Tag Archives: Martha Wickham

Eternally Beautiful Summer Nights Blitz

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Horror / Paranormal

Date Published: 09-08-2025

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 Experience the eternal, beautiful dread of summer nights, where every shadow
holds a story and the past refuses to stay buried.

 
Welcome back to the
world of *Summer Scares*, where the warmth of the season does nothing to
banish the chill of the supernatural. In this pulse-pounding fourth volume,
Martha Wickham weaves five tales of dolls, deadly secrets, and the ghosts that
glitter in the darkness.
Inside, you will encounter the terror of:
Cursed
Heirlooms: A vintage collector doll named Reiny uses an old, randomly chiming
grandfather clock as her only way to communicate, and you’ll find out just how
protective (and creepy) she can be in “Girl Protected,” “Reiny’s Clock
Terror,” and “Reiny’s Last Guardian.”
*Glittering Ghosts: When Felicity
moves into an apartment, she finds glitter that won’t go away and hears
tinkling bells—a terrifying trail left behind by the ghost of Lisa and
an important clue for a murderer on the run in “The Glitter Veil.”
*The
Dollhouse Trap: Curious teens fix up an old dollhouse found in an abandoned
Victorian, only to start a haunting that communicates its terrible ending.
When Terri blames the trapped spirits for an accident, he must compromise with
the ghosts to escape their approaching wrath.
These are stories for your
eternal summer—a chilling journey where the dolls are more than just
toys, the hauntings are inescapable, and every beautiful summer night ends
with a scream.

 

Eternally Beautiful Summer Nights tablet
Excerpt

 

Reiny’s Clock Terror

 

The grandfather clock chimed loudly and could be heard from Sara’s
bedroom. It was closed and she ran to it. It said nine o’clock, but it was the
middle of the afternoon. Sara Greyston wondered why it rang when it
hadn’t in over a year. Her parents heard it too. The clock was very old
and was built by her great-grandfather, George. She moved the arms to three
o’clock. There wasn’t much hope that it was going to work right. She
wasn’t sure what time it was.
She ran into her mother’s
bedroom. “Can we take it and get it fixed?”
“I
don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s only for show,” her
father said.
When she got to her room she checked the time on her cell
phone. It said ten am. Her watch was right, but she never wore it. The time on
her computer also said ten am.
“Did the power go out?” she
asked her mother.
“No,” her mother responded. “I
don’t think so.”
Maybe that was it, and she shrugged. It was an old
clock and an old house, and it had been in the family for at least a century.
She had just graduated from high school and had time to do what she wanted.
All she really wanted to know was when her friends were going to the beach and
which school she should go to in the fall.
Just as she feared, the
grandfather clock randomly chimed. She sat up in bed and checked her watch. It
said one in the morning. It was so cold she got up to get hot tea and turn on
the heat. Afterwards, she lay down and checked her watch. It still said one in
the morning. In the morning, she would have to reset it. Lying there, she
suddenly heard small footsteps in the attic. Reiny hadn’t seen that doll
since Mary died, and the doll was locked with a bolt so that it couldn’t
get out. The protector doll had become a threat in high school a couple of
years ago.
Come early morning, she grabbed the keys and unlocked the
attic door. There near the door was Reiny. Her lifelike eyes were staring at
Sara. She picked her up, and the clock chimed. It was annoying, but somebody
in the family had made it. She took the doll downstairs and shut the door
behind her. She had planned to lock it up somewhere still.
She sat in the
kitchen eating her eggs. From the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she
saw the doll turn its head toward her. Her mom entered the kitchen.
“Mom,
what’s the name of the relative that built the big broken clock?”
Sara asked.
“George Greyson. He was a clock-maker and the original
owner of this house. He was great at it. I’m sure there are pictures and
tools he used to use up in the attic,” she answered sipping her
coffee.
“I’ll definitely go up there,” Sara
said. Her mom noticed how the doll sat in her green and white dress near
Sara.
“That’s Reiny,” Sara said. “I believe she
may be controlling the clock.”

 

 

About the Author

 Martha Wickham

 Martha Wickham has a knack for finding the ghosts hidden in the dust. A
lifelong student of the arcane and the artistic, Martha has an Associate’s
Degree and professional writing credentials, but she honed her skills in the
thrilling shadows of screenwriting and horror. Martha lives for the secrets
that only come out “By Dawn”. You can discover more of her work, including her
newest audiobooks, at your favorite retailer.

Contact Link
Purchase Links

 

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By Dawn: The 13th House Blitz

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Horror/paranormal

Date Published: 11-22-2025

Nine Tales. Nine Secrets. All Before Dawn.

In the shadow of Bloomstone
Manor, a dilapidated estate hauntingly known as “Lily Lane”, the veil between
the living and the dead is impossibly thin. This collection of nine paranormal
mystery stories explores inheritances, dark family legacies, and spectral
demands, all bound by the Manor’s enduring, dark influence.
This
Halloween, meet the three students who dare to knock on the door of “The 13th
House”—a black, unnumbered prison that holds the sinister secrets of the
past. Their trick-or-treating leads them to a terrifying collection of
artifacts: a bent spoon, a rusted key, and a doll’s eye. Every artifact is a
clue left by a child who vanished, whispering pleas for help from beyond the
grave. The teens must solve the mystery and free the spirits before the
night’s magic fades, or they might become the next secret the old house
keeps.
Every house has a debt. Every ghost has a tether. Uncover the
restless spirits and broken promises that demand attention and resolution.
When the clock strikes dawn, the secrets settle back into the dust and the
lilies—and it may be too late.
By Dawn: The 13th House tablet
 
Excerpt

 

Night of the Spirits 

 

 

Anthony pushed through the thick brush that had swallowed the old path. His
friends told him the house was hidden somewhere ahead, rumored to be haunted.
When he finally saw it, the place looked half-demolished, with climbing walls
that had paint curling and peeling. Yet every window was perfectly intact.

He
opened the front door. Stale, cold air rushed out, thick with dust. His
footsteps echoed through the empty living room.As he moved down the hallway,
the front door suddenly slammed. He spun around and ran back, and in that
moment, he was sure he heard a whisper: Sam.The door wouldn’t budge. He
was trapped. He tried the windows too none of them opened.

Again, the
whisper came, louder this time. Sam.

“Who’s Sam? I’m not
Sam!” he shouted.

A hiss answered him, followed by footsteps
upstairs. Heart pounding, he raced up the stairs. At the top, he stopped and
listened. The footsteps were clear, moving steadily into an empty room. He
followed them.

Moonlight spilt across the floor through a bare window.
The invisible footsteps crossed the room and came to a stop at the closet.
Inside, there was only a small box containing a single book. The spirits
wanted him to find it; maybe it would explain everything.

He lifted the
book. It was an old, battered ledger. Inside, a name was written: Samuel. He
began to read.I made a promise to the spirits trapped here. One of them is
buried downstairs. I swore I would help free them with my rituals. I study the
occult, and they own a golden statue worth a fortune. It must be used in the
ritual. If I hide it now, I can return for it later. No one alive will see me
take it.

Anthony reached deeper into the box and pulled out a loose page,
a torn sheet from another book. It carried a chant and the instructions for a
ritual to free spirits.A freezing gust swept through the room. Then a booming
voice declared:“Complete the ritual by dawn, or be trapped here
forever!”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked the
spirit.

Once again, he heard footsteps descending the stairs and followed
them. Near the kitchen, the basement door creaked open. He cautiously stepped
down the dark basement steps and saw the cloud-like spirit hovering over a
crypt in the floor, where it looked like a ritual had been started over
someone’s grave. Candles and matches were scattered nearby.

 

About the Author

 

Martha Wickham

 

Martha Wickham has a knack for finding the
ghosts hidden in the dust. A lifelong student of the arcane and the artistic,
Martha has an Associate’s Degree and professional writing credentials, but she
honed her skills in the thrilling shadows of screenwriting and horror. Martha
lives for the secrets that only come out “By Dawn”. You can discover more of
her work, including her newest audiobooks, at your favorite retailer.
Contact Link
Purchase Links

 

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The Haunted Rosebuds Virtual Book Tour

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Circle of Roses, Book 3

Paranormal

Date Published: July 22, 2024

Narrator: Kelly McGaw

Run Time: 4 hours 13 minutes

 

 

Lana is a psychic ghost hunter working in the Circle of Roses shop. She
wants to help solve a case when a man’s wife leaves him because of
ghosts tormenting her in the attic, but she ends up with a haunting dilemma
of her own. Terra’s ghost is haunting one of her teens in her small
townhouse.

Sylvie and Dana are teenagers who just want to live but when Sylvie’s
room is repeatedly thrashed, psychic Rose is called to investigate. She
knows Terra from way back and thinks she wants more revenge, but why is the
other teen, Dana, not affected? Sylvie and Dana have their own group called
the Rosebuds. Started when they were kids, they wind up the only two in it.
When old enough they will go into training to become real psychics. As for
this story it is their first everything, except their first time seeing a
ghost. How long can Terra’s ghost be kept a secret from Dana? And will
Rose be able to solve both cases at once?

The Haunted Rosebuds audio tablet

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About the Author

Martha Wickham

Martha has studied writing with Writer’s Digest and has an
associate’s degree in Social Services. She has also written poems and
songs and even studied screenwriting and horror. She still writes and likes
getting writing prompts. Her favorite author is VC Andrews. If you purchase
and read Martha’s books, a review on this website will be greatly
appreciated.

 

Contact Links

Website

Website

Twitter: @MarthaWickham

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Youtube

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

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Audible

Spotify

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Tyra of the Shadows Week Blast

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Child of Frankenstein’s Bride, Book 5

 

Paranormal / Historical

Date Published: 07-23-2024

 

 

Will Tyra ever get out of the shadows?

Growing up isn’t easy for Tyra Smythe. Especially when you grow up in a
house with shadows. She and her friend Evelyn conjure up the ghost of a girl
who lived there 100 years ago and the mystery of the funhouse begins. While
her parents are away in England, the ghost Abby, begins to haunt. When more
ghosts appear at Tyra’s fourteenth birthday party, word that the house is
haunted gets out and draws unwanted attention to it.

Shortly Margaret has decided it is a good idea to make her home an
attraction for some extra money. It is 1929 and more haunted houses are
needed, the house is named the Shadows and creepy renovations are started
all at the expense of Tim Terror and his haunted attractions company.

As Abby haunts the halls and stairs, her hunger grows. Her legend says she
died there and appears during a full moon, and she even has a museum room.
Abby’s heart is close to Tyra, but they must move on though they feel at
home again once the remodel of The Shadows is complete.

Will she ever be able to leave, or will it leave her?

 

 

EXCERPT

 

“Don’t give him your address. I wonder if they can help you
find your father,” Evelyn said.

“They won’t. Jack isn’t any help. I’ll just look
myself. I’ll think about going to the police. We don’t have a
phone. I don’t like this.”

When they got home, it felt much cooler in the house. They grabbed drinks
and the telephone directory and went upstairs. Tyra did find a Nathaniel
Johnston—she actually found two of them. “Evelyn, another big
house to go look at later. I found Nathaniel.”

“Good.” Evelyn took everything out of her bag. They laid the
blue velvet table cover, the candles, and the Ouija board in front of them
on the floor.

“I’ll go get a couple candlesticks. We will try a séance
and use the board tonight,” Tyra said.

“Hattie, where are the candlesticks?” Tyra called.

“In the hallway by the kitchen!” Hattie answered.

She and Evelyn raced there and grabbed two.

Hattie appeared. “Be careful with those. Matches are in the
kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Tyra responded. “Have you ever seen a ghost in
here?”

“No, never,” Hattie responded.

“Hopefully, we will,” Tyra said as she headed for the kitchen.
She grabbed the matches.

“We won’t light them now, not until tonight,” she told
Evelyn.

“My mom is coming by in the morning to come and get me,” Evelyn
said.

Tyra nodded. “We’re going to try a séance. I read about
them in the paper.”

“I don’t want you to do that. I told you I haven’t seen
any ghosts here. When the wind blows, you can hear it loud. This is an old
house. Your dad said it was built in the 1790s,” Hattie said.

“We’ll just try. It probably won’t work.” Tyra went
to her room as Evelyn followed.

“Is it even worth the time?” Evelyn asked.

“No, but this is.” Tyra pulled out a rolled-up Ouija board that
looked like a map. She took the planchette out of Evelyn’s purse.
“I didn’t tell Hattie we had this.” They sat on the floor
and felt the beautiful soft velvet.

About the Author

Martha Wickham

Martha has studied writing with Writer’s Digest and has an
associate’s degree in Social Services. She has also written poems and
songs and even studied screen writing and horror. She still writes and likes
getting writing prompts. Her favorite author is VC Andrews. If you purchase
and read Martha’s books a review on this web site will be greatly
appreciated. She can also be found at www.marthawickham.com.

 

Contact Links

Website

Twitter @MarthaWickham

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

Smashwords

 

 

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Beware of a Cursed Forest Week Blitz

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Misty Falls, Book 3

 

Contemporary Fantasy Fiction

Date Published: 09-19-2023

 

 

How long can a magic ring last?

Long enough to get Violet through the worst, then send her through it
again. When her new husband and his friends go grave robbing, they dig up a
legend. They recover a thousand-year-old ring with a curse. When she finds
it she uses it to her advantage like the last ring she owned, and her
husband confesses to her how he obtained it. The magic flees from the ring
after killing the people it sees deserving, but when it attacks her, Violet
knows what she must do. It’s go back to grandma’s, then Misty
Falls.

When she goes back her curiosity gets the best of her and she goes with a
friend to investigate a murder in the haunted forest. Soon the forest is
haunting her, and she is met with the killer, who wants more young blood.
Though born on Friday the 13th, she believes in herself. Is she able to
escape a streak of bad luck?

 

 

Excerpt

Curtis and his friends split up into three motel rooms ten minutes away
from the cemetery they wanted to rob. They couldn’t bring them on the
plane, so they had to go to a local store and get a shovel for each of them.
The plan was to rob Jessie’s grave first and look for the famous ring
that was fashioned in hell. “I want to see this ring,” one of
them said. “I hope it doesn’t say made in hell or I will
run.” They snickered at his joke except for Curtis. All their rooms
were right next to each other. After hitting Jessie’s grave that night
they would look through other graves and the mausoleum afterwards because
there was no digging with those, then they’d go for the bigger graves,
because the families may have had more money to pay for them.

After a quick dinner it was darkening. “Can
we go now?” Curtis asked.

“It’s supposed to be late, but we will
all take the rental car and be there in about thirty minutes. It’s
getting darker at this point. I don’t think anyone will see
us.”

“Have you done this before?” Curtis
asked.

“No, I’ve stolen but not from a grave
and this will probably be the only time.” By the time everyone was in
the car it was darker, and they left. They had shovels and gardening tools
in the back.

A red glow of light began to come from over the
horizon. “I thought the sunset was over,” one of them in a black
leathery jacket said.

“It was,” said the dark blond who
appeared to be the leader. He had the most experience stealing and did not
spend one day in jail for anything.

As they got out the red seemed to get bigger.
After opening the trunk, they then got out shovels and began looking for the
one grave with the ring. There was a large, rounded tombstone straight ahead
with some fresh flowers there half dead. The leader went for that one and it
read Jessie the name they were looking for. He had died almost ten years ago
and there was a card against the stone. It was about how someone missed him
so much and how she loved him but never told him enough and it was signed
Tess. It was from his girlfriend. The leader left it open and put it back.
His friends began to dig but Curtis wandered around looking for graves to
start digging. “Go to the mausoleum,” the leader told him, and
Curtis went that way glad Violet had no idea where he was.

As the guys dug Curtis tried opening crypts with
the shovel but they didn’t come open. When he found an old one with a
big crack he decided to try that one. This person had died in the
1920’s. He hit it hard a few times with the shovel and the right side
fell off. Sliding the coffin out and peeking in he could not see well but
there wasn’t anything buried with him of value. He put it back and
tried to find another one. He kept looking for older graves because if they
were buried with anything old it could be valuable.

Curtis stepped out of the crypts and saw that most
of the sky had turned red accept a circle of black in the middle. They all
stared at it. “What makes the sky like that?” One of them asked.
No one responded.

“Guys I don’t like this,” Curtis
said.

“We are almost there,” the leader
said, and he made deep holes with his shovel. “Go look for crypts to
steal from.” Just then he smacked into the coffin with his shovel.
They dug it out and opened it. Curtis came to see. “There he
is.” Exactly, Here lies Jessie just like the tombstone said. Curtis
glanced up and the whole sky was red. It seemed like an omen to him but
there were still pretty twinkling stars shining through. The leader pulled
the ring of his finger. Examining it the design looked like hell fire and he
check on the inside. It said made in Hades. He wanted to throw it but
pawning it would be a better idea. He put the ring in his pocket, and they
began reburying Jessie.

They kept looking around the graveyard for ghosts
and zombies coming to get them for revenge, but they didn’t. If
anything, Jessie would have been glad the ring was gone and being the good
person that he wouldn’t hurt anyone. They finished covering the grave.
“Don’t worry. We’ll pawn it as fast as we can,” he
told Curtis.

“If and when we find a pawn shop,” one
of them said. Curtis was the only one uneasy and they couldn’t drive
away fast enough. He would never do this again and was sorry he broke the
man’s crypt marble.

The sky had stayed red for the rest of the night.
When morning came it seemed like a dream but they needed to find food and a
pawn shop. There were still days left in their stay in Michigan to do as
they wished after finding what they needed.

After Curtis called Violet the leader wanted to
tell them his decision. “I easily found a pawn shop in the phone book,
but it’s not close. So, I have decided we have more to steal, and we
can pawn that before we go back to Canada where we won’t get caught.
Is that ok?” he asked Curtis.

“That’s fine. It’s only a ring
and I’m not even staying with it,” he responded.

“Yes, and it must be worth so much. We can
split it just tell your little lady back home your business was doing
well.” Curtis nodded in agreement. They spent the day looking for
places to rob and eat.

While they ate Chinese food in a motel room the
leader made his announcement. “We will rob an old mansion. It’s
old but they look like they have money. Tomorrow me and Anthony will go and
see if there’s an easy way in and what they leave open or
unlocked.” All they could do was nod. “Then we’ll come
back when they’re gone and get you Sawyer. Curtis we need someone to
drive the car. You can get out, but you need to be ready to drive. Hopefully
these people are going on summer vacation. How’s that sound?” he
asked Curtis.

“Sounds fine. If we go in through the backyard
it’s harder for people to see what we are doing,” he
suggested.

“Good idea,” the leader Tristan said.
He turned on the TV while they had a beer and relaxed. “It’s
funny how rich people like to come out here thinking that it’s nice
and peaceful and then get robbed.”

 

About the Author

Martha Wickham

Martha has studied writing with Writer’s Digest and has an
associate’s degree in Social Services. She has also written poems and
songs and even studied screen writing and horror. She still writes and likes
getting writing prompts. Her favorite author is VC Andrews. If you purchase
and read Martha’s books a review on this web site will be greatly
appreciated. She can also be found at www.marthawickham.com.

 

Contact Links

Website

Twitter: @MarthaWickham

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

 

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