Maybe it’s in my genes. As a kid growing up, my grandparents believed that when things went bump in the night, there was probably something there. As far as they were concerned, ghosts were as real as tomato soup, though even harder to pin to the wall. They believed in magic anything, full fat everything and moose meat. I never got the moose meat thing. Full fat we won’t talk about. But ghosts, magic and all things paranormal? Yes. Curiously, vampires were not part of the equation. Their tastes extended more to episodes of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir or Tales from the Twilight Zone. I’m sure it’s due, in part, to my grandparents that I adored paranormal fiction long before it was even categorized. So in honor of my grandparents and All Hallow’s Eve which is...
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