One of my personally spooky experiences happened on a trip to--where else?--New Orleans. It was May, and we'd just come back from a cruise and decided to spend the weekend in the Crescent City before heading back home. One of our must-see sights was St. Louis Cemetery #1. (You can see a map of the tombs here.) It was a beautiful day, robin's egg blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. We went by the official resting place of Marie Laveau (tomb #347), saw all the coins and other gifts left for her, and the triple X's decorating the tomb. Then we went into the rest of the cemetery, following the guides' advice to follow the arrows on the ground.
Somehow I got separated from my friend and pretty much everyone else and ended up in a back patch. I tried to retrace my steps and that's when the hair started standing up on my arms and the temperature seemed to drop and my stomach got all twisted. Obviously I was not supposed to go against the direction of the white arrows but I didn't want to go further into the cemetery-- not realizing I was already in the back corner which explained why I couldn't find any arrows going in the direction I thought I needed to go. Eventually I did find my way back to the main avenues, never so happy to see people in my life. I didn't breathe easy until I went out the front gate and shook the heebie-jeebies off.
But what freaked me out more than going the wrong way was finding a tomb, #410, for a family named Leger. After I'd sold the first book in a series about a family named Legere, who pass down psychic abilities mother to daughter and has their roots in the free people of New Orleans.
**Seressia Glass is the award-winning author of numerous erotic paranormal and/or contemporary interracial or African-American romances.**