Being inspiring for other’s creativity is so awesome… as I usually struggle with my own.
Here are a couple nuggets inspired by my book The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge. Granted, I didn’t create the legend, but I’m happy to have brought it back to life and more than thrilled that others have been touch by the book enough to put their time and talents to it.
The first is a folk song written by Kris Carmichael.
I got a call from this reporter a couple weeks ago about my book and the making of this segment, but I was nowhere around the county to do a live interview, so alas, no publicity for me. It’s a cool story none-the-less. My book “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge”is based on this story.
Click here to see the video segment – Channel 12 WJTV Jackson, MS – The transcription below is from their website.
In Lauderdale County, no one knows what “Stuckey’s” first name is but people know where to find his bridge over the Chunky River. Now it’s mostly used for a Halloween party spot but local legend holds it’s also the site of Stuckey’s lynching and haunting. NEWS CHANNEL 12’S Jacob Kittilstad looks for signs of ghosts -where dozens have been reported – in this week’s MYSTERY MONDAY.
Wayne Smith said he lives (with his dog Joe) on the property Stuckey is said to have owned in the mid-1800’s. “Everyone that comes here that does see something, They’re frightened by it. And they’ll tell you that they’re frightened,” Smith said. “Murdering people, disposing of their bodies, gold buried along the banks of the river,” Smith said – shortly summing up the story. “We have found through the years of talking to people that he was probably a serial killer,” Smith said.
Legends tell that “Stuckey” operated an inn where he killed as many as 20 people who were waiting to ferry across the Chunky River. After the bridge was built and his crimes discovered, locals held a Kangaroo Court and made an example of the former Dalton Gang member, according to local legend.
“They hung the man and his helper from the bridge. Left him and come back after three or four days to cut the bodies down. And they splashed into the water of the river,” Smith said.
Some people say they can still here that splash nightly (although beavers are the suspected noise-producers). But it’s the other sounds and sighting that are more disturbing.
“It’s more mist-like with a silhouette of a human being or you’ll see a mist with a face in it,” Smith said.
“There have been people who have heard women screaming. And it normally occurs at night,” Smith said.
Paranormal Investigation groups have shared what they call evidence of violent spirits online but some neighbors dismiss the videos as staged. Then there is also the fact that the bridge was built after that story would have taken place. At that point, the legend starts to fall apart but the myth carries on.
(Note from Lori: the bridge was built in 1901, REPLACING the original wooden bridge built around 1850.)
“People come here and they see, well, we have had some sightings here. One as recent as this weekend,” Smith said. “You have to live here to see what we see and hear what we hear because when we first come here we were skeptical. There’s something here that people are seeing and feeling and when we come to the bridge, We feel it,” Smith said. “I haven’t seen anything but we feel it,” Smith said.
Other neighbors tell NEWS CHANNEL 12 that they have actually met relatives of “Stuckey” who claim their ancestor was accused of murder after a dispute over a hog. But, again, the evidence is lacking.
TWO of my books are up for public opinion – the scariest thing in the whole world, no?
The 2013 AuthorsdB Book Cover Contest has placed the voting in your hands. I have TWO, yes, TWO books up for awards in THREE categories.
1) An Orphan’s Heartis a semi-finalist in the history category – VOTE HERE
2) and is a semi-finalist for COVER OF THE YEAR –VOTE HERE!
3) The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge is a semi-finalist in the mystery/thriller category – VOTE HERE!
I can’t thank you enough for supporting indie authors and all the crazy work we do. Today, I’m wearing my publicist hat! It looks good, huh?
I’d like to send out a HUGE thank you to my book designer ELITE BOOK DESIGNwho created BOTH covers.I’ve been contributing a bunch of blogs over there as a thank you, so pop over and show them some love. If you need any indie publishing work done, from video trailers to website banners to book covers, ELITE is the company to use!
Hi Kidleys! Big favor to ask of you. Please vote and pass along to your friends. Repost, Share, Tweet, Shout from the rooftops!
My book cover for AN ORPHAN’S HEART is up for an award in the 2013 AuthorsdB Book Cover Contest in the History category. It was created by Elite Book Design and is definitely one of my favorite covers. You can vote on both Facebook for COVER OF THE YEAR and on AuthorsdB in the History category. You can vote once every 24 hours. Please bookmark it and do so!!
My book cover for THE LEGEND OF STUCKEY’S BRIDGE is also up for an award in the Mystery/Thriller category. It too was created by Elite Book Design. Please vote at AuthorsdB.
Welcome to the Hallowe’en Blog Hop Trick or Treat! Thank you so much for stopping by and thank you to author Francine Howarth for organizing the spooky event.
The following is an excerpt from my book The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge. Please leave a comment at the bottom of the page and include the words “Trick or Treat” to be entered into my witches’ hat for a Kindle copy of the book. Only one copy will be given away, and a winner will be chosen at the witching hour Oct 31. That’s midnight Pacific Time for you mortals. Check back Nov 1 to see if you’re the winner and to claim your prize. Have a safe and ghoulish Hallowe’en, my little toadlets!
The fog was dense, and the freckled boy couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him, but he ran as fast as he could, tree branches whipping at his face. He tripped on a log, lunged forward, and nearly hit a tree head-on, but he caught his balance with his hands on the large tree trunk. He swung around behind it, leaning his back into it. He put his hand to his mouth to quiet his panting and felt the stickiness of sap from the trunk. He tried to wipe it off his face with his other hand, but that one was full of sap, too. He breathed slowly through his nose as he listened for his pursuer. He didn’t hear anything.
He was shaking uncontrollably and couldn’t stop himself. He clenched his jaw so his teeth wouldn’t chatter. Maybe he lost the murderer. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was all a nightmare. Maybe he didn’t just witness an ax splitting his friend’s head wide open. He looked up into the black arms of the branches but couldn’t see anything but shadows. He glanced around in every direction, not being able to see more than a few feet in front of him. Where should he go? He didn’t know where he was or how long he would have to run to find safety. The nearest person could be miles and miles away. He didn’t see a place to hide. He would have to keep running. Surely the man wouldn’t follow him all night.
He held his breath and listened. Nothing. Which way? His breathing had begun to return to normal when a twig snapped loudly behind him. He gasped.
“You can’t hide forever, Freckles,” came a singsong voice. “Come out and let’s talk about this.”
He bolted in the direction opposite the voice, straight into the thick fog, running as fast as his feet would carry him. Vines and barbs grabbed at his legs, and branches scratched his arms like the claws of an unknown creature trying to rip off bits of his skin. He ignored them.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he felt an immense pain on his forehead, but he knew it couldn’t possibly be his pursuer’s ax. The murderer was way behind him.
He reached up to his face and felt something metal—something with a wooden handle. What is this!? The thick fog had limited his visibility. The sticky, warm wetness dripping into his eyes blinded him completely. His face was covered in warmth. Is this blood? He moved his hands over the object stuck in his forehead. A rake? Where did a rake come from? And how did it hit him squarely in the forehead? Confused, frightened, and in pain, he dropped to his knees, and an agonizing scream involuntarily escaped his lips as the long, wooden handle of the rake reached the ground before his knees did. The tines jerked upward, ripping off the front half of his scalp. The last thing he felt was the ax on the back of his head.
I received a sweet and awesome 5-star review for The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridgefrom Trudi LoPreto at Readers’ Favorite.
“Lori Crane has written a nail-biter that will keep you up all night. This is a five star winner and Lori Crane is a must-read author.”
You just can’t get any better than that! I’m tickled. You can read the entire reviewHERE.
I was so excited to read it, because honestly, I’ve been working so hard on my next book, that I haven’t thought much about Old Man Stuckey and his exploits. Old Man Stuckey was a serial killer. He was a sociopath. He was pure evil. However, he had a confident swagger about him that made most women swoon in his presence. Here’s a snippet about one of his conquests. This is one of my favorite scenes from the book. Enjoy!
Scene: Stuckey’s Inn, 1900, Mississippi, the young lady refers to him as Mr. Mason for he didn’t tell her his real name, as usual.
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He found her on the front porch, sitting in a rocking chair with her laced-up boots propped up on the railing. She was gently pushing the chair back and forth with her foot and staring down into a book on her lap.
He watched her from the doorway for a while. The sun was shining on the railing, and her skirt had risen above the height of her boots. He could see a couple inches of her bare leg and longed to see more. He hadn’t had the pleasure of a woman’s company for quite some time, and he wanted to take her right then and there on the porch in the sunshine. He wanted to see the expression on her face in the light of day as he pushed that dress all the way up to her hips.
“I see you found the books I left out for you.” He grinned as he sauntered across the porch, his boots clicking on the old wood planks.
“Yes, I did. Thank you very much.” She smiled up at him with stunning blue eyes, and when she met his gaze, he thought he would explode with desire.
“Which one did you choose?” He strolled in front of her and leaned his back against the porch post, close enough to touch her bare leg.
She simultaneously pulled her boots down from the railing and flipped the cover closed. She read, “A Study in Scarlet by Arthur Conan Doyle.”
“Ah, Sherlock Holmes.”
“Have you read it, sir?”
“Yes, I have. I love a good mystery. I believe he has another book also.”
“Yes, The Sign of Four.” She smiled. “Do you like to read, Mr. Mason?”
“I love to read, Miss Summers.” He gazed deeply into her eyes, realizing by the fire glowing there that it would not be girlish innocence he was about to find.
She blushed and looked down at the book.
Oh, this is a game she likes to play. “Why do you look away from me?”
“I…um…I just don’t feel comfortable.”
“With the way I look at you?”
She glanced up at him through her long eyelashes and did not answer.
“Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”
She blushed and looked down again.
He was enjoying this game. Time to increase the stakes. Softly he said, “Victoria.”
She looked up at him.
He wanted this girl, and knew exactly what she needed to hear. “You are undoubtedly the loveliest woman I have ever seen, and I’m deeply honored just to be in your presence.”
She was speechless as she gazed into his eyes. This time she did not blush or look away. The game was over.
“May I kiss you?” he whispered.
She did not answer.
He took that as a yes.
He gently took the book from her lap, placed it on the side table, and pulled her to her feet. She did not resist. He wrapped his hand around her, placing his palm on the small of her back, and he gently pulled her toward him. Their lips met and she responded to his kiss, placing her hands on his chest. He kissed her deeper. She didn’t waver. He pulled the pin from her hair, letting it fall down to her waist. He wrapped his fingers in it and firmly pulled her head back so he could kiss her neck. He put his other hand on her upper back and pulled her closer to him, feeling her snug bodice press against his chest. He held her there for a moment, then whispered into her ear, “Thank you.”
He released her.
She stood there, dumbstruck and unmoving, like a mule wearing a frosted blue satin dress.
“Would you like some tea, Victoria?” He grinned and strutted across the porch, back into the house.
It was like taking candy from a baby.
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The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge is available at Amazon.com and all online book retailers.
I met (online) a cousin on my dad’s side. We share a great grandfather, who I haven’t written about in my blog yet, but I guess I’ll have to get on that now. She showed me a picture of a plaque located in the Lauderdale County Courthouse in Meridian, Mississippi. Our mutual grandfather, Thomas G Lafayette Keene, was apparently the treasurer of Lauderdale County from 1904-1907.
That was awesome! But that wasn’t the funny part.
The book I released in June is called “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge.” It takes place in Lauderdale County and you can click on “my books” at the top of the page to read all about it. The man chasing the evil Old Man Stuckey throughout the book was Sheriff J.R. Temple. Go back to the picture and look at the top name.
You probably heard me scream from my office last night when I saw that! My books are historical fiction, based on real people and real events, but it is still strange to see his name etched out in marble and to be reminded that he was indeed a real person and not just a character in my head. And that he knew my great grandfather. 🙂
I had so much fun doing this interview. Elizabeth is a warm and gracious hostess, and also a busy teacher, librarian, historical fiction author, and reader. I don’t know where she finds the time to do things like chat with me, but the pleasure was all mine.
You know what’s really strange? The feeling you get on release day.
One would think that after the effort and confusion of toiling over a story line, endless months of rewrites and revisions, editing, doubting everything including your writing abilities, correcting, changing, seeing all the red marks on the editor’s copy, more revisions, and tons and tons or proofreading, that one would feel a huge sense of accomplishment and anticipation. If nothing else, just a sense of satisfaction or relief that the project is finished.
But no…
I always feel like I just sent my kindergartner off to her first day of class without her lunch. I know she’s going to get on the wrong bus, the teacher won’t like her, and she’ll be picked on by the other kids.
It’s not a good feeling.
That being said…here’s my new release. Sigh. Pout. Whine. Fingers crossed.
Also, today I’m leaving the country until August 1st – not because of the book – I actually have a job and am going to work. So, Stuckey, play nice with the other kids until I get home. I hope to see a good report card when I return.
“The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge” is available in paperback and Kindle at AmazonHERE.
My new book “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge” is due to be released June 21, 2013. It will be available in paperback, Kindle, and Nook at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers. Here’s the hot-off-the-presses video trailer which will give you a shiver up your spine.
In 1901, the Virginia Bridge & Iron Company began re-building a fifty-year-old Mississippi bridge. In the middle of the project, they began discovering bodies buried on the banks of the river.
Legend has it, he was so evil, he was even thrown out of the notorious Dalton Gang. Years later, he opened an inn near the river, and on foggy nights, boatmen witnessed him pacing back and forth across the bridge, waving his lantern, offering travelers a hot meal and a soft bed.
Those unfortunate enough to take him up on the hospitality were often never seen again.
To this day, eerie experiences are still reported around the bridge that now bears his name. If you travel down to Stuckey’s Bridge, be careful, for not much else is known about the man locals refer to as Old Man Stuckey…until now.
Lori Crane 