rhonda Drake, the most popular girl in school.  She was the head cheerleader and had been since junior high.  If she just had long blonde hair and clear blue eyes like Rhonda, everything would be perfect.  She resented her plain brown eyes and brown hair that she kept dyed black, sometimes with streaks or tinges of blue, red, or pink.  Rhonda had it all.
           
It wasn’t the expectation of harder classes that intimidated Marnie.  Teachers always remembered her as she had no problem making the grade.  Her peers, however, would often mistake her for a new student.  There wasn’t anything special or memorable about her.  Thoughts of school years past flooded her mind.
            What can I do differently this time? she wondered.  What will make people remember me?
            She was sure that Rhonda wasn’t having this dilemma right now.  She was going to walk right into the front doors of Morning View High without a worry in the world, and before lunchtime, everyone, even the upperclassmen, were going to know the name Rhonda Drake.  And every single hair on her head would be perfectly in place!  Just the thought of it annoyed Marnie.
            Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her bedroom door.
            “Honey, I made breakfast,” her mother said, poking her head inside.  “Oh, you look like an angel!”
            Marnie rolled her eyes and smiled.  “You have to say that.  You’re my mom!”
            Downstairs, she prodded her breakfast as she and her mom talked about the day to come.
            “Just be yourself.  Everyone will love you.  You’ll do just fine.”
            Marnie knew her mom was trying to be helpful, but it didn’t relieve her anxiety.  When her mother offered to drive her to school, she nearly had a full on panic attack.
            “I won’t do anything to embarrass you.  No hugs, kisses, or embarrassing nicknames.  I promise.”
            There was no way that Marnie could decline the offer and the next thing she knew, her mother was pulling up in front of the school.  Marnie sat in the car for a moment, summoning some courage.
            “I promised not to embarrass you, so all I’ll say is you’ll be just fine.”
            She leaned over and gave her mom a big hug.
            “Thanks,” Marnie said drawing in a deep breath.  She slowly made her way to the school.  She didn’t dare turn around; she didn’t think she could bear to see her mother drive away.
            Once inside the building, a wave of optimism struck her like a bolt of lightening.  She smiled as she walked past the other students who stood in small clusters, catching up on the latest summer gossip.  As she glanced at her schedule she felt a little lost.  There was an upperclassman with a blue mohawk, so she approached him to ask where her first class was.  He pointed the way, told her his name was Frank and wished her luck.
            It wasn’t a huge school, but she got a little turned around.  By the time she found her first class, the seats were almost full.  She was beginning to feel right at home by the time second period came, which had been cut a little short to make time for a special freshmen class orientation.
            Rhonda walked to her locker, followed by three of her closest friends.  The girls were engaging in the latest gossip about their fellow cheerleaders.
            “I saw the whole thing!  I thought she was going to start crying!” said Cindi with a ruthless laugh.  “He just broke up with her right there in front of everyone!  What a way to start off the first day of school!”
            “I would just die if that happened to me!” said Kristi, “But I doubt it ever will!”  She began to laugh, loudly and obnoxiously.
            Kristi and Cindi could have passed for twins, but they were actually cousins.  It wasn’t until the seventh grade that they went from “Kristy and Cindy” to the trendier “Kristi and Cindi”, with an “i”.  The main difference between the two was that Kristi was slightly taller, but when they weren’t together it was hard to tell them apart.  Marnie had always thought of them as androids from the sci-fi movies she so loved; they were near-perfect annoying carbon-copies of each other.
            “Are any of you guys going to sign up to help out with the dance?  Everyone is going to meet up in the gym on Saturday to discuss decorations and stuff,” said Rhonda, but her friends ignored her when they noticed Marnie walking by.  They were like vultures, standing and staring silently, waiting to make their move.  Marnie found her locker and began to twist the numbers on her lock until it popped open.  Due to a very unfortunate coincidence, she was assigned the locker right beside Rhonda’s, and wherever Rhonda went, the flock was never far behind.
            As usual, Marnie was decked out in all of the latest goth gear: Combat boots, fishnet stockings, knee-length ruffled skirt and a Victorian blouse, all in black and complete with a cameo choker.  Only a couple of days before school started, she had touched up her hair with black dye and refreshed her bright red streaks.  She was feeling pretty good—until Miranda started in on her. 
            “Nice costume,” said Miranda, the red-haired-green-eyed Irish beauty, “but isn’t it a little early for Halloween?”
            “Yeah, you should really think about taking off that mask,” Marnie replied.
            The girls stood there stunned for a moment, and then in true android style, Cindi and Kristi bellowed, “Ooooh,” in unison.  Miranda looked less than pleased and threw her hair back.
            Cindi and Kristi, laughing, followed Miranda as she stormed off unamused.
            Rhonda waved goodbye.
            “Catch up with you guys later!” she promised.
            One of Rhonda’s books toppled out of her locker while she was trying to get organized.  She was wearing strange crystal at the end of a velvety black thread that caught Marnie’s eye when they both bent down to pick up the book, nearly bumping heads.
            “Thanks,” said Rhonda faking sincerity as Marnie handed the book to her.
            “No problem.  By the way, I like your necklace.  In fact, I’ve seen the same necklace in Witch’s Coven Magazine, a replica of the very one Grace Faulkner wore during her witch trial in Salem!  They say that everyone gathered around her to watch as she burned at the stake, and several of the jurors and the judge all fell dead on the spot.  On the first full moon after she died, the courthouse mysteriously burned to the ground as a cackle rang through the air, and bad luck struck the whole village for years to come.  I haven’t had the money to buy it yet but I’m saving up!”  Marnie’s feeble attempt at conversation didn’t go over as well as she had hoped.
            “This isn’t one of those cheap, generic necklaces from your stupid magazine.”  Rhonda accented the insult with a flip of her hair and narrowed eyes.  She then took the necklace off, stroked the stone, and gently polished it on her blouse before she tucked it away into the safety of her locker.  After the assembly, the cheerleaders were to attend a meeting during study hall to get organized and practice some moves.  She usually took the necklace off before practice so as not to ruin it, but she was really making a show of it before disappearing from view as she headed off to the auditorium.
            Marnie stood there, tears nearly welling in her eyes.  This year will be different, she’d promised herself just as she had each new school year before, but of course, things never changed.  She wanted to start fresh and make new friends; she would have even settled for just one.  So far, things weren’t looking too bright but she still had an ounce of hope, if only an ounce.  People either teased her or ignored her completely.  She wasn’t sure which was worse—Being bumped into accidentally without an apology or being pushed on purpose and having her books scatter onto the floor, which was sometimes accompanied by a sarcastic “Sorry”.  It didn’t really matter, because either way she felt invisible to the world.  No one seemed to care about her or how they made her feel.  She figured that she had better toughen up since it looked like Rhonda and her friends would be a part of her daily life unless she requested a locker change, but Marnie, being a bit stubborn, refused to let them get to her.
            As she struggled to keep an optimistic outlook, she was hit by a sudden thought—This year would be different, but only because her best friend Willis Bradford was going to a private school now.  She would be completely alone, but this wasn’t the kind of change she had in mind.  Sadly and quietly she put her things into her backpack, which was black with spider zipper-pulls that she had put on herself, and though she felt like crying, she fought back the urge.  If she cried, her thick layers of black eyeliner would smear and everyone would know, which would only cause the taunting to worsen.  Freshmen aren’t supposed to cry.
            Marnie made her way through the back doors of the stage in the auditorium where she met up with Mr. Higgins, the principal.  He was one of those people who worry over the tiniest of things and it was apparent that he was now worrying over Marnie’s special appearance.  He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, rushing her towards the stage.  All of her sadness soon subsided with all of the excitement that surrounded her.
            “Marnie!  You have less than five minutes until you’re up!  Is your speech prepared?”
            He patted the perspiration from his forehead with a white handkerchief which he folded up and put back into his suit pocket, but he was so nervous that the sweat continued to bead and glisten on the top of his bald head.  He was short and stout and as he spoke to Marnie, she couldn’t help but notice his resemblance to a beardless lawn gnome.
            “Yes, Sir, I’ve been working on it all summer to get it just right!”
            “Good!  Now wait until your name is announced, and then you can go out there and give your speech!  Knock ’em dead!”  Knowing her speech was prepared apparently eased his mind as he smiled and sat down to watch the rest of the assembly.  He had already made his speech to welcome the new freshmen class, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that.
            Marnie was the ideal student.  She never made less than an A and had never been in any trouble, so when Mr. Higgins contacted the junior high to find a student to make a speech at the freshmen orientation, there was no doubt that it would be any other than Marnie Deegan.  He had only met with her once before the end of the last school year.  He explained to her how it wouldn’t have to be lengthy, as long as it inspired her classmates to take school more seriously and look at different options for a better future.
            As Miss Donovan, a science teacher, spoke about the many career choices in the field of science one could pursue, Marnie began to daydream.  She was hoping this speech would help her to gain popularity and respect from her peers, but the daydream was cut short as she caught her name being said on the microphone, followed by a feeble applause that bubbled through the crowd.  Miss Donovan moved away from the podium and handed over the mike, which squeaked horribly as Marnie adjusted it to her height.  There were several annoyed groans from the audience.
            “Fellow freshmen…We are still young and have the rest of our high school years to figure out where we want to be and what we want to do after graduation, but now is the time to contemplate it very seriously.”  Here, a paper airplane swirled over the crowd as a few giggles rose and fell.  Marnie continued. 
            “As you all know, this is the most important time in our lives; some of us are planning to head off to college after high school; others are still deciding which college to attend; some of us still have no idea what we want to do at all.  We have a lot of decisions to make, but keep in mind that we are paving the roads to one of the most important highways—Our future!  It’s our first year here at Morning View High and we all have clean slates, so make the most of it!”  Marnie paused and smiled as excited cheers rose up in the audience. 
            “These next four years will be gone before we know it, so study hard, and have a great time at the Back to School Dance; it’s only two weeks away!”
            There was an even louder cheer from the audience at the mention of the dance.  She felt quite satisfied with herself as she walked across the stage and sat in a chair behind the curtain to watch the rest of the speakers.  Yes, this year will definitely be different, she thought optimistically as the applause died down.
            Maybe they’ll remember my name!