There is something that you should know; correction, there are many things that you should know. I am, by no means, an authority on what knowledge is required, but, I do know that one something that you should know: Lard Queen is not my actual name.
Yes, consider it a confession, I live a lie on the internet, writing my opinion anonymously and haphazardly. Well now you can hold me to account, because I have a new book for sale that you might be interested in.
I have written a lot about ships on this site (Drawn to the Sea I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII), so it may not come as a surprise that I have written a book about nautical matters. Unlike those posts, this book is focused more on the supernatural, rather than the actual weird on-goings of ships and mariners.
Overall I have a weird relationship with the sea. I am very interested in ships, mariners, and the places where the land and sea meet; but, more than anything, I am interesting the strange and paranormal things that occur on the seas. This strange relationship of mine, I can’t explain it, but in this book, I don’t even try to explain it, I show it.
Anyway, here it is:
Are these true tales? Maybe you should consider asking yourself if anything is true. Think about, all you know is based on your frail human observations using your frail human senses. Even Descartes had to admit that everything beyond existence relies on believing, and…
The most important fact (that is, for me, who wants to sell books) is where you can get yourself a copy. Like many others, I have laid down any sense of honour or independence and submitted to Amazon for production and distribution (it’s not that bad) for the book. You can it available in the following formats:
– Canada: Physical, Ebook
– United States: Physical, Ebook
– Other Regions: please search on your platform!
Maybe you want to know what the content of the book is like, well, do I have a treat for you. Below is the whole of one of the stories that appears in the book, High Point Lighthouse.
“I want to go to the lighthouse,” said Zoe as she finished chewing on a mouthful of French fries.
“Great! Let’s drive down to the marina, we can get out on my boat in no time,” replied John as he threw into the trash the ketchup-soaked cardboard box that had only recently been full of French fries.
“No,” she paused, half smiling, “I mean, let’s drive to the actual lighthouse. We’ve seen it lots from the boat, but I want to see it close-up,” her half smile turning into a full smile, hoping to convince her boyfriend who went from enthusiastic to dour as she spoke.
“Why do you want to go there?” he asked as he stood up and reached into his pocket for his car keys.
“I don’t know,” she was being honest, “I just want to. Maybe you can take some pictures of me. You know, like those ones you took of me on your boat?”
The offer was compelling enough for John and in moments they were heading away from the chip truck and down the old highway towards the High Point Lighthouse. John liked to listen to political talk radio, even though it just made him angry, but he didn’t seem to be listening as he drove.
“Can we listen to some music?” asked Zoe, “if that’s alright with you?”
“Sure,” said John, his tone was dead, he kept staring straight ahead at the road as he blindly pushed buttons on the car radio until an upbeat pop song filled the car.
The drive was scenic, first passing along the coast, then slightly inland through some farming country before passing through a small stretch of forested land that started on a slight incline. Just a few moments later John turned the car onto the gravel road leading towards the rocky High Point. It never occurred or seemed strange to Zoe that John knew exactly how to get to the lighthouse as if he had been there before.
John rounded a bend in the gravel road and the High Point Lighthouse came into view. After stopping the car in the makeshift parking lot, Zoe and John got out and started heading towards the lighthouse.
“Oh, there is a gate in the fence!” Zoe noted, “Do you think anyone still lives here?”
“They made a gate in the fence after people kept breaking in,” John said in an even monotone, “the lighthouse was automated in the 1960’s and hasn’t had a keeper since.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Zoe, “how do you know so much about this lighthouse?”
John stopped in his tracks and turned to face Zoe directly; she also stopped, a slight look of confusion on her face.
“My grandfather was a fisherman,” said John.
“Oh, just like you!” Zoe replied happily – in all of the time she had been together with John he had barely mentioned his family at all.
“When he met my grandmother he became a lighthouse keeper; here, at High Point so that he could spend more time with her,” John said, his voice and tone still locked in dead evenness.
“Oh, that’s sweet,” Zoe said while clasping her hands together, miming a pose that she saw once on a cheap romance novel.
“After the lighthouse was automated he went back to trawling,” John continued, “and one time when he was returning from a long voyage he saw something peculiar in the light cast from this very lighthouse.”
John’s monotone broke, his voice became more sinister with each word he said; and as his tone grew more grim, Zoe grew more and more frightened by this dark side of her boyfriend that she had never seen before.
“When he reached the pier he immediately came here,” John thrust a pointing finger at the lighthouse behind him, his voice rising in anger, “he found his wife in the arms of another man, she had been cheating on him.”
“Oh God, that’s terrible!” Zoe said, her pulse raced as she felt sorrow and fear as John told his story.
“He, my grandfather,” John’s voice cracked slightly, and tears showed in the corners of his eyes, “he killed them both. Then, then he hanged himself in that very lighthouse…”
“No, it can’t be, you’re telling me a tall tale,” Zoe said as she folded her arms across her chest and unknowingly took a few small steps backwards.
“I think you’ve been cheating on me,” said John, the words dripping off his tongue like a bitter solvent, “I know you’ve been cheating on me!”
“W-What?” yelled Zoe in surprise.
The distant screech of metal grinding on metal could be heard from the lighthouse as the large bulb turned off of its normal pattern. The light, so powerfully bright, cast a shadow behind Zoe, even in the daylight of early afternoon.
“The lighthouse knows,” said John, his tone low, prophetic.
“No!” screamed Zoe as she turned to flee.
Just like his grandfather some 60 years earlier, he seized his lover. She resisted, but the source of his strength was preternatural and he gripped Zoe by the throat and squeezed the life from her.
“I understand,” said John as he let Zoe’s body droop to the ground.
The door unlocked for him as he approached, and inside he found a length of rope next to a sign warning workers that they need to tie off when performing periodic maintenance on the automatic lighting system. Like his forebear before him, John was found hanging from the neck.
*Not recommended for the ebook version.
All other images copyright 2020 Lee Santos
All text copyright 2020 Lee Santos