Dreamt I was in a very strange little town with Ron. The cars were like amusement park Grand Prix autos only without the track: more like Flintstones only they looked like little Minis or MGs. I had to walk my silver one up a steep hill to get to the hotel. The redhead behind me was laughing as she had to do the same. Once at the hotel Ron and I were sitting on the couch in the parlor with some other guests. It seemed like we were listening to stories or something. I was dressed in a long white nightgown and a red velvet robe. Some man, and I think I know him, accosted me right there on the couch in front of everybody. I was screaming, he was laughing, and nobody seemed to care.
Available as an ebook, soon to be released in paperback, Pottsgrove Manor and Saint Michael's Cemetery is another Pennsylvania picture...
A crystal junkie, some of my favorites have come from India. I recently discovered Himalya Quartz on Ebay and ordered the top pink and gre...
Sir Frankie Crisp wears Mummy's sixties costume pearls. He's not falling for the drugged cream. He said, too bad, witch. That bitch ...