The Haunting of Timber Manor (Memoirs of the Human Wraiths #1)
by F.E. Feeley Jr
Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Paul Richmond
Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host F.E. Feeley here today. Welcome, F.E., to Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words.
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Where do we go?
Where do we go when the thunder rolls through the night
When the darkness is deep and the stars have faded from heavens inkwell sky
When shadows stretch, thin fingers coiling around us when lightning flashes
And fear grips our hearts, quickened by the sight?
How can the night grow so long? We wonder
Our huddled frames closed in on itself to stay the cold night air
Leaves dash around out feet as we lower our heads to mourn the fall of rain
Quickly, we trudge through the empty streets seeking a destination far off
Warm light in distance windows kiss promises into the night
Memories of hearth and home invade our minds
In these bitter circumstances, we trudge on
As danger lurks from heavens portals on down to the ground upon which we trod
F.E.
I love poetry. I love writing it. I wrote that just as I began to write this blog post. It’s sort of a game with
me.
I try to visualize a scene and go with it. Try to translate that visualization onto the page in a few short
Verses.
It’s like writing books, except that I am trying to convey an entire idea in a few short stanzas instead of
Through a book.
It’s a craft I’m in no way near to mastering. I’m not sure if I’m even any good. But like any craft, it’s
worth sticking with and doing over
And over.
Most times, I will post something to Facebook. Right in the ‘What’s on your mind’ place where we go to
‘connect’ to people.
I was introduced to Poetry by the late great Dr. Maya Angelou and was so moved by a speech I watched
Her give on Youtube, on the day she died, I read most of her biographies and read the poems in which
She recited.
Poets like Langston Hughes, Edna St. Vincent- Millay, and of course, her poetry – such as ‘I know why the
Caged bird sings.’
My husband and my favorite poem is, The Day is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. When my
Husband recites it, and it gets to the very last stanza, my eyes well up.
“….And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.”
Poetry is a gentle thing. A profound but gentle thing, that – just as I mentioned before, can work to
Provoke deep emotion from its reader.
As an author of books, I love the challenge poetry presents to me. To really pin down an image I am
Trying to convey to the reader. I want them to be able to see with my words, through my eyes, what I
Am imagining onto the page.
I want them to see right into my heart and can communicate with them.
That’s why I write, really. I have this – as P!nk described once – this insatiable lust to connect to people
Through my craft.
Here are a few more examples:
This is one of my favorite ones that I’ve written that a friend of mine, Baz, worked onto a graphic.
This poem I wrote one night during a windstorm. I sat outside smoking, as the warm but violent wind
Whipped so hard against a Live Oak. It was one of those nights when light from streetlamps made the
World feel even more eerie. It was one of those nights where, to me, the possibility of ghosts is the
Strongest.
This is another post my friend helped to put together. This poem was written after I’d gone down to the
Beach. My husband and I stayed out there pretty late and the force of the water slapping against the
Shore really kind of got to me. I imagined what it would look like during a hurricane and found myself
In awe of the sheer magnitude and power of the sea.
Thank you for hanging out with me, today. I really hope you liked the poetry and the blog post.
Blurb
While recovering from the recent loss of his parents, Daniel Donnelly receives a phone call from his estranged aunt, who turns over control of the family fortune and estate, Timber Manor. Though his father seemed guarded about the past, Daniel’s need for family and curiosity compel him to visit.
Located in a secluded area of the Northwest, Timber Manor has grown silent over the years. Her halls sit empty and a thin layer of dust adorns the sheet-covered furniture. When Daniel arrives to begin repairs, strange things happen. Nightmares haunt his dreams. Memories not his own disturb his waking hours. Alive with the tragedies of the past, Timber Manor threatens to tear Daniel apart.
Sherriff Hale Davis grew up working on the manor grounds. Seeing Daniel struggle, he vows protect the young man who captured his heart, and help him solve the mystery behind the haunting and confront the past—not only to save Daniel’s life, but to save his family, whose very souls hang in the balance.
About the Author
F.E. Feeley Jr was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan and lived there for twenty years before joining the military. He is a veteran of the US Armed Services; having done a tour in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom in 2002-2003, he turned college student, pursuing a degree in political science. He now lives in Southeast Texas where he is married to the love of his life, John, and where they live with their five year old German Shepherd, Kaiser.
As a young man, reading took center stage in his life, especially those novels about ghosts, witches, goblins, and all the other things that went bump in the night. His favorite authors include such writers as Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Anne Rice, whose work allowed him to travel to far off places and meet fascinating and scary characters. As a gay man, he wishes to be able to write good fictional literature for those who love the genre and to write characters that readers can relate to. All in all, he is a cigarette smokin’, whiskey drinkin’, rock and roll lovin’, tattoo wearin’ dreamer of a man with a wonderful husband who puts up with his crap and lets him write his stories.
