Reading from the Horror Stories of Robert E. Howard, 2008, Del Ray, NY, page 42

I walked in Tara’s Wood one summer night,

And saw, amid the still, star-haunted skies,

A slender moon in silver mist arise,

And hover on the hill as if in fright.

Burning, I seized her veil and held her tight:

An instant all her glow was in my eyes;

Then she was gone, swift as a white bird flies,

And I went down the hill in opal light.

And soon I was aware, as down I came,

That all was strange and new on every side;

Strange people went about me to and fro,

And when I spoke with trembling mine own name

They turned away, but one man said: “He died

In Tara Wood, a hundred years ago.”

Moon Mockery is as close to a straight ghost story as we will get from Howard. However, all that is required for this to be a blood memory story would be to render it as a dream from whence a protagonist awakens, having learned something of his ancestral past through the upwelling of a not yet extinguished ego from his biology into his dream space. This does bring into question the nature of dream space as very possibly a biological projection—a very limited sphere—as opposed to the ghostly multi-sphere most shamanistic cults have assumed.