I don't do battlefields. Oh, it's not because I am against history. Nope, the truth is I'm psychic and I find battlefields...overwhelming is the best word I can come up with. The fact of the matter is, I don't deal at all well with being psychic, having been raised in a family of scientists and "seeing is believing" kind of people. I was the only one on either side of my family who had any sort of ESP, and it made things rather difficult growing up. For instance, when my high school class took a trip to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, I fainted as soon as I stepped out of the bus, overhelmed by the smells and sounds of the Civil War battle which I saw raging before my eyes. It was freaky. And embarassing. Pretty much the story of my life. Anyway, after that, I decided to avoid battlefields.

He never paid much attention to the neighbors living on his city block until the day the pretty middle-aged widow moved in two doors down from him. She was plump and dark with sparkling eyes, and she always wore dark gloves on her hands, even indoors.

Once there was an old woman who went out in the woods to dig up some roots to cook for dinner. She spotted something funny sticking out of the leaves and dug around until she uncovered a great big hairy toe. There was some good meat on that toe which would make a real tasty dinner, so the old woman put it in her basket and took it home.

Excerpted from Spooky Campfire Talesretold by S.E. SchlosserThe reports had been on the radio all day, though she hadn't paid much attention to them. Some crazy man had escaped from the state asylum. They were calling him the Hook Man...