That Burnt Orange Season: When Ghosts Walk

We're in for another treat from my dear friend,Yasmine Galenorn! Yasmine is here to tell us about her upcoming books, and other, otherworldly things:) Enjoy.

Autumn blessings, my flowers...

Stella

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Hey people! It's me again. Yasmine Galenorn, author of the Otherworld Series and the upcoming Indigo Court Series (Berkley). The lovely Stella Cameron of Running With Quills has invited me back and I'm happy to be here and thank the wonderful RWQ ladies for their hospitality.

Yes, it's true, I have a new release coming out the end of this month on October 27, 2009, right in time for Halloween and Samhain!

NEVER AFTER is an anthology of four tales of almost-marriage and happy-to-run-away brides. As the cover says, "All-new tales of magic revealed—and matrimony refused—by four of today's most provocative authors." I'm keeping good company. My co-authors are: Laurell K. Hamilton, Marjorie Liu, and Sharon Shinn and all of our tales border on fairytale, but with our own skewed visions. No shy princesses here, no Cinderella waiting for her Prince, or Sleeping Beauty who must be wakened by a kiss. No, the women in our stories stand up for themselves, they're the ones who run off and do the adventuring, but yes—true love can still find it's way into the mix. It just doesn't come with a glass slipper attached.

My addition to the book is a novella titled "The Shadow of Mist." A tale from my Otherworld Series, the story is from the viewpoint of Siobhan Morgan, the selkie friend of the D'Artigo girls. Selkies are long-established folklore. They're beings of the sea—whose natural forms are that of a seal, but who can also take the shape of humans. They must carry their seal skins with them if they hope to ever return to the sea in seal form once they've been on land. If you want to see a wonderful examination of this legend, I suggest watching "The Secret of Roan Inish"—a mystical, haunting, beautiful movie.

Siobhan's story weaves between her life back in Ireland, and why she fled to America. Her secrets, long buried under the hundred years she's been on this shore, are brought to light when a man emerges who once brutalized her—whom she was promised to in marriage. Now she must stop him before he destroys the life and love she's built here. In true fairytale form, you'll find a prince who's more nightmare than charming, true love in a man who makes his living with his hands rather than through wearing a crown, and a fight to the death against the monsters from the past.

Folklore, myth and legend have always captivated me. I read through all the fairytales I could find when I was very young. I read Aesop's Fables for fun. I hunted down mythology and reveled in the tales of the Greeks and Romans. The Faerie lore of Celtic countries—well, actually, worldwide because it is a worldwide phenomenon—always intrigues me. Yes, I do believe in the Fae—but not in Tinkerbelle's type. My beliefs in the Fae hearken back to the wild folk of legend, to the glorious Sidhe and to their darker cousins, to the goblins and kobolds and kelpie and pooka and bean sidhe. And when I write about them, the Fae in my worlds are not safe, nor are they cute.

And then, there are the delightful creatures of legend and myth that truly belong to October—the vampires and the werewolves, the shapeshifters and ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Now, I firmly do believe in ghosts. As to werewolves and the rest, I keep an open mind. But ghosts—ghosts are perfect for October. Ghosts can be found year round, but really, what better time to watch spooky movies and tell tales of things that go bump in the night, than this glorious burnt orange season. (I admit, I got that phrase off a card. I love it, and it speaks volumes to this time of year).

As I said, I do believe in ghosts. As some of you know from my previous posts here, I'm a 'modern-day' shamanic witch. I've dealt with spirits and ghosts—clearing them from a few houses. And now and then, I find them dropping in on me. I admit, they can, and do, spook me, even though I'm used to the idea that they exist.

One spirit in particular scared the hell out of me and my friends. We'd cleared a few houses for people before, but this was the hardest one to shake loose. There were several spirits living in Cindy's house, and most were willing to go once we showed them the way. But this one ghost—an old man, a vicious old man—didn't want to budge. Finally we managed to roust him out of there but over the course of that evening, the spirit pulled several tricks on us, including
manifesting as a skull. My friend D. and I happened to glance at a door that had a window in the top half (it was an inner door, so nobody was outside pulling pranks) and we plainly saw a skull with glowing eyes staring at us. Talk about low budget horror film fodder, but at the time it was terrifying.

For witches, Wiccans, and Pagans (I'm a pagan and witch, but not Wiccan—but we all share similar beliefs), Samhain—November 1st (and pronounced Sow-een)—is the day of the dead. The day when we celebrate those who've gone before and pay honor to the dead whom we miss. During this time, in my tradition, we invite our lost loved ones to join us, to visit and spend an evening with us. One of our rituals is to perform a silent meditation, thinking about what they meant in our lives, what we learned from them, and quite often we'll catch glimpses of them, or snippets of conversations from them. We usually do this on the night of October 31st, the time when the veils between the world are thinnest.

During one Samhain, I was sitting in my living room and the spirit of a tiny kitten—a little orange tabby—crawled in my lap. I could see my dress shift as it curled up on my lap. I started to cry because I realized it didn't understand that it was dead. I called to the Lady Bast, who cares for all cats, and asked her to help it over to the other side. I've seen a number of cat spirits, I think they feel safe in our house.

And on another Samhain, we gathered with friends and a young man appeared in the doorway. I could see him clear as day. He was wearing a mechanics uniform and carrying a motorcycle helmet and he told me, "Nobody remembers me..." After the meditation, we all talked about what we'd experienced and a friend of mine, when I described the red-haired young man, let out a startled shout. Turns out that years before, she'd dated a young man named Rusty. He had red hair, he was a mechanic, and he'd died in a motorcycle accident. So after that, she included him in her remembrances at Samhain.

After my mother died, she began to show up here now and then. She always looked so much happier and so much stronger than she had during life. I know she keeps an eye on me, and she also shows up at my sister Wanda's house. Mom's watching over her girls in death, since she couldn't do so in life.

So tell me, in this wonderful burnt orange season when wood smoke curls into the sky, when the rains drizzle from silvery skies and the cedars and firs lend a crisp scent to the air—tell me, have you had any ghostly visitors, pleasant or unpleasant? Do you hear things that go bump in the night, and do you sometimes glance around a corner, thinking you've caught a glimpse of someone...or something...from the other side?

Bright Blessings,
Yasmine

NY Times Bestselling author Yasmine Galenorn writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and paranormal mystery for Berkley. She's also written eight nonfiction metaphysical books. A shamanic witch for almost thirty years, she collects tattoos and teacups (the former on her skin, the latter in the china cabinet), and lives in Bellevue, WA with her husband and a rampaging horde of cats. You can find her at her website: www.galenorn.com and on Twitter: www.twitter.com/yasminegalenorn