The Necromancer

As many of you know, I spent the past week in Gettysburg, PA, with a group of friends. What started off as a way to get together and explore a national park with a tragic history ended up being something altogether different. It changed my entire life.

I almost died on my way home.

It didn’t happen due to a car accident or medical emergency. It happened because I am a lightworker. When we allow ourselves to become intertwined with the paranormal world, we also must acknowledge the fact that we are bringing danger into our lives. Not all of the ghosts are demons who want to bring torment to our lives but then again, they aren’t all grandmothers rocking quietly in their chairs either.

When I wrote Ruin of Souls, the story about Shaman Michael Robishaw’s amazing feats in the paranormal arena, I also learned that there is far more evil roaming around the world than I first imagined. I was of the belief that demons were few and far between and that the ghost shows on television were just amping up the drama for ratings by labeling everything they came across as demonic. In the past few months, I’ve learned differently and the last one nearly cost me my life.

Evil roams the world in abundance. Sometimes we see it and recognize it for what it is, but other times it is far more elusive. When a madman goes on a bloody rampage, most of us don’t even consider a paranormal angle. When someone we know goes through a dark period, we ply them with medications and give them a condition that may or may not apply. We only look at what we can see and often miss a darker underlying reason for it.

A friend of mine recently contacted me because her daughter had been going through a dark depression. It was so unlike her that her mother worried. She stopped doing all the things she loved and shut herself inside. After reading Ruin of Souls, her mother began to wonder if something else was at work and she asked me to connect her with Michael.

Michael Robishaw has the ability to astral project to locations. He also has a deep connection with his Spirit Guides, one of whom is a practiced warrior. Together, they can see beyond what most people see and root out the evil that is causing the issues. In my friend’s case, her suspicions were correct. Her daughter had three negative attachments. They were ghosts who were pulling her energy and impacting her thoughts. After Michael removed them and banished them to a place where they can no longer hurt the living, her daughter’s condition improved dramatically. It was almost as though a dark cloud had been lifted from around her. She began painting again and visiting family. Where there were scowls and angry words, there was now laughter and joy.

I’ve always felt that there was a bigger purpose for my involvement in the paranormal world. It went beyond investigating and documenting the activity. There was more to it than recording an amazing EVP that I could share with my friends. I wanted to help. One of my mentors, a wonderful psychic medium named Barbara Williams, taught me how to cross over trapped souls.

The first time I felt them pass over into Heaven, my eyes filled with tears. I tried to imagine how beautiful it must be for them to finally find peace and salvation, after having wandered around lost and alone for decades, if not centuries. I envisioned them reunited with their loved ones, celebrating their reunion.

I began teaching a Paranormal 101 class in 2015. Many of my original class members have now grown into close friends. As a group, we have crossed over dozens during the course of the past year. Members of my group became as adept at it as I was, several of them surpassing me in their abilities. It felt wonderful. We were actually helping. What I didn’t realize was that by helping lost souls, I was also painting a large target on my own back.

It caught up with us this week when we went to Gettysburg and we crossed paths with a soul collector.

Just the word “soul collector” sets my teeth on edge. I experienced a demonic attachment back in 2011 who also collected souls and documented it in my 2013 book Soul Collector. Meeting another one wasn’t part of my life’s goals.

But there we were, on the battlefields of Gettysburg, helping weary souls find release and redemption when we came across something that had been holding them in place. It followed us back to our campsite and terrorized us for two full nights, angry that we removed some of his collection.

As I drove home last night, I didn’t realize he was in the backseat behind me. I also didn’t realize what he planned to do to me once darkness settled across the land. Thankfully, I had Jose Prada and Michael Robishaw. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have survived it.

So many other things happened this week that brought this all to a head. I am going to document it in my next book, tentatively titled “The Necromancer.”

Stay tuned…


Joni Mayhan is a paranormal investigator and author who recently relocated back to her home state of Indiana after spending the past thirty years in New England. For more information about her books, click on any of the photos below.

Signs of Spirits front cover 400ppi Ruin of Souls cover  Dark and Scary Things- A Sensitive's Guide to the Paranormal World cover

Bones in the Basement front cover 3 devils-toy-box-cover-small  The_Soul_Collector_Cover_for_Kindle


Why I’m Really Moving a Thousand Miles Away


I’ve always been a big believer in fate and destiny. I also believe that most things happen for a reason. After experiencing one disappointment after another, I began paying attention to the signs that were sent to me and started turning my life around.

After my divorce in 2005, I purchased a cute little house in the town of Barre, Massachusetts, that was well within my budget. At the time, I was working a management position for a national pet chain and was capable of purchasing a house on my own. Two weeks before the moving truck came to haul my meager belongings to my new home, fate smacked me in the face. The deal fell through. The owners decided not to sell their house afterall. That left me with very few options.

My family was a thousand miles away and I didn’t have any close friends at the time, so I had nowhere to go. Instead of moving into my cute new home, I moved into a motel that offered monthly rentals on efficiency units while I looked for another house. Because they didn’t allow pets, I had to make arrangements with my ex-husband to watch my two cats and dog. My parrot came to work with me at the store I managed, along with my pet rat.

This was a rock-bottom existence for me. I was separated from my kids who couldn’t stay with me due to the longer distance to their schools, and I was removed from my pets that spent their days locked in a basement utility closet. I was there for three months, hating every moment. As Christmas neared, I wasn’t sure I could survive it through the holidays. The thought of hanging garland around the window at the motel was depressing. When a house came on the market in the town I needed to be in, I jumped on it.

It was thirty-thousand dollars more than the first house I picked, but it had recent renovations and was move-in ready. The bank wouldn’t process a loan for me, so I was encouraged to talk to my ex-husband’s mortgage guy, who could “work miracles.”

I got the loan, but they didn’t factor the town taxes into the already high mortgage. I’d have to pay those myself quarterly. It was a tight stretch, but I thought I could make it work. Shortly afterwards, I was offered a promotion at work, moving from a store location to a regional position. Every month was a struggle, but I survived. I paid my bills on time, even if I had to scrimp and save, and made improvements to my house, adding on a new roof, windows, siding and repaving the driveway with money I received after my house was hit by a drunk driver in 2007. All was well and good until 2011 came around.

I was promoted to a national position with the pet industry chain, but ended up losing more than I gained. The company car that I was given was taken away, resulting in my need to purchase a used car and add car payments, insurance, gas and maintenance to my already tight budget. I began slipping on my town taxes, often paying back taxes with my tax refunds.

In January of 2013, I was hit with a life altering letter from my bank. They said that because I was late paying my taxes, they paid them for me. My already high mortgage suddenly went up another four-hundred dollars a month. I was devastated. How could I afford that? I called the bank and pleaded with them, but they were firm on their decision. They would be willing to reassess the situation in two years. There was more to the story than I was aware of, something I didn’t find out until over a year later.

During this same period, the town clerk of my town was stealing tax payments. I knew I was several quarters behind, but didn’t realize that she had also taken my first two quarter payments. If I had figured this out at the time, I probably could have done something, but I didn’t. I was too caught up in the reality that was presented to me. I contacted a lawyer and was encouraged to simply foreclose on the house. The housing market in my town was horrible and my bank was shy on accepting short-sales on properties. My house was also now worth less than $100,000 less than what I paid for it, despite the thousands of dollars of improvements I made on it.

This was, hands down, the worst thing that ever happened to me. After all those years of struggling to keep my credit rating high and to pay my bills on time, I was now looking at having to declare bankruptcy to protect myself from the bank due to the foreclosure. I went from hopeful to hopeless in a matter of months. I moved my son and myself into an apartment an hour away, closer to his new college, and did nothing more than survive. Six months later, I was hit with a second major blow. The pet industry chain was moving my national job to the corporate office in Texas. I could either move with it or quit.

Moving simply wasn’t an option. I was supporting a son who was only in his first year of college and wasn’t even certain I could financially survive in Texas. I took the severance package and took a leap of faith that everything would work out for me. In less than a year, I went through foreclosure, bankruptcy and unexpected unemployment.

During this period of time, I truly began connecting with my spiritual side. I began communicating with my spirit guides and learning to watch for signs. Several psychic medium friends echoed what I was beginning to suspect. Obstacles were being removed for me so I was able to do what I was born to do: write.

I cranked out 15 books in four years, making just enough to survive on. I’d like to say this was my happily-ever-after, but life had more in store for me. Earlier this year, as my lease was running out on my apartment, my son hit me with some news. He wanted to move in with his girlfriend and begin his own life. Not only did this mean I wouldn’t have his daily companionship, I’d also lose the child support which helped me stay afloat. With a heavy heart, I swallowed my pride and made the decision to move back into my old house, which was still in foreclosure.

I couldn’t purchase anything else until the house was out of foreclosure. I called the bank to inquire about their intentions on selling it and was met with indifference. My lawyer told me that houses in my town weren’t selling well and that the bank might hold onto it for another five years, for all she knew. “You might as well wait it out in the house instead of paying rent somewhere else,” she told me.

Moving back into the house that I abandoned two years previously wasn’t an easy feat. Water pipes were busted, heating radiators were cracked and cobwebs draped from every ceiling. Furthermore, I was also moving back into the house where I experienced the Soul Collector. Many mediums felt there was an open portal in my old bedroom. Unfortunately, I didn’t have many other choices. The meager money I make on book sales, classes and events wasn’t enough to support an apartment, providing I could even find one that would accept my pets.

I bit the bullet and forked out the money to have the house repaired. Pipes were fixed, an issue with the well was repaired, the house was scoured clean from top to bottom and walls were painted. Less than a month after I moved back in, I got another heavy blow. The bank was finally jumping into action and were selling my house at auction. After all the work and money, I had less than a month to get out of the house.

I looked for jobs, but found that I wasn’t all that marketable after years of being out of the work force for so long. My Paranormal 101 classes were beginning to dwindle in attendance and book sales were steady, but not enough to support me in New England, which is one of the most expensive places in the US to reside. What was I going to do?

Digging deep has become a way of life for me. Nothing has ever been handed to me. I take complete ownership of the fact that I made some terrible decisions and am paying for them now. If I thought I was at rock bottom in 2012, I was now carving out a cozy space below it. Would I end up homeless? Was this how those things happened, with a slow decline that led to an unavoidable drop off? Would I become one of those sad people who lived in their cars?

I called my mother and told her about my situation and she promised me that no one would let me be homeless. “Why don’t you move back to Indiana where the cost of living is much lower?” she asked me. She offered to help me finance a house in the historic town of New Harmony, a place I’d always loved. Could I really do that? Leave everything I knew and loved in New England, including my son and daughter, as well as my friends?

My former step-father stepped in and took over. Doug began tirelessly house hunting for me in New Harmony, but we weren’t having much luck. Every house we found had an issue or the deal fell through. Finally, he purchased a modest mobile home that sits on a corner lot and is going to rent it to me until I can find something else.

I’ve always been the kind of person who bounced back from hardships quickly, always searching for the bright side of situations instead of lingering on the brutal reality. Once I let go of the sense of misery, I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Indiana is my home state. My family lives there, as well as several childhood friends I’m still close to. Maybe I could make a fresh start there.

As my mind wandered, I thought about bringing the paranormal world to the historic town of New Harmony. I could set up ghost tours for the bevy of tourists who flood there every summer and autumn. I could set up paranormal investigations at some of the haunted buildings. I might also write a book about the town’s haunted history. Hope began to creep in where heartache once resided. I could do this.

My moving truck arrives in two weeks, something that both terrifies and excites me. Two of my trusted psychic mediums friends have assured me that this will be a good move for me and I believe them. If I have paid attention to the signs, this is where I’m being led.

I don’t know what I will find in Indiana, but I have a feeling it will be something exceptional and rewarding. I’ll be continuing this blog as I move, so please stay tuned.

Joni Mayhan
April 26, 2016

Joni Mayhan is a paranormal investigator, teacher and the author of 15 books. To check out some of her paranormal books, click the photos below.

Signs of Spirits front cover 400ppi Ruin of Souls cover Dark and Scary Things- A Sensitive's Guide to the Paranormal World cover

soul-collector-cover-small Bones in the Basement front cover 3 Ghost Voices cover


Ghost Hunting Equipment That Might Save Your Life


Mel meter

Miranda always felt uneasy in her basement, especially near the doorway that linked the two rooms together. When she stood there, she felt as though someone was watching her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. After a while, she avoided the basement as much as possible, believing she had a ghost lurking down there.

When she called me, I was happy to help. As a paranormal investigator, that’s what I do. If I find signs of a haunting, I attempt to document the activity and then work with several psychic mediums to help me alleviate the anguish that is causing the haunting. The very first thing I do though is look for normal, natural reasons for the activity.

Many people in the field call this process “debunking.” While many investigators are eager to capture evidence they can share with their friends, serious investigators always rule out everything else before they label it “haunted.” In Miranda’s case, not only did I debunk the haunting, but I might have saved her life in the process.

As someone who is sensitive to paranormal energy, I can tell in a matter of moments if a house is haunted. I hear a tone that is similar to ear ringing that alerts me, which is often followed by a clairvoyant “mind picture” that gives me more information. In Miranda’s case, I came up empty. I wasn’t picking up on anything supernatural to be causing her to feel the way she did.

I’m not one of those investigators who carries a suitcase full of equipment with me to investigations. I have a few carefully chosen pieces of equipment that I like, and I carry them in a small camera bag that I can slip over one shoulder. My favorite device is an EMF meter. I think of it as my debunking tool.

An EMF (Electromagnetic Field) detector is a device that measures electromagnetic energy, which is a type of low frequency energy that radiates from electrical and electronic devices. Paranormal investigators believe that ghosts can manipulate this energy as a sign of their presence and often use it as a communication tool. While I have seen this phenomena first-hand, my primary reason for using an EMF meter is to determine if the haunting is caused by something more dangerous than a ghost.

There are various manufacturers who make EMF meters. Some people prefer the Tri-fold Meter, because it measures a wider array of electromagnetic energy. Others like the ease of using a KII meter, which has lights instead of numbers to show the levels. I prefer my Mel Meter.

There is a touching story behind the creation of the Mel Meter. After Gary Galka’s daughter Melissa died in a tragic automobile accident, his family began receiving signs that she was still nearby in spirit form. Already an accomplished engineer and the owner of D.A.S. Distribution, he designed a meter that he could use to communicate with her. He continues to donate a percentage of his profits to bereavement groups to help others get through the heart-breaking process of losing a loved one. This, along with the excellent customer service and equipment quality, makes me a loyal customer. I often think about Mel as I use my meter, wondering how many other lives she’s saved through the device her father invented.

As I moved around the basement, the level on my Mel Meter stayed at zero, which means it wasn’t detecting any electromagnetic energy fields, ghosts or otherwise.

“Good so far, “ I told her.

“Check near that doorway,” she told me from the safety of the other room. It was obvious from the expression on her face that she was still frightened of the basement.

I moved to the doorway, watching in surprise as the numbers on my meter spiked upwards. By the time I got to the doorway, my EMF detector hit 200 mg (milligauss).

“Oh wow!” I moved around the edge of the doorway and found myself in front of an electrical panel. I didn’t really need an EMF meter to see that it had been sloppily wired. It looked like a box of worms all screwed together. I called her over to show it to her.

“You need to get this fixed immediately. It’s a fire hazard,” I told her. It was amazing that the house hadn’t already burned down.

Most people don’t realize that electronic and electric devices that emit high levels of EMF energy can impact your health and well-being. People who are sensitive to the energy will often feel uneasy, as though they are being watched, and could even develop headaches and hallucinations if the EMF levels are high enough. Furthermore, EMF energy has also been linked to serious health concerns, including cancer, birth defects, Alzheimer’s and depression, just to name a few.

Common items that frequently emit high levels of EMF waves include alarm clocks, refrigerators, microwave ovens and even Wi-Fi units. Research also suggests that EMF affects the pineal gland, which regulates the secretion of melatonin, which is a hormone that regulates our sleep, as well as being a natural cancer fighter. People with reduced amounts of melatonin are more susceptible to breast and ovarian cancer, prostate cancer and melanoma cancer. It has also been connected to issues with depression and even suicide.

How to Reduce Your Risk of High EMF

  • Check your house with a EMF meter and either remove or repair any issues you find.
  • Insure that all electronic and electric devices are at least 3 feet away from your bed. This includes alarm clocks and cell phones.
  • Make note of places in your home that make you feel uneasy. Inspect those areas for potential problems.
  • Don’t stand in front of the microwave while warming up food. The photo above was taken in front of my own microwave oven, which is only a year old. Older units will probably throw off even higher levels of EMF.
  • Avoid using electric heat blankets unless you have tested them for EMF levels.

Another friend who suspected a haunting, had two faulty air purifying units in her living room. Each one emitted over 100 mg of EMF and were situated at either end of the room. After we discovered them, she removed them and the sensation of being watched went away immediately, as did her frequent headaches.

If you suspect that something in your house is generating high EMF energy, check it out immediately. The health concerns are far too great to ignore it.


Joni Mayhan is a paranormal investigator and the author of 15 paranormal books. To learn more about her, check out her website


Click on the pictures below to learn more about her books.

Ruin of Souls cover Bones in the Basement front cover 3 Dark and Scary Things- A Sensitive's Guide to the Paranormal World cover

Ghost Voices cover soul-collector-cover-small Devil'sToy Box




Sneak Peak of Ruin of Souls

Ruin of Souls coverRuin of Souls back cover

Ruin of Souls will be released on December 5th on and, but I thought I’d give you a preview. Here is the first chapter.


Chapter 1

Something pinned Tracy Gudeman to the bed.

She couldn’t move, not even an inch, as invisible fingers ruffled through her hair, taunting her. All around her, the sounds of the night kept a maddeningly normal cadence. The crickets chirped outside her bedroom window and the clock in the living room ticked steadily. She could hear the sound of a car passing by on the street outside, the sound momentarily silencing the crickets.

What was happening?

After a few agonizing moments, the pressure eased and Tracy was able to move again. She pushed herself up to her elbows, listening intently to the sounds of the house.

Was it gone?

Nothing changed in the house. It was as though nothing had happened. She heard her daughter roll over in bed, which should have eased her mind, but it didn’t. She still got up to check.

She tucked a strand of long dark hair behind her ear and reached for her glasses on the nightstand. Petite in stature, she was no match for an intruder, but she wasn’t sure that would matter if her suspicions were correct.

As she pushed open the door to her daughter’s room, she was greeted by the sweet smell of the toddler’s bedroom. It smelled of baby powder, Playdough, clean laundry, mixed with an underlying tang of urine. Gracie was two and had moved into a big bed, leaving the crib in the corner vacant and ready for her new baby sister, who would be arriving in a few months. Potty training a two year old was often hit or miss, something she was dealing with on a daily basis. She checked her daughter’s sleep diaper, the one that prevented overnight accidents, and then planted a soft kiss on her daughter’s forehead, feeling a tug of emotions sweep through her.

Being a mother was one of the most rewarding things she’d ever done, but it was also one of the most exhausting. When she thought of having children, she didn’t realize she’d be doing most of the child rearing herself. With her husband in the military and her family so far away, she was almost always left to her own devices.

She glanced around each room to make sure nobody had broken into the house before making her way back to her bedroom. Everything looked exactly the same as it did when she went to bed earlier. With a sigh, she climbed back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin despite the warmth of the night, hoping she’d be able to finally get some sleep. She closed her eyes, wishing she could pretend it had just been a dream. Under normal circumstances, she would have brushed it off as a nightmare or just her imagination, but too many other things had happened to allow for that.

Tracy was thirty-seven when she moved into the house in Rutherglen, Virginia. Shortly after moving into the house, strange things began happening to her and her family. At first, she blamed it on the hassles of moving and the sadness of missing her family, but it wasn’t long before she realized it went beyond normal anxiety.

Tracy always knew there was something different about her. Ever since she was a small child, she could pick up on other people’s emotions, sometimes feeling the same sensations they felt. It often left her feeling drained and confused, but it wasn’t something she could talk about. People would think she was crazy.

Needing to supplement her family’s income, Tracy took a babysitting job for a family in town. The first day Tracy babysat for three year-old Chloe, she knew something was wrong. The little girl refused to sleep or play in her bedroom, telling Tracy there was a shadow man in her room. Chloe drew chilling pictures of the man, showing an entity with a dark face and scary eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Tracy asked, leading the girl into her bedroom.

The toddler pointed to her closet, holding tightly to Tracy’s hand.

Tracy sat on the child’s bed and something strange happened to her. Her chest tightened up and she couldn’t breathe. Her heart began racing with anxiety and she couldn’t move or speak. Pictures began popping in her head of a man. He was dressed in the uniform of a Confederate soldier. Tall with dark hair, he stared at Tracy in her mind’s eye, glaring at her menacingly. She managed to break the spell and launched herself out of the room. She and Chloe spent the rest of the day playing in another room.

What happened in that room?

The thought wouldn’t leave her. Were the girl’s stories true? Was there something hiding in the closet in that room?

When the little girl’s mother came home, Tracy filled her in about the day’s events. The woman was shocked. Tracy’s description was identical to what Chloe had already told her. Something triggered in Tracy’s mind as she made a connection. There was a small cemetery near the family’s house.

Could the two be linked?

She took a walk to the cemetery before heading home, feeling the bite of the January wind against her face. The landscape was bleached of color, leaving the landscape trapped in varying shades of brown. Above her, the sky churned with turbulent grey clouds. If the sun was up there, it was hiding in the darkness.

She felt a sense of uneasiness as she approached the cemetery. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something felt wrong. It was almost as if eyes were watching her from somewhere in the distance. She turned and looked around, but saw nothing more than the quiet street behind her.

The cemetery appeared to be a family plot, the kind that people once put on their land. There were only a handful of graves and the plot was overgrown and forgotten. She found herself drawn to a specific grave. It was as though she was being pulled there by an invisible string. When she stopped in front of it, she gasped.

It was the grave of a Confederate soldier.

Could this be the same soldier who lurked in Chloe’s bedroom? She looked around, getting the distinct impression that someone was watching her. The feeling was so strong, she spun around in a slow circle, studying the landscape around her. Nobody was there, at least nobody she could see. Another shiver climbed her spine, but she shrugged it off and started back towards her car.

The experience wasn’t over yet, though. As soon as she got home, more strange things began happening. Items started disappearing in her house and then reappearing in strange locations. She initially blamed it on her daughter, but as the events continued, she had to reconsider. Sometimes the items were left in places where her daughter couldn’t possibly reach. When she started hearing footsteps and having horrific nightmares, she began to wonder if it was something paranormal.

The nightmares came on quickly. She saw images of a dark man, similar to the one Chloe described. The man presented himself to her in shadows. She couldn’t make out any details of his face, but could feel the sense of anger that radiated from him. In her dreams, he approached her bed, looming over her with evil malice. The nightly advances swiftly turned to attacks of terror as invisible hands climbed up her body.

As the days progressed, she began losing track of time, finding herself zoning out for long moments. One afternoon, she found herself sitting in front of the mirror with no knowledge of walking there. When she checked her watch, she saw that nearly an hour had passed since she was last aware of her surroundings.

Things soon got worse. Tracy became despondent, never wanting to leave the house. Even her husband began noticing a difference in her. Being a career Marine, John wasn’t prone to flights of fancy, especially those broaching on paranormal topics, but he couldn’t explain what was happening to his wife.

He dug out an old family Bible and showed it to her, curious to see her reaction. She immediately retreated from him, a strangled growl coming from deep within her chest. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

He knew that Tracy’s life hadn’t been easy. After being sexually abused by her own step-brother as a child, she had a difficult time trusting people. Before they met, she attempted to take her own life over a failed relationship. Allowing other people into her private thoughts wasn’t something that came to her easily, so he didn’t push her initially. He just kept an eye on the situation and kept the worry to himself.

They needed help. That much was clear. As the days passed and the issues became more urgent, he knew they needed to find someone to help them. He was losing her day by day. Sometimes he’d find her just sitting there, staring into space, while the rest of the world moved around her. He would touch her arm and she would look at him as though she’d never seen him before. This wasn’t like Tracy.

“Let’s see if we can find someone to help us,” he suggested, but she balked at the idea. Bringing other people in made it more real somehow. It turned it into something that might have happened into something people would whisper behind her back about. She really wanted to fit into her new community. What would the neighbors think if they saw a troop of paranormal investigators tromping into her house, armed with cameras and paranormal equipment?

John refused to let it go. They couldn’t continue to pretend it wasn’t happening. Every time they looked the other way, things got worse. Besides the attacks on Tracy, they also had a child to consider. If this entity was attacking Tracy, it might also come after their daughter and they couldn’t let that happen. After much discussion, they reached out to a local paranormal group, who promised to come to their house to help.

The group arrived several days later, accompanied by a minister. Tracy told them the story about the mirror and the missing time periods, as well as the experience of being pinned to the bed. The minister pulled out his bible and said a prayer for her. When he asked her to recite it back to him, she couldn’t do it. She could feel the words tangling up inside her mouth, but she couldn’t release them. She began getting hot flashes, feeling as though her skin was being seared off her body. She felt the strongest need to flee the room, as a sense of anger filled her soul.

The minister pulled a chair over in front of her. He was an older man with balding hair and kind eyes.

“Sit down here,” he told her.

She held his gaze for a long moment, wondering how something like this could be happening to her. She was born and raised in a small town. Ghosts weren’t something her family ever discussed, but here she was, just the same.

Reluctantly, she sat on the chair, tucking her feet beneath her.

As the minister pulled another book out of his bag, the energy in the room seemed to change. The air felt thick and unbreathable, as though it was weighted down with sand. She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves.

Hopefully, this would all be over soon.

The minister flipped the book to a specific page and began reading passages from it. She would later learn that he was doing a deliverance, which was the layman’s version of an exorcism. As he continued praying, he called on the entity that was inside her, demanding that it gave its name.

“Tell us your name!” he said in a stern voice.

Tracy stiffened in her chair.

“Tell us your name!” he said louder.

Tracy’s face began to change, the skin molding over features that were no longer hers. The energy in the room grew intense, transforming into something forceful and strong, like an invisible cyclone. She was swept into it, feeling her thoughts fade away to nothing.

A picture flew from the wall and crashed to the floor, followed by the howl of wind against the windows. The room became filled with sounds, as though every entity in the house was smashing against the walls.

Tracy suddenly stiffened in her chair.

“If they go, I go with them,” she said in a deep, grating voice that wasn’t her own.

Everyone in the room paused, casting fearful glances at one another over the top of her head.

John felt his stomach clinch into knots.

What was going on?

The minister pulled a bottle of holy oil from his bag and attempted to anoint her, but she struggled away from him, sending her chair flying halfway across the room. They tried to hold her down, but it took all five of them to manage it, despite the fact that she only weighed a hundred pounds.

John could feel the adrenaline pumping through his body. Something wasn’t right and he knew it. The longer they held her, the more visibly upset she became. He worried that the stress was more than her body could take.

He released his hold on her and sat back on his heels.

“We need to stop,” he told the others.

They exchanged worried glances, all of them thinking similar thoughts.

If not this, then what? What would it take to make this all go away?

As the others released her, the energy in the room softened, like a storm that lost its power. They pulled themselves off the floor and subconsciously retreated away from her, feeling a sense of relief that would later turn to guilt.

The minister stood up, wiping the sweat off his brow. It was clear that this was much more than he was prepared to handle. The group hurriedly gathered their gear, shoving it into their silver cases with an urgency that was undeniable. John watched them rush out the door, feeling a sense of overwhelming helplessness overcome him.

“What now?” he called out to the minister who was halfway to his car.

The man turned to meet his eyes, the expression on his face a mixture of fear and relief.

“I don’t know,” he said simply.

John felt the first pangs of panic come over him. As a Marine, this wasn’t an emotion he was comfortable with. “Will you come back to finish this?” he asked.

“Yes, we’ll be in touch,” the minister said, pushing through the door.

He stood at the door, watching them pile into their vehicles as though they were retreating from a murder scene. He had a feeling this was the last time he’d see them, something that proved to be true.

As the days progressed, Tracy’s emotional well-being became more and more disruptive. Not only was she still losing track of time, finding herself with tremendous gaps in her memory, she was also watching her personality change. Through a mutual friend, they learned about a man named Michael Robishaw who lived nearby in Alexandria, Virginia. Maybe he could help.


Joni Mayhan is a paranormal investigator and the author of 13 paranormal books. To learn more about her, visit her website

Click on the cover to learn more about each book.

Dark and Scary Things- A Sensitive's Guide to the Paranormal World cover Bones in the Basement front cover 3 devils-toy-box-cover-small The_Soul_Collector_Cover_for_Kindle


For the Love of a Cat


I’m not entirely sure how I came to acquire four cats. A big part of it probably comes from my inability to turn away an animal in need, which was the case with all four of my feline friends.

Four years ago, my son came to me, asking to adopt one of his father’s cat’s kittens. We already had two cats, which was my self-established limit, so the answer was no.

There were two black cats in the litter and my son Trevor was pining over the smaller of the two. He gave me weekly updates on how sweet the kitten was and promised he’d take care of it, something I pretty much rolled my eyes at. I’ve been down that road many times before with other cats, guinea pigs, gerbils, pet rats and canines. I knew that the promise was made with good intentions, but would never last longer than a week. Even though I can be a bit of a push-over, I remained firm. No more cats! This changed weeks later when one of the kittens became injured.

The kitten Trevor had been begging me for somehow leaped over a fireplace grate and landed in the hot coals. “Please let me have him. I don’t think they can afford to bring him to the vet,” he pleaded.

I took one look at his sad face, images of a horribly burnt kitten rising in my mind. “Go get in the car,” I told him with a groan and headed over to his father’s house.

As can be expected, the burn wasn’t nearly as bad as my excellent imagination conjured up. His toes were red on one foot and some of the hair was singed, but we packed him up and brought him to the vet anyway.


As I suspected, the kitten was fine. The vet checked him out and didn’t even feel the need to treat his injured paw. It healed within days and I found myself with a new cat.

George settled in quickly, making friends with my other pets. My two older cats, Gatorbug and Skeeter, weren’t initially thrilled with the rambunctious new addition, but they adapted.


As George grew, we became aware of his affinity for high places. We never knew where we would find him.

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He even became friends with my parrot and would sleep on top of his cage. 004 DSCN1887

As my world became more and more wrapped around the paranormal world, I began to notice that George was picking up on the ghosts too. As I’d sense something moving around my bedroom, I could watch George as he scoped them out. Sometimes, he tried to attack them, getting up on top of my dresser to bat at them.

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When a tiny orphaned squirrel showed up on my doorstep on Mother’s Day of 2012, George was delighted with the addition. Wanting to keep Skippy the Squirrel separated from George was almost impossible. I’d find George hanging out on his cage at every turn.


George’s comical personality was evident from the beginning. It was apparent that he was born with a sense of humor and used it often, providing us with many laughs. When my neighbor brought over her new puppy for me to see, George was obviously confused. “What the hell is this thing?” he seemed to be saying as he sniffed at the small shivering creature.

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George saw me through so many tough times. He was always there for me, no matter what. He would pin me down and wash my face with his scratchy tongue and lavish me with purrs.


After the death of my beloved Skeeter, I found myself back down to three cats. Skeeter was truly a mentor for George, teaching him important “cat things,” like how to always cover the food dish after he’s done eating.

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In 2013, my son and I moved to western Massachusetts, so we could be closer to his new college. The pets made the move easily, especially George. He scoped out every window and began begging to get outside. While I’ve always spoiled my pets beyond belief, I couldn’t imagine letting him outside where he could be hit by a car or eaten by a coyote.

My “no more cats” rule took a backseat once again a few months after we moved. I often drive to Indiana to see my family. On one of my visits, I was presented with another sad story that I couldn’t resist (yes, I am a push-over).

Jack and Rose were orphaned at five days old after their mother was hit and killed by a car. My sister bottle-fed them until they were old enough to eat on their own, but she was concerned about where they would end up. The people who brought them to her wanted to keep them outdoors as “barn cats.” My sister knew that these tiny little kittens wouldn’t last long without a mother to teach them the perils of outdoor life. She begged me to bring them home with me, knowing they’d get a good home. As soon as I met them, I fell in love in an instant.


As soon as I brought them home, I saw a side of George that I didn’t expect. Instead of hissing at the kittens, which is common cat behavior, he took them under his wing, becoming a surrogate parent to them. He bathed them, showed them where the litter box was, and like his mentor before him, demonstrated the importance of covering their food dish after eating. The three became inseparable.


In March of 2013, my older cat Gatorbug went into a series of seizures, possibly due to his diabetes, which I’d been treating for two years. There was nothing the vet could do. As soon as he came out of one seizure, he went back into another. She sedated him, but it was evident that he was beyond saving. We had to put him to sleep. I was devastated by the loss, especially coming only a year after losing Skeeter. I don’t think most people understand the bond some of us have with our animals, but the loss was like having a child ripped away from me.


George quickly became king of the castle, now rising to the rank of the eldest cat in the household. He took this role seriously, taking good care of his charges. He treated Rose and Jack like his off-spring. I’ve never seen a cat take to other cats as quickly as he did. I have to wonder if Skeeter taught him this as a kitten. Skeeter was always the “house ambassador.” If someone came to visit, he was first at the door to greet them, something George began doing as well. You couldn’t come to my house without being thoroughly investigated and welcomed by the official door greeter.

Even though I still mourned the loss of Skeeter and Gatorbug, I was comfortable being back down to three cats again. That lasted a year. During another trip to Indiana, my step-mother found a two-week old kitten in the middle of the road by her house. I offered to bottle feed him, since there really wasn’t anyone else who could do it, and ended up coming home with Charlie.

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George took to Charlie just like he took to Rose and Jack before him. The three of them adopted their young charge and welcomed him into the household. As soon as Charlie was old enough to eat on his own, George quickly taught him how to cover his food dish after eating, a quirk I’ve never grown tired of laughing at. I’ll often find the oddest things on top of the food dish. Sometimes it will be a dish towel, other times it will be a scrap of paper, but George is meticulous about making sure the food is properly hidden.

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Life with George can be unpredictable. He still loves to sit in high places, something he passed on to Rose, as well. I never know where I’m going to find them.

Lately, as the weather has gotten cooler, he’s taken to sleeping under the covers with me. As soon as I get into bed, he jumps up and paws at the blanket until I lift it and let him under. He quickly finds his favorite spot behind my knees, as I lie on my side, and cuddles up. Moments later, I’ll feel the vibration of his purrs against the backs of my legs, something that makes me smile.

A few days ago, I noticed that George was straining in the litter box. Most people wouldn’t give it much thought, but I know my animals well. I work from home, so I’m with them 24/7. In fact, sometimes days go by where I don’t see another living human being besides quick visits from my son on his way to and from class and work. These animals are my entire world. I ran out and purchased some Petramalt for him, thinking that he was constipated. I had just switched them to a more nutrient dense dry food and thought maybe that was the culprit. He seemed to be better, but I still kept an eye on him. Several days later, he was doing it again. This time I didn’t attempt to treat him myself. I put a call into my vet.

I really didn’t have the money for the veterinarian expense. As a writer, I live on my book sales and they hadn’t been great for several months now. My latest book didn’t take off like my previous books, which left me scrapping for money every month.

The vet did a series of tests and concluded that George was having issues with his urinary tract. Having spent nearly 30 years working in the pet industry, I was familiar with cystitis. Some cats metabolize food differently from others, creating crystals in their urine which ultimately clumps together and causes a blockage. The vet didn’t think he was completely blocked and sent me home with medication to help him recover. I had high hopes for him, but it wasn’t the end of our journey with this issue. I brought him back to the vet the next day for a bladder check and she gave me the bad news. He was totally blocked.


That meant an emergency trip to the animal hospital in Springfield. I called my son at work and asked him to come home to go with me, since George is really his cat. We made it to the hospital within an hour. The good news was that it was fixable. The bad news was that it was going to cost more money than I had.

I think many pet parents are faced with this issue at least once in their lives. How do you come up with the money? What price is too much for someone you love? Some people might say, “It’s just an animal,” but mine are more than that to me. They have a soul. They have emotions and feelings. Most of all, they have my heart.

Thankfully, my son had a high enough limit on his credit card that we were able to charge it. Since he’s a student, he doesn’t get charged interest. Unfortunately, he needs that money for college. We charged it and gave each other long looks. “How are we going to pay for it?” he asked. I shrugged, but tried to keep the faith.

“Something will work out. I’ll figure it out,” I told him.

Never in my life did I think I’d beg the public for money, but I really didn’t have any choice. I set up a Gofundme fundraising campaign and posted it, putting my pride on the back burner. One of my friends reminded me that I often help other people with their campaigns and it’s true. I’ve also sent many books to be used for fundraiser gift baskets and raffles. I’ve also been writing this blog for the past few years, something I do not get paid for.

I felt a little better about the decision, but still have a long way to go. The campaign has raised $820, which is about $1300 short of what I still need. Maybe I’ll set up a ghost hunt or paranormal presentation with proceeds going towards his care. I’ll figure it out. I have faith.

In the meantime, George is still in ICU, recovering from his ordeal. The doctor called during the middle of the night after they finished the procedure to tell me that it basically went okay. George struggled with the IV catheter, forcing them to have to repeat the process ($$) and he managed to pull out the IV delivering fluids to his body, as well. He had a bad reaction to the sedative they gave him. Instead of knocking him out, it increased his anxiety. I can only imagine what my poor kitty went through. The doctor changed him to another sedative and it seems to be working well.

The VCU in Springfield, Massachusetts was absolutely wonderful. The staff was was compassionate and friendly, and the doctors were phenomenal. The emergency veterinarian assigned to our case was a man named Dr. Radu Nastase, DVM. In all my years on this planet, I’ve never met a doctor like him. Instead of being the starched collar type of doctor I expected, he was down to earth and charming. He took his time with us, not checking his watch once, and explained every point of the process, insuring we understood it. He made us feel like old friends coming in for a visit and he made us laugh. We went in somber and walked out laughing. I’m not sure how that was even possible, but he turned around a really traumatic situation and made us feel comfortable. Trevor and I were laughing so hard, we had to stand in the hall for a moment and compose ourselves before walking into the somber waiting room. That takes a special kind of talent.

Trevor and I went down to visit George the night after they inserted the catheter. He was wild and determined to get OUT, so we cut our visit short. It was good to see him, but I feel like I probably caused more harm than good with the visit. He wasn’t crazy about the cone, as you can tell.


Friday, I got the call that he was ready to be picked up. While he was at the VCA, he managed to rip his catheter out twice, as well as removing his IV several times too, even with a cone on his head. I felt bad for the staff, knowing how feisty George can be. I rushed down as soon as possible, knowing he’d be happy to be back home. I can’t say enough nice things about the VCA staff. They were phenomenal. I tried to remember their names, but most of them left me by the time I made it home. Emanuelle was the clerk who helped us at the counter and Tyler was our vet tech. Everyone else was great too. Thank you VCA for all the love and kindness you showed my George.

George is back home now. I’ve secluded him in my bedroom to keep an eye on him. He has a case of his new food on order as well as a water fountain, which encourages cats with urinary tract issues to drink more liquids. In hindsight, I really wish I would have paid better attention to his diet earlier. I’ve always fed my cats premium food, but didn’t bother with the urinary tract diets because I didn’t think it would ever happen to me. I’ve since switched all my cats to canned food only and will prevent the others from going through what George endured.

Here’s George resting on my bed. The first thing he did when he got home was ripped his IV bandage off and licked his wound until it started bleeding. I held him down and put another bandage on him that he hasn’t managed to dislodge yet.


Below is a link to my Gofundme campaign. If you can’t help, I completely understand, but if you can, know it will be greatly appreciated by this starving artist/writer.

Keeping Yourself Protected in the Paranormal World


Like many others, I dove into the paranormal world head first. Like a foolish cliff diver leaping off a ledge, I didn’t look before I jumped. I just  took the plunge and paid dearly for it later by picking up a negative attachment.

Paranormal investigating isn’t a fun hobby, something you do with the same irrelevance as bowling or playing a round of golf. In many ways, it should be considered more like social work in a very bad neighborhood.

When we go into haunted locations, we are dealing with an assortment of invisible entities. Some could be elderly ladies trapped in a world they can’t escape, while others might be pedophiles and rapists looking for their next victims. The problem is: you can’t immediately tell the difference. This is why it’s so important to keep yourself protected. You wouldn’t skydive without a parachute, so why would you tackle unseen entities without some sort of protection?

Beyond picking up a paranormal hitchhiker, there are other factors you might face. Entities often use our energy like fuel. If you aren’t protected, you might find yourself with a Paranormal Hangover, (click the title to read more about this) which could leave you drained for days.

Below are some of the methods of keeping yourself protected:

A Strong Mindset


We are made of vibrations. In fact, everything in our world vibrates. Some things vibrate at a high speed, while others vibrate much slower. When you are feeling down, your vibration is low and your resistance is diminished. This completely jeopardizes your entire defense system. Make sure you are at the top of your game before you take on the paranormal world. You might be coming in contact with something quite powerful, so be prepared.

As a sensitive, I am prone to getting paranormal hitchhikers. They see me and understand in an instant that I can sense them too, so they follow me. Sometimes, I think they just want to experience the comfort of human companionship, but other times they have darker agendas in mind.

My journey into the paranormal world started in 2009 when I began working on my mediumistic abilities. I knew I could communicate with the dead and began working on it in earnest. By 2011, I was advancing in my abilities and became even more visible in the paranormal world. After a heartbreaking break-up, I found myself in a depressed state of mind. Someone invited me to go on a ghost hunt and I went, thinking it would improve my mood. As a result, I picked up the worst attachment I’ve ever encountered, which I document in my book The Soul Collector. When I tell you to have a strong mindset, I’m talking from experience.

A Healthy Body


Since we are vibrational creatures, it’s important that we maintain our physical bodies. Eating healthy foods, getting enough exercise and rest are important for us. If your body isn’t strong, it often affects your mindset, weakening your defenses. If you’ve come into contact with a negative entity that follows you home, the first thing it does is isolate you from other people. This often diminishes your access to sunlight, lowering your defenses even further. Taking Vitamin D supplements helps, as well as insuring you are getting outside for ample periods of time. Vitamin B complexes often helps with mood and attitude too, but can’t compare to eating a diet filled with plenty of leafy greens.



Have you ever been around someone who simply radiates negativity? After you walk away, you might feel a residue of that hostility clinging to you, dragging you down too. The truth is: we often absorb other people’s energy. Whether they mean to or not, they spread their discontent around like someone scattering seeds. If some of it lands on you, you begin sprouting the same bad emotions. The best way to get rid of this unwanted energy is to learn how to ground yourself.

How to Ground:

There are many methods for grounding, but my favorite way is to imagine myself as a tree. I close my eyes and envision a pure white light radiating above me. With every breath, I pull this white light into my body through the top of my head. As I exhale, I push the black negative energy downward into the ground where it can be reclaimed and recycled by the earth. In the beginning, it might take you a few minutes to master this technique, but after a while it will become second nature.

Other methods of grounding: take a shower and imagine the water washing away all traces of the negative emotion or hug a tree and allow the powerful energy of nature to cleanse you.



Most paranormal protection practices rely heavily on visualization. Most people don’t find this to be easy to do. It takes a lot of practice. If you don’t succeed the first time, don’t give up. For many of us, this ability takes weeks, if not months to master.

The principal of shielding involves using your own body’s energy to form a protective barrier around you. Make this shield so strong that nothing can penetrate it, keeping you cocooned inside, safe and sound.

How to Shield

Methods vary from person to person, but this is how I create a shield. I envision a warm golden ball of light that burns with the intensity of the sun. I hold it between my hands and allow it to grow larger and larger until it encapsulates my entire body. Once it is large enough, I say a prayer, asking that this shield keeps me protected for the next twenty-four hours. Some people have better success with this by watching a Guided Meditation. You can find many of these online.

The video below takes a slightly different approach, but I’ve found it to be helpful:


Some people carry religious medallions or gemstones with them when they encounter the paranormal world. While they do carry metaphysical properties that can assist in your protection, they also act as “touchstones.” When you touch them, it gives you a sense of comfort, often activating the abilities you already possess. You think, “I am protected,” and the intent of your thought sends a message out into the Universe, making it happen.

Gemstones for Protection

I often carry a combination of gemstones, depending on what I feel I will need. Any of the stones listed above act as protection stones. You might also combine them with healing stones, such as Amethyst or Rose Quartz to extend their abilities.

Being safe while delving into the paranormal world could change your life. All it takes to ruin everything is one bad situation, one moment when your guard is down.

This is just a sampling of paranormal protection. More methods can be found in my book, Dark and Scary Things – A Sensitive’s Guide to the Paranormal World.

Joni Mayhan is a paranormal investigator and the author of 13 paranormal books. To learn more about her, visit her website

Click on the cover to learn more about each book.

Dark and Scary Things- A Sensitive's Guide to the Paranormal World cover Bones in the Basement front cover 3 devils-toy-box-cover-small The_Soul_Collector_Cover_for_Kindle


The Power of Thoughts in the Paranormal World


Julie was intuitive and could feel the energy long before she walked into the haunted building. Someone told her that the entity might be demonic, so she steeled herself, trying to work up the nerve to go inside. She knew that demons weren’t something she should mess with, but she was excited to experience it firsthand. She just hoped it wouldn’t hurt her.

Does this scenario sound familiar? As more and more people delve into the world of the paranormal, they often find themselves in situations they aren’t prepared to handle. I experienced this first hand when I investigated a location that was known to have negative energy. I ended up with a negative attachment that stuck with me for months and was the subject of my book The Soul Collector.

Most people aren’t aware of how powerful their thoughts are. Just thinking something fuels it with power and gives it the momentum to become a reality.

Think about it in regards to your everyday life. When you roll out of bed on a Monday morning, do you groan, dreading the day ahead of you? If you do, you will probably have the day you envisioned. Your mind latches onto this conception and turns a thought into reality. You will probably have a rotten day.

If you roll out of bed and see the day as a blank canvas, filled with opportunities, looking past the obligations and requirements you must fulfill, your day will go much better. Much of this is due to the Law of Vibration and the Law of Attraction. Everything in this world is made of vibrations.The chair you sit in, the floor you stand on, even the thoughts that ramble through your mind all vibrate. When you put a negative thought out into the Universe, it acts like a blueprint. Everything else will be built on top of it and you will draw in more negative things. If you aren’t grateful for everything the Universe has given you, why would it give you more?

In the paranormal world, thoughts are compounded by the fact that the entities often know what you are thinking. Yes, they can hear your thoughts. That’s how they communicate with one another and, often, with us as well.

Imagine walking up to a school yard bully and telling him that he is strong and unbeatable. It will pump him up and make him feel even stronger than he actually is. This is the same concept as walking into a haunted location and believing it is infested with demonic activity. Chances are, the entity inside is just a human soul who has a bad attitude. When you give him the title of “demon” you infuse him with power. You give him ideas and the free will to do what he would like. If you fear that he might follow you home, it acts like an invitation.

Fear is a tremendous motivator in the paranormal world. It feeds them, acting like super-powered rocket fuel. Allow yourself to be afraid and you are giving them the ability to scare you even more. Promote them with a higher ranking title, like “Demon” and you are empowering them to be stronger. Give them ideas, like following you home or hurting you, and you are giving them a to-do list of things to accomplish.

Most of the strongest methods of paranormal protection revolve around your thoughts and intent. You can carry as many crucifixes and gemstones as you want, but if you don’t believe they are protecting you, you are doing nothing more than carrying useless objects. Protection items, if fully empowered by your beliefs, act like touch stones. You touch them and it reminds you that you are safe, which means that the real catalyst behind the protection comes from inside you. The stones and medallions don’t protect you, YOU protect you.

In Julie’s case, if she is fearful of the location and believes demons loom inside the haunted location, she shouldn’t go inside. She should start with some locations that aren’t as volatile, places where she can learn slowly. Jumping into the fire will only get her burned. In addition, her fear will fuel the entity inside and could make it a dangerous situation for everyone else on the investigation. It will act like a snowball rolling down a hill. As soon as the entity understands that it has so much power, it will get stronger and stronger until someone ends up getting hurt.

Paranormal protection isn’t something anyone should take lightly, especially if you are sensitive to their energy. They know this too. They see you shining brightly. Your energy is like nectar to them. They will do anything for a sample. They might even follow you home.

Keep this in mind during the October season especially. The veil is thinner this time of the year, giving the dead a freer range to inhibit our world. Be safe, be smart, and keep your thoughts positive. It will make a difference. Trust me.

You can find more information about paranormal protection in my book Dark and Scary Things – A Sensitive’s Guide to the Paranormal World.

Joni Mayhan is a paranormal investigator and the author of 13 paranormal books. Click on the cover to learn more about each book.

Dark and Scary Things- A Sensitive's Guide to the Paranormal World cover Devil'sToy Box  bones-in-the-basement-cover-small  The_Soul_Collector_Cover_for_Kindle