Hello and Welcome!

Today I’m very lucky to be interviewing KC Freeman author of Psychic In Suburbia.

Hi KC Freeman, thank you for agreeing to this interview.

For those readers not familiar with you, would you please tell us a bit about yourself?

Hi, I’m so happy to be here today with you. In short, I am an author of paranormal fiction and a fiction book editor. Currently, I live in Charlotte, North Carolina with my husband and fur baby Chihuahua, Harley. Our five children (4 boys, 1 girl) are all grown and flown hence giving me more time to write these days. Early adulthood, I did all the “expected” things – college in a boring major for job security, worked in in my career field in Washington, DC for the majority of my work life which drained all creativity from my bones and blood. Got married, popped out some kids and realized I didn’t even see them because I was working all the time so hubby and I made a radical decision to move where I could stay at home with my babies. Now that my babies are all grown, I get to live my dream of writing all the crazy stories that have been brewing in my head since I was a child. So far, I’ve published a handful of paranormal romance books with young heroines. Now that I identify with a different phase of life, I wanted to write from that perspective.

Who or What inspired you to become a writer?

I’ve been an obsessed reader since my early childhood. Spent HOURS in the library. But there were always stories brewing in my brain, always with a magical bent. My mom gave me a large encyclopedia-type book on the supernatural and I was hooked! While my parents did not encourage my writing beyond childhood creative stories and poetry, because “you can’t make a living that way; get a ‘real’ job,” I’d say that book from my mom sealed it for me.

How did you choose the genre you write in?

I’ve always been obsessed with the supernatural. Always! Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, psychics, angels, demons… So, I’d say the genre chose me.

Do you work with an outline, or just write?

For years, I was a devout “pantser,” meaning no outline, just sitting at the computer to write until the story played itself out. That could be the reason it took 37 revisions before I ever let anyone else read my first novel. Now, I’m a reformed “plotter,” but if the characters mutiny and the story goes in another direction I did not see coming, then…so be it.

What are some books you have enjoyed recently?

Currently, I’m in the middle of the Shannon Mayer Inkbound series. Loving fairytale retellings. I am a huge fan of anything in the magical midlife trope (KF Breene, Elizabeth Hunter, Shannon Mayer, Wendy Wang, … the list goes on and on) which inspired me to dip my toes into that pond. I also just started reading Freida McFadden thrillers and I am so hooked!

Give us insight into your main character. What does he/she do that is so special? Abby McBride is a suburban stay-at-home-mom who also happens to be a psychic medium, meaning she sees/hears/speaks to unalived people. She’s spent her entire life hiding this “gift” in order to fit in with the cul-de-sac crowd. Not even her husband knew until the ghosts residing at a friend’s house get sick and tired of her ignoring them so they raise a little “heck” to demand her attention in a very public display of paranormal hijinks.

Without revealing too much, what is your favorite scene in the book?

Oh, there are so many, but the one that hits home the most is when a ghost goads Abby by snarking that she’s just as invisible to the living as they are, but she’s not dead…yet.

Is anything in your book based on real life experiences or purely all imagination?

The everyday inspires my imagination so yes, there’s a few little nuggets of real life in there. The haunted house where the Halloween party is held comes from a real-life friend’s house who hosts Halloween parties every year. Yes, I believe it is haunted but that’s only my non-professional opinion. I may have dressed up as Princess Peach (like Abby) one year and my hubby also may have dressed up as Super Mario (like Abby’s husband, Tanner).

How did you come up with the title?

I’m not even sure how I came up with the title. Originally it was “The Magical Midlife Misadventures of a Medium Mom,” but that’s a mouthful.

If you had to summarize the book for the readers here:

Abby just wants to be normal so she hides her psychic gifts, but the spirits do NOT like being ignored so they shine a giant spotlight on her in front of everyone she knows. They threaten the family living in the house, with a particular interest in her friend’s five-year-old son. To save them, Abby must pull up her big-girl panties and go into supernatural battle, all amid hot flashes and brain fog. She’ll risk her marriage, her reputation, her freedom, her sanity, and even her life to bring justice to the non-living residents of 125 Magnolia Lane before they drag the living residents into their hellish afterlife.

Thank you very much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to take part in this interview.

Thank you. It’s been such a pleasure.

Psychic In Suburbia: The Magical Midlife Misadventures of a Medium Mom

Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Setting – Georgia Independently
Published Publication Date: September 23, 2025
Print Length: 234 pages

There’s nothing magical about midlife for Abby McBride, unless dealing with pesky ghosts counts.

Between hot flashes and brain fog and the dead paying a call at all hours, she’s had her share of spirited mayhem, while trying to hold up a perfect image among her cul-de-sac crowd. Not easy! But, after decades of suppressing her psychic gift, it all comes crashing down at the annual Halloween bash and her quiet suburban life goes up in spectral smoke.

The ghosts of 125 Magnolia Lane have demands and are not opposed to dragging the living into their hellish afterlife if that’s what it takes. Can Abby finally embrace the powers she’s long denied

in order to save her family and friends from eternal destruction? But at what cost to her reputation, her sanity, marriage and possibly even her freedom?

When Ghost Whisperer meets Bad Moms, haunted hijinks are inevitable among dysfunctional friendships and an intrepid heroine who’s so done playing nice. That’s right! DONE! Get set for a thrill ride that will leave readers with a tale of laugh out loud, heart-tugging midlife magic and mayhem.

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Every step grows harder to make the closer I get to the playroom door. My invisible cement shoes aren’t helping, but neither is Jillian yanking me in the opposite direction.

Yep, I may need a chiropractor after this.

Shadows cluster along the walls, up the ceiling, slithering by my feet like a snake along the wooden planks. A wave of dizziness crashes over me, intensifying with every step until my fingers finally reach out toward the doorknob.

“Abby.” Tanner calls out, but it is too late. The door swings open. I hadn’t touched it.

Windows cover the outer wall of the room. All closed. A frigid wind circles the room, sending a mass of toys into a mini tornado. The large screen television lets out an eerie flickering glow. Despite the wind and the tv, it’s quiet. No… Silent.

Jillian rushes into the room, screaming for Krissy, only to be violently tossed back into the hallway like a ragdoll. She shrieks, followed by a loud crash. The guys yell for me to get out of there, but the french doors slam shut leaving me alone in the room. The walls, ceiling, and floor shake with the force of the wind.

Something soft smacks the tip of my nose. Looking down, a foam dart lays at my feet. Good thing they don’t have real darts because that would’ve hurt!

At first, I don’t see Krissy and open my mouth to call out for her, but whatever held onto my wrist now whips me around to the left so fast the bones in my neck crack.

There, standing plastered against the far wall with her hands spread wide above her head; her usually hazel eyes shining with an iridescent silver light; strawberry-blonde hair streaked with red and black hairspray splayed across the wall; and the toy zombie baby straining against her shirt as if trying to break free waving the plastic knife like a horror film doll, is my friend, Krissy, with her mouth opened in a soundless scream.

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

Holy snickerdoodle balls!

Not sure what I expected to find, but this is nothing even remotely close to the hell I imagined when I ran up the stairs. Never have I ever encountered this…

I’m not even sure what this is.

I freeze. For how long, I’m not sure. There is no sound in the room. I can hear nothing from outside either—although reason dictates Cal, Tanner, and Jillian are probably beating against the doors and screaming.

Something plush smashes against my head again. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s enough to break my paralysis. With all the debris flying around, I am lucky not to be struck by a storm of building blocks or toy cars.

Krissy has not moved. I doubt she’s even aware of what is going on. Hopefully, she’s not. By the sheen in her eyes, my mind clicks through all the possible scenarios. And every one comes back to the same conclusion—possession.

Now, I’m not unfamiliar with the phenomenon. But the majority of my knowledge on the subject comes from ghost hunting shows on reality tv. And there’s the added stakes of my friend being the one possessed.

What if I mess up? There are enough tales of tragic consequences during exorcisms. I can’t risk Krissy’s life like that. I’m not a Catholic priest! I’m not even Catholic!

But what choice do I have? I run through my options, eyeing Krissy, my panic mounting.

Option 1 – Run screaming from the room, down the stairs, and out the house while leaving Krissy pinned to the wall amid a whirling tornado of toys.

Option 2 – Drop to my knees and cower like the coward I am, while still leaving Krissy pinned to the wall.

Option 3 – Pull up my big girl panties and banish this nasty supernatural whatever the fudgsicles it is to the great beyond.

While I would love to go with Option 1, I can’t do that. Krissy is my friend. Sure, she bullies me into being social when I just want to curl up with a book and ignore the world. But she also cooked me lemon chicken orzo soup when I had surgery for carpal tunnel syndrome and she drove the boys to practice for a month afterward. Besides, I wouldn’t leave a stranger stranded like this either.

Option 2 is feeling pretty good, but nothing would be accomplished with that. Most likely, I’d end up on the wall alongside Krissy.

The words of a familiar exorcism fall from my lips. Maybe it’s from the movie. Maybe it’s from my favorite tv series, Supernatural. I dunno. Sometimes these things just come to me without explanation.

Popular culture dictates only priests can perform the rituals to remove demons or spirits from living humans…and only in Latin. That’s not the case. Also, I don’t speak a word of Latin. Besides, whoever said demons and spirits only respond to Latin? When did they learn Latin in the first place? Entities roamed the earth long before the Roman Catholic Church popped up.

Obviously, a discussion for another time.

I clutch the black tourmaline pendant tucked into the bodice of my princess costume. I rarely leave home without some form of crystal jewelry for psychic protection. When coming to Krissy’s house, I pull out the big guns. Simple tiger’s eye or amethyst won’t work.

With the crystal in my palm—more to comfort me than part of any ritual—I begin reciting the Lord’s Prayer followed by what I assume is an exorcism prayer (in English, of course). The words rush into my mind and out my mouth without any effort on my part. My voice soft at first, grows stronger, more confident:

“Visit, O’Lord, we beseech thee, this habitation and creature of thine, and remove them far away from the clutches of the Devil. Send forth your angels, the Archangel Michael, and his legions to remove all unclean spirits from this abode; and Archangel Raphael to purify and sanctify this home and all who dwell here.”

Krissy’s body twitches a couple times. Before I can finish the first passage, a hysterical cackling erupts from her lips. Her head twists at an awkward angle as her body inches up the wall until her feet no longer touch the floor.

The words falter on my tongue. Whatever magic that had been feeding the words to my brain shuts down. Fear flows out from my heart in icy rivulets to the rest of my body.

My knees slam onto the floor. Thankfully, it’s carpeted and the yards of fake taffeta from my costume serve to cushion my fall. My hands fly up to cover my ears from the earsplitting shriek, but it does no good.

Her lips move, but it certainly isn’t Krissy’s voice exploding in my ears in a wild screech grating every nerve ending in my own body like a rusty handsaw against metal. “Your friend, despite our pleas, has blocked herself off from our plight. Everyone who has trespassed on this land has chosen not to see, not to hear. You ignore us. Every time you’ve entered this home, stepped foot on this property, we called to you. We see your light. We know you see and hear us, but still you turn away. You have been sent to free us from this darkness and torment. But since you will not acknowledge our presence, we will force you to heed our warning.” What feels like a hand of pure ice falls on my shoulder, jolting me to look up into Krissy’s eyes brimming with white light.

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After leaving the corporate world to raise her five rambunctious children with her husband in North Carolina, KC Freeman eventually found her way back to her lifelong desire to write paranormal fiction.

First, she dipped her toes in the writing world by ghostwriting cozy mysteries and romance novels. Once confident of her creative writing skills, she struck out on her own to write urban fantasy and paranormal romance with her debut novel, Rekindled Prophecy: Greylyn the Guardian Angel Book 1. A few books later, KC added the label, “USA Today Best-Selling Author” with her paranormal romance, Renegade Angel, incorporated into the Realm of Darkness box set.

KC writes mostly urban fantasy and paranormal romance novels. She also spends a lot of time editing manuscripts with her company, Book Mage Editing, and is certified by the Professional Book Editors Association.

Now that her five children are grown and flown, KC spends her time writing, editing, reading, hiking, exercising (in an attempt to get back a semblance of her pre-menopause body), and spoiling her fur baby chihuahua, Harley.

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