An Easter Gift for YOU.

The Celestial Series Promo (1)

‘Tis the season of hope. Enjoy a story in The Celestial Series FREE starting with The Visit this week…
New stories to come in this series, late 2019.
~Get it FREE!

An excerpt from The Visit

 

A Note from Sydney.

The Celestial Series is a fictional collection of short stories with a common theme throughout.  You will find a message of hope here.  A declaration of new beginnings and a sign that the supernatural spirit of God is as real as the darkness that surrounds us in times of despair.  For more than three decades, I’ve witnessed unexplained mysteries and ghostly encounters, but the most life-altering encounters I’ve ever experienced will always be the times I’ve witnessed God in all of His supernatural glory.

Each installment in this series has a part of me and my life’s experiences with the paranormal.  Although the characters and circumstances are fictional, their experiences have been mine and recreated here for you.

On December 31, 2004, I experienced an angelic encounter that will remain etched in my soul forever. I invite you to experience the same through my character, Elizabeth Chapman.  I hope you enjoy The Visit.

Love and Light,

Sydney

 

Chapter 1

December 31, 2004

Springfield, Tennessee

 Elizabeth Chapman ran her fingers through her long chestnut brown hair and let out a heavy sigh.  She peered out the front window of her home office and watched the snow fall silently to the ground. Pulsating beams of sunlight created a glistening background, and she envisioned Reece’s truck turning the corner of Winter Creek Road just as it always did every day at the same time.  And then a familiar yet unnerving sound echoed from the dark, empty room beyond the office door.

The faint melody of a music box.  The sound must have come from the small curio placed against the foyer wall, its shelves lined full of collectible music boxes. The melody carried only the first line of a familiar tune and then stopped.

Then. Three knocks.

“Beth” as she had always been affectionately called by her husband Reece, trembled as she pulled away from the window and tiptoed along the wall, inching one foot at a time.  With a sudden pause, she stopped and stood rigid, almost melting into the drywall as she held her breath and waited.  She knew what to expect.  In three seconds, the creaking sound of the front door opening would fill the room and leave her motionless, her eyes wide open and fixed on the shadow cast across the floor.  And then seconds later, this repetitive occurrence that had become a normalcy with no meaning or logic at all, settled over her with a strange calm as the house became still once again.

Beth took a long deep breath and walked into the hall leading to the master suite.  Her eyes were heavy and her body felt fatigued more than usual.  Although she had been battling insomnia for the past several months along with an unsettling and invisible presence that continued to taunt her, today’s vibration seemed to unnerve her with a mighty angst.

As she entered the master suite, her weakened stride resembled that of a decrepit woman.  She paused with each step across the plush carpet floor.  Finally she neared the king-sized bed and leaned forward allowing her body to fall against it.  A thick, fluffy pillow enveloped her head as she landed.  She slid her feet underneath the sheets and pulled the covers across her body. Within seconds, Beth Chapman was transported across a sequential path to a place she had almost forgotten.  A place that had led her right where she was.

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Merry Christmas from The Afterlife

 

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The Christmas holidays can be one of the saddest times of the year for millions of grieving people.  People who have lost a loved one or suffered a broken relationship often struggle with holiday blues and depression.  It’s a time of year that I’ve often dreaded as a single parent with no real support system since my parent’s deaths in 1991.  For years, I’ve felt as if I was wandering through life half-blind and almost hollow as today’s dating culture brought one disappointment after another.  How could a believer who has spent a lifetime in paranormal research arrive at such a place of confusion?  After all, I have witnessed paranormal phenomena all my life, but at those moments of intense grief and suffering, I was no different than anyone else.  I needed a sign.

I’ve heard countless stories from grieving people who have experienced “visits” from their loved ones.  Today, people often reach out to me and tell me of a recent loved one’s death.  And during those moments when they are telling me their stories, I often catch myself interrupting with “that’s very common”.

Their raised eyebrows and sudden pause prompts me to explain that our departed loved ones often linger for a short while before entering the Light so that they can “gift” us with a sign.  A sign letting us know that life never ends.  It simply transforms.

Just three weeks ago, I sat down to have a Thanksgiving meal at a local church in my hometown.  I sat down next to an ordained minister who was still suffering from his son’s death earlier this year.  I noticed his expressionless face as he ate in silence, and my empath abilities allowed me to witness some of his pain.  As I finished my dinner, my thoughts carried me back in time to the prayer vigil that was held outside the minister’s home, and I remembered seeing pictures that captured a portal of light beaming straight down from the sky in spite of the night hour.  I remembered the minister telling us about his young son talking to “invisible strangers” just days before he lay down and died, and I knew that at that moment, the veil was getting thinner for the child thus enabling him to see spirits from the afterlife.

Just a few years ago, I lost a cherished friend who ministered to me and loved my children as her own.  She was by all accounts, a mother and grandmother that we had not known since my own mother’s death many years before.  She and I shared a mutual appreciation for the paranormal and a firm belief in the afterlife.  She laughingly told me on numerous occasions that she would “visit” me if she died first.  Then on November 23rd, 2010, she crossed over.  I remember later that night and after a day of horrific grief, I lay down and finally closed my eyes.  A few hours later, I was awakened by a strong odor that smelled just like a Thanksgiving dish of chicken and dressing.  The aroma was so thick that I wondered where it could be coming from.  I sat up in bed and wiped my eyes.  Had I left the oven on before going to bed?  But there wasn’t anything in the oven.  I sat still for a moment and looked around the room.  A strange sensation overwhelmed me as if I was not alone, and then I realized what was happening.  My beloved friend had paid me a “visit” in a way that only I would understand.  Just days before her death, my friend promised to bake a pan of chicken and dressing for my family’s Thanksgiving meal.  As the aroma faded from the room, I whispered her name and thanked her for letting me know she was okay.

If you find yourself longing for a sign this holiday season, don’t be surprised when it shows up.  Stay alert.  Divine signs and messages from our loved ones are abundant and surround us daily.

Here are three most common communication methods through which signs appear:

  1. Dreams-probably one of the most frequent signs is through a “visitation” dream.  If you’ve had a dream in which a departed loved one communicated with you, do not dismiss it.  In some cases, departed loved ones have actually served as messengers to warn of impending doom or a significant life event.
  2. Music- Hearing a song that holds significance for you and a loved one or hearing a song with lyrics that seem to answer questions you’ve had may actually be a sign from Heaven.
  3. Chance encounters-Sometimes the universe aligns us with people who unknowingly deliver messages through something they say or do that reveals a connection to a departed loved one.

Although there are many other ways in which we may receive signs, there is one constant truth that will always be present.  Regardless of the method or form in which it is delivered, a sign that is meant for you will have an indisputable significance that’s always linked directly to you.  Be observant this holiday season.  And remember, life never ends and those strange feelings you keep having just may be your departed loved one sending you a “Merry Christmas” from The Afterlife.

elegant christmas background with place for new year text invita

To learn more about L. Sydney Fisher’s paranormal research and books, check out

https://www.LSydneyFisher.com.

THE DEVIL’S DEN

Being a paranormal researcher means that I am often contacted by people who are experiencing the paranormal.  So what’s the scariest project that I’ve ever been involved in?  Without a doubt, it’s the chapter in Volume II of my Haunted Series.  The chapter is called The Devil’s Den and after visiting here, I knew the title would be fitting for the story.

Several months before the book’s publication, I was contacted by a woman who had abandoned her home after her husband committed suicide.  I was immediately drawn to her story as she described her husband’s bizarre behavioral changes after moving into the house.   Since I am an empath and clairvoyant, I absorbed the woman’s story and could feel her grief each time that I spoke with her.  She told me that she and her husband had ten wonderful years of marriage until moving into the house located on a dead end road in Rural Mississippi.  She said that they didn’t know much about the land surrounding the home, but they had heard about a murder that had happened there.

The family brushed aside any uneasy feelings about the home’s past and instead focused on getting moved into their new spacious home.  Each of their children could now have their own bedroom, unlike having to share a room in the mobile home where they had lived before.  But within two weeks, strange noises began to haunt the family.  Thumping noises from the basement, footsteps, and running water (no one could find its source) were the first signs that something was wrong here.  Weeks progressed as the woman’s husband battled a growing rage.  He seemed to snap over trivial things and began having conversations with invisible entities.

One day when she was in the kitchen preparing dinner, her husband came up behind her with a knife and told her “I ought to slice your f—ing throat”.  She immediately ran out of the house and didn’t return until hours later when her husband was gone.  This family’s horror climaxed on the morning that her husband committed suicide, but the weeks leading up to the final hour was unlike anything I had ever heard.  The story reminded me of The Amityville Horror, not the fictional accounts, but the part that included the DeFeo murders of 1974.  Ronnie DeFeo was charged on the same day that I am writing this now–44 years ago! (November 14, 1974)  And I believe that the same type of possession that entered Ronnie DeFeo’s body is also what caused this family’s demise.

I scheduled a time to go out to the property and have a look around.  If the energy was as strong as she told me, then I knew I would sense it as soon as I arrived.  A local neighbor and family friend met me at the house.  At first, I didn’t feel anything unusual or sinister as I walked around the property looking into the windows, but as I made my way around the left side of the house, I began to feel overwhelmed with dread.  I stopped and peered inside another window, but then jerked back.  Whatever had been at that house before was still there and I realized that it was now watching me from inside the house.  I hurried around to the front door, but before I could thank the neighbor for showing me the property, my eyes locked straight ahead on the front door side light window where an old hag with hollow eyes stood watching me.  She was humpback, her eyes void of color and hollow without even an iris.  Her skin was pasty white and cheekbones protruded from a sunken face.  I began to breathe fast and tried to keep my composure.  What if the neighbor didn’t see what I was seeing?  I knew that I needed to get out of there.

I quickly said my “good-byes” and started for the car, but just as I opened the door, I witnessed a massive black shadow zoom past me and toward the trees at the front of the property.  I literally could not believe my eyes.  I felt its supernatural power as it soared off the ground.  It seemed to put on a show, flaunting itself as it paced back and forth along the tree line.  A part of me wanted to stay and explore, but I heeded my body’s warning signs urging me to leave the property.  When I arrived home, I raced to my computer and messaged the homeowner.  I asked her to describe the spirits that they had seen while living there.  To my horror and with my mouth hung open, I watched as her words zipped across Facebook messenger as she described exactly what I had just witnessed minutes before.

Days later, I found myself unable to sleep.  Thoughts and visions tormented me about the evil that still dwells on this abandoned property.  The widow continued to contact me, and I confessed everything that I saw and felt while there.  She pleaded with me to go back to the house and go inside.  She wanted me to try and make contact with her deceased husband, but I declined.  To this day, I believe that the only energy that still resides in that house is the evil that caused a young woman to kill her baby and a man who had a loving family finally take his own life after months of demonic torment.

If you would like to read the family’s story, you can find it here~
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Sleep with the lights on,

L. Sydney Fisher
On the WEB~https://lsydneyfisher.com/

The Haunted: Legends from The Wilderness
A Haunted History Series

A Supernatural Legacy.

Inspired by TRUE EVENTS.

See No Evil FREE First Time Ever

Get your copy~https://www.amazon.com/See-No-Evil-Sydney-Fisher-ebook/dp/B01KF0I862/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1519248997&sr=8-4&keywords=L+Sydney+Fisher

 

From the Author’s Diary

This story has been percolating in the recesses of my mind since 2013.  After my debut novel The Haunting of Natalie Bradford was released, I had the honor of speaking to a crowd of enthusiastic readers and paranormal fans at the Dixie Regional Library located in Pontotoc, Mississippi.  Unbeknownst to me was the town’s very own psychic celebrity of the 20th century known as Seymour Prater, a man often referred to as The Mississippi Mystic.

The Library Director, Regina Graham approached me with the Prater story as I was preparing to leave that day.  She told me about a man from Pontotoc who was known to have a unique gift that enabled him to find lost objects.  She also advised me that his fame spread far and wide across the southeast earning him notoriety as a “fortune teller”, a label that his wife highly detested.

Stories of Seymour Prater covered the inside pages of newspapers and magazines from time to time.  Fortunately, some of these articles had been saved and collected by the library.  Mrs. Graham invited me to explore the supernatural wonder and offered to help any way that she could.

Fast forward almost two years later to January, 2016.  I had just released my supernatural bestseller, The Phoenix Mission a month earlier.  That book was inspired by the U.S. Army’s psychic spy program, Stargate.  And while my creative tone was fixed on that material, the Prater story easily came to mind as a project that I needed to explore.

After meeting with Mrs. Graham who provided me with the Seymour Prater file of newspaper clippings and family journals, I began my research into the man who often called himself “the man with the radio mind”.  I sat at a long, conference table inside a room designated for Genealogy research and slowly flipped through the newspapers one page at a time, taking it all in.  I was mesmerized.  Seymour Prater and his story was more than I had anticipated, and I knew that most people in the area probably didn’t realize how profound his ability was and what it all meant.  He was destined to be a legend.

As someone who has studied the paranormal and unexplained most of my life, I realized the magnitude of his gift within seconds of picking up that first newspaper article.  My mind raced with thoughts of past explorations.  There was another man who I studied over the years, and he possessed the same abilities as Prater, but this man became known worldwide.  His name was Edgar Cayce, The Sleeping Prophet, and I knew that in order to study Seymour Prater, I needed to study Edgar Cayce one more time.  Don’t miss my addition of The Divinely Gifted at the end of this book.

See No Evil is a project that included detailed research.  This research even included studying the flow of the Tombigbee River and the riverboats that traveled to Aberdeen during the time of Seymour Prater’s boyhood.  It was on that fateful day in Aberdeen, Mississippi when Prater met the man who would deliver a message that shaped the course of his life.  The entire Prater story is laced with providence and even what some may define as predestination.  Pay attention to the opening scenes that have been created most likely as they happened.  Unknown until now, Lewis Prater became Seymour Prater’s father only because Thomas Jefferson Brown was captured and taken prisoner at the Battle of Missionary Ridge in November, 1863.  Fate?

While parts of this story have been dramatized for the sake of storytelling, let it be known that this really happened.  On January 3, 1931, Arthur Floyd was murdered at his store in Carrollton, Mississippi.  And as the town lived in terror from the haunting at the Floyd place, Seymour Prater became the victim’s only hope for solving a murder and putting the angry spirit to rest.  While the town’s folk frantically searched for answers, it was murder at first sight for The Mississippi Mystic.

The Celestial Series

NEW FOR 2018.

Introducing The Celestial Series, a 12 volume short story series. Inspired by REAL LIFE EVENTS that are certain to give you goose bumps and HOPE.

Watch for it…

Volume 1 premieres in a few days. 👻❤️ #Ibelieve #followthelight

 

The Celestial Series

Do YOU Believe?

paranormal research

Be CAREFUL who you share your crazy with…Although statistics have indicated that more than 70% of people believe in some kind of paranormal phenomena, whether it’s ESP or GHOSTS, there will always be those people who get SPOOKED by my questions or research and either not return my requests for an interview or simply look at me as if I am some sort of crazy. Being a paranormal/supernatural author doesn’t mean that I only write about the HAUNTED. I also research miracles/supernatural, unexplained mysteries, military history, NASA exploration, and true crime. BUT paranormal research still tops out as the most fascinating to me. WHY? Because nobody has ever been able to DISPROVE its existence. Regardless of your beliefs, there are literally hundreds of thousands of people worldwide who have experienced phenomena that cannot be explained through rational means. That’s not CRAZY. #statistics #ghostsarereal #haunted #doyoubelieve #Iamnotcrazy#research #amwriting

Archaeology & the Supernatural Connection

Do YOU Believe?

The Mississippi Archaeology Association held its annual meeting on February 17-19, 2017.   A couple of months ago, I discovered that history lovers like me could pay a small membership fee and be a part of excavations around the state.  It was an exciting idea since my formal education in English and Art History did not include Archaeology.  So I decided to join the association because I absolutely love history and secretly wish that I was Indiana Jones.

As the event neared, I became increasingly excited about hanging out with the friends of Indiana Jones.  A roomful of archaeologists.  People who study ancient cultures and dig up bones.  It all seemed so cool, but I began to wonder about the ancient cultures and what might have been their superstitions or religious beliefs.  Had they placed a curse upon any person who disturbs their grave?  Would death certainly come to those guilty of the desecration of a dead man’s bed?

I enjoyed my time in the Archaeology museum on the campus of Mississippi State University, but I learned so much more at the lecture series the following day.  Several professors, archaeologists, and graduate students participated in presentations that included intriguing finds all across the state.  The people of ancient Mississippi were an indigenous culture of hunters.  Nowadays, we never see a black bear or a cougar, but hundreds of years ago, these animals were common and plentiful in the region.  The Native Americans treasured the black bear’s paws and often used the claw in jewelry making.  Over the years, burial sites have been unearthed to find the skeletal remains of an Indian who once lived in a hut that stood over the site of their grave.  Artifacts such as pottery, jewelry, and weaponry have been found beneath the soil surrounding former Native American villages, but as I listened to the speakers discussing these historic archaeological digs, images of a supernatural and superstitious culture filled my mind.

During a ten-minute break, I walked over to the snack table and began pouring myself a cup of coffee when I was joined by an archaeologist who claimed to have experienced the supernatural during some of his digs.  He mentioned that the weather always seemed to turn volatile when a gravesite was disturbed.  Often times, the rain would delay the excavation for days after unearthing human remains.  One such event occurred after “rainmakers” were found by a group of kids who began to play and dance with the ancient rattles.  Little did they know, they were literally “drumming” up a storm.

Remember the curse of King Tutankhamun?  The opening of the Egyptian king’s tomb was reportedly the cause of several deaths.  Although the alleged curse was considered nothing more than superstition to scientists, there are numerous accounts of disaster, bad luck, and even death that has struck after an ancient burial ground has been disturbed.  Superstitions abound and warnings all demand the same adherence.  “Never, ever build on land that is an ancient burial ground or suffer the consequences of the curse!”  The same seems to go for digging up the past.  Better leave it alone.  And if you dig it up, you better put it back the way you found it!

Before the final presentation of the day, I wandered through the room searching for the Director of the Chickasaw Archaeology.  (The Chickasaw Nation once inhabited the hills of North Mississippi) I was eager to speak with him because I wanted to tell him about the land that I currently live on.  I’ve lived here for more than five years and recently discovered that the site was once a Native American village.  Upon learning this, I concluded that the land’s history was the explanation that I had been seeking for a long time.  It’s not unusual for me to live in haunted locations.  I seem to find them no matter where I move.  But this house was not old.  And no one had died here.  At least, not that I knew of.

I found Dr. Lieb and quickly introduced myself.  We talked for a few minutes about the area in North Mississippi and the ghostly sightings that had been reported.  As I continued to tell him about my experiences and the sighting of the white wolf, the director’s eyes grew large and he replied, “That’s not the first time that someone has reported these things.”

I gasped and stepped back.  Unbelievable.  And what about the apparition of the woman walking across the highway near the airport?  For years, I had heard that Indian artifacts had been unearthed during a construction project there until the director informed me that something much more sacred had been found in the area.  I listened intently, holding my breath with anticipation as I heard him say, “The body of an Indian woman was unearthed in the location you are speaking about.”

A chill crawled from the bottom of my heels to the top of my head like fingernails raking across my body as I began to realize exactly where I was living.  And why did my kids keep finding mounds of mussel shells near our yard?  According to the friends of Indiana Jones, the natives had many feasts here, and my house was situated close to the “trash mound”.  Could my house be situated over a native’s final resting place?  Could that be the reason that I continue to experience paranormal phenomena here?  Maybe so, but I will probably NEVER have the courage to disturb an ancient grave and risk suffering the consequences of its supernatural curse.  Although I admire archaeologists and their work, I will admit that living with a ghost is one thing.  Getting rid of an ancient curse? Better call your local shaman.

Suggested reading~ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curse_of_the_pharaohs

Additional pictures from the annual meeting of

The Mississippi Association of Archaeology.

indian-burial-ground

indian-shaman

Tracking a Killer Through the EYES of a Clairvoyant.

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Seymour Prater aka The Mississippi Mystic

A few years ago when the first edition of my book The Haunting of Natalie Bradford was released, I was invited to speak at a local library during their monthly “Luncheon with Books” event.  I was happy to oblige especially since the city that I would be visiting was on my “To Research List”.   I remember walking into the reception area to see that it was already full of people without an empty seat in the room.  After an hour of lecture about all things ghostly and supernatural, I signed books and visited with many people curious about my research.  I then began packing up my things when one of the librarians stopped me and proceeded to tell me about a local man whom she thought I might be interested in researching.  I remember her saying that he lived during the 20th century and that he had a “gift” of being able to find lost objects.  She went on to say that he was somewhat of a local celebrity, and she had a newspaper file on him if I would be interested in seeing it.  It piqued my interest for a moment, and I nodded affirming that I would follow up in the future.  

The months wore on as I became engrossed in other writing projects, mainly the second book in the Bradford series and then my latest release, The Phoenix Mission. Although the librarian’s suggestion stuck in the back of my mind, I had no idea just how intriguing this “local celebrity” would become.  

Just a few weeks ago, I pulled out my planning workbook and studied my list of projects.  I had jotted a few notes down about the psychic from Mississippi who could find lost objects.  Since my main character, Seth Phoenix (The Phoenix Mission) was based on this same type of phenomena, I decided this might be worth pursuing.  I then put together a folder and binder for this project leaving the labels blank and jumped in my SUV.  Thirty minutes later, I pulled into the Pontotoc County Library where Regina had already pulled the files that I needed. 

I sat down and began thumbing through the newspaper articles.  I scanned the pages looking for content that might prove the man’s gift of ESP or Clairvoyance.  To my surprise, this man known as Seymour Prater went far beyond finding lost objects.  Yes, he was a 20th century prophet with uncanny similarities to another modern day psychic known as the Sleeping Prophet, Edgar Cayce.  And while Edgar Cayce was healing the sick through his sleeping visions and revelations, Seymour Prater was “seeing” the past in the present and even identifying a man’s killer.  

I immediately became mesmerized by the stories of Seymour Prater.  How did he do it? What was this gift that he had?  He had the extraordinary gift of Clairvoyance. Although we all have gifts, most people aren’t aware of these specialties and even more unaware of how to develop them.  Clairvoyance is the alleged ability to gain information about an object, person, location or physical event through extrasensory perception. A person who has this ability is called a clairvoyant (“one who sees clearly”).  Hundreds of people seeking answers visited Mr. Prater in Mississippi during his lifetime.  When asked to help locate a lost object or solve a mystery, Mr. Prater would usually place his hands over his eyes for a moment while he sat quietly considering the question.  He then responded with the same introduction each time, “I see, I see….”

As I continued my research of Mr. Prater, I came across a story that stood apart from the rest.   A story about a deaf man, beaten and killed in his store on January 3, 1931.  His dead body lay in a pool of blood against the hard wood floor.  The man’s corpse lay on his side still clutching a piece of peppermint candy in his hand.  The densely populated town quickly began to talk about the “Floyd Place” and the haunting of Mr. Floyd.  Soon the whole town was scared to walk past the property where Arthur Floyd had been attacked in the late evening hours.  The Floyd family and local police struggled to find answers as the trail to finding the killer remained cold.  The Floyds had run out of ideas until they decided to consult the psychic from Pontotoc County. And when Seymour Prater closed his eyes this time, images of the murder flashed before him as he began to track a killer through the eyes of a clairvoyant…

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