Halloween Movie Quote Trivia Answers

Thanks to everyone who stopped by to check out Movie Quote Trivia on Monday. Here are the answers:

1) Easy ~ “A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” — Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) The Silence of the Lambs, 1991

 

2) Medium ~ “I am your number one fan. There is nothing to worry about. You are going to be just fine. I am your number one fan.” — Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates) Misery, 1990

3) Movie Buff ~ “Have you checked the children?” — Curt Duncan (Tony Beckley) Escaped madman, When A Stranger Calls, 1979

Bonus scary movie quote:

“There’s a monster outside my room, can I have a glass of water?” — Bo Hess (Abigail Breslin) Signs, 2002

Have a very Happy Halloween and stay safe! Due to time constraints, this is my last post on Dishin' It Out as a regular blogger. I will be back when my next release comes out to tell you all about it. And you can always find me here:

http://authorjamiehill.blogspot.com/  

Thanks so much for your faithful following!

 

Movie Quote Trivia ~ Halloween Edition ~ by Jamie Hill

Time for another game of Movie Quote Trivia. This one is in honor of Halloween! I'll give you three quotes, ones I consider easy, medium, and Movie Buff! And this month I've included a bonus scary movie quote. Can you name the movie and better yet, the character who said the lines? Try not to cheat!

1) Easy ~ “A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

2) Medium ~ “I am your number one fan. There is nothing to worry about. You are going to be just fine. I am your number one fan.” 

3) Movie Buff ~ “Have you checked the children?”

Bonus scary movie quote:

“There’s a monster outside my room, can I have a glass of water?” 

Come back Thursday for the answers. Have a great week! 

HALLOWEEN

     

   Hal·low·een - noun: Hallowe'en -the night of October 31, the eve of All Saints' Day, commonly          celebrated by children who dress in costume and solicit candy or other treats door-to-door.

On Hallowe'en (All Hallows' Eve), in Poland, believers are taught to pray out loud as they walk through the forests in order that the souls of the dead might find comfort; in Spain, Christian priests toll their church bells in order to allow their congregants to remember the dead on All Hallows' Eve. The Christian Church traditionally observed Hallowe'en through a vigil "when worshipers would prepare themselves with prayers and fasting prior to the feast day itself." This church service is known as the Vigil of All Hallows or the Vigil of All Saints; an initiative known as Night of Light seeks to further spread the Vigil of All Hallows throughout Christendom. After the service, "suitable festivities and entertainments" often follow, as well as a visit to the graveyard or cemetery, where flowers and candles are often placed in preparation for All Hallows' Day.

The traditions and importance of Halloween vary greatly among countries that observe it. In Scotland and Ireland, traditional Halloween customs include children dressing up in costume going "guising", holding parties, while other practices in Ireland include lighting bonfires, and having firework displays. Mass transatlantic immigration in the 19th century popularized Halloween in North America, and celebration in the United States and Canada has had a significant impact on how the event is observed in other nations. This larger North American influence, particularly in iconic and commercial elements, has extended to places such as South America, Australia, New Zealand, (most) continental Europe, Japan, and other parts of East Asia

Halloween Superstitions - Halloween has always been a holiday filled with mystery, magic and superstition. It began as a Celtic end-of-summer festival during which people felt especially close to deceased relatives and friends. For these friendly spirits, they set places at the dinner table, left treats on

doorsteps and along the side of the road and lit candles to help loved ones find their way back to the spirit world. Today's Halloween ghosts are often depicted as more fearsome and malevolent, and our customs and superstitions are scarier too. We avoid crossing paths with black cats, afraid that they might bring us bad luck. This idea has its roots in the Middle Ages, when many people believed that witches avoided detection by turning themselves into cats. We try not to walk under ladders for the same reason. This superstition may have come from the ancient Egyptians, who believed that triangles were sacred; it also may have something to do with the fact that walking under a leaning ladder tends to be fairly unsafe. And around Halloween, especially, we try to avoid breaking mirrors, stepping on cracks in the road or spilling salt.

But what about the Halloween traditions and beliefs that today's trick-or-treaters have forgotten all about? Many of these obsolete rituals focused on the future instead of the past and the living instead of the dead. In particular, many had to do with helping young women identify their future husbands and reassuring them that they would someday—with luck, by next Halloween—be married.

In 18th-century Ireland, a matchmaking cook might bury a ring in her mashed potatoes on Halloween night, hoping to bring true love to the diner who found it. In Scotland, fortune-tellers recommended that an eligible young woman name a hazelnut for each of her suitors and then toss the nuts into the fireplace. The nut that burned to ashes rather than popping or exploding, the story went, represented the girl's future husband. (In some versions of this legend, confusingly, the opposite was true: The nut that burned away symbolized a love that would not last.)

Another tale had it that if a young woman ate a sugary concoction made out of walnuts, hazelnuts and nutmeg before bed on Halloween night she would dream about her future husband. Young women tossed apple-peels over their shoulders, hoping that the peels would fall on the floor in the shape of their future husbands' initials; tried to learn about their futures by peering at egg yolks floating in a bowl of water; and stood in front of mirrors in darkened rooms, holding candles and looking over their shoulders for their husbands' faces.

Other rituals were more competitive. At some Halloween parties, the first guest to find a burr on a chestnut-hunt would be the first to marry; at others, the first successful apple-bobber would be the first down the aisle.

Ginger's Sunday Sampler of What's to Come...

Although my passion is primarily western historical novels, sometimes my muse comes from an entirely different setting with a story to tell.  I'm happy to present a little sample of my "coming soon" mystery suspense, A Novel Murder.  I already have the cover and I'm so stoked I had to share it here for the first time.  Consider this a debut of another Michelle Lee creation.  Now all I have to do is tie up the lose ends and get the story to my publisher.  I think Michelle's cover art is the kick in the pants I need.  :)

Blurb:

Unexplained visions, murder and mayhem…that’s what Michelle’s life has come to, and she desperately wants out of her detective position to be behind her own desk, being the author she’s forced to conceal behind a pseudonym.  Even though the fodder for her first book came from past cases, if she can just write her break-through novel under her real name, she’ll leave the force, switch her genre to romance, and pursue the relationship she wants with her hunky partner. His desire is evident, but fraternization on the job is forbidden, and she can’t gamble with the income she needs. Still, maybe those horrible visions seen through the killer’s eyes will go away for good if she’s no longer part of the local police department.

Excerpt:

 The smell of decomposition hung heavy in the air of the small bedroom--a nauseating odor that defied description. A homicide detective in Philadelphia for nearly five years, Michelle Wallace still found dealing with death unsettling. She clutched a tissue to her nose, nerves shuddering through her as she surveyed the posed body of the deceased. In the queen-sized bed, a young woman in her late twenties or early thirties, lay with hands and arms crossed over naked breasts, her blue eyes fixed in a permanent stare. Her mouth, lips painted bright red, twisted in what was probably her last attempt to scream. The piece of rope embedded around her throat left ligature marks on her otherwise flawless skin.

The room hummed with activity. Uniformed officer, with gloved hands, went through drawers and the closet. No one dared touch the body until the medical examiner arrived. Michelle already knew what he’d find as the cause of death. She’d seen the whole thing happen. Not literally, but in an unbidden vision; something she couldn’t help.

Shell’s gaze shifted to the nightstand, specifically the novel laying there, The Perfect Crime by M.D. Lynch. If only her fellow officers knew she authored the book. Her pseudonym, consisting of her initials and her mother’s maiden name, kept her writing persona separate from her professional side. Although proud of her work, she dared not brag. They guys would never let her live down the fact that she used some past cases to pattern her storylines. Only her mother and her best friend, Naomi, knew about Michelle’s fiction passion, and they’d been sworn to secrecy. No book signings or personal appearances for this author until she wrote a breakthrough novel and could earn her way as an author, and leave the force.

Her attention flipped back to the hectic scene transpiring around her, especially the three officers ogling the shapely corpse. She gave a dismissing wave. “Shoo, get on with your job. There’s nothing to see here.” She rolled her eyes, disgusted at the lengths men would go to in order to glimpse a bared breast--even on a dead woman.

Michelle’s partner, Tony Rizetti, turned from the building super in the hallway and came inside. He eyed the body, his brow raised. “How long you think she‘s been dead, Meesh?”

God, she hated his nickname for her. Why couldn’t he call her Shell like everyone else? So many times she’d asked, but the sparkle in his eye when he defied her showed his stubborn side.

Already certain of her answer, she shrugged at his question. “Three, maybe four days--but that’s just a guess.” The lie about the time involved rolled off her tongue as smooth as butter. She turned and eyed the body, knowing for sure that exactly three days ago the woman had been brutally attacked and murdered.


*****************

I hope you enjoyed my little teaser and that you'll be on the look out for it. Watch the coming soon section t Books We Love for the actual release date, and while you're there, check out all the new releases, including the "special editions."  Also, here's information released on the latest exciting contest hosted by Books We Love:

Ask our readers and friends to visit  http://bwlpp.blogspot.com/2012/09/howling-halloween-contest_8.html

or direct them right to the contest page on our website:

http://bookswelove.net/contest.php

 

Things That Go Bump In The Night...

My guest today is Jim Whitaker, humorous and talented author of Hill of Beans. Jim's been here before because I generally "blogjack" his posts, but always with his blessing. Enjoy his take on Halloween:

Halloween – A Few Transparent Thoughts about Ghosts

So, why so self-assured that your home is not haunted?

Granted …Your home isn't necessarily haunted just because somebody or perhaps … some thing … flung the last known ice cube tray back into the freezer overturned with just one cube left in it.

Your home isn't necessarily haunted just because somebody or perhaps … some thing … spread cheese popcorn residue all over the living room carpet you just vacuumed.
Your home isn't necessarily haunted just because somebody or perhaps … some thing … locked the door you just exited with your keys inside lying on the kitchen table.

Your home isn't necessarily haunted just because somebody or perhaps … some thing … left your toolbox open on the driveway in the evening and the rain poured at midnight.

Your home isn't necessarily haunted just because somebody or perhaps … some thing … keeps resetting your computer to all things Justin Bieber.

Your home isn't necessarily haunted just because somebody or perhaps … some thing … exchanged those four $20's you know you had in your wallet just minutes ago with a single $1 bill.

Your home isn't necessarily haunted, but … maybe. Ha, ha. (Insert a throaty, ominous chuckle there, thank you.)

We never truly know what lurks amidst the at-rest nights or the time-we-are-away days in our homes, now do we? Does that realization evoke in you an apprehension, a chill, a cautionary shudder? Well, it's probably all just the dumb cat so give it a piece of cheese, throw it out and disavow any knowledge of its whereabouts.

And what if it's not the dumb cat? What if it's a dumb ghost after all?

To find out you can call in professional ghost hunters or local paranormal society investigators. Then watch in layman-wonder as these experts in spooky-spooky set up in your home dozens of elaborate cameras and recorders and thermometers and meters and laser fields, all high-tech gear enabling them – after dark with the lights out – to better run around bumping into one another screaming "Oh, (bleep)" and "What the (bleep) was that?" every time your goldfish gurgles in its bowl. I think the bleeps are free as part of the service.

To find out if there is a "presence" in your home you can call in one of those medium –small, large, whatever – people who claim communication with the deceased. They say they can "see" and ask questions of and get responses from any passed-away relative or friend of yours. Except, of course, that vanished third cousin who evidently passed over before repaying the $259.78 you lent him to buy cigarettes and a tank of gas. Even if he's just faking death that guy's way outa here and he ain't comin' back.

To find out if a ghost is floating about you can consult what's called a "sensitive." Many sensitives promote themselves with dramatic paintings of young Native American maidens wearing feather boas and little or nothing else – a ticklish prospect. A full-fledged sensitive is allegedly able to feel, smell, hear, know, taste and see the presence of passed spirits. I'm sensitive enough to feel that if you spend money on these people then they smelled, heard, knew, tasted and saw you coming.
Now before you ghost hunters and mediums – large or small, whatever – and believers in the realm of spirits think me an irrational skeptic, would I ever discount the existence of ghosts here in the season of Halloween? "Never," he cried with an eerie, distorted laugh and a contorted countenance highlighting his scarred and tangled brow while his gnarled fingers pounded with ee-vil belligerence the faded keys of the dusty and ancient pipe organ.

In fact, let me tell you the true story about Helen.

Several years back, a couple we know rented a stone house in one of the nearby macbeths – I mean hamlets.

The house was cozy, cool and subdued in the summer, warm and welcoming in the winter. And talk about location, location, location.

After the couple moved in … well, things started happening (you were expecting otherwise?) They'd leave and return to a thermostat reset at a temperature higher than they had left it. Plates moved. Glasses rattled. A pipe from his collection disappeared. Voices could be heard when the windows were open.

They named their ethereal resident "Anastasia."

Scary stuff, huh?

Of course, after they replaced the thermostat, bought a new china cabinet, discovered that one of the neighbors had taken up smoking to ease stress brought on by asthma, and shut the windows … Anastasia moved out. Just couldn't stand all those changes.

So if you suspect you have a ghost in your home this Halloween, throw a white sheet over him and force him to sit on the front porch all evening. A night of some of those trick or treaters will exorcise anybody … or any thing.

Time for Spooky Tales

My grandmother was a large part of my life. I stayed with her and my grandpa during every school break because she spoiled me. There, I was the only child and not one of four, and I loved her crazy stories and jokes. If I was with her, I was happy.

Because my grandpa had such violent nightmares, Granny and I shared her bed, and I became very used to the familiar smell of Ben Gay she used on her arthritic joints. I associated the medicinal odor with her--comforting, warming and safe.

Grandpa was the first to pass away, and Granny moved in with my mother. When Granny went to join Grandpa, I flew down from No. Cal to So. Cal to help my mother with the arrangements. The night after the funeral, Mom and I were upstairs in the loft watching TV and trying to rationalize the loss of someone we both loved so much. For whatever reason, I decided to go downstairs for something, and halfway down, I walked into a wafting cloud of familiarity.

I paused. "Are you using Ben Gay?", I yelled back up to mom.

"No," she answered, with a definite questioning tone.

"Never mind," I called out. How could I explain what I suspected? Would Mom think me daft...I thought I might be. But the smell grew stronger, stealing the existing air around me and replacing it with Granny's nightly odor. I stood and inhaled, puzzled, and frozen in place.

"I smell it, too." I heard Mom say.

I knew then that I wasn't loony. Those same familiar feelings from all my summers of comfort and safety enveloped me, and I knew Granny stopped by to let me know that she was okay and watching over us.

Do I believe in ghosts? Yep. Since then, I sure do.

Congrats to Sheri

Congrats goes to Sheri,
She's the lucky winner whose name i drew from the witch's hat...Sheri, please email me offline at cnnblaylock@yahoo.com so I can send you your book...Thanks to everyone who left comments today...And TY, Miz Ging, for having me as your guest today...Saylym/Tabs