Inis Sui


They took a walk along the promenade, retracing their footsteps of that long ago day which in some ways didn’t seem that long ago.

The following preview is of Chapter XVII of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. In this chapter, the now married protagonists David and Lia begin their honeymoon by going to Scarborough, a town of many memories for them. In this scene, a mysterious girl seems to be stalking them, but are her intentions bad?

Link to the first two books:

The night air became chilly so they returned to the marina and anchored the boat. At the same time, an old fisherman was docking his boat, and he nodded to them. They exchanged a few pleasantries and since the fisherman didn’t have a clue about David’s celebrity, and those were the people David enjoyed speaking with most, they began chatting. The fisherman said that he was a descendant of the family whom the town was named after. “There’s something I want to give to you,” he told them and went on board his boat. David and Lia looked at each other wondering what the old fisherman was up to. Upon returning, he handed David a small Scarborough flag with the family coat of arms. The flag bore a shield, a lion, and three castle towers which closely resembled three chess rooks. They thanked him and then spoke about the ghostly phenomena of the area. David told him about the intangible square shapes they had seen on the horizon. The man looked at David with curiosity and said, “Perhaps they were only for you and your wife to see.” They spoke a few more minutes about Scarborough’s ghosts and the town’s long history before bidding one another goodnight and heading to their car.

As David was opening the car door, Lia again had the sense of being watched. David felt it too, but when they looked around, they saw no one.

When he got in the car, he didn’t start driving immediately. “I don’t see her, but I can feel her, and she doesn’t feel like a fan. Why is she tailing us like this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t feel anything dark,” she replied and then noticed someone moving between the cars. “Look! There she is—by the Mercedes. She must have been squatting down and stood up for a moment. She’s crouching down again. It’s the same girl in the dark hoodie.”

David hesitated before putting the key in the ignition. “A voice is telling me that we should find out what she wants.”

“It’s telling me the same thing. I think she knows we saw her.”

“Okay then,” he said, starting the car. The girl stood up again but panicked and fell back against the car she was standing next to, and the alarm of that car went off. The girl appeared overwhelmed by the noise and bolted down the road. Lia knew that David could catch up with her in a second, but he didn’t speed up. “I don’t want to add to her trauma,” he explained. “Even from a distance, I recognize that look of dread on her face. I think the noise triggered some kind of an episode.”

They saw a beat-up old Volkswagen Bug pull onto the road with a lurch and take off. “There’s something about her…” Lia whispered.

“Yeah, I feel it too. I think she dropped something over there,” he said, stopping the car. When they got out, they found a pack of tissues and a business card lying near where her VW had been parked. Picking up the card, he said, “It’s for a Nepali café in London named Dhoka.”

Lia looked at the green and gold card. “I don’t think her dropping this was an accident.”

“Well, on her part, it probably was. Something bigger is going on here. Do you know what that word means in Nepali? I know your parents have an affinity for the Nepali-Tibetan culture.”

Shaking her head, she Googled the name. “Doorway—Dhoka means doorway.”

“Look! Our names are on the back of the card!” he exclaimed, showing her, “and not just David Pierson and Lia Bailey, but Daniel Orlov and Cecilia Ley. Our honeymoon information is also here: Grand Hotel, Scarborough, Suite 703. September 7, 2015.”

They looked at one another at a momentary loss for words. “Our honeymoon information wasn’t divulged anywhere. Cecilia Ley’s name was in a few of my blog entries before I removed them, but I never mentioned the name of Daniel Orlov.”

“I know—this is connected to something other than the blog. The restaurant is on Portobello Road and the name of the proprietor is Tika Vidyadhar.”

Lia handed him her phone. “There was a recent article and photo about the restaurant in Metro. It’s dark, but the girl standing by Tika could be the same girl. It says the photo is of Tika Vidyadhar and her daughter, Abigail. Should we call the restaurant?”

“If she shows up again, then yes.”

“Do you think this is connected to the gift from Ambrose?”

She could see something click in his mind when she mentioned Ambrose, but then he dismissed it. “If that’s the case, why would she watch from a distance and then bolt? If she had something to give to us then she’d leave it.”

“Maybe the card is our present,” she shrugged.

“Well, that would be another bend in time since Dhoka wasn’t around in the 1890s—the card says ‘Since 2007’. If we don’t see her again, we’ll swing by this restaurant when we get to London. We’ll be there several days after we return from Russia. Let’s stop talking about this, Shekinah—we’re on our honeymoon.”

The owner of the Mercedes must have finally shown up, as the sound of the car alarm stopped. After David and Lia got into their car, they saw the North Yorkshire police drive by to check the neighborhood.


Love Again, and Remember

Love Again and Remember Mirror

Love is the door to all dimensions


The following preview is of Chapter XVI of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. In this chapter, David and Lia at last have the wedding they have wanted for over a century, since their names were Daniel and Cecilia.

Link to the first two books:

After the wedding rings are removed from Dmitri’s blue velvet box, they read the verse they selected for the giving of the rings:

I take you my heart
At the rising of the moon
And the setting of the stars.
To love and to honor
Through all that may come.
Through all our lives together
In all our lives,
May we be reborn
That we may meet and know
And love again,
And remember.

The good Reverend Sykes pronounces them husband and wife. When David is told that he may kiss the bride, as usual, he has a hard time stopping. “I’ll never stop kissing you, Shekinah,” he whispers into her ear. Their recessional song, which at first sounds to me like the French national anthem, begins playing, but then it becomes a different song and the words so aptly state that “All You Need is Love”. The bride and groom have known this for a long time. Smiling, Ambrose motions me to open the chapel door. There is a slight gasp when the door inexplicably cracks open, but a roar of laughter and excitement erupts when Angharat’s magpie flies into the chapel.

The bride and groom hug and pose for photographs. David and Lia can now see Ambrose and me. In this atmosphere of ultimate bliss, tears well up in my darling girl’s eyes. A feeling of euphoria fills my soul. In a sense, I have waited for this day as long as they have. Among those in their time and place, only they can see me, and only the groom can hear her whisper, “I love you, Papa.”

David’s mouth forms the words, “I miss you, Merlin.”

Both in earnest and in jest, I reply, “There are no words to convey how much I miss you as well, Little Prince.” David laughs at the all too familiar appellation.

Theresa’s eyes never fail to know where I am, yet it is best if she does not actually see me today. I sense the familiar spirit of David’s grandfather whom I knew quite well when his name was Cassius Gemellus, but he is not aware of my presence.

Ambrose and I are not in the same dimension. I cannot help but notice that he looks almost the same as when I saw him last. I realize that he is projecting into the future from that time without physically materializing in the present. As we look at each other, a wellspring of emotion overwhelms me. There is nothing but love between us—there was never anything but love. All those tricks my mind played on me once darkness entered—what a fool I was! I missed him more than I could even bear. I am enormously grateful that the river I feared had dried up, keeps moving forward despite all the twists and dams it has encountered. Moreover, I am forever beholden to him for making such a prodigious effort to be with David and Lia. We had almost all the knowledge in place for time travel, but the missing link was provided by his motivation to see the two of them together again and living this moment. Love is the door to all dimensions.

Time and Space


The meaning of life is in constant motion forward – Emile Zola

The following preview is of Chapter XV of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet (recently decided as such), THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. This is a pivotal chapter in the story, as it is the formal debut of major character, Ambrose de Ripariis, in INNER MAGNETS and the beginning of the portal storyline. This excerpt is in the POV of Ambrose.

Link to the first two books:

The throbbing in my body evokes a sensation I had forgotten. While this is not the first time I have traversed time and space in human form, it is the first time I have done so as Ambrose. I am standing in front of the old silver scrying mirror. Once my vision clears, I see myself and David reflected in the glass. Turning around, I see him asleep on the chaise longue on the other end of the room. My heart begins to race. As I speak directly into his mind, a smile forms at the corners of his mouth. Such a balm to my heart! My soul is at ease knowing the old communication system remains eternally open.

I feel the pulsating energy on the other side of the mirror. The proximity makes this room conducive to meditation and introspection—it was designed to stimulate clairvoyance and prepare one for what lies beyond. This was my room as Aloysius, the other was Sophia’s. I have sorely missed being here. The situation between Nathaniel and I has kept me away from Beak’s End for several years. Of course, in David and Lia’s time frame, that was well over a century ago. I feel Nathaniel’s presence, and I am certain he has recently been here. This is the Nathaniel that I love, unlike the disturbing vibrations I have felt from him for so long. This was also Nathaniel’s room of predilection, and he always sensed there was more here than met the eye. Cecilia tapped into the vibration already in infancy. I remember how those dark blue eyes of hers would penetrate the scrying mirror, trying to discern what she sensed behind it.

Having regained my equilibrium, I am able to think of time from David and Lia’s perspective, even though for me it is the year 1899. Being physically here helps me to intuit their present reality. Beak’s End is full of guests, many of whom are core members of my soul family. This is where my heart yearns to be—not the anguished time in which I am now forced to live. Tapping into David’s psyche, I feel how this room is his island of tranquility amidst all the bustle leading up to the wedding.

David stirs. Silently, I speak his name. His body springs from the chaise longue, and it takes him a moment to be certain he is not dreaming. In the candle glow, I see that his eyes are pale blue. Not Daniel’s hazel eyes, but the eye color of Vericus. His face is still a poet’s face, thinner and more mystical than Daniel’s. The many scars that lay beneath the surface, and the dreams that have broken and died, give it a special beauty. He is mine, however, thus I am biased.

His undiluted joy echoes mine. My soul has had every kind of experience in this earthly dimension, but only love takes us to the next. He walks over to where I am standing in front of the scrying mirror. He has to touch my hair, my face and my clothes before he is convinced that I am truly here.

“A strikingly handsome gentleman dressed in a silver silk waistcoat, billowing white silk shirt and black trousers stands before me. I haven’t seen him for over a century, yet he hasn’t aged a day. His golden blond hair, with those rebellious locks that fall around his forehead hasn’t turned gray, his dark gray eyes still have that magnetic gaze, his fair complexion is as luminous as ever, and he remains the dearest friend and brother this man has ever had. But why do I see the traces of tears?”

“We shall cover this shortly. The tears have dried as I am presently filled with joy.”

“My senses are being flooded with memories and emotions. I don’t yet know how you are here, but I am grateful that you are. I love you beyond limits, Ambrose.”

“For us, there are no limits. Whatever we would name, it would yet be more, to quote Shakespeare.” We fall into each other’s arms. I wish to capture this moment for eternity. Our thoughts are as one. I feel his fear of losing me again, of losing Lia, of losing what we work so hard to build in this mortal life. Like me, he always felt everything too deeply to ever be completely at home in this world.

“Never leave,” he whispers. “I’ve had enough partings. I don’t want to be without you.”

“We will be together again soon, and in the meantime, take comfort, like I do, that it is impossible for us to be parted in the real sense.” His eyes tell me that love is still heavy for him though he has come a long way. We have all been brutally torn apart from those we love more times than we want to remember. I have been assured that I will be there to help him take flight when it comes time to depart this earthly dimension for good. I believe that is a privilege I asked for long ago.

Inner Magnets


“Our inner magnets are invariably guided by love.”

The following preview is of Chapter XIV of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. In this chapter, David and Lia’s wedding day grows closer and closer, and we see her relationship with David’s family and other loved ones. The character introduced in this scene is not one of David’s loved ones, however.

Link to the first two books:

One afternoon in late July, when David and Lia were riding the motorcycle on the road to Kirkbymoorside, they passed a faded Victorian manor house which he’d always thought exuded a cold and disturbing vibration. Today the mansion was even more unsettling than usual. As they passed, a hulking Stuart Peacock, a descendant of the Peacock clan so reviled by the Leys and the Graysons, was on the front lawn, chasing a kid on a scooter off the estate. They could hear him screaming at the frightened boy for encroaching upon private Peacock property.

“This is the old Peacock estate alright,” she sighed. “A century later, and the Peacocks are still sour and grimacing.”

“Every time I see that glowering face I want to puke,” David snapped. “It’s the same expression that I remember George having.”

“I can’t say he looks like George, who was plump, round-faced, puffy and pasty with reddish hair and wide-set eyes. This guy is slender, long-faced and a dirty blond with close-set eyes. He’d have decent enough features if they weren’t perpetually set in a grimace.”

They pulled over at a local market to get water. “I’ve seen Stuart Peacock several times in town. Every time he sees me he glares like he did just now. I heard he’s been complaining to the townsfolk that rock musicians bring in the wrong element. Philip Sykes told Stuart off one day when he declared that only another evil warlock would buy the house of Nathaniel Ley. Stuart went on to say that the area had suffered enough because of depraved Occultists, and residents shouldn’t accept this so readily. He actually claimed that Nathaniel and I must be working in tandem from separate dimensions. I’m hardly surprised. This nitwit is the descendant of old George, who hated Daniel beyond measure for supposedly stealing Cecilia away from him—as if you can steal someone who was never yours in the first place.”

“I would love to have been a fly on the wall when George Peacock came to Beak’s End to ask for Cecilia’s hand in marriage. I don’t know how he ever thought he’d get past Papa, but George Peacock brought delusional to a new level.”

“I noticed that Stuart Peacock wasn’t giving you any dirty looks. I’m sure he was thinking ‘what a terrible shame it is that such a comely lass fell victim to that evil rock star warlock who’s in cahoots with Nathaniel Ley’s ghost.’”

“And now you two ‘depraved evil warlocks’ are going to lead poor uninitiated me down the path to Hell.”

“Ah, yes, the Devil’s Mass will take place in the hidden room next Friday the 13that midnight. Lucifer just texted—Beelzebub and Belial will be joining us. Maybe Veronique will make the absurdity complete and appear with a bloody butcher knife.”

Lia did a fake shudder. “Is that when you’re going to sacrifice me on the altar?”  

Giving her a wicked grin, David replied, “If I ever put you on that altar, I guarantee you won’t be feeling any pain.”

“I like the sound of that,” she purred. “The altar is one place we haven’t tried yet.”

Just as he was about to respond, Stuart Peacock drove by. He glared at David and looked intently at Lia, the latter causing David’s fists to clench. He couldn’t help laughing when Lia said, “It seems the Peacock men are as pompous and pissy as they ever were.”

“Yeah, and they still look like sunburned Pillsbury Dough Boys with a stick up their ass.”

Lia snickered. “Only George Peacock could believe Daniel was the only thing standing between him and wedded bliss with Cecilia. Maybe old George has been reborn—who knows?”

“Then he remains as big an asshole as he ever was. A new edition of George Peacock—our rebirth is complete. Seriously though, I’m sensing he’s someone other than George. Stuart is just one of George’s wretched descendants. It must be in their DNA to be gaping anuses.”

“Gaping anuses? I haven’t heard that one for a century.”

“If that cretin looks at you again, I’ll corroborate his worst fears, and ask Nathaniel to help me. Papa Ley will always be up for kicking Peacock butt. Peacock bashing was a rite of male bonding for him and Daniel—a shared visceral loathing that transcended all reason.”

Lia shook her head. “I can hear Papa and Uncle Ambrose laughing, and I’m seriously disappointed in all three of you.”

“Sorry, Shekinah, we can’t take the high road all the time,” he retorted, knowing she was kidding. “Something about this guy irks the shit out of me—beyond the fact he is a Peacock and bad mouths me all over town.”

“The three of you thought the Peacocks were worse than the bubonic plague.”

“And we were right. The assholism of the Peacock men outlived the plague.”


Shekinah Dove.jpg

“My standard has never changed, Shekinah. My standard of beauty is you.” 

The following preview is of Chapter XIII of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. The photo above is the title of this chapter, “Shekinah”, a word meaning the light between heaven and earth, and it is the female protagonist, Lia’s middle name as well as her pet name from her beloved, the male protagonist, David. This, chapter, set in Lia’s POV, is the first chapter of the quartet to go out of David’s POV, the first of the multiple POV’s introduced as it goes on.

Link to the first two books:

The period between Good Friday and Easter was always a time of reflection for Lia, but this year the symbolism of the season resonated like never before.

At age ten, she began incorporating her Christian beliefs into her celebration of Ostara with her Wiccan parents, who had encouraged her to follow her inner leadings. Recalling the malevolent spirits with whom she kept company as a small child, and the intense temptation to use her power for evil, Lia gave profuse thanks to her parents, as well as the unseen forces guiding her, for their dogged, yet unobtrusive perseverance. They’d been there for her to draw upon, but the choice between good and evil must come from within, and there were times in early childhood that the right path had seemed bitter and repulsed her. At the time the details were murky, but she remembered walking that road in trust, and its terminus was a pool of blood and agonized screams. The wounded voice in her angry little head shouted that the forces of good betrayed her, thus, making the other path more alluring.

Since toddlerhood, her powers had been undeniable, and her abilities beyond those in the circles of even her high-level Wiccan mothers. Lamagir had known that his best chance of bringing her back to the fold was to link their minds while she was still a little girl. Hence, Beletum disguised herself as a compassionate young woman, when in fact she was a dark wicked force.

Lia recalled the fury that she’d felt as a small child, which no one, least of all herself, understood. Of course, her dark mother understood everything. The horrible pain she’d tap into demanded punishment, and her dark mother assured her those responsible would be punished. Until the unwavering love of her parents brought the sinister side of her power under control, her formidable powers made her a loose cannon, thus, dangerous to anyone who even looked at her the wrong way. At the time, she had no idea who it was that she abhorred so much, and later when she learned the story of how her previous incarnation ended, she knew one thing for sure: it wasn’t Nathaniel Ley. Her beloved father fell victim to his demons and caused her death as Cecilia, but she found forgiveness easy because of the depth of her love for him, which began long before he was Nathaniel Ley. It wasn’t until after the regression that she understood it was Lamagir whom all her rage was directed towards. She realized with revulsion that she was aligning her own power with Lamagir and Beletum to unleash the mayhem she created. Lamagir was nothing if not brilliant, and his touch could be so light that it was often impossible to discern. Perhaps she had to be taken in once more by his ingenious lies, if only for a short time, in order to understand what had taken root in her father’s mind. Lamagir. He creates the disease for which he is the only cure. How inviting it was to believe such a deception when you felt like the oddest child on the planet.

Steadfast love continued to pour down on her from this world and other worlds, and at last light entered her mind. Lamagir’s deceit crumbled under the luminosity of pure truth and, at last, she could hear the leadings of her parents and spiritual guides. And then there was the boy. No longer was he a distorted and veiled agony that she couldn’t comprehend—a torment her immature psyche couldn’t bear—he was the love that was her destiny. She’d managed to project herself to him once when they were small and heard his voice. They’d spoken mind to mind. He recognized her, and he was real. Sometimes she’d glimpse fragments of a sacred place that was theirs, and of images that seemed like memories. A snowy night, the sound of bells, a horse-drawn carriage… Playing, laughing, running, kissing in the woods… A tree with white flowers… Majestic old manor houses… In her dreams, she’d watch him from a distance. His face remained obscured, but upon her regression, she gained clarity. He was alive and he was also looking for her. They were meant to be together and it was part of a bigger picture.

A Welcoming

Munch Painting

“Love is the only true religion. Everything else is illusion.”

The following preview is of Chapter XII of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. In this chapter, the engaged protagonists David and Lia now live in Beak’s End, the epicenter of events in their lives as Daniel and Cecilia in the Victorian era, together. The below conversation is between David and his father, Gerald, taking place after David brings Lia to the farmhouse to meet his family./

Link to the first two books:

Gerald folded his arms against his chest. “I changed your diapers, whippersnapper!”

David chortled. “Then you know I’m full of shit!”

“You said it, Dave, not me. And by the way, what is Hákarl?”

“Fermented shark—a staple of Icelandic cuisine. Oblivion played Reykjavik not too long ago. I tried Hákarl and liked it. I remember that the waitress was extremely pretty, but I didn’t feel the urge to have sex with her just because she was Icelandic.”

“Oh, come on, there’s a natural attraction to a culture different from our own.”

“I guess, but in the end, it’s about soul-to-soul connection, and that can occur between any two human beings.”

“My verdict is still out on soul-to-soul connection, and I certainly can’t bring the soul into sexual attraction—it’s animal.”

David knew he and his father were diametrically opposed on this subject. “Not for all of us. Even if you don’t believe in a soul-to-soul thing, you have to harmonize with the person inside the body and have sexual chemistry. After the excitement of an exotic package wears off, you’re either compatible or you’re not.”

“It’s not just about a different look, but a different culture and way of thinking.”

“I’d hate to think I was sleeping with someone only because she’s Icelandic or Jamaican.”

“Maybe she’s sleeping with you because you’re exotic to her as well, and you share the experience and move on. I don’t want to keep every lover. In fact, so far, your mother has been the only one I’ve wanted to keep, and she’s a girl from my own hometown. Whatever Lia did three years ago, my mind can’t process, but here you are, an engaged man. It’s lucky for you that the vibration and chemistry you wanted comes in such a lovely package.”

“I admit that I’m turned on by the inner and outer Lia. I had some epic battles with that part of my brain, but I was determined not to let it run the show—I have enough problems already. All these people who want me sexually—it’s for the wrong reasons. At least they’re the wrong reasons for me. If I’d partaken of that, I don’t think Lia and I would be together now. The media have done a job on our expectations of sex, but I somehow managed to tune it out.”

“This is coming from a guy whose underwear ads are among the most successful of all time. I’m sure your image helped to influence many people’s ideas about sex. You know how to sell it when you have to.”

“I won’t deny that I’ve used the media when it suited me. Thanks for the hypocrisy check.”

Gerald chuckled. “You know you can count on me for that.”

“It’s an even more daunting task to resist our own crap than it is the media’s.”

“Isn’t that the truth?! There have been many times I’ve been drunk on mine, but I always had you to keep me in check, not to mention your mother. I’m sure Lia won’t let you get away with any shit either—she doesn’t seem the type.”

“You should have seen how she busted my balls when I first got to New York. I want that in a partner though. I hate lip service. Whatever package she’s in—that’s my type. She awakens all my senses and takes me to a place that no one else can. She’s my Queen, my Goddess, my once and future wife, and I love her in a way language could never express.”

“Once and future wife? Daniel and Cecilia never married.”

“I was thinking of another time I’ve flashed on occasionally.”

Gerald’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me there are more installments to this story.”

“I know there are, but they’re still veiled. When those memories are meant to come to light they will. My mind is on other things right now.”

“I can see that alright. And I can tell the sex is great.”


“That’s Dave for you. He has sex for the first time and it’s ‘transcendent.’”

“It didn’t feel like the first time—I don’t know how to explain it. We take it as slowly as possible so we can savor every second, every single nuance, and sustain it for as long as possible. A few times we’ve meditated right before and it’s been amazing.”

“Wait a minute…” Gerald interrupted. “Are we talking Tantric sex? Christ, I wondered if that was even real. It’s no wonder you’re into that—you have Ambrose de Ripariis’ book by your bedside and his picture on your dresser. I know he was a major proponent of Tantric sex and sacred sexuality. I heard he was quite an enigmatic character—equal parts seducer and monk.”

“I don’t like the term seducer—that’s Malachi Cummings’ talking. When Malachi wrote about Ambrose it was with the intention of discrediting him. And Ambrose is anything but enigmatic to us. Lia and I are on the same wavelength as Ambrose on almost everything, sex included.”

“Can one really stave off an orgasm for as long as he claims?”

“The answer is yes, through meditation.”

Gerald shook his head. “The last thing I want during hot and heavy sex is to ‘meditate’!”

David laughed. “One slips into it naturally—with a like-minded partner, that is. I understand that Tantra isn’t for everybody.”

“It seems to work for you.”

“We’re just starting out, but damn right I want to sustain the pleasure for as long as possible. Deprivation is maddening when you’re living through it, but it did teach me control, and those control lessons began back when I was Daniel.”

“You were always a master at making lemonade out of lemons.”

“And those lemons often came down like hail. So, Dad, you don’t have to worry about my cock anymore. I know it was a subject of much concern to you.”

“There was a time when I was a tad concerned—yes. As I look at you now, though, I see something on your face I’ve never seen before. You must be doing something right, or Lia must be doing something right since you’re clearly worshipping at her altar.”

“We are doing something right, but I take nothing for granted. I intend to nurture our love every day.”

“I think you’ve found a new religion, Son.”

“New? Love is the only religion. Everything else is an illusion.”

Between the Lines of Age


“We live in castles at different times, and we also live beyond the lines, beyond the lines of time.”

The following preview is of Chapter XI of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quartet,  THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. As the video above implies, the name of this chapter is “Between the Lines of Age”, as the newly engaged protagonists, David and Lia, waltz to the classic Neil Young song across the second floor of Beak’s End.

Link to the first two books:

Once more succumbing to her magnetic pull, he seized her in his arms. Again, they made love, and this time it was even better than the time before, which had been sublime. As they cuddled in the post-coital bliss, he felt a profound sense of warmth and well-being. Every muscle in their bodies was so relaxed they found it hard to stand up, but eventually, they managed to get on their feet and put on fresh clothes. Lia looked gorgeous in a tight black u-neck sweater and faded jeans. Checking his cell, he saw that it was 9:02 PM. There was still time since it was Friday night and the family would stay up late. The music box had left him with an urge to dance, as it so often did, so he put another waltz on the stereo that fit his mood.

When they danced, they took on another form of lovemaking, and they didn’t want the lovemaking to end. It was a song his grandparents had often danced to—Neil Young’s, “Words (Between the Lines of Age)”, and it was from an album his grandfather often played the summer he lived with them when he was five. All those songs had left an indelible imprint on his heart. “Daniel and Cecilia were regarded as the best dancers of the waltz in Yorkshire,” David said, taking Lia’s hands, “so may the dance continue…”

Time disappeared as they spun around the candlelit room in perpetual circles. Never had he felt more in harmony with the rhythm of life, and he now understood why he loved this particular dance so much. As they revolved in long, flowing movements, continuously turning, he whispered to Lia, “We live in castles at different times, and we also live beyond the lines, beyond the lines of time.”

By the time they spun their way into the darkened hall, the song ended on the stereo, but it didn’t end for them. They continued to waltz their way across the second floor of the house. The only light was what filtered through the windows from the moon and stars, but they could feel their way. When at last they stopped, they felt the stillness to be unnatural.