Kathy Lynn Blaylock

WELCOME ALL WHO ENTER HERE...

OMG, I just had an amazing phone conversation with the one and only

Nickolas Grabowsky, author of Halloween IV. I will not say just yet what was said,

but I will say that I was blown away by the call, and I am very pleased he took the time to call me. 

Now I must get back to work on part two of ???? Not telling. Feb, 1, 2009

BELOW READ HIS REVIEW OF CONCEIVING EVIL:

MY BOOKS

Along Life's Winding Roads,

and Mel's Journal : The Journey Home will be off the market for a time,

Due to Forbidden Publications closing.

Something about Kathy,

she lives in a small town in Virginia, in the Chesapeake Bay area, where she raised her four beautiful daughters.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              Kathy loves writing, and does so in many genres, from poetry, to horror.                                                                                                                                                                                                          From children�fs books, to romance. From crime drama, to paranormal.                                                                                                                                                                                                               In fact, what ever muse hits her, the characters will be vivid, some you will fall in love with, want to share in their adventures,                                                                                                                  and some you will love to hate, while others will send you running for a place to hide.

My Home Town: Where I Live Now: 

OTHER AUTHORS BOOKS

CONCEIVING EVIL RECEIVED

A POSITIVE REVIEW FROM

THE SCREENPLAY AGENCY

FOR A BOOK TO FILM PROJECT!!!

READ PART OF THEIR LETTER TO ME.

From: "Sherry Fine - VP Acquisitions"

<SherryBTF@thescreenplayagency.com> 

View Contact Details   Add Mobile

Alert 
To: humanneeds2003@yahoo.com
Subject: Book-To-Film: Positive

Review 
Date: Mon, 19 Jun 2006 16:09:17 -0400
   
Thank you for everything that we have

received from you thus far.  Our
review team believes that your

Book-To-Film Adaptation has

commercial
potential ...

 Use the link below to contact PublishAmerica                             

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 HEY COME VISIT ME AT MYSPACE!!!

My URL
http://www.myspace.com/humanneeds2003

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http://blog.myspace.com/humanneeds2003

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Check out my short stories on Horror Masters. Com Just search for Kathy Blaylock

     WHO MADE THE TOP TEN ON HORROR MASTERS.Com

www.horrormasters.com
   
 
(As of June 6, 2006)

~ Past Month ~

J. Troy Seate - Detained. 
John Craig - Banger
Nathaniel Hawthorne - The Gentle Boy
Horacio Quiroga - The Feather Pillow
Kathy Lynn Blaylock - Eternal Love
Nikolai Gogol - The Overcoat
Lafcadio Hearn - Embalming A Corpse
Lamaia Lee - Ouija
Washington Irving - The Devil and Tom Walker
Mrs. J. H. Riddell - The Haunted House at Latchford
 
of free horror stories

~ Past Year ~

Washington Irving - The Devil and Tom Walker

Nikolai Gogol - The Overcoat

Angela Adame - Why Me Daddy?

Algernon Blackwood - The Wendigo

Kailleaugh Andersson - “Inside Closed Eyes”

Horacio Quiroga - The Feather Pillow

Lafcadio Hearn - Embalming A Corpse

Kathy Lynn Blaylock - Eternal Love

Nickolaus A. Pacione - Library Of Bones

Oliver Onions - The Cigarette Case 

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 My funny story Jack In The Pulpit won first place at ACWclub

Here are all the entries, posted in the order they were received.
Jack In The Pulpit
Kathy Lynn Blaylock
humanneeds2003@yahoo.com  #1 of 10
1411 

                          JACK IN THE PULPIT

“Tell me a story daddy please?” Tom Junior asked his Father as he tucked him into bed.

“Let me see, have I told you the one about famous Jack from Hill Crest Tennessee?”

“No daddy, can you tell it to me now?”

“You bet I can son. Just snuggle down close your eyes, and do not make a peep. This story is just for us guys, and mom might feel left out.” He whispered pulling the covers snug tucked them under the mattress, taking a seat near the foot of the bed.

Clearing his throat, he began the story in a soft easy tone.

The young boy yelled as he ran toward the big scary man wearing a six-shooter at his side “Wait Sheriff Benny, I be a needing to talk to you. I reckon you don’t know me from a hill of beans. My name is Johnny B. and I be needing to talk to you bout Hill Crest Baptist Church, and all the shenanigans that went on there.”

“Slow down there son, and tell me about this Hill Crest Baptist Church and what happened there.”

“Well Sheriff there ain’t much to say bout Hill Crest Baptist Church. It is just an old two-room schoolhouse down in a holler in this here town of Hill Crest Tennessee. The Church got its name cause some old fart named the road going into the holler, Hill Crest. Why anybody would name a holler is beyond me. Day or night a holler is just a holler, named or not. Either way if a feller gets roughed-up down in a holler, well he can holler day and night, ain’t nobody going to hear him if there ain’t nobody round. Anyways like I was saying, Hill Crest Baptist Church has two rooms, one is used to conduct the Sunday Sermon, and the other is for the homely women to look after the youngster, so all their tomfoolery don’t disrupt the grown folks and their closer walk with Thee.

Do you know Sheriff that Sunday is the only time a man can walk close to God? My Ma says if a man don’t go to the Sunday Sermon, then he may never walk with God. You can bet I go every Sunday morning, yep I’m right there in the front row with the good book in my hands.”

“But Johnny B, what went on at the Hill Crest Baptist Church?”

“Well Sheriff, I was a fixing to tell you, when you said to tell you bout the Church. So I just be getting to the point. You see Sheriff Reverend James Parks use to speak over our Sunday Sermons. But he up and left us, he did. Went to meet his maker, the poor old feller. But that‘s neither here nor there, cause you already know bout that.

It’s no secret that Reverend Parks liked to sip a little shine before he begun the sermons. But I swear as long as I live, I’ll never forget last Sunday morning. Reverend Parks must have sipped a little too much shine, cause he was a giving the best sermon I ever did hear. He was up there praising God and all His glory, damning the liars and drunkards to hell. Then he threw his hands up in the air, yelled hallelujah and fell head over heels over Old Jack, broke his fool neck. Doc said he died instantly, Reverend Parks, that is.”

“Who is Old Jack?”

“The question Sheriff Benny is not who, but what is Old Jack?”

“Pray tell Johnny B, just what is an Old Jack?”

“Since you asked so nice like Sheriff Benny, I reckon I can clue you in. First off Old Jack ain’t really that old, he’s just a youngster you know.”

“You mean to tell me Reverend Parks fell over a youngster, and that’s how he died?”

“No not a human youngster! Sheriff can’t you follow anything? Old Jack is my kid brother’s pet goat. You see, Tom B won’t go anywhere without that dumb goat. Anyhow Old Jack took a liking to the Sunday Sermons and Reverend Parks. Old Jack walked into the Church every Sunday morning, and would get up there right alongside the Reverend through the whole sermon. The Lord blessed that man with a kind heart, as well as a cast iron ass is all I got to say.”

“Why do you say that Johnny B?”

“Cause Sheriff, ever time the Reverend said hell during the sermon; Old Jack butted him right in his backside. If they can go, that there’s one goat got his ticket to Heaven, cause he sure hates hell. That’s why I be here to speak on his behalf. You need to be setting him free Sheriff, there ain‘t no cause for him to be locked up in the blacksmith’s shed.” Johnny B said pausing to catch his breath.

“Well I don’t know about that Johnny B, he is responsible for the death of Reverend Parks.”

“That there’s where you’re wrong in your thinking Sheriff. Old Jack he’s just a dumb critter that had no cause to be at the Sunday Sermons. My kid brother took Old Jack, and the Reverend let him stay. Now I might be in the mind to trade my little brother for Old Jack. But I don’t reckon you would want to be a keeping him, he’s a throw back, kind of like a fish to small to keep. Won’t get much work out of him, he’s only six. Besides Ma will have Pa take me out behind the woodshed and tan my hide real good like, and I’m afraid she’d be in the mind to keep my breeches. So I reckon I be taken him home too.”

“How old are you son?” Sheriff Benny asked swallowing back a chuckle.

“Why Sheriff, I’m nearly a grown man. I reckon I’ve been ten years old nigh on half a year now. Small for my age that’s a fact, but I‘m grown enough to speak for Old Jack and that‘s a fact too.”

It was getting harder and harder for Sheriff Benny not to laugh, but the boy was so serious about the goat. Although he tried to hide it, it was plain to see that the boy feared that the goat would be locked away for the rest of his days. So there was only one thing Sheriff Benny could do, he stood there rubbing his chin pretending to be thinking of a solution to the boy’s dilemma. Johnny B finished off the soda pop and waited and waited. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the Sheriff finally spoke.

“Well I reckon I could release Old Jack into your custody Johnny B, but only on one condition. There will be no more Sunday Sermons for Old Jack, when the old folks find a new Reverend for the Hill Crest Baptist Church. Do we have a deal?” Sheriff Benny asked holding out his hand to the young boy.

“Deal.” Johnny B said puffing out his chest shaking Sheriff Benny’s hand just like a grown man.

“That’s how my brother saved Old Jack, the famous goat from Hill Crest Tennessee, and that’s where the saying Jack in the Pulpit comes from. At least that‘s what my daddy told me.”

“Wow that was some story honey, where did it come from?”

“My home town, Hill Crest Tennessee and my brother Johnny B, of course.

“Are you telling me that you had a pet goat?”

“That’s right Mrs. B. Now can we please go to bed?”

“Not before you tell me what became of Jack.”

“Old Jack honey, get the name right.” He replied with a chuckle.

“Well what happened to him?”

“Shush, come here and let me whisper it in your ear, this part is secret. I seem to recall that Old Jack took a liking to the neighbors nanny goat, and he hooked up with her while we were at a Sunday Sermon. The new Reverend was just about to wrap things up, when that old nanny goat came busting through the front door with Old Jack right behind her. He chased her round and round, finally she went out the same way she came in. Then she took off down the holler, with Old Jack hot on her trail, determined to sin come hell or high water. They ain’t been seen since. Now can we go to bed Mrs. B? Cause I got some sinning to do.” He said with raised brows patting her backside.

“You are a wicked old goat yourself.” She giggled running down the hall with Tom B hot on her trail.

Copyright©2005 by Kathy Lynn Blaylock  

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