That Old Black Magic

RCA Victor - That Old Black Magic

You’re not Chirurgus. Chirurgus tells me I have to keep working until I finish my job.

The following preview is of chapter five of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the recently published third volume of our quanum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

I feel my Daniel rage erupt when I think of the fate of Grayson Hall. Who was this strange Lev, and did he have anything to do with the fire? “Did Gabriel think that Lev might have been connected to what happened?”

Joanna nods. “Gabriel believed that the fire was deliberately set, but they couldn’t prove arson, despite our suspicions.”

“But who’d do such a despicable thing?” Lia asks. “There would have to be a motive.”

Visibly frustrated, Joanna says, “No Grayson gained anything by the fire that was for sure—it was only a devastating loss. All the money in the world could never replace Grayson Hall. It was the seat of our family for four centuries.”

“I heard they blamed it on using modern appliances with faulty wiring,” June comments.

“That theory was unsubstantiated,” Timothy replies. “I also heard that it was caused by a kerosene heater, but investigators found no evidence of an explosion.”

Joanna shakes her head. “There was no shortage of theories, but none of them could be proven. I remember Ralph, our valet, swearing that two of the other buildings were burning separately before the fire tore through the dry landscape and formed one conflagration. He said it was only as everyone started running outside that the fire spread, but because he was still awake when it started, he was positive that the manor house, carriage house and stables were burning separately before the three fires turned into one. The stable manager freed all the horses in the nick of time. My horse was found several kilometers past Thornton-le-Dale.”

“I remember that the fire started in the middle of the night,” Timothy begins. “Our father shook Rosalie and me awake, and we couldn’t believe what we were seeing—it all seemed surreal. It was drier than usual that year, which didn’t help, but something didn’t add up. Father was also sure he saw the buildings burning separately.”

“I’ll go to my grave swearing that the fire was deliberately started,” Joanna solemnly states.

Since hearing about Lev, my mind has been racing, and the story has left me disconcerted. “The arsonist to whom you’re alluding is Lev, isn’t it?”

“Well, I believe it’s noteworthy that Lev disappeared that very night and was never heard from again,” Timothy replies. “It has stuck in my craw all these decades. A week before my father died, we spoke about this subject.”

“The investigation couldn’t prove a criminal act,” Joanna says with a tinge of bitterness.

Lia’s expression turns incredulous. “Wasn’t Lev’s disappearing on the same night enough to raise every eyebrow?”

“Not to mention that two people said they saw three fires burning separately before they spread,” June adds.

“They took all of that into account,” Joanna responds, “but at the end of the day, it’s about what they find, not what they sense.”

“What about Lev?” June asks. “Did they ever find him?”

“They tried for years,” Joanna answers, “but he was never found. All the other displaced members of the staff gave their statements—only Lev’s was missing. The stable manager chastised himself for not asking for more background information, but Lev was a mere stable hand. Papa told him that he was the one who should chastise himself for listening to me by not firing Lev when he wanted to, but the stable manager remained terribly remorseful the rest of his life.”

“It was a different world back then,” Timothy explains. “There was less fear of strangers. We had just come out of World War II. The stable manager wanted to help kids like Lev who were obviously alone in the world. Unfortunately, in this case, it seems his trust was misplaced.”

“And if Lev was guilty, then my trust was also misplaced,” Joanna adds, “because I insisted he was harmless when Papa wanted to fire him.” She sips her wine before continuing. “The night before the fire, Gabriel and I were walking in the garden, while Lev was watering. He glared at Gabriel from a distance, and when I saw that malevolent look, I remarked to Gabriel that his crush had gone too far, and I would have another talk with Papa. This time I wanted Lev dismissed. When we passed by the area where Lev was working, Gabriel tried to be cordial by mentioning what a splendid sunset it was. I’ll never forget how Lev replied. He said that some people are not good enough at birth to enjoy a sunset the way they would like to. He never looked up from what he was doing, but we could hear the intensity in his voice. Gabriel suggested that he take the rest of the night off, and the stable manager would never question Gabriel’s decision. Instead of being pleased, however, Lev said, ‘You’re not Chirurgus. Chirurgus tells me I have to keep working until I finish my job.’”

I shudder. “Chirurgus? That name sends a serious chill down my spine.”

“Mine, too, David,” Joanna commiserates. “Every time I think about that name I immediately want it out of my mind. I even told Gabriel I didn’t want to talk about it when he tried to bring the subject up. All of that surprises me, as I’m not usually that way.”

June quivers. “I don’t think Chirurgus is a word in any language for the Creator.”

Timothy gives a bitter chortle. “Lev was not religious. He refused to go to church on Sunday, claiming that God never did anything for him.”

“I already knew that ‘Chirurgus’ wasn’t one of the seventy-two names of God.” I don’t have to look at Lia to know I’m not the only one drawing parallels with “Mrs. Graeber” talking about the Master.



Metanoia, radical change, rearrange

From self-loathing to self-loving

Out of the wreckage, with new direction

Abandon the path of self-destruction

Transforming, transform from a no to a yes

Transforming, transform from your worst to your best

Metanoia, metanoia

The following preview is of chapter IV of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the newly published third volume of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

Mitchell can’t wait to see Serge, so after lunch, we head to the pasture. On the way, we run into Cory, with whom Mitchell forged a friendship. “You don’t look like the same guy I met a year-and-a-half ago!” Cory says, giving Mitchell a pat on the back. “I sure hope you’ll be hanging around a while.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Mitchell replies, “but I have personal things to take care of back in Australia.”

Cory nods, knowing he’s alluding to Naiyana. “I see good things ahead, Mitch. I think the bad stuff’s behind you.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Cory. Bad behavior is behind me if I make that choice, and I have. After decades in the monkey-house, I’m where I belong.”

Yasmin is nursing Serge by the fence when we reach the pasture. “What a beauty!” Mitchell declares. “He looks like both of his parents. Raketa sure has good taste in mares!” His eyes then scan the expanse of the pasture. “I don’t remember that chestnut horse.”

“That’s Jericho’s horse, Otis, a Cleveland Bay. An older Cleveland mare will be coming next month so Gran can go riding with Jericho.”

“Your grandmother and Jericho live in the new cottage out back, right?”

I nod. “I’ll introduce you to them in a bit. Wait until you see the large pond we put in.”

“I can’t wait to see it! So how’s Tom? Is he still with Melanie?”

“No, but the relationship lasted longer than I thought it would. Tom’s in love with his best friend, but neither of them is ready for it. You remember Abigail, don’t you?”

“Who could forget her? Nice girl, and very pretty, too. She’s the great-granddaughter of Nathaniel’s best friend.”

“Ambrose de Ripariis.”

“Ambrose… That face of his is hard to forget. Abigail looks a little like him. How was Tom’s first year at the University of Bath?”

“He’s majoring in psychology with the intention of specializing in parapsychology.”

“Parapsychology will certainly come in handy at Beak’s End.”

I fake chagrin. “Are you implying that we have ghosts?”

He laughs. “Beak’s End is loaded with them, but I must say they’ve all been hospitable to me. And some of them went over and above the call of duty. Speaking of Nathaniel, have you seen him lately?”

“Not lately, but we saw a lot of him last November during the ‘Mrs. Graeber’ nightmare.”

“So what happened with old iron Graeber?”

“She was a fraud, a liar and a thief, and those were her better qualities. Nothing she told us was true. Her name wasn’t even Brenda Graeber, it was Elestren, and her references turned out to be fakes. She was supposed to be a girlhood friend of Angela Sykes, but Elestren was using the identity and image of the real Brenda Graeber who died in a car crash in 1997.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Mitchell cries. “How the hell was Angela fooled?”

“Elestren is very powerful and it had been decades since Brenda and Angela saw each other. Angela thought her fun-loving friend had changed dramatically since her younger days. Lia and I were not fond of her, but we kept her because she was a great housekeeper. She was fired for devising a nefarious plot to get Lia and me out of Beak’s End and take control. Martin told us many of the details.”

“Holy goddamn shit! I knew she was a bitch but I had no idea she was that wicked. And she had the audacity to make me feel like dirt because of my frigging problems! It’s a good thing I was in jail when all this was going on otherwise assault would be added to my charges. When it comes to you and Lia, all bets are off. Get rid of you and Lia and control Beak’s End? Did she really think she’d get away with such a scheme, and that Gerald and Theresa would just sit around and let it happen?”

“Elestren has a dark power, that’s for sure. Nathaniel’s spirit sensed trouble and returned. Lia and I were trapped in 1901, but when we came back we confronted her with Nathaniel. Of course, she played the victim. If they gave Oscars for such performances, she’d be a shoo-in. Before storming off the property she put a curse on me using a good luck keychain given to me by my friend Ffion. Don’t worry, the most powerful protection ritual was done, and that protection extends to every one of us and the entire estate.”

“Fuck!” he exclaims. “Nathaniel doesn’t miss a thing, does he?”

“No, and we’re eternally grateful. Let it suffice to say that Nathaniel is not fond of Elestren. They’ve locked horns in the past, and she lost that time as well.”

Mitchell laughs. “Nathaniel Ley is one guy whose shit list you sure as hell don’t want to be on.”

“Tell me about it! I was on that list when I first moved into the farmhouse in 2012. Let’s just say it wasn’t an easy period for me.”

“The man who helped me to see my own truth has a great heart, but I can feel that other side when I look at his pictures.” Not wanting to go any further, he changes the subject. “So how are you, David? I can see there’s something troubling you.”

“It’s connected to my career. Some people are trying to tarnish my name and destroy my reputation.”

“I remember you telling me about that hot singer who looks like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. I forgot her name.”

I have to laugh at the Elvira description. “Cressida Holdsworth is one of the biggest thorns in my side. For some reason, she’s obsessed with me, and no matter how much I reject her, she won’t take no for an answer.”

“You got one helluva great woman—you don’t need Elvira.”

“I keep trying to get that message into Cressida’s thick head.”

“Don’t let it get to you, David. I may not be as good at this psychic business as you and Lia, but I know you’ll come out of this alright.”

“I appreciate that, Mitchell. Three weeks ago, I was in such a state that I blew a Rolling Stone cover story interview and briefly considered canceling the second half of Oblivion’s world tour. I was ashamed of myself for even thinking about it. Many people had already bought their tickets.”

“What happened with Rolling Stone?”

“Let it suffice to say that I was not myself. A few days later, I apologized to the journalist, explaining that I was cracking under the pressure. He understood, knowing I was having a meltdown, and told me that when he left that day he was very concerned. We finished the interview the following week and had some good laughs. It was cool of him to keep what happened, between us. The interview comes out next month. It’s my first solo cover.”

“I’m grabbing a copy as soon as it hits the newsstands.”

Raketa runs over to the fence, looking hard at Mitchell. “Seems like he remembers you.”

Mitchell stretches his arm out. Raketa moves closer but hesitates. “He’s warming up a bit. Last year, he wouldn’t let me anywhere near him.”

“He is the alpha stallion in the stable and he’s still wild, but he’s working out some of his trust issues.”

Mitchell guffaws. “I can relate to that. So what do you say we saddle up the horses and go for a ride?”



The following preview is of “Chimera”, the third chapter of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the newly published third volume of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

While my personal life is serene, aspects of my professional life have become maddening. On the surface, Cressida’s fixation on me makes no sense unless she’s the ultimate masochist. I believe her obsession is a continuation of my karma with her as Nathara, and the beings that empowered Nathara’s dark schemes are the same ones empowering her as Cressida. She believes she’ll win—she always did—and draws her strength from users and profiteers who support the lies she tells herself. I threw the torn pieces of her vulgar photo in the fire when we got back to Beak’s End, and have managed to burn the image out of my mind. For an infinitesimal second, her body, or more specifically that insatiable look in her eyes, did evoke the unbridled carnality of Vericus. Nathara was once my partner in debauchery, and even though I would have preferred to keep those memories buried deep in my psyche, it seems they have to be brought to the surface one last time to confront and discard.

Gino investigated and found out Cressida was having an affair with one of the record label executives and he believes that’s how she got hold of the label gift wrap. She’s one of the most seductive recording artists in the world, but when I look close, I see her starting to fray around the edges. To the world, her image is impervious and cold, seemingly devoid of emotion except in her scorching songs. Apart from me, that is. When it comes to me, she is emotional even to the press. Fans on both sides don’t know what to think, as she consistently implies there is something between us while I tell the truth. She hints I have a dark side that the world doesn’t see and that my marriage is in trouble. After I turned down her “reconciliation offer” to sing “Chimera” live with me in Los Angeles during the tour, she snarked about me to the media.

Rumors, which have been since traced to her camp, circulated that she’d likely join me for either a Madison Square Garden or Wembley concert. She was livid when my backup singer, Nevaeh, who sang the song in every city along the way, sang it with me at the Garden as well. Cressida made it known that she’d be in London at the time of the Wembley shows, but Nevaeh also performed the song there. Julian remains one hundred percent behind me. Cressida tried to seduce him, too, but he didn’t go for it. Gino loves Cressida’s voice but never liked her as a person, calling her an accident waiting to happen. The record label construed my feud with Cressida as a personal grudge and was not pleased, but they changed their mind after the “gift” incident.

I tried to take the gentlemanly route, saying I’m in love with my wife and monogamous, but Cressida took it as a challenge, promising heights of pleasure I couldn’t conceive. Her lack of respect for Lia and unrelenting selfishness disgust me. This is worse than anything I went through with Madison or any other girl. It’s more than lust, the obsession to win, or the lure of forbidden fruit. Over and over, she tries to cast lust spells on me, but instead of resulting in arousal, they only deepen my revulsion. I sense the same thing happened with Nathara, but not at first. There was a time she had Vericus under her spell.

Sabre implied that one of the reasons his relationship with Cressida was short-lived was her involvement with the darker aspects of the occult, which he hates. He admitted that although he’d been hotter than hell for her, something about her made him feel tainted. I understand what he means. The energy behind those misfired spells Cressida tried to put on me resulted in erotic dreams that left me feeling soiled and violated. Cressida tries to burrow her way into that part of my brain like a tick, convinced she’ll eventually reach her intended destination.



Darling, good morning.
Our arms are empty of each other for a moment only. How beautifully you turn…
your mouth tilts to let my kisses in. Lie still… we shall be longer.
We need so little room, we two…thus on a single pillow—as we move nearer,
Nearer heaven—until I burst inside you like a screaming rocket.
Then we are quietly apart… returning to this earth. 

The following preview is from Chapter II of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the newly published third volume of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

The distant sound of our living timekeeper chimes four in the morning. I have no wish to extricate my body from David’s. Knowing the dreaded alarm is set for three hours later, I want us to remain one for as long as possible.

The January freeze penetrates our bedroom—the Yorkshire winds are gusting. The day I couldn’t bear to think about has arrived. I’ve gotten used to David being away a week or two, but four months… I’m sinking, overwhelmed with melancholia. Ambrose and I had discussed this subject and, feeling my pain, held me tightly, saying no one could be more empathetic about missing David. I could have joined Oblivion on tour, David wanted me to, but it seemed I’d merely be tagging along. I’m needed at Beak’s End and have a full work schedule myself.

We have foiled our enemies’ attempts to penetrate our protective shield, and during our Christmas visit with Ambrose last month, we shook off the last remnants of the Elestren nightmare. Ambrose told David to remain vigilant while he was on the road and cautioned me not to let emotions get in the way of what I must do.

David and I call our romantic history with Ambrose our spiritual ménage a trois, and can’t help but wonder what the dynamic will be like when we’re reunited in this life. We believe Sophia is out there somewhere in our present as well, and I yearn to be with her. The four of us are a spirit quad, and it is my belief we’re coming together again to do what is needed to open the doorway to ascension.

Day is breaking. Oblivion will fly to Miami from London late this afternoon, and their world tour will officially commence. For four months they’ll tour the U.S., Canada and Europe, before ending the first phase in London at Wembley. Since the demand is high, every concert was sold out within an hour of tickets going on sale. Adriana plans on seeing Julian when her work schedule permits, but I can’t think about that yet, as I have to focus on my own career. David will be home for a three-month break at the beginning of May before the tour resumes in early August.

Sensing that David is leaving, Dmitri restlessly paces the bedroom before settling at our feet with a whimper. He and I will commiserate when David is away, as we did when I was Cecilia, and Daniel was gone those long months at boarding school.

That wicked alarm goes off, but I press snooze so David and I can lie in each other’s arms. He has no choice but to soon get on his feet, as the limo will be here in an hour, and quickly showers, dresses and brings his bags downstairs. I make coffee, but don’t drink any as I’m tense enough already. David drinks a few cups while I sip kava kava tea. Since he isn’t driving, he takes hits of weed. When he hands the pipe to me, I’m afraid of magnifying the wrong mood, but he assures me it will help and he is right. I realize that I have forgotten how to be happy alone. Yes, I love David beyond measure, and while it’s normal to miss him, it isn’t healthy to grieve when he’s working.

The limo driver calls to say he’s approaching the front gate. As David and I embrace at the door, I dig my nails into his leather jacket. He implores me to stay in the foyer and not go outside on this frigid morning. Taking a deep breath, his hand reluctantly cracks the door open. “Share any little thing that strikes you, Shekinah. The small things are what I love most.”

Laughing through my tears, I joke, “Bartholomew knocked over the vase at the second-floor landing again… I bought watercress and arugula at our favorite organic produce stand in Thornton-le-Dale… Dmitri chased another squirrel…”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear—it will bring me right home. If I had it my way, you’d be with me on this tour. It was your choice not to go.”

“We talked about this. It’s something I have to do. I’ll be okay.” He touches my cheek and walks out the door before the tears welling in his eyes start falling. As he walks towards the limo, I keep reminding myself this is necessary for both of us, as I have an overwhelming urge to run after him and shout, “I’ve changed my mind!”

After the limo disappears from sight, I try to meditate, but find it exceedingly difficult to clear my head which is at odds with my heart. While I’m feeding the animals, David messages that he opened his book and found the sticky note with the serch bythol I’d left on the page with his bookmark. He reminded me that our separation is only physical. Yes, it’s only physical, but it hurts like hell.

Baptism By Fire

Baptism By Fire Bird

The following preview is of the first chapter of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the newly released third volume of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

While “Mrs. Graeber’s” idiosyncrasies remain the topic of conversation, Tom’s eyes are riveted on Ambrose. I excuse myself to the bathroom and when I come out, Tom is outside the door looking at me with an expression that conveys what he’s going to say.

“Fynn Calhoun from California? That’s a good one! The man in the other room is Ambrose de Ripariis! I’ve seen like a dozen photos of him. What’s going on, Dave?”

I attempt a casual laugh. “You’re right—Fynn could be Ambrose’s doppelganger.”

Tom gives me an eye roll. “Give it up! A doppelganger is an exact lookalike—not the same freaking person. And that man is no ghost—even by the lively standards we have around here.”

I sigh. “I’m not going to insult your intelligence, Tom.”

“You mean you’re not going to insult it any further.”

“None of this was designed to insult you—I promise.”

“Abigail knows the truth—I can tell by the adoring way she looks at him. For Christ’s sake, he’s her great-grandfather and, apparently, he was once her father, too! Why am I the only one out of the loop?”

“I didn’t plan this! I found out you guys were coming up a few hours ago.”

“I got news for you—when you have houseguests who died a century ago, questions are bound to be raised! Abigail sensed something was going on. She dropped everything to come here this morning.”

“Abigail has great intuition. I prepared her when you went to the farmhouse to change. You can imagine the emotional impact this is going to have on her.”

“Ambrose is time traveling, isn’t he?”

I take a deep breath. “Yes.”

“And it’s my hunch it’s not the first time that’s happened.”

“Your hunch is correct—it also happened two days before Lia and I got married.”

“Shit! I knew he was—or I guess I should say is—a powerful Occultist, but sci-fi flicks and Gravity Falls aside, I thought only people in secret government programs could do this.”

“Governments hide the knowledge that belongs to everybody. Humans have infinite potential. You know what the inscription of this house is.”

“I feel like the odd man out. Abigail knows more about your life than I do and I’m your brother! Why tell Tom? He’s only going to make some stupid joke.”

“I was waiting for the right time to talk to you.”

“When was that right time going to be? All I ever hear from you is ‘soon’, ‘another time’ and ‘later’. Stop trying to protect me! Mom knows that Ambrose is here. The expression on her face when I saw her at the farmhouse makes sense now. It reminded me of how she looked when Nathaniel was around.”

“Nathaniel was here, too.”

He throws his hands in the arm. “I should have known! What is it with Nathaniel and Ambrose? I’ve heard of being attached to your house, but this is ridiculous.”

“They’re not here because they miss Beak’s End, but because they miss us!”

Tom shoots me an ironic smile. “And to think it was only four-and-a-half years ago when it was not such a lovefest with Nathaniel.”

“The root of all that was love—that’s what hurt Nathaniel and me so much back then. Those aspects of the summer of 2012 feel so distant now.”

Not seeming to know what to reply to that, Tom changes the subject. “Mom saw Nathaniel, too, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but he’s gone now. We had an emergency. That’s why they were here.”

“What kind of emergency? Is it about what happened with Graeber?”

“We’ll talk about it…”

“Let me guess—later. I’m sick of later, Dave! I’m worried about Mom. It took her so long to recover from Nathaniel’s last departure.”

“Mom’s stronger now and wide awake. She’ll be fine.”

Tom puts his hands on his head. “What a day! On top of everything else, Abigail and I met this weird woman at a roadside market outside of York who asked us for directions to Kirkbymoorside.”

“If she was weird then she must have been going to the Peacock house,” I joke. “They live outside Kirkbymoorside.”

He laughs. “Believe me, that didn’t go past me! The creepy thing was, as I was giving her directions, I had a feeling that she only asked for them to get our attention. She didn’t look or sound strange. In fact, she was well-spoken, polite and fashionably dressed. It was the way she felt. She was fixated on Abigail and me. The market was full yet she seemed oblivious to everyone but us. We quickly paid for our stuff and left, but as we were pulling out of the parking lot, we saw the woman standing across the street. There’s no way she could have left the market and crossed the street without our noticing. We were so shaken that I weaved out of my lane and almost collided with a produce truck! I swear Dave, Abigail gripped my thigh and snapped me out of it, but if it had been a nanosecond later, I don’t think we’d be talking right now. The driver of the produce truck thought I was drunk! I kept driving because I didn’t want to pull over near the same place we saw her. Abigail and I were shaking so badly. She said she couldn’t even scream and didn’t remember grabbing my thigh.” 

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.

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.