The author
About David B Adams
Investigator, writer, and lifelong witness to the unexplained.
Who Is David B Adams?
David B Adams has spent decades quietly documenting the unexplained. Not as a sensationalist, not as a showman, but as someone who has always believed that the experiences people carry in silence deserve to be heard, examined, and taken seriously.
Born and raised in the UK, David's interest in the paranormal began not in a library or a late-night television programme, but in his own home — with something he witnessed as a child that he could never fully explain. That experience never left him. Instead, it became the foundation for a life spent listening to others who had seen, heard, or felt things that defied easy explanation.
Over the years, David has spoken with hundreds of witnesses across the country — ordinary people from all walks of life who reached out, often hesitantly, to share what happened to them. He has visited locations, traced histories, and cross-referenced accounts with a patience and rigour that sets his work apart from the sensational.
How David Works
David's approach is simple: he listens first. Every account in Real Ghosts began with a conversation — a phone call, a letter, or a quiet meeting over tea — in which someone trusted him with something deeply personal. He never pushes, never leads, and never embellishes.
What emerges from that process is something rare in paranormal writing: testimony that feels human. The people in these pages are not characters. They are real, and their experiences are rendered with the care and discretion they deserve.
A personal story
Dinner with Dracula
During the late 1980s I became involved with an audio production company, which at the time I was assured had huge potential and significant ongoing contracts, neither of which turned out to be true. I did however manage to agree a deal with BMG Records to write and produce five spoken word books about places and topics within the UK, one of which became The Ghostly Haunts of Old England.
The most obvious choice to voice the Ghostly Haunts was Christopher Lee, famous for his roles in horror films such as Dracula — but who in fact appeared in more movies than most other British actors, some 265, most of which were not horror related. A point he firmly pointed out to me when we first met.
On the day of the recording I picked him up from his home just behind Harrods, in Cadogan Square, London. He was a striking person — very tall and most serious looking. As we drove to the studios near Covent Garden we discovered common interests including music, of which he felt passionately. He had made a number of albums and was proud of his baritone voice, which was apparently very popular in Germany.
As the day drew to a close he suggested we have dinner together at an Italian restaurant he knew nearby. Upon arrival we found it had just closed — however, seeing such a celebrity, the staff welcomed us with open arms and quickly had lights and menus ready. Then at the window appeared another famous actor who had spotted Christopher: it was John Hurt, who appeared rather tipsy. Lee explained that he always adopted the ways of someone he was portraying, so he must be playing a drunk. After a short chat John staggered off and we resumed our meal, still watched closely by the Italian staff for whom Lee was a very special visitor indeed.
During our conversation he told me that he was a cousin of Ian Fleming, the author of the James Bond books, and also that he had once been told by a gypsy that he had gypsy blood — something which clearly amused him, although this was most unlikely as his mother was in fact an Italian Countess. A most interesting day with a most interesting man.
A case from the book
The House of the Phantom Piano
For over fifty years, different families living in the same house have reported hearing the sound of a piano being gently played — drifting through the rooms at quiet, unexpected moments. No piano has ever been found. No explanation has ever been given. The music simply comes, and then it is gone.
A personal experience
Grandma at the Window
Shortly after my dear mother passed away, I was in the garden pushing my son on his swing when he turned and looked towards the house. Suddenly his expression changed to one of shock. I asked him what was wrong. He hesitated, then said: 'I saw grandma watching us from the lounge window.'
I said that she probably was — she would have liked watching us together. Children so often see far more than adults. They are more open, more receptive, less burdened by the need to explain away what they have seen.
A Note from David
I have never been interested in proving anything. I am interested in the people — in what they experienced, how it changed them, and what it means that so many of us, across so many different lives, have encountered something we cannot explain. If you have had an experience of your own, I would very much like to hear from you.
— David B Adams