I have many personalities and egos living inside of me. Don’t worry. They only come out and play when I write. One of them is Bethany Ann.

Bethany Ann is a backwoods, southern demon-fighter who hangs out in the swamps of Louisiana. She isn’t a complicated person, however she is a deep-thinker. Split-in-halves is a prime example. Here is her explanation as told to me at twilight when fire-flys twinkle and dimensions fade:

“Split-in-halves are souls that make a pact of strong friendships long before they step into human skin. Sometimes they stay tied together and are called twins. Most of the time, however, they split and go in different directions. No matter how long they might wander alone, split-in-halves are never lost from their other half. That’s way a stranger can look so familiar. Why close friendships be made within seconds. Their bond is golden, blessed by all that is holy. It’s rare split-in-halves remember their other half while in human form. They feel kinship to the other and a strong bond, but can’t put their finger on why.”

This past weekend I got to unite with one of my split-in-halves. How do I know this soul is my split-in-half? I was immediately drawn to this person. This magnetic pull was so strong, yet so explainable, I just had to trust my gut.(My gut is seldom wrong.)We sat in bright sunshine with nature surrounding us and made small talk before we dove into deeper conversations tinged with spirituality, science, and philosophy. Like mystics of old we shared ideas and wondered about the meaning of life, God, and our personal connection to all of it.

There are times my soul hungers for this kind of give-and-take. Finding like-minded people is a challenge at times, but I can always count on my split-in-halves to seek and find me. Our insights and questions full-fill and enlighten yet always leaves me yearning for more.

Do you have a split-in-half? I hope so.

Split-in-halves do a body good.

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Gremlins of the Mind

Some of you may be familiar with the song, “Windmills of the Mind.” It’s one of my favorites. However, I have Gremlins of the Mind.

Gremlins were portrayed in the movie as cute, cuddly, little fur-babies, especially Gizmo. Cute and sweet until they got wet or were fed after midnight. Then they turned mean, crazy, and destructive. I choose to think the Gremlins I deal with are cute and sweet but extremely mischievous.

All of us have Gremlins in our lives. Ever lose something that minutes before was in plain sight only to show up later in the exact same spot before it went missing? Gremlins. They steal things. They’re especially fond of bling. Shiny jewelry, hair barrettes, even coins. I can put up with that. I chuckle and say out loud, “Ok, you furry, little bastards, very funny. You need to bring it back.” Lost things eventually show up. I say, “thank you, and go on.

The problem is, my gremlins not only “borrow” my bling, but my thoughts as well.

Take yesterday for example. I spent all morning looking for two necklaces. All my jewelry live in a standing armoire. I got that piece of furniture just for that purpose. I was tried of my nick-naks being stuck in various places. I KNEW those necklaces were in the armoire. But they weren’t. None of my necklaces were. WTH?

Exhausted from looking all through the house, which was a big waste of time, I flopped down in a chair and pouted. My ex-husband, (who I live with —a story for another time) asked what was wrong. When I told him,he asked, “did you check the sides?” Well, damn, Sam. I’d totally forgotten the sides of the armorie swung out. The necklaces were there.

That afternoon I went to Walmart. I wanted cream cheese. What did I buy? Sour cream!

I tore my car apart looking for my sunglasses. Bought a new pair only to find the old pair on top of my head.

Years ago, Mama searched the kitchen from top to bottom looking for the coffee pot only to find it in the refrigerator. At the time, I thought she was losing her mind. I understand now.

She had Gremlins of the Mind!

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Cats are from Venus; Dogs are from Pluto?

Since Halloween is upon us I thought I’d share one of my best woo-woo stories with y’all. I swear every bit of this is true:

A few years ago I went to see an old friend and have dinner with her. It was one of those perfect summer nights. Not too hot, not to cold. Warm, gentle breeze blowing. After supper we went outside on the patio to have a drink and enjoy the evening. Around dusky-dark the stars started to pop out one-by-one.

I began to wax philosophical. Don’t laugh. I do this quite regularly with people I’m comfortable with and who appreciate stimulating, deep conversations. Venus was showing off this evening, shining brightly in the sky so I asked, “I wonder if aliens have pets?” Of course my friend laughed but joined in my musing just the same.

“How will we never know?” was her response. I continued on with my thoughts.

“Venus is my ruling planet and since I’m a crazy cat lady, I choose to believe Venus has beautiful, planetary felines.”

When it was time to leave, my freind walked me to my car. Low and behold, here came a cat strolling up her driveway. “Do you know this cat?” I asked.

“Nope. I’ve lived here two years and have never seen him before.”

My car window was down and Mr. Cat immediately jumped into my car and curled-up in my back seat. Laughing, I opened the car door and sat beside him. He was a beautiful Siamese cat. Now, I’m not going to say all Siamese cats are crazier than a loon, but every one I’ve encountered are wild, loud, and nutter than a jar of Peter Pan. Even still, they are one of the most beautiful felines God created. This particular one was quite striking with its blue eyes and silky fur. And he was a little lovey-dove too. He purred and rubbed against me like he’d known me for years. I noticed he wore a collar and a tag. Thinking the tag would have his owner’s address I turned it over to read it. No address just his name.

Want to guess what his name was?


If I’m lying, I’m dying.

“Guess that answers your question.” My freind said.

So, folks, yes. Aliens have pets. Venus has Siamese Cats which explains why they are so goofy. They come from outer-space!

This magical moment in time prompted yet another question from me.

“If cats are from Venus, does that mean dogs are from Pluto?”

Inquiring minds want to know.

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Who Ya’ Gonna’ Call?—-Not Me!

Ok. I am a tarot card reader. Ok. I’m a paranormal/supernatural author. Ok. I like most things woo-woo. BUT. I do have limits and ghost hunting/busting is one of them.

I was channel surfing the other night and came across The Travel Channel. This channel features a lot of paranormal shows and ghost hunting programs. One program scares the willies out of me, even though I am addicted to it.

This show features four guys that go around the country looking for ghosts. They investigate haunted houses, museums, old hospitals, sanatoriums, old prisons,(for some reason they really like old prisons.), basically any place that is reported haunted. However, these men aren’t searching for Casper the Friendly Ghost. Noooooo. They hunt for demons. Yep. That’s right. Good ol’ slobbering, ugly, evil demons from hell.

If you go looking for something, you usually find it.

Here I was all tucked in on the couch. Lights off. Cat curled by my side. A bowl of popcorn in my lap. All comfy-cozy and ready to watch these guys. Comfy-cozy didn’t last long.

Right out of the gate, they encounter a demon. True to demon behavior the first thing it says in voice that makes every hair on my body stand up straight, is “GET OUT.” Well, of course that is just a teaser to these guys. I’d of made a new door getting the hell out there but they not only say no, they provoke the demon!

“No, we aren’t going to leave. You want a piece of me? Ok. Here I am, come get me!”

The next thing I knew, the demon’s face appeared in the mirror and attacked the ghost hunters. I about peed my pants. Popcorn went flying. Cat went flying. Turned on every light in the place.

They poked the bear (or demon in this case) and when they got attacked, they went berserk, freaked out, and had a major melt-down. Well, what do you expect? You asked for it. These guys are bat-crap crazy! It’s a classic case of, “be careful what you wish for.”

The moral of this story is, if one night you and your buddies are kicking back, downing a few cold ones, and somebody says, “Let’s go ghost-hunting.” DON’T! Believe me, the last thing you want is a demon following you home for dinner.

Leave the ghost-hunting/busting to the professionals. At least they get paid for their stupidity.

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I’m Back!

Well, ya’ just can’t keep a good Witchy Woman down. After many years, I am back to share new information and tons of experience in the area of Woo-Woo. (aka: supernatural and paranormal area.)

Just to refresh your memories: I am a professional Tarot reader as well as an award-winning author of paranormal/supernatural books. Many people ask how I got started reading the Tarot. It runs in my blood for one thing. Both Grandma and Aunt Anna were “gifted” in this area, so it just comes natural. For another, it always fascinated me how a perfect stranger could throw a few cards and be able to tell so much of my past, present, and future. So, I decided to find out. I signed up for Tarot reading classes and the rest is history.

In upcoming posts I will share some of my experiences, pet-peeves, tips, and knowledge I’ve gained over the 30 years of reading cards. Today is a combo of misconceptions, pet-peeves and a tip.

Misconception #1: Tarot Cards and Readers are not fortune tellers! Sorry, but no one but God knows your future. Because of a little thing, called “free-will” futures are not absolute. Now, I know this sounds like a cop-out. Never-the-less it’s the truth. The cards are only tools that can reveal new possibilities and help one gain new perspective on subjects.

Pet Peeve #1: You’re cursed! Oh, boy, this gets my blood to pumping. If a reader says there is a curse on you and for ten dollars they can light a white candle and get rid of it, RUN! This is bull-shit! Very, very few people are cursed and it they are believe me, money and a white candle ain’t gonna get rid of it! Sincere readers help and give hope. They do NOT scare the crap out of their clients.

Tip #1: Beware the “Dollar-A-Minute“: Most readers charge a dollar a minute. There is nothing wrong with this. We are providing a service and are working and should be compensated. However, just be aware. Some readers are in it for the “buck”. Ten-minutes for ten dollars? Yeah, that sounds great. But at 9:59 the reader throws out a tease by saying: “A tall, dark stranger will enter you life.” Well of course, you want to know more! The next thing you know, a ten-minute reading stretches out longer and your ten dollars is shot.

That sums it up for now. In the next weeks we will examine the cards and their meanings. Until then, stay safe. Be kind.

Y’all come back now, ya’ hear!

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For Jeff: A Guardian Angel in Waiting

angelThis past weekend I attended the 28th Annual Ozark Mountain UFO conference in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. I took my book, Daughter of the Howling Moon to sell. I also took my tarot cards to do readings. ETs loved Daughter and my tarot reading was rad.

I’ve been reading the Tarot for over twenty years. I’ve read at numerous physic fairs, birthdays, bachelorette, girls-night-out parties, even a writing retreat. But I have never had a connection to a client so profound or rewarding as one I experienced this weekend.

Tarot readers are light workers. It is our job to bring hope, inspiration, and guidance to our customers. If you’ve ever experienced a reading that left you depressed or has scared the be-Jesus out of you, then you got a hold of a bad reader. Period. While we above-average readers won’t sugar-coat our messages received from a higher source, we will always find a silver-lining of hope in what we say. That is our job.

I pride myself on being the most joyful, fun-loving tarot reader you’ll find. A reading should be enjoyable. While I am quite serious in the messages I deliver, I get as excited, overjoyed, and enthusiastic as my client. And when I get on a roll, the room shines with light and rings with laughter. I am not a medium. I don’t usually see dead people. I don’t usually talk to them either. At times they have come through while reading, and I will acknowledge their presence. But this is rare.

Why am I telling you this? Because this weekend I had three overpowering readings for two sisters and their mother which changed both them and me. Forever.

I saw the two young women walk in together the first day of the conference. There was quite a crowd around but I noticed them right away. They didn’t walk past me, instead they talked to the gentleman who had a table next to mine. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, but time-after-time I found myself drawn to them. At one point, one of girls became quite emotional and struggled to keep tears from streaking mascara and blush. It was a losing battle. I felt empathy toward her. Not something I experience often. Again, I felt pulled but didn’t responded to the tug. However, I told myself if I got a second chance to speak to them, I’d jump on it.

As Universe ordained, I saw them the next day. I took a deep breath and said hello. Out of the blue I asked one of the women if she had a brother. When she confirmed that she did, that was all it took. The flood gates broke open. Her brother had not passed, never-the-less he was directing everything I said. How do I know this? Because I was speaking and telling her things I have never said before. Ever.

I won’t go into everything that went down between us, (which was quite a lot) because that is extremely non-professional, morally wrong, and, to be honest, no one’s business. Tarot readers are bound by an unspoken code not to blab about readings.  It’s an invasion of privacy. Nine times out of ten, I don’t remember what I say anyway. True the words are coming out of my mouth, but they are not mine. They come from Universe. God. The Great White Spirit. The Force. Whatever you wish to call it. I am just a messenger. Even still I won’t discuss specifics of a reading.

The two women were sisters and looked so much alike they could’ve been twins. The messages I gave the younger of the two sparked tears once more, but not tears of sadness. Tears of relief. Tears of joy. The older of the two got a reading from me that hit home, gave confirmation, and bonded us like super glue. Their mother came to me afterwards, held my hand, and told me how grateful she was for the messages I had passed along, She said I had no idea what my words had done.

The next day, the first woman came back for a reading. Then Mom. Both of the readings were so full of joy that our laughter overwhelmed the room. People gawked. Some vendors even came over to ask what the heck was going on. The four of us were connected and experiencing a life-changing event. Shoot. Event doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. Miracle is more like it.

In Daughter of the Howling Moon, Bethany Ann speaks about split-in-halves. These three woman and their brother were more than split-in-halves. They were one entity so strong, so full of love that they had split into fourths to come to this lower realm to express and give that love physically. The brother even shed his wings and halo to come to this dimension to save a lost soul. To give unconditional love. A huge statement, I know, but the truth none-the-less. I told you, the whole thing was profound.

I helped one heal. Which in turn, helped all of them heal.

My messages gave them peace and positive confirmation. I told them over-and-over how grateful and how honored I was that Universe chose me to bring healing and harmony to them.

I may never see these women again or even met their brother. I feel quite confident, however, we will hook up in the higher realm and share laughter, love, and joy once more. I will never, ever forget these three exceptional women and the spiritual bond that connected us in that wrinkle in time. A bond that will last a lifetime and beyond. I hope they read this blog and know that they are the reason I went to the conference. They are the reason why I read the Tarot.

These three women along with their son/ brother are proof positive that angels do indeed walk among us.

R.H. Burkett: author-Daughter of the Howling Moon, The Rook and the Raven

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The Beauty of Magic

Truths by Ruth

crystal ball

I look at the above picture (taken my Jan Morrill) and wonder at the beauty of magic. See how the light plays and dances in the globe? How the hard world blurs, becomes softer, more mystical in its radiance? What a dark, gloomy place this world would be without magic.

So what do I mean my magic? Humans, being the way we are, try to make something difficult out something so simple. Oh sure, magic can be a grand thing, but most of the time, magic simmers just below the surface and waits to spill its essence in small seemingly quiet ways:
A license plate on the car in front of you bears your departed loved ones initials.
A smile.
A wink.
A kiss.
A red cardinal against the white of snow.
Twinkle lights in the trees.
A crow feather given in gratitude for the bird bath of water…

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Truths by Ruth

Da Vinci

One of the many reasons I love the movie, The Da Vinci Code is the relationship between Langdon and Sophie. Thankfully Dan Brown did not make their relationship a romantic one. I heard he was criticized for this, the public wanted a love story. The Da Vinci Code, however is not a romance. While there is great love between Langdon and Sophie, a romance between them would’ve ruined the story. Langdon would’ve died for Sophie. Sophie would’ve died for Langdon. For he was her Knight. Her hero.

When writing my new novel, Daughter of the Howling Moon, I too was criticized for not having a love relationship develop between Bethany Ann and Benjamin. But, just like the DaVinci Code, Daughter of the Howling Moon is far from a romance. I wanted the reader to concentrate of the message of good verses evil. A physical relationship between the…

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Caroll O’Connor = Sheriff Buford Tate

Truths by Ruth


One of the most asked questions I get as a writer is, “where do you come up with your ideas?”

If you were in a room of 100 writers and asked this question, odds are you’d get 100 different answers. I can only answer for me.

My ideas come from everyday life. I listen. I never know when a title will emerge from every day conversation. This is what happened with The Church of the Howling Moon, aka Daughter of theHowling Moon. The story, however came directly from the spirit of Bethany Ann. As I have often said, I channel my characters. How does this work?

I’m a TV and movie nut, therefore spirits will flash pictures of movie and TV stars they closely resemble in my head. Sometimes it isn’t the physical look they’re going for but the personality of that character in a particular role. Clear as…

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The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans

Truths by Ruth

Halloween by Pan Cat

A few years ago I took a Caribbean cruise. It was a Carnival cruise and the ship docked in New Orleans. I had one day to explore this City. OMG! What a wild time.
Yes, Bourbon Street is wild and wooly and stinky. Beads are thrown, bare breasts are flashed. (not mine, of course). The Howl at the Moon bar was packed and the music blared. Howl at the Moon bar may no longer be on Bourbon Street which would be unfortunate because I had a great time at that place. Howl at the Moon. How ironic. Who would’ve guessed then I would write a book called the Daughter of the Howling Moon? Coincidence? There be no such things.

Of course being a fan of the paranormal and a tarot card reader as well, I wanted to go to every Voodoo shop I could find. I confess, I know nothing…

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