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Yesterday was Friday the 13th, which is enough to send shivers up the spines of people with paraskevidekatriaphobia. Weekend America's Hillary Frank has spent a lot of time researching phobias like paraskevidekatriaphobia. Her upcoming novel follows seven teenagers, each with a different phobia, one modeled on her own fear. Hillary has her own fear, she's terrified of things with wings that flap around, like moths, butterflies, and bats.

An Excerpt from Hillary Frank's Book, "Hedonophobia and Other Shades of Fear"
The bulb in the garage was on, but she could hardly see it through the curtain of moths that danced frantically around it, filling the entire room. You have to, she told herself, looking toward the door behind the moths. It's the only way in.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and crossed her arms over the top of her head, pressing her biceps against her ears. Run, she thought, imagining she was about to dive under an approaching wave. Now! She went forward a few steps, stopped, then backed up quickly and let out her breath.

This time you'll really do it, she told herself, and sprinted through.

Moths were everywhere. Swooping, swarming. Beating their wings against her arms, her hands, her face. One even brushed against her lips. She batted them away as if she were a fluttering moth herself, and found that she was making a guttural noise—something like ungh, ungh, ungh. The insides of her ears felt all cottony.

And then it was over. She was at the door to the house.