AN EXCERPT FROM: " IT.....CAIN'T BE!" AFRO-AMERICAN STORIES OF FRIGHT FROM THE OLD SOUTH.

"It pulled Charlie boys torn open bloody guts all over the ground,like a long bloody rope,and it just ATE! And ATE! And ATE! Charlie boy screamed for his mama and God,until he just died with this....this...thang eating and staring on at me,with Charlie boys bloody guts hangin outta it's mouth.I...got up from the ground,started to run.It got behind me,and...and....Big Henry jumped in front of it,and then one of em,grabbed Big Henry,with its big claws around Big Henry's head and pulled,as another one of em,held Big Henry's legs.It yanked Big Henry's head off,with Big Henry's bloody spinal cord still connected."



ORDER YOUR COPY *Afro-American Stories of Fright from the Old South

EYEWITNESS

Various individuals have E-mailed me with stories about an eerie phenomenon,that's showing up in households all across America.

1.A man in D.C. said he open the door of a dark closet,and was met with a pair of disembodied piercing eyes staring back at him.The small closet was searched for hidden doors,but nothing was found? The closet has been nailed shut and is no longer used.

2.A Indiana woman woke up one night terrified to see at the foot of her bed,the same pair of piercing eyes staring on at her.The woman and her husband now sleep with the bedroom light on.

3.A family in Chicago returning home to a dark house,witness several pairs of disembodied eyes staring at them before they entered to turn on the lights.The shook up family has put the house up for sale.

SERVING MY COUNTRY:DIARY OF A BLACK INFANTRY SOLDIER PART I

First Sergeant Negro Corps
Shenandoah Valley Virginia
June 12th 1863


AN EXCERPT FROM MY BOOK: *Afro-American Stories Of Fright From The Old South


ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

Midday noon summertime up to thee southern belle farmhouse,she stands wit her fine fancy pink ballroom dress and summer blue bonnet,that she in probably wore to one of them there high furlutin fancy white folk drankin wang dangs.Since thee killin start up,Miss southern bell stands out in front of her big white house,wit her big soup pot and wooden spoon.Wit not a sparkle in her pale sad po sad grievin face and dead blue eyes.Me and thee boys soldier on up to her lookin like what the cat drug in,a sight to see.Miss southern belle wit out a word.I be brave and walks up wit my blue cap pressed up against my chest,up to her I says; "Ma'am....we be powerfully hungri, and I be wonderin if in you can spare me and my boys here,ah lil somethin,thank ya ma'am." Wit out a sparkle in her dead blue eyes from under her fancy blue bonnet.She raise up the big wooden spoon,dips down deep into thee big stew pot wit it smell of cagy onion and pink veri rare hunks of meats.Me and my colored boys holds out our blue fightin caps.She fills it up to thee rim,wit thee cagy onion juice drippin down on our black shakin hands.Me and the boys sit down on thee red clay dirt ground listennin to our bellies talk-bark-cuss-laugh from three days of starving.My hunk of cagy,I bites down on some fat wit a piece of coarse hair stickin from outta my rare hunk.I picks it from my teeth,cause my belly be now playin a soft tune of good belchin replace thee cussin.Me and my boys gits up from our southern picnic wit a friendly bow of thank ya-thank ya vari much to Miss southern belle fur the thee fine cagy viddles.My boys and I roam back to our detail of clearin up our and they dead boys.But now our bellies are full wit hunks.We all look back starin and feelin a lil better now,thankin there be still some good folks around.We stare on wit lil smiles lookin at Miss southern belle and thee empty stew pot walking inside her big white farmhouse and close the door.