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.

Imagine This

Our Love is a River

“Our love is a river that’s always flowing”

The following preview is of Chapter X of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction/magic realism quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. This chapter is the fourth and final chapter of the “New York arc”, and the protagonists, David and Lia, are preparing to go home to their Yorkshire manor house, the formerly abandoned Beak’s End.

David never completely got used to people recognizing him, but this was New York and people were cool, so they were left alone. They did the West Village, sauntering the winding blocks, watching life as it is now, and doing the time rollback to the 1920s Bohemian Village, the early 1960s folk scene Village, and then the late ‘60s when his grandmother was a hippie goddess. One day they walked down to the Battery and then made their way back up through Tribeca, Soho, Little Italy, Chinatown, and then to the Lower East Side and Orchard Street, once the noisiest, dirtiest and most densely populated street in the world. As they strolled along in the early spring rain, there were only a few people on the now clean and quiet street. That night they had dinner at Pellegrino’s on Mulberry Street with Sphinx. Since Dane was currently performing in The Lion King, he couldn’t join them.

After dinner, the three of them walked around Little Italy. It was a warm night and they drank espresso on one of the open terraces. Since Lia wanted to introduce David to more of her relatives, she decided to video-call her widowed grandfather on Skype. Although Walter Bailey didn’t care for most twenty-first century rock, he told David that he’d heard a few of Oblivion’s songs and liked them, particularly “Merlin” and “The Boogeyman”.

Lia wanted to video-call her grandparents on Kirsten’s side as well, Irene and Matthew Carruthers, but said she was hoping Irene was at one of her canasta games. When David asked why, she replied that although she loved all her grandparents, Irene could be problematic. Sphinx gave David a look that said, Oh yeah. Unfortunately, Irene was home. Lia took a deep breath, telling herself the odds of her grandmother acting up in a five-minute time frame were slim. Irene and Matthew seemed elated to hear from her but were confused by the sight of David.

“I guess you’re back with the frontman for Oblivion,” Matthew began. “Don’t get me wrong, Lia, I’m happy. I’m just wondering why you didn’t tell us the good news.”

“Yes, Grandpa—David and I are back together. I apologize for not telling you and Grandma sooner. It just happened a week ago, and I’ve been so busy.”

Irene’s eyes widened. “Busy? And you took him back after he dumped you?”

Lia covered her face in embarrassment. Only David and Sphinx could hear her say, “Earth eat me up!” Prying her hands from her face, David made eye contact long enough to let her know that Irene’s remark didn’t bother him, which seemed to make her feel better. Sphinx put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

“Irene!” Matthew scolded. “Look at how you embarrassed Lia! They obviously worked out their problems. I know my granddaughter and I trust her judgment. This wouldn’t have happened unless it was supposed to.” With an apologetic smile, he addressed David. “I apologize, David. My wife has a tendency not to think before she speaks. You seem like a very nice young man.”

Sighing, Irene said with a transparent fake smile, “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Pierson.” David could only reply to her fakeness with an equally fake smile. Being called Mr. Pierson made him feel like his father’s age, and Irene Carruthers’ smarmy voice had a tone that David found repulsive.


Since neither David nor Lia had seen the stage version of The Lion King, they attended the Broadway play with Athena, Kirsten, and Sphinx, all of whom had seen it many times. David enjoyed doing the ultimate New York tourist thing like seeing The Lion King, especially with Dane in the cast. After the show, David treated them to dinner at the iconic Sardi’s. Sphinx, becoming emotional, said that he was going to miss Lia, but he was thrilled everything worked out, and that he ended up playing a big role. David replied that he and Dane had a standing invitation to visit Beak’s End and stay as long as they wanted.

He confided to Sphinx that he and Dane would have a major reason to come to England before the year was out. Sphinx knew what he meant. Smiling, he shook his head. “I’m in awe when I watch you and Lia together. One would think you’d been physically a couple for years.”

David laughed. “Yeah, imagine if I were to ask a girl I met the week before to come live with me in England. It would be insane. But Lia and I… it’s that way with us. Our love is a river that’s always flowing.”

Fly Me to the Moon

Fly Me to the Moon 2

“Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore. In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.”

The following preview is of Chapter IX of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum, magic realism love story. In this chapter of the quartet, the reborn protagonists, David Pierson and Lia Bailey, make love for the first time since they lived as Vericus Gemellus and Talaith in Ancient Roman Britain. This scene is the sexy lead-in to the consummation of their love.

Link to the first two books:

David popped Sinatra with the Count Basie Orchestra into the disc tray, and when “Fly Me to the Moon” began, he stood in front of her, and with a bow asked, “May I have this dance, M’lady?”

Raising her hands to his, she replied, “Only if the dance lasts forever!”

He barely felt the floor beneath his feet as they fox trotted across the living room. It was impossible for him not to sing along with Frank as they danced. The lyrics said it all. Lia filled his heart with song. She was all he craved for, all he cherished and adored.

After a perfect ending dip, they embraced and spun around the room a few more times. Before she knew what he was up to, he unzipped her blue and white floral dress and watched with delight as it fell in a heap around her boots. Standing before him in only her bra, panties and boots, she put her arms around his neck and said, “You have wined me, dined me, bought me roses, and now we have danced. I do believe I have been properly romanced.”

As lovely as her black lace plunge bra was, it was blocking the sight for which his eyes hungered, so it had to go. Her breathing quickened even more as he unhooked it. There was a dirty look that she got in her eyes that he’d known and loved… well, forever, and he knew that look had never been for anyone but him. He purred with delight when his eyes beheld her firm and high breasts—they were spectacular, full and soft, and his hands couldn’t get enough. And the way she responded to every movement of his fingers… He pushed her down onto the sofa and his mouth penetrated hers. He wanted to be saturated with her love, now and forever.

“I should take off my boots,” she moaned when they came up for air.

He shook his head. “Not yet. Those boots and your black lace boyshort panties look incredibly sexy together. Of course, those panties will soon be history.”

“I’m going to make a confession. I wore this bra and these panties for the first time today. I bought them a few days after we last saw each other in the chapel, and they’ve been in the drawer all this time.”

He ran his tongue over her lips and whispered, “Was there a particular reason you wore them today?”

“You never know how any given day will turn out.”

“But you told me last week that I had no chance of ever getting this.”

“I could see you smiling to yourself and thinking, ‘Oh yeah, right.’”

“No, I was just respectfully disagreeing.”

“You were looking at my legs the moment you walked in the door.”

“I couldn’t help it, you looked so sexy. You drive me wild, whether your name is Cecilia or Lia. And you’ve still got the perfect derrière that I want to touch every chance I get.”

She repositioned herself so he could caress it. Pulling his tongue back into her mouth, she sucked it softly. He pushed her further down on the sofa, taking one of her large pink nipples into his mouth, reveling in the luscious taste. He couldn’t get enough of the involuntary coos of pleasure which emanated from deep within her.

“You do realize I’m lying here in only my panties and you’re still fully dressed,” she teased.

He sat up and started removing his shirt. “That’s not fair, is it?”

When it came time to take off the rest of his clothes, she stopped him, saying, “The last two are all mine.” Unzipping his fly, she pulled his jeans down to his ankles. He kicked them aside with his foot, and now stood in his black low-rise briefs which by this point felt like they would split open. The look in her eyes was everything he could want to see at such a moment.

“No Photoshop was needed for those ads, David—but, of course, I knew that already, given how excited you were that night I climbed through the window.”

“I was wondering why it took you so long to mention the underwear ads. We’ve covered everything else.”

“When that ad campaign came out, I asked the Universe, what did I do to warrant this torment? At that point, it seemed the torture machine had been turned up to eleven.”

“My body is only for you, Lia,” he said, putting his arms around her.

She put her head on his shoulder and hugged him with a strength he couldn’t have guessed she possessed. “I guess you had the tattoo airbrushed in those ads.”

“That was my choice. During the time we weren’t together, the tattoo was an off-limits subject.” He slithered his hand inside her panties, and it went straight to its warm and wet destination. “At last, I’ve reached the Promised Land.”

“Every part of me belongs to you. Taste me, partake of me, satiate yourself to exhaustion, fill yourself a thousand more times, and then a thousand more times after that. Everything you desire will be yours.”

Taking her hand, he declared, “My life as a monk has come to an end.”

The corners of her mouth curved into a deliciously naughty smile. “Oh, I think we might have a few religious experiences in store. So what do you say we go to the bedroom?”

Love Me Slowly

Love Me Slowly Image

A sexy moan escaping her, she whispered, “I want this moment to last for eternity, so love me slowly.

The following preview is of chapter VIII of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our magic realism/quantum fiction quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. In this chapter, Lia’s resistance about letting David in again at last crumbles, and the pair are finally back together.

Link to the first two books:

He forced himself to take one last look across the street at Central Park. It had been drizzling all day, but he found the fine mist refreshing. He noticed the clouds were growing increasingly darker, matching his mood.

As always, there were endless streams of people on Central Park South, but the sight of one solitary and still figure in a short olive green cape raincoat jumped out at him. And then the wind blew her ginger hair. Although her sunglasses were large, he knew the curve of the face wearing them, just as he knew those long, toned and bare legs in those short black boots. Dismissing the driver, he grabbed his bag and bolted out of the car.

The moment she realized he’d spotted her, she started running, and he knew she was going to go down the stairs towards the pond. He dashed across Central Park South, dodging cars and horse carriages, and managed to keep her in his sight as she ran along the pond. When she looked back for a second to see if he was still right behind her, the fervent look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. Even if she wasn’t sure of what she wanted yet, he knew this was the sign he’d been waiting for. He deliberately let her get ahead, and then started to close in on her as she turned towards the Gapstow Bridge. She was headed straight to the area near the ice skating rink and nature sanctuary. This time he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

When she cut across the grass, that was it—she was almost his. She tried her best to keep running, but she seemed to be growing tired. He wasn’t one bit tired though and accelerated his pace. When she looked back and saw him right behind her, he could see the fire of the chase in her eyes. She started running again, picking up some speed, but only enough speed to make the chase more exhilarating.

Upon catching up with her, he seized her from behind, her legs flailing in his grip. A few passersby looked but seemed to come to the conclusion that this was a lovers’ scene and paid them no mind. Backing her up against a cherry tree, he locked her in so she had no chance of escape, and then took the sunglasses from her face.

“I can’t see without them,” she cried. “They’re prescription sunglasses.”

“Were these sunglasses supposed to fool me? There hasn’t been a ray of sun all day. It was a good try, but I’d be drawn to you in a sea of billions.”

“I can’t see without my glasses.”

“You have my eyes, Lia. You can see through my eyes like I can see through yours. You can hear through my ears, taste through my mouth, smell through my nose, just as I can through yours. That’s the way you and I are, together or apart, and we’ve both had enough apart! Our souls are from the same star—we’re made of the same substance.”

As his mouth pressed insistently against hers, she tried to protest, still flittering within his grasp, but he could feel the heat coming from within, and see her scorching eyes flicker with passion. “I only came because I wanted to see you from a distance before you left.” Her words were as feeble as the attempt she made to escape his arms.

“You saw me, Lia. And I saw you, and you’re not getting away from me this time. We’ve done enough talking.” As his lips once again kissed her lips, her resistance began to crumble, and although her mouth hadn’t yet responded, she let him do what he was doing without further protest, and he could even hear her barely perceptible moans of pleasure as he kissed every inch of her face and neck. Loosening his grip, he gently pushed her down to the soft wet grass. Stretching out on top of her, he penetrated her eyes. “You’re mine, Lia.”

She stared at him, didn’t say a word, but her eyes said yes.

By now the rain was pouring down. “Daniel once stood by our dogwood tree and promised your spirit he’d always wait for you, and he’s kept his promise. I’ve loved nobody else in that way. It’s me, Lia, and God do I love you, so let me in!” He expected one last surge of resistance before the door fully opened, but he had her pinned to the ground, and the resistance was short-lived. In her eyes, he saw the walls collapsing, and as they tumbled down, he kissed her again. This time her full ripe pink lips parted and she let him all the way in.

A monstrous clap of thunder exploded. “We better get out of here!” she exclaimed. But instead of getting up, she grabbed his face, and this time it was her who pushed him to the ground for another kiss.

Beak’s End


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.”


The Angel From My Nightmare

After the Ball

The following excerpt is from Chapter Two of SERCH BYTHOL, Volume One of the TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. In this chapter, the protagonist, David Pierson, prepares to move to Yorkshire, England with his family, which is, unbeknownst to David, the epicenter of his lifelong psychological problems. David is sad about having to leave his grandmother and putting his band, Oblivion, on hiatus. He also has an intense fight with his girlfriend, Madison, who wants their relationship to be more than it is. At the end of the chapter, on an otherwise serene evening, David hears a gilded-age song on the radio which triggers a alternate personality episode.

It took Julian and Eleanor a moment to notice that David had become agitated and distracted. He began pacing the floor. “What is this song that’s playing?” he asked, feeling himself slipping into a place he didn’t want to be. “It’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

Eleanor shifted her attention back to the music. “Why this song… ” She thought for a moment, then said, “This is ‘After the Ball’. This was the most popular song of the Gilded Age. Yeah, it’s a real sentimental tearjerker. Are you alright, David?”

 “I am not!” David exclaimed in a voice that wasn’t his own. “Shut that infernal radio off this instant! What are you are trying to do to me?!”

“Okay, Brother, we’ll shut it off,” assured a very bewildered Julian, who was trying unsuccessfully to meet David’s distant gaze.

Eleanor muted the volume, but David had begun to sing the song with silent tears rolling down his face. Pulling Julian to the side, Eleanor whispered, “I’m trying to decide on the best course of action. This personality hasn’t come out for a while and I don’t like the way things are shaping up. This isn’t David, but it’s a part of him. I have no idea from where it springs. The voice is that of a very old young man.”

Although vaguely aware they were talking about him, David no longer felt connected to this time and place. Walking over to the bar in the corner, he started to take a swig out of one of the bottles. “Not on my watch,” Eleanor told him, taking the gin out of his hand.

“David doesn’t drink,” muttered a stunned Julian, “he won’t even have a beer at a party.”

“Why won’t you all just let me die?!” the voice that wasn’t David’s implored, smashing the wall repeatedly with his fist. “Stop trying to keep me alive! Life was once better than death when my Koroleva was here, but it is no longer. I am cold in body and soul, and I will be until the end of my wretched existence. Cease trying to fix me, and just let me slip into the crack.” After that, he began muttering words in another language.

“That’s Russian,” Julian whispered. “My oldest brother is married to a Russian woman so I’ve heard it spoken many times.”

Eleanor folded her arms anxiously across her chest. “Koroleva is also Russian. I’ve heard him speak this language and say that word a few times before.” Julian, growing uncharacteristically nervous, tried to comfort his friend, but David shoved him away.

Turning to Julian, Eleanor said, “Stay with him for a minute and keep him away from the liquor. When this voice comes out, he wants to drink. I’m going to get more of that iced tea.”

Julian shook his head. “With all due respect, I don’t see how tea is going to help.”

Staring him right in the eyes, Eleanor replied, “Julian, I need to sedate him.”

When she returned to the den, David was in the armchair with soundless tears still streaming down his face. Walking up to him, Eleanor suggested that perhaps a little wine would be a good idea after all. Holding the cup to his lips, she forced him to drink. Upon taking a sip, his face conveyed revulsion. “It’s bloody iced tea, that’s all it is!” Asserting her Wiccan control, Eleanor managed to get a pill in his mouth and make him drink enough tea to swallow it, but not before a lot spilled down his navy blue T-shirt. Julian could only watch in stunned silence.

A few minutes later, Eleanor helped David towards the sofa. His eyes were starting to close. Although he couldn’t hear or distinguish any words, he remained aware of the murmur of their voices as they talked. “What did you put in that tea?” whispered Julian.

“Twenty mg of Valium. I had no choice. This personality is broken-hearted, self-destructive, and sometimes violent.”

“What just happened here?” Julian asked nervously. “I’ve seen him have episodes, but nothing like this. David’s not schizophrenic.”

“No, he isn’t, but this is a separate personality.”

Julian shook his head. “It’s as if he was possessed.”

“I wouldn’t call it possession. Possessions come from external forces. I believe this is something with which he came into this life. One time it was triggered by the picture of a castle. Another time, by the picture of an old seaside resort.”

“Is this the dragon he talks about?”

“No, the dragon is external and much worse. This one comes from inside David. He talks of memories and loss he’s never experienced. One time he shouted, ‘my Koroleva was taken away from me!’ I couldn’t get anything coherent out of him that day either, except to hear him say, ‘my heart was crushed and my mind was shattered into a thousand pieces!’”

“Do you think this is past life memory or something like that?”

“Yes,” she answered. “But rarely are past life memories so vivid. There’s a river of forgetfulness that we’re all dipped into before we reenter this dimension. Derek and I often thought they forgot to give David his full dip.”


Walt Whitman Quote

The Walt Whitman quote above is the first quote of SERCH BYTHOL, Volume One of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES, our magic realism, quantum fiction quartet that spans thousand of years. In this volume, the quote refers to the two lovers, David Pierson/Daniel Orlov and Cecilia Ley. In the following volumes, the quote is used to describe the love not only between David and the reincarnated Cecilia, but the soul family as a whole.

The excerpt below is from Chapter One of SERCH BYTHOL. It opens with the troubled protagonist, sixteen-year-old David Pierson, having another epic nightmare about a wicked six-headed dragon. At the end , he sees the mysterious red-headed girl he’s been dreaming of all his life, whom he calls the angel from his nightmare. This first chapter sets up the rest of the quartet as it introduces the rest of the Pierson family and their upcoming move to Yorkshire, England, which is, unbeknownst to David, the epicenter of his nightmares.

As David and his mother are talking about the move to Yorkshire, David has a paralyzing vision of a preternaturally familiar man wearing late nineteenth-century clothing. He utters devastating words in which he calls him Daniel.

David’s mind drifted to the complex relationship he had with his dad. The first four years of his life, he could do no wrong in his father’s eyes. He spoke in complete sentences at one, read children’s books by the time he was two, and at age three, knew his multiplication tables. He had a photographic memory which his dad never grew tired of testing. A kid with an IQ through the stratosphere was his dream, and frankly, the offspring he expected. Modesty wasn’t one of his father’s strong suits. Gerald Pierson lacked the patience for many things and didn’t suffer fools gladly. For a while, David was the apple of his eye, but then, little by little, in his fourth year it had started. The horrific nightmares from which he’d awaken inconsolable, the blackouts from which he’d remember nothing, the warring voices in his head, the supposed hallucinations… And then the pull toward the black hole which both terrified and attracted him. He’d call for the girl, but couldn’t remember her name, only her light and energy. He drew intricate symbols on paper that no one understood, and then there was the six-headed dragon from the lowest depths of Hell who’d been his nightly companion for a decade now. Although there was always a mask behind the mask, Lamagir’s vile presence was unmistakable, and David was well aware that his sworn enemy sought more than just the destruction of his physical body. Lurking and stalking during his waking hours, would go in for the kill when David fell asleep, making it clear that his death was just another page in his far-reaching book of revenge.

            David’s early childhood was a series of doctor’s offices, tests on his brain, and a battery of psychological examinations. When both his verbal and nonverbal communication became erratic, they were sure he was autistic, and he got slapped with the autistic spectrum label. None of their tests proved anything, but at one time or another, besides being called autistic, he was labeled bipolar, ADHD, epileptic, schizophrenic, and manic-depressive. The doctors explained that brain scan technology can help diagnose many things, but tougher cases often escaped detection, and given the severity of his problems, he had to be one of those cases. The doctors asked him to describe what he saw and felt. He knew they were full of shit when they tried to gain his trust, but he talked to them anyway—what choice did he have? He was a little kid going through a system governed by a bunch of people who were trying to fix something they couldn’t comprehend. He did as they asked and told them what he saw and felt. In return, they patronized him. Their conclusions were a lot of psychological mumbo jumbo that meant they had no frigging idea what was going on inside his head. Although they often disagreed with each other, they did agree about one thing—he had a distorted sense of reality and was prone to hallucinations and delusions. After all, he talked about a girl who wasn’t there, and a multi-headed dragon who sought his soul. He tried to defend himself by explaining that reality was a subjective thing, but they ignored him. Instead, they asked why he thought the dragon and the girl were real. His response had been to inquire why they didn’t ask him if they were real. They made notes—that’s what they did. He spent countless hours watching one specialist after another write and write, but nothing ever improved, and what little light there was in his world grew darker by the day. They called the girl his imaginary playmate—a figment of his imagination created by his loneliness and pain.

            Although he wasn’t schizophrenic, they gave him anti-psychotic drugs anyway. His mom put an end to those pills when he had cluster headaches, couldn’t sleep, and his body constantly shook. His grandparents went ballistic when they heard, and threatened to sue the doctor. Even his dad was livid about those side effects. Next they started with the ADHD drugs which made him a functional zombie. His father was alright with that because he seemed a little more normal, and normality was paramount to him, but his mother wasn’t okay with it. She’d had enough of all the medications by then, but his father reminded her that he couldn’t attend a normal school unless he was on the drugs. He had to be drugged to be acceptable—it was literally a requirement for “kids like him”. They would not enroll him into the school unless he was on his meds.

            If his symptoms were in check, the doctors thought he might be able to handle a regular kindergarten when school started. It was even suggested that because of his advanced skills, he belonged in the first grade. He already knew how to read, write, add, subtract, multiply, divide, and could find any country on a map, but they decided that for social reasons, he should stay with his age group. The consensus was that he wasn’t prepared for the pressures of first grade despite his IQ, and even attending a regular kindergarten was a big step for an “atypical kid like him”. There was never a shortage of reminders that he was lucky to be in the same class with the “normal” kids.

            It was his grandmother who put an end to all of it. With a rare display of Wiccan power, she forced his father to bow his head, shut the fuck up, and let her take over. That was the summer he lived with his grandparents at their wooded retreat an hour north of Toronto. Adamant that there was nothing wrong with his mind, his grandmother insisted that his problems were spiritual. Being a man of science, Gerald Pierson had a hard time with anything he couldn’t prove, but he was under the thumb of his mother-in-law at that point. Through much of his ordeal, he remembered his mom seemed paralyzed with agony—as if the origin of the situation was familiar, and she was unable to do anything but give him her unwavering love.



“There’s a thread that runs through everything, and that thread is my religion.”

The following preview is of Chapter VII of INNER MAGNETS, Volume Two of our quantum fiction quartet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. Abraxas is not only the chapter title and the name of Lia’s mother, Athena’s, wiccan store,  it is a conception of God that incorporates both Good and Evil in one entity, and in Gnostic terms he is both God and Demiurge. He represents a monotheistic God but at the same time he is quite different from the omni-benevolent God found in later Christianity.  The shield represents protective wisdom and the whip driving power. The roosters head symbolizes wakeful vigilance and the announcement of a new dawn. The snakes, an animal closely associated with Isis and Demeter, may be considered symbols of the Goddess, representing the Shakti or female energy which is thought of as a sleeping serpent lying dormant within all of us. With this, Abraxas would truly be a juxtaposition of the fundamental polar opposites of Female and Male and as described earlier, the combining of Good and Evil (credits to article:

Link to the first two books:

Even at the absurd distance, he felt an intense erotic charge between them. He could see her breathing heavily as her fisted hand gripped the hem of her dress. Were her pupils dilated or was it just the distance? Suddenly, something fell off the bookshelf, startling him. He saw what looked like a wooden mask of a Tibetan sun. It didn’t just fall off the bookshelf, it was moved. His thoughts connected with hers.

She looked mortified but resumed the conversation. “So you just up and decide the deep freeze is over and you want me back again? I guess this is where I’m supposed to jump up and down and say, ‘Yippee! He still wants me after all!’”

“No, Lia, I’m the one who’d be humbled if you still wanted me. I didn’t mean to sound possessive, but yes, I want things to be the same between us. I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you. Please, Lia, you’re going to have to forgive me. I mean, you don’t have to, but I’m hoping you choose to. I fell madly in love with the girl you are now when I was reading your blog. If I still had a modicum of doubt that you and I are twin flames, it disappeared then and there. Not that I had a modicum of doubt.”

She was now crying hard. “I haven’t been with anyone either. I came close so many times, but it was you that I wanted, not them. You’re the one who turns me on in that way. Others did a little, but how could it come close to what we had? Our erotic energies were perfectly matched.”

“They are perfectly matched! It will be the same if only you can forgive me.”

“On New Year’s Day, I vowed that if a miracle didn’t occur by the end of this spring, then the Kingdom would lie in ruins, and the King and Queen would cease to exist. It seemed unthinkable that I’d become disposable to you!”

Jumping to his feet, he bolted across the room and sank to his knees in front of her. As he clasped her hands in his, the electrical charge coursed through his entire being. He knew she felt it too since she trembled and gasped. Their lips magnetically moved toward each other’s, but just as they were about to meet, she caught herself and pulled back. He wanted to grab her face and force the kiss, but something told him this was not the time. Instead, he squeezed her hands tighter. “Disposable to me? It was bad enough reading those words, but hearing you say that in person is more than I can take. It wasn’t all just a bunch of passionate and poetic words. My heart and soul are yours to take, and even to break if that’s your choice.”

She was now sobbing convulsively. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another object move from the shelf and looked around, but nothing was on the floor. When he looked again, he saw a statue of the Egyptian goddess Bastet suspended in mid-air. He understood what was going on when the sun mask began to move across the floor. Her fingers dug into his flesh. He was engulfed in her flames, the alchemical fire, which was where he wanted to stay. He felt himself dissolving into her and her into him. But then she abruptly pushed him away—literally and figuratively.

“How do I know?” she cried as a water bottle smashed against the wall. “How do I know you won’t change your mind again?!” In front of him, a red candle encased in glass smashed to the floor. “Help me, Jesus! This hasn’t happened in over a decade. Why aren’t you running, David? You can have anyone you want—you don’t need this in your life!”

“All I want is in front of me, so why would I run?” He intercepted the sun mask as it was moving and held it in front of his face. “Don’t you understand? Whatever you are, I am.”