Excerpt from – HAUNTED RICHMOND - “Stories Comics” Chapter:
By 9:00 p.m., in groups of two or more two, we all set off in different directions after Cheryl turned off all the lights. Greg of RPS was my partner for the night. Greg and I decided to go in the back room of the bookstore and begin there.
It was quiet and very dark—spooky. I could see where those working alone in the store might imagine anything creepy going on. I found a good place to stash my EMF meter that didn’t cause all the lights to come on (the wiring in such an old building can make the meters go off easily, something a potential ghost hunter should be aware of). Then, I switched on my recorder for the second time (I did an earlier recording for a short time when the lights were all still on) and set it on top of a couple of paperbacks. Greg and I asked questions, trying to get responses. We talked to each other and took pictures. We began to see parts of the darkness move—shadows. At one point, I saw something shifted by Greg, between the two of us, and I quickly snapped a picture. I captured a mass of blackness that covered his lower half and along the bookcase he stood in front of. I also captured a large shadow in the last aisle to my right.
The investigation became interesting when a second light came on my EMF meter. I asked some questions. The answers we received were that it was a male and loved comic books.
Later that night, two members of Ghost Eyes did something else in the same room and indicated that though the spirit seemed shy, he did get responses from it. One of RPS investigators, Carol, and I scared it off for a bit when we stuck our heads in to see what was going on, but it returned when Steve coaxed it. I watched and saw a shadow move to him, then dart back.
Greg and I did the ‘claustrophobic’ room in back of the center section of the building. The room was small and tight, with shelves filled with boxes of comics. I found a good enough place to set up my EMF meter where all the lights on didn’t automatically come on. We put down our recorders and settled down comfortably to ask questions and see what happened. Besides odd sounds, we would catch sight of shadows that were there, then not. One of those shadows hovered just outside of the room. For a second I saw a person with his or her hands on their hips, and then it vanished. I double-checked to see where my own shadow was. It was with me in the room, to my left. Usually I have seen shadowy masses in investigations before, but never one shaped like a person.
I found out that Greg had a Frank’s box. Another investigator was already utilizing a similar device in another room of the shop. Greg dug it out of his bookbag and set it up. After turning it on and setting to it in scanning mode, we began asking questions, hoping to get answers by voice, unlike the responses we get with the EMF meter. A voice said he was Charles (some of the investigators told us that they found on their own Frank’s box that the ghost in that room was Chuck) and that he worked in one of the businesses that were there before Stories. But he wouldn’t answer if he was an employee or the owner of the business. When I felt someone pulled at the back my T-shirt, I became upset and blurted out about invasion of my personal space. Suddenly, a male voice said from the box, “I’m sorry.”
It began to feel crowded in that room, as if there were lots of people on each side of Greg and me. The claustrophobic feeling grew worse. We shut off the box as we couldn’t get anything more, grabbed our recorders, my EMF meter and the bookbag, and left, stopping in the comic store section.
I got the feeling that the spirits had followed us from the room we just vacated. Voices came from the ghost box when Greg set it up, and I felt touches and my shirt tugged again, though not as hard as before. After a while, they quit.
One other strange thing that happened to me was when my recorder began to play and my voice rose from it. Greg thought it was his radio, but I figured out what it was and asked him to shine his light on it so I could change it back to recording mode. Funny thing, I never touched it. The last time this happened to me was at Cold Harbor in April 2007.
11:00 p.m. rolled around and everyone gathered up the equipment. I thanked Cheryl before the Ghost Eyes team drove me home. I uploaded my pictures and the recordings. There was nothing at all on the first recording. But on the second one, I had an EVP while we were in the claustrophobic room. For a short moment I heard low whispering.
Some members of the Richmond Paranormal Society got an assortment of activity. There was an interesting orb action caught on video. A couple of orbs floated from out of one of the back rooms, hovered in an extremely odd flight path, and then flew right back into the room. One of the members had an EVP of growling in one of the rooms, too. 


 Excerpt from The Witch and the Familiar (adult in nature as is the book, so only 18 and older can read):

A year later, Charun stood in front of the mirror on the wall and whispered a few words. The glass warped in and out, becoming something not unlike a television monitor. In it, he saw his witch working in the Cup of Tea and a Book bookstore, handing a bag of books over to a customer.
"She's gorgeous," he whispered.
He ached to reach his hand through the glass and finger the long, blonde strands of hair. He itched to stroke the skin of her face and see if it felt as soft as it looked. He took a few steps back, for if he didn't he would jam his head through the glass and kiss her on the lips. His cock expanded, growing longer and harder than ever before. Lust tore through him like a ravenous animal ready to devour its prey.
The time had come.
About time, too.
Taking spirit form and not looking back, Charun rose from the bowels of Hell to the mortal realm. He touched ground just down the street from Cup of Tea and a Book bookstore and became a handsome, naked man. His staff waved before him like a proud, hissing snake, spitting even as precum beaded at the slit. He shook his head. No, it was too soon for him to assume the man form. He frowned, thinking.
A cat!
He would become a cat. That would do—for now. Just not a horny tomcat, as the pain of his arousal washed over him. He dodged into a nearby alley and worked his organ, biting his lips when he came.
Withdrawing his hand from his flaccid penis and using the other to prop himself against the building, he spoke in demon, "Denoch er nomonaty."
A strange feeling slammed into him and he cried out as he dropped to his knees on the pavement. Thrusting out a hand against the ground so he wouldn't topple over, he began to metamorphose, growing smaller and smaller as he did. Black fur sprouted all over his body and head. His ears sharpened into points and shot up over his head, while his hands and feet became paws edged with sharp claws. Whiskers pinged out of his cheeks, and from his buttocks snaked a long tail. He hunched over and then fell over onto his ass. Within seconds, his metamorphose completed, he was a black cat. Resisting the peculiar urge to wash his face, Charun stretched and rose onto all four paws. He padded over to a puddle of rainwater to inspect the change.
He sat down and viewed his reflection. Not bad looking as far as cats went. Lifting a paw, he splashed his image. Then he trotted to the street and paused to sniff the air. He sneezed as the full force of odors hit him. A multitude of different things, from the smell of blasted sunshine to the grime of city life. The lack of moisture in the air revealed that it would not rain for days. The last time it had stormed was last week. He had arrived a day over.
He needed heavy rain to make his first appearance to his witch, as a reason for her to feel sorry for him and take him in. From what he remembered, she would not leave any animal drowning in a torrential downpour. But, from all the viewing he did of her growing up, he knew she wasn't an impulsive person, either. She loved animals, but felt that she couldn't afford one right now in her life. He might end up in an animal shelter. This kind of operation needed the right things in place.
Timing was important, too, even now. His witch's survival was the true equation here. If she died before he made her a witch, he knew the fate for Earth if the demons took over. There was the matter of his lust for her, too. Relieving it wouldn't be bad, either.
He cocked his head and twitched his ears. He was a demon with strong magic. Closing his eyes, he let his magic surround him with a shimmering golden light.
Lano'ste. Na la por lestano.
His fur stood on end, crackling. He widened his eyes as the magic burned within and outside with a violent heat close to atomic. It clenched his insides with an excruciating pain. He fell onto his side and barely noticed when it shot away from him, heading toward the blue skies. It dusted the few white clouds drifting along and they became obsidian and pregnant with rain. Still unsteady, he rolled onto his stomach and waited until the power quieted. Charun breathed in the rain's odor and gave a Cheshire cat grin. He rose to his paws and padded off as the sound of thunder vibrated in the air.
Fuck the weather forecasters and their predictions. With magic, he'd just turned their Doppler radar upside down.

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Many things scare us. But the most fearful things are those that infect our nightmares and visitations. Monsters from the closet or from another planet. Ghosts that haunt more than houses. Werewolves are not the only shapeshifters to beware of. Children can be taken from more than the human kind of monsters. Even normal things can be the start of a heart-pounding terror. Prepare to step beyond the pages into Spectre Nightmares and Visitations. Just tell yourself that they're only stories.
About Pamela K. Kinney aka Sapphire Phelan:
Pamela K. Kinney is a published author of horror, science fiction, fantasy, poetry, and nonfiction ghost books published by Schiffer Publishing. Two of her nonfiction ghost books, Haunted Richmond, Virginia and Haunted Virginia: Legends, Myths and True Tales, have been nominated in the past for Library of Virginia Literary Awards. The others from Schiffer Publishing are her new 2012 release, Haunted Richmond II, plus from 2011, Virginia's Haunted Historic Triangle: Williamsburg, Yorktown, Jamestown, and Other Haunted Locations. Also just released are two short horror stories, "Donating" in Inhuman Magazine, Issue 5 December 2011 and "Bottled Spirits" in in June 2012, plus “Azathoth is Here" was reprinted in by Innsmouth Press in Innsmouth Magazine: Collected Issues 1-4 in Kindle and ePub formats. And of course, she has her horror and dark fantasy tales collected in one book, Spectre Nightmares and Visitations, published by Under the Moon.
Under the pseudonym, Sapphire Phelan, she has published erotic and sweet paranormal/fantasy/science fiction romance along with a couple of erotic horror stories. Her erotic urban fantasy, Being Familiar With a Witch is a Prism 2010 Awards winner and a Epic Awards 2010 finalist. The sequel to Being Familiar With a Witch, A Familiar Tangle With Hell was released June 2011 from Phaze Books.  Both eBooks were combined into one print book, The Witch and the Familiar, released April 24, 2012.
She also has done acting on stage and in films. And is a Master Costumer, costuming since 1972. She even does paranormal investigating.
She admits she can always be found at her desk and on her computer, writing. And yes, the house, husband, and even the cats sometimes suffer for it!

Find out more about Pamela K. Kinney at and about Sapphire Phelan at
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