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.
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: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B079VV7NM1/
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.
Capax Infiniti: Capable of the Infinite
The following preview is of Chapter III of SERCH BYTHOL, Volume One of our magic realism/quantum fiction quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. In this chapter, David and his family have made their move from Toronto, Canada to Yorkshire, England, and the plot of the book officially begins. On the Pierson family’s first day at the farmhouse, David and his brother, Tom, take a walk around the grounds, where David continues to experience glimpses of another time. He is drawn to the abandoned manor house next door, which was once part of the same property, a powerful estate called Beak’s End, that is shrouded in furious anguish and tragedy. As David walks around the grounds of the derelict Georgian mansion, his deja vu reaches fever pitch. The excerpt below is the scene where David and Tom first explore their new surroundings and venture onto the manor house property.
It was getting on toward evening when he joined Tom outside. In the distance, they saw the old farmer bringing back his sheep. He looked at them and tipped his hat, and they smiled and waved in return. On their way back to the farmhouse, they saw a hedgehog hurrying across the grass and several rabbits grazing. As they passed the abandoned manor house again, it both attracted and repelled him, but mostly it unsettled him.
“This place is so freaking creepy,” Tom sighed.
David wasn’t easily spooked. Back in Toronto, he and Julian loved to go into abandoned old houses and explore—the creepier, the better. It wasn’t the spookiness that got to him here. The place just reeked of sadness and desperation. He hoped they’d eventually find the owners and do something with this place. A crumbling stone wall enclosed something that might have once been a garden, and once again, splintered images crowded his mind. He knew he didn’t want to explore there, but he couldn’t stop looking that way either. It was the second time today that a fractured picture appeared for a fraction of a second. He had mediumistic abilities inherited from his mother’s side of the family, but these glimpses were not decipherable. When he pulled things in, they were usually clearer than this.
They walked to the back of the manor house where there were several old structures. One was a detached edifice that could’ve been any number of things—it was locked and the windows were boarded up. The others were clearly the stables and the carriage house. Although the old carriage house was locked, the stables weren’t, and so they walked inside. Even after all this time, he could still smell the horses. Tom picked up a pile of moldy old hay and shrugged his shoulders, stating how he wished horses were still here, since they were both avid riders. David then noticed a word carved into the wood above the farthest stall and walked over. The wood was old so it was a little hard to read, but when he was right on top of the letters he could clearly see that they spelled Zephyr. A shudder went through every inch of his body. “I’m out of here,” he told Tom, rushing past him out the door.
Tom bolted after him. “What’s wrong, Dave? The place got to you, huh?”
He shrugged. “It’s probably the moldy smell—you know how allergic I am.”
“Your breathing seems okay. That word—it spelled Zephyr. Do you think it was the name of a horse?”
“I guess,” David replied, “why else would it be carved above the stall? It’s definitely not graffiti. Please, Tom, let’s just keep walking.”
As they circled the house, he counted nine grotesque gargoyles on the roof and four along the front façade, all with their jaws open. As he stared at the monkey gargoyle above the front door, he noticed another inscription underneath. This one was also eroded, but still readable: Capax Infiniti. He knew it meant “capable of the infinite” and thought it was another interesting thing to have above the front entrance of a house. He liked that phrase as it matched his own beliefs. As he stared at the inscription, he felt himself being drawn inside the house, but Tom’s voice abruptly snapped him out of it. He turned to find Tom standing by the large Pan fountain that looked like it hadn’t seen water for nearly a century. It was a particularly majestic fountain with a huge statue of Pan playing his flute. There were ornate curved marble benches around the fountain where he knew people once sat enjoying the sound of the water. The sight of something so beautiful in such disrepair made him sad. As he gazed at it, he was sure he could hear the delicate sounds of Pan’s flute start playing.
“That’s some tree!” Tom exclaimed, pointing to the majestic beauty that stood lushly behind one of the benches. “It might be the tallest freaking tree I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s a Wych Elm,” David replied. “It predates the house and has been there for hundreds of years.”
Tom looked at him with curiosity. “You sure know your trees, Dave.”
“Yeah, I guess I do. Come on, Tom—let’s get out of here. This place is a morgue.”
Nineteen years ago, shortly before my older daughter was conceived, I had an incredible experience in which I slipped into another life–a life in the Victorian Era. While I was there, I was in a room I could tell was a drawing room, and in that drawing room, everyone was getting ready for a party or gathering. I knew everybody there, and that some of the people were my parents and sisters. I remember being a young woman, whom I later learned was named Margaret. Every corner of the manor house was as familiar to me as where I live in the present. I don’t know what else I would have seen if I had not felt someone on the spiritual plane pull me out of there. I was very disoriented afterwards, and felt out of time and space for days. The most intense realization is that it was not a memory. That life was happening concurrently. A few months later, I became pregnant with my older daughter, Kaya, and years later, found out that she was one of my sisters (Alice) in that life. I wondered if before she came back into this world, her spirit was close to mine, and if that had anything to do with what I experienced. I believe my younger daughter was there as well, a half sister named Cynthia (whom we called Dolly), and I am sure my mother and dear friend were also there. I believe my mother was another sister and my dear friend may have been the patriarch of the family. In fact, that dear friend told me, “That experience wasn’t supposed to happen, it was a glitch in time and space.” He said it in humor, as we both believe there are no accidents. I think I WAS supposed to see it as I have used elements of that experience in the quartet my older daughter and I are writing, “The Tammabukku Chronicles.” I was wondering how many others believe all our lives are happening concurrently, and if that’s the case, without linear time, then in our next Earthly life we could choose to incarnate into what we call the past.
Link to our books: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B079CPZ9SH/
The song, “Tattooed”, is a big part of the love story between David and Cecilia/Lia in our quantum fiction quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. While the song is talked about in the first volume, SERCH BYTHOL, its lyrics are unknown until book two, INNER MAGNETS, and here they are.
You open me up, like a rose and a wound
From my nightmares, alive in my room
A river I thought had dried still flows
And the doors you open can never close
Your truth I can’t refuse
Our love remains tattooed
I’ve lived in a desert for years and years
You’re the one who calms my fears
In your eyes is the key
To open my soul and make me see
You’re the angel in the dead of night
Like a beacon, you turn dark to light
Your truth I can’t refuse
Our love remains tattooed
I dive deep into your depths
I climb up your winding steps
I reach the top and don’t look down
Our love propels me off the ground
You live under my skin
You ignite the fire within
I burn with endless desire
My queen takes me higher
You’re the angel in the dead of night
Like a beacon, you turn dark to light
Your truth I can’t refuse
Our love remains tattooed
© Deborah Brenner and Brooke Halpin
This is Beak the Magpie. Beak is more than a mere bird, and he has his scenes in all four volumes of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.
Hello! Our names are Deborah Brenner and Kaya Gabsy (author name Deborah Kaya), and we are mother and daughter, as well as the authors of a Quantum Fiction quartet entitled THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.
Serch Bythol: A Young Man’s Journey Through Quantum Worlds and Ghosts of Love Past (The First Book):
David Pierson is a gifted musician-songwriter and a brilliant student, but he is also sixteen going on thirty, thanks to the six-headed dragon entity he has fought in his recurring nightmares since early childhood, always leaving him with a sense of a dreadful yet unknown guilt that haunts him.
When he moves to Yorkshire, England with his family, his nightmares become reality—the farmhouse they move into has a real ghost, a ghost with a name—Nathaniel Ley. Nathaniel is in love with David’s mother, but David appears to be the source of the tormented spirit’s anguish.
In time, David will discover why he holds the key to releasing Nathaniel from his ghostly existence and understand his own guilt, but it will be no easy journey. David learns to travel between the worlds thanks to Nathaniel’s daughter, the beautiful and ephemeral Cecilia. Cecilia takes David back to a time when the long-abandoned 18th century mansion next door was splendid and full of life, and she gradually helps him to remember the past. Once more, they share undying passion and relive their vow of everlasting love, which started long before they were Daniel and Cecilia. Two haunted houses and two ghosts, but one of them is not a ghost at all.
Inner Magnets: A Quantum Fiction and Time Travel Romance Novel set in Yorkshire, New York, Russia, Ancient Roman Britain and WW1.
Inner Magnets is a tapestry of love that takes place in England, New York, Russia, WW1 and Ancient Roman Britain. The characters walk myriad roads, time traveling in parallel universes that in the end merge into one destination. David Pierson is bereft at the disappearance of what he was led to believe was his twin flame’s ghost, and becomes bitter at what he deems as deception when he finds she is reincarnated in this time and place.
His band Oblivion rises to the top of the music pantheon, but wealth and fame are not enough for the rockstar. When he purchases Beak’s End, the one-of-a-kind abandoned Georgian manor house, his karmic destiny begins to unfold. David’s journey to ascension is an arduous one that includes reconciling his two great loves, the reborn Cecilia Ley, now Lia Bailey, and Occultist Ambrose de Ripariis, the man he calls his eternal brother.
When Ambrose time-travels from 1899 to the hidden room in Beak’s End, David and Lia are given the keys to the multiverse. The mansion has a secret that has been locked behind a mirror for 200 years.
As David and his now wife, Lia, learn to navigate dimensions and time, details of their past life in Ancient Roman Britain surface. Why does the secret of Beak’s End contain a shrine to the Tuatha de Danann? The answers slowly fall into place. David’s soul eventually learns that his love for his twin flame and spirit twin can co-exist, and that Lia and Ambrose have a long history of their own.
Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton