Sara B. Gauldin's Blog

Help Me Choose a Title for Avery Rich: Book 4!

[image error]As of today I am two-thirds of the way through with writing the fourth Avery Rich Mystery.  That means it’s time to give it a title!

The Premise: 

Avery goes home to her isolated cabin to find the man who killed the hit-man who was after her hiding there.  She is conflicted, and before she can decide what to do everything gets complicated.

Caroline George, the matriarch of the power political family that has been trying to kill Avery has been kidnapped.   The family thinks Avery is the culprit.  She has to investigate to find out what happened to Caroline George if she wants them to leave her alone.

The Choices:

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The wait is over, Dressed to Kill is now available!

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Jenny’s Song: a short story

My son’s class is writing “clean” scary stories for their language arts class. He was having a bit of writer’s block, so I agreed to complete the assignment at the same time as a race.


 


For your reading pleasure, a very rough (30 min.) edition of Jenny’s Song:


 


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Dance class was no fun without Jenny. Kimmy stretched on the bar like always, but without her partner in crime to make faces at in the mirror, the class just wasn’t the same.



A knot, the same knot that had been stalking her for two weeks, arose in Kimmy’s throat. She swallowed hard and refused to blink. Doing so would invite the tears and Kimmy knew that Jenny would not want her to stay sad.



“Watch this,” Kimmy spoke under her breath. Three weeks ago this proclamation would have been the invitation both girls needed to one-up each other, pushing each other to try out the newest and most technical moves. It had always been that way, the two girls were the most advanced dancers in the class, but no more. Kimmy spun and moved with the music. She had only moved a few steps when the music abruptly changed. The volume over the studio speakers increased by the second, pumping out a strange harpsichord tune that sounded more like an organ-grinder with a monkey should be playing it than music that belonged in a ballet studio.



The change triggered a small flicker of anger the Kimmy didn’t realize she had been holding inside. It wasn’t fair that her best friend was gone, forever. How could someone so young live for such a very short time? And why would no one really tell her what had happened? Kimmy’s feet moved with the screeching sound, faster and faster. The tears came too, but now she didn’t care.



“Kimmy,” Mrs. Benson, the girl’s dance teacher called.



Kimmy kept dancing. The sadness and music was a wall that kept all of the normal world, the world she could never share with her friend again away.



“Kimmy! Stop, you are going to hurt yourself!” shouted Mrs. Benson.



This time Kimmy stopped. “I’m sorry Mrs. Benson,” said Kimmy. Her voice was shaky from crying.



“Kimmy, I think this is enough for tonight.” Mrs. Benson put her arm around Kimmy. Maybe it is just too soon. Go home, take some time to feel better. Dance class will be here for you when you are ready.



“Yes, ma’am,” Kimmy said. She shrugged away from her teacher and headed to the changing room.


 


***


 


Kimmy grabbed her bag, rummaging for her jeans and sweatshirt. The cool air of fall demanded that she add layers before heading to her mom’s car. As she rummaged, her had bumped against something hard in her bag. She pulled the object from the bottom of her bag and held it up to examine it more closely. The tiny jewelry box appeared hand carved. Imaged of dancers were etched along the sides of the wood was stained dark and well patinated with age.



She opened the lid, taking care do to break the ornamental metal clasp. A tiny ballerina dressed all in pink popped up on a spring coil and began to spin as the music box began to play. The charm of this strange item disappeared like the sun behind the clouds. The song that played from the box was the same disturbing tune that had been playing in the studio. Kimmy slammed the box closed. As she did, the flutter of a scrap of paper falling caught her eye. Kimmy bent down and picked up the slip of paper. One side appeared to be a store receipt, but on the back were six words, penned in Jenny’s unmistakable handwriting. “It is yours now, I’m sorry.”



“Very funny, who put this in my bag?” Kimmy called out. She listened for the sound of laughter to find whoever had planned this cruel joke. But there was no response. Kimmy shivered as goose bumps covered her body. The unexpected burst of cold air prompted her to hurry to put her sweat shirt on and rush to her mom’s waiting car.



“You’re early,” said Kimmy’s mom.



“Yeah, let’s just go home,” Kimmy said.



Kimmy’s mom looked at her for an extra second, hearing the stress in her daughter’s voice. She knew her daughter was grieving her friend and decided not to push any further.


 


***


 


Kimmy put the jewelry box in the back of her sock drawer when she got home. After dinner, she told her parents she was tired and went up to bed. The truth was, she was exhausted but she knew sleep was not likely to come easily. Memories of her friend filled her thoughts and the strange lack of closure that came with the reason she was gone being kept like some dark secret.



As the night wore on, Kimmy’s thoughts took on the distorted reality of a dream as her exhaustion overtook her grief.



“Kimmy, follow me!” Jenny’s voice called to her.



Kimmy smiled. “I knew you would come back for me,” she said running though the hallway of Jenny’s house, toward her room.



“I never wanted to leave you, but you have to see what I found!” Jenny called back.


Kimmy opened Jenny’s bedroom door and saw Jenny standing over her bed. She ran to stand next to her friend, to see the strange thing she had found.



“It is the strangest thing ever, it looks just like me. I wonder where my parent’s found this Halloween decoration!”



As Kimmy looked into the bed, she realized that she was looking at her friend’s dead body, peacefully laying in eternal sleep.



“Oh no, Jenny. It’s you!”



“I know, weird, huh!”



“But don’t you know, you’re dead!”



Jenny turned to Kimmy, her warm smile faded from her face.”It sure seems that way. but here I am, but Kimmy, I have to tell you something. You have to know so you won’t end up just like me.”



“What is it?”



Someone was shaking Kimmy. “Kimmy, Kimmy, wake up, you’re going to be late for school!” Mom’s voice broke through Kimmy’s dream.



“Wait, I need to know…” Kimmy grumbled.



“Need to know what?” asked her mom.



“Never mind.,” said Kimmy. She squinted in the bright light. I guess I’ll never know what she was going to say.



Kimmy hurried to get dressed. After pulling her uniform on, she reached into her sock drawer, to grab her socks. As she did the jewelry box popped open, now at the front of the drawer, and the horrible song started.



“Gahh, what in the world is with this thing?” Kimmy pushed the lid down hard. As she did, she thought she heard a voice whisper a single word.



“Closer.”



“What? who said that?” Kimmy asked. But there was no reply.


 


***


 


Kimmy’s school day was slow and tedious. She looked for Jenny in every class out of habit, but her seat was always empty like she knew it would be. In her last class, Kimmy was enduring the relative quiet of a science test. She had an extra pencil, near her paper in case the first one broke. As she focused on her answers, she almost overlooked the flurry of motion that was taking place at the top of her paper.



It will find you too. Don’t open it. The song draws it to you! Jenny The pencil stopped writing and dropped over on the desk, once more inanimate.



“What in the world, is this someone’s idea of a bad joke?” Kimmy said.



“Kimmy, you know there is no talking allowed during a test.” Mr. Stockbright said. He shuffled over to Kimmy’s desk. “What is this?” he asked, pointing to the message.



“I honestly don’t know!” Kimmy’s voice had risen an octave.



“It looks like a bad joke to me. Take your paper and go to the office. I’ll call your mother myself to let her know what bad taste you have shown today.”



“But I didn’t do it!” said Kimmy.



“And who did?” Mr. Stockbright demanded. He crossed his arms across his chest with disdain.



“I, I don’t know,” Kimmy said. She picked up here paper and walked to the door: defeated.


 


***


 


“Really Kimmy, I just don’t know what got into you. You are not the only one who feels the loss. Jenny was loved by many people. It seems like you are using this as an excuse to get attention.”



“Mom, I really didn’t do anything, I swear it!” Kimmy said. She sat on her bed, dejected.


Mom waked to the door, then turned back for one last admonishment. “You think about that tonight, it is time to put these cries for attention away so everyone can grieve.” She flipped off the light.



“Yes ma’am,” Kimmy said. As soon as her mother closed the door she flopped back on her bed and let the tears flow. Time stretched and contracted around her and she was alone in her sorrow, and hear only the sound of her own tears… until the soft scrape of a drawer opening caught her attention.



“Now,” a voice whispered. The drawer suddenly was jerked free of the dresser and the jewelry box rolled out onto the floor. The song came on, playing faster and faster as it had in the dance studio. Kimmy rushed toward the sound, searching in the dim room among the pile of socks. around her, items in the room began to hover above the floor, spinning around Kimmy.



“Hurry, I can see him coming for you!”Jenny’s voice called next to Kimmy.


Kimmy finally grabbed the box and tried to push the lid closed. But it seemed stuck. She felt for the wind-up key in desperation but realized there was none. More and more of Kimmy’s belongings rose into the air, adding to the swirling vortex.



“Only moments now, he will find us!” the whispered voiced hissed from the shadows in the room.



“No!” Jenny’s voice called. “You can not take her!”


Kimmy stood up, seeing no source of voices in the dimly lit room, she did the only thing she could think of, she stomped her foot down on the little box. A loud snarl came from the box. The music grew even louder. The response only drove Kimmy to react with an added sense of urgency. She stomped over and over, With each strike, the box growled and hissed. Black smoke billowed forth from the tiny box as though it had come from a large chemical fire. Kimmy did not stop, she stomped until the box was reduced to splinters on the floor. The vortex of Kimmy’s things abruptly dropped to the floor in one resounding crash. At last, there was only silence from the evil piece of wood.



“He’s gone now, they both are,” said Jenny.



“I hope so,” said Kimmy, looking for her friend.



“You did it, Kimmy, you are free of the curse, and so am I. It can never find its way back without the song!”



“Is that it, what happened to you?” asked Kimmy?



“Yes, but you ended it, and now it will never happen to anyone else!” said Jenny. “I can go now, you are safe.”



I want you to stay. The words formed on Kimmy’s lips, but she stopped herself. The feeling of peace that filled her let her know that her friend was no longer there, just the warm memory of her friendship.

The New Recruit

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When sixteen-year-old Judith meets Cain, she has no idea what she’s getting herself into. Cain is the most beautiful human being Judith has ever seen, but he hides a dangerous secret. When Jo-Jo, Cain’s surrogate father, offers her a job, she accepts, unaware she’s been recruited as a pawn in Jo-Jo’s ecoterrorist plot.

THE NEW RECRUIT is a timely story, exploring how, without love and support from those around them, our disenfranchised youth can be so easily misguided.

 

Genre: YA, Contemporary, Romance, Girls & Women

Pages: 214

Release Date: 1 July 17

Blog Tour Date: 1 – 8 July 17

Post Review: any time

 

Sixteen year old Judith Abraham feels like an outsider. She has just transferred to a new school, has only one friend, and suffers from social anxiety, but when recruiter Cain Barrett offers her a job, her whole life changes. Things are great at first, but the more she learns about Cain’s world of climate crusaders, the more she questions his motives behind singling her out. Will Judith find a way out before it’s too late?

 

THE NEW RECRUIT is the first book of a trilogy (followed by Indoctrination) by author Elise Abram, winner of the 2015 A Woman’s Write competition for I WAS, AM, WILL BE ALICE. THE NEW RECRUIT is a young adult contemporary romance for the new millennium. In a time when jobs are scarce, politics are unstable, and the future is uncertain, millennials are ripe for recruitment by cults, groups offering a stable world view in exchange for total devotion. THE NEW RECRUIT is meant to be a cautionary tale exploring how, without love and support from those around them, our disenfranchised youth can be so easily misguided.

Buy Links:

Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/New-Recruit-Elise-Abram/dp/1988843006

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Elise_Abram_The_New_Recruit?id=aZgkDwAAQBAJ

iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-new-recruit/id1239339594?mt=11&uo=4

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/ebook/the-new-recruit-5

Barnes & Noble Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-new-recruit-elise-abram/1126296087?ean=9781988843018

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: http://eliseabram.com

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/eliseabram/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/eliseabram

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/EliseAbram/e/B009FF1JGA/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

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Author Bio

Elise Abram is high school teacher of English and Computer Studies, former archaeologist, editor, publisher, award winning author, avid reader of literary and science fiction, and student of the human condition. Everything she does, watches, reads and hears is fodder for her writing. She is passionate about writing and language, cooking, and ABC’s Once Upon A Time. In her spare time she experiments with paleo cookery, knits badly, and writes. She also bakes. Most of the time it doesn’t burn. Her family doesn’t seem to mind.

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Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

 

If I had to pick a moment, that single, deciding moment when everything went south, it would have to have been when my father told me he’d lost his job.

 

Dad had a job at a food distribution plant, picking and shipping customer orders. Kind of middle management. It paid good, but it didn’t pay well. We’d been comfortable since Mom had died because they’d had this insurance policy that paid off the mortgage in the case of one of their deaths. Dad said he had connections, that one of the suppliers he knew wanted to hire him, but that didn’t pan out. The world, it seemed, was in a recession. Businesses were failing everywhere. Stores were closing down all over the place, which meant that even the suppliers who had wanted to steal him away from his boss when he had one could no longer afford to hire him.

 

After a few weeks, Dad got a retail job making barely more than minimum. Though his biggest expense was his car, we needed it to get around, and so we had to find other ways to tighten our belts. Dad swore he’d do his best to make sure our lifestyle wouldn’t change, and though he’d never admit it, it was a promise he couldn’t keep.

 

The first major change came when I couldn’t make my tuition the following semester. Mom and Dad were big proponents of parochial Jewish school. They’d both been raised in the public system. They’d grown up celebrating the major religious holidays—Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement), Passover, and (more fun than religious) Chanukah—and both had done a stint at after school Hebrew school, but none of them was particularly Jewish. Because they’d felt unprepared to teach me themselves, they’d decided, long before I was born, to send me to parochial school so I’d know what it meant to be Jewish.

I hated it. Dad and I enjoyed pork roast, ribs, and cheeseburgers at home, and celebrated birthdays at Mandarin (all you can eat Chinese), a fact I had to hide from my friends and classmates. I had to wear this ugly uniform at school—a skirt that went practically to my ankles, and my elbows had to be covered, even when the weather was thirty-plus degrees outside.  I hated it, but I knew how much it mattered to them and so I didn’t complain. Maybe if I’d known how much it cost, I might have persuaded them to let me go public sooner.

 

Dad had a meeting with my principal and they offered to subsidize my tuition. When Dad said he still couldn’t afford it, the principal suggested he take out a mortgage on his house. But when I caught my noble father sitting at the kitchen table one night, crunching numbers with his calculator, actually considering the consequences of a mortgage, I put my foot down. He looked up at me (I swear I saw tears in his eyes) and smiled, though whether out of relief or pride, I couldn’t tell.

 

When second semester began, I was registered at the local high school. My first day was scary. I was alone. I’d known the girls at Jewish school since I was in kindergarten, but there?

 

My dad had wanted to walk me in, but I decided that was uncool—I didn’t want to start my first day as the Daddy’s Girl—and decided to go it alone. I stepped into the foyer of the school and it felt like stepping into a shopping mall, with its vaulted ceiling and green glass skylights. There were trees, actual trees, growing up from grates in the tiled floor. Further down the hall were banks of lockers. Much to my surprise, there was no dress code—boys and girls wore pants, skinny jeans, or baggy sweats. No one wore kippas, but quite a few girls wore hijabs. My school, my previous school, had been populated by a homogeneous lot, and because of the uniforms, everyone had dressed the same, with the boys wearing pants and kippas, and the girls wearing skirts and sleeves.

 

This was definitely going to take some getting used to.

 

I looked down at my own clothes, an A-line, mid-calf skirt and baggy sweatshirt; I definitely needed to rethink my wardrobe.

 

“You look lost,” a girl said to me.

 

I looked up and forced a smile. “I’m new.”

 

She smiled back. Her hair was dyed ombre, something we weren’t allowed to do at my old school. “Do you have a locker?”

 

I shook my head.

 

“A schedule?”

 

Another head shake.

 

“You should probably start at the office. Do you know where that is?”

 

I shook my head again.

 

She smiled, something warm and friendly; I’d have to find her again later and see if we could be friends. “Come with me.” We turned right and walked down a narrow corridor. “I’m Jem, by the way. My mom loved that cartoon growing up.” I must’ve looked at her weird sideways because she said, “Jem and the Holograms?” She gasped. “Oh! You should totally come over and see that movie with me some time. My dad? He’s like this techno-geek? He has the entire basement wired like a movie theatre. I have the movie on Blu-ray.” She paused. “Okay, so my mom has the movie on Blu-ray, but she’ll let us watch it if we want.”

 

I was thrilled. Here I was, not ten minutes into my public high school career, and I already had a friend and future plans. Okay, so they weren’t exactly firmed-up plans, but I was ready to take whatever I could get. The mom thing freaked me out a bit. Moms were hard to swallow, seeing as I didn’t have one anymore, and being around them only made me want mine even more. I decided that Jem’s mom would be the type to stay in the shadows, calling down to see if we wanted snacks and then making Jem go up to get them, rather than coming down into the basement to serve us herself.

 

“I didn’t catch your name,” Jem said.

 

“Judith,” I told her.

 

“Nice to meet you, Judy.”

 

“Not Judy; Judith. Judy reminds me of that Jewish kids’ singing duo, Judy and David.”

Jem’s look grew stern. “You got something against Jews, Judith?”

 

I felt my eyes grow wide with surprise, A: that she’d straight up ask something like that, and B: as if me and my parochial school style clothes didn’t tip her off that I was a Jew. “No,” I said. I let out a short, snorty guffaw. “God, no. It’s just that my cousin was addicted to them when she was young, and I’ve listened to enough of their music to last several lifetimes.”

 

“I myself have a younger sister who still worships Judy and David,” she said, kind of formal-toned. “So, good answer.” She opened the office door for me and said, “You may pass.”

 

Okay—so my new friend was kind of weird, but she seemed like fun, too. She took good care of me, introducing me to the office secretary who issued me a locker and then sent us to Guidance where I got my schedule.

We compared notes and discovered we had a common lunch and the same period three English class. We made arrangements to meet for lunch, and Jem walked me to my first class.

 

***

 

The rest of the first day went smoothly, I guess. All classes were kind of awkward, seeing as I knew no one, spoke to no one, and no one spoke to me. Jem introduced me to her friends at lunch and in period three English, and I recognized a few girls from my earlier classes. I left school feeling kind of good about the day. I had even higher hopes that the next day would exceed that day’s experiences.

 

Dad was still at work when I got home, but he’d left a meatloaf in the fridge with instructions for me to put it into the oven. Dad is like the Ground Meat King. He can do a million and two dishes with it, everything from chili to shepherd’s pie, to this awesome dish he calls “deconstructed cabbage rolls”. His meatloaf rocks. He has about ten different ways to make it, and he’s adding to his repertoire all the time. That night he’d prepared what he calls his Sweet-and-Sour Meatloaf. He makes it with this sauce of molasses and soy and enough garlic to drop a vampire at fifty feet. I love the way it smells when it cooks, knowing that it will taste even better.

 

With dinner in the oven, I decided to check out my wardrobe. I pulled everything from my closet and drawers and divided everything into three piles like they do on those hoarding shows on television: keep, trash, and donate. I don’t own a lot of clothes, seeing as I had to wear an ugly uniform most of the time, so it didn’t take long, but at the end of it, my trash pile held a few single socks and some holey underwear; my donate pile had everything from my uniforms to the skirt I’d worn that day; and my keep pile was made up of exactly three pairs of jeans, one pair of leggings, two sweats, a few sweatshirts and sweaters, and some t-shirts. Depression sunk in. I needed clothes—badly—but didn’t have the money to buy any. I had about five hundred dollars in my savings account, the aggregate sum of almost a decade of birthday and Chanukah gifts, but Dad insisted I save that for post-secondary school. I could ask Dad, and knowing he didn’t like to say no to his little girl, I’m sure he’d oblige with the cash, but I didn’t want to take advantage.

 

I decided I needed to get a job, so the next day after school, I made a bee-line for the mall. Lots of places were asking for extra help, but they all wanted me to apply online, so I went home and filled out as many digital applications as I could find.

 

I didn’t hold out much hope, as my only experience was volunteering at school during their Chanukah toy drive, or at the local food bank over the summer, but I got a call from a clothing store the next day. The manager conducted a phone interview with me and asked me to come in the very next day for a face-to-face interview.

 

We met in the Food Court at the mall and talked for almost half-an-hour about my volunteer and school experience, as well as why I wanted to work at their store. “My mom died a few years back,” I said, garnering her sympathy. “It’s just been my dad and me ever since, and Dad got laid off a few months ago,” I said.

 

The manager’s face went blank, as if I’d caught her even further off guard than when I’d played the Dead Mom Card, and she had no idea how to react, let alone what to say.

 

“I need this job to help out, to try to make ends meet.” I hoped I sounded responsible and sincere. Not wanting to destroy any credibility I might have built with the manager thus far, I decided not to add that working in a clothing store would also help me build my much-needed wardrobe, now that I no longer had to wear that gross-looking uniform, and given the 30% discount they offered their employees.

 

We talked a bit more and then ended the interview with, “We’ll be in touch,” before she said goodbye.

 

I sat at the table, playing the interview over in my head—what I’d said, what I shouldn’t have

said, what I didn’t say but should have…

 

After the self-debrief, I decided I’d done quite well and deserved a reward, so I went to Tim Hortons, bought an Oreo Ice Capp and a Red Velvet Cookie, and took another seat.

 

That’s when he approached me. “This seat taken?” he asked.

 

Thinking he meant he wanted to take the spare chair at the table to use elsewhere, I said, “No,” but much to my surprise, he sat down across from me instead.

 

He took a sip from the coffee cup he’d been carrying. “Looking for a job?” he asked. His eyes were a striking turquoise, the colour you need to wear contacts to achieve.

 

“How did—”

 

“I saw your interview.”

 

“Oh,” I said. I took a careful sip of my Ice Capp, letting it melt in my mouth before swallowing to stave off brain freeze.

 

“How did it go?”

 

“Okay, I guess.”

 

“Not much of a talker, are you?”

 

“You mean the interview?”

 

“I mean now.”

 

“Oh.” Dad always said I’d have the guys flirting with me any day now. I wondered if this was the day.

 

“My card,” he said. He handed me a business card, which I thought was weird. I mean, how many teenage guys carried business cards with them? Unless he was older than he looked, like those actors who played teenagers long into their twenties.

 

I read the card. “Cain Barrett. Recruiting.” I looked up into those blue-green eyes and felt I was drowning. “Who do you recruit?”

 

“People.” I took offense to his evasiveness. He was the stranger approaching me—shouldn’t I be the evasive one?

 

“Like who? For what?”

 

“For…things,” he said matter-of-factly, as if I should already know.

 

I laughed, probably out of discomfort rather than amusement. What was on his agenda? Was his aim to flirt? Pick me up? Hire me for a job? Something more sinister?

 

“Things?” I asked.

 

“I work for a non-profit. We mostly raise money for the less fortunate—you know: selling flowers, silent auctions, organizing craft shows, stuff like that.” He smiled and my creep-dar went up a notch.

 

“You were watching me?” I asked, remembering what had led to the conversation. He’d said he’d seen my interview, but he didn’t approach me until after I’d bought my Ice Capp. That meant he’d been following me. And while the remote possibility that he’d just happened to be in the Food Court sitting near us, happened to be near enough to overhear our conversation, and then happened to see me again after I’d bought my drink was possible, I don’t believe in coincidence.

 

“Well, when you put it that way—”

 

“Well, how would you put it?” Besides stalking, I mean.

 

He chuckled nervously and smiled, and I remembered why I was still talking to him. He was cute.  It had to be the dimples. And the spiky hair. And the eyes, definitely the eyes. “I saw a damsel in distress and thought I’d help out. You know, be your knight in shining armor.”

 

“And how do you propose to do that, Sir Cain?” Did that score too high on the flirtation scale? Did I mention I used to go to a religious school where the boys and girls were separated and like oil and vinegar, couldn’t ever mix?

 

“Why, by coming to your rescue, Princess…?”

 

He made it sound like a question, so I said, “Judith.”

 

“At your service, Princess Judith.”

 

I remembered what he’d said before I’d introduced myself, and I cocked my head and squinched my eyebrows together. “Rescue? Why, whatever do you mean, squire?”

 

He chuckled again. It was an amazing sound, the sound of Cain’s laugh. Equally amazing was the mellowing effect it had on me, making me believe he and I could be friends. More than friends, if we chose. “Keep the card. Think about my non-profit, about me. Call me if you’re interested.” Then he did this amazing thing: he took a step back and bowed with a flourish. “Later, my fair lady.”

 

“Wasn’t there a movie with that name?”

 

“Would you prefer Dame Judith?”

 

“Isn’t that taken, too?”

 

He looked at me, grinned, and winked. I liked this banter and the giddiness I felt. My first flirtation. Judging by his reaction, I seemed to be doing okay with it. “I think that’s Dame Edna,” he said. “You know, that cross-dresser with the purple hair?”

 

“I was thinking more along the lines of Dame Judy Dench.”

 

He smiled again, brought his palm to his mouth, made a kissing noise, and blew the kiss to me. “Till we meet again,” he said.

 

I watched as he walked away, the words, “Count on it,” sticking in my throat.

 

Cover Reveal: Introducing Anointed: Book 3 of The Corporeal Pull

I know Anointed has been slow to arrive, but I am tying up many loose ends from the previous novels, and I want to do this in a satisfying and intense way that takes the story further than the other books in the series.  The book is in the final fine-tuning stage, but I am pleased to share the brand new cover art today!

Read Chapter 6 of my paranormal series starter, Alive for free!

Chapter 6

The flow of worldly thoughts and needs came through Terra’s mind in a steady stream. As she searched she felt an urge to linger over certain thoughts and inclinations; she found herself intrigued with the sensation of falling in love. As she realized the pattern that accompanied love, the memory of her first touch with Liam was drawn into the forefront of her recollections. When their hands had met a certain tremor akin to a living vibration had emanated from their connection. Terra had no explanation for this occurrence, yet her mind kept drawing her attention back to that moment, as though there was more she should glean from this odd experience.

Terra’s mental wanderings had led her full circle to reinterpret her meeting with the unusual individual who seemed so intent on getting to know her. Liam’s first informational session had not gone as Terra had planned, although she could claim some success: she had explained many aspects of the transition to Liam. Conversely, he had awakened more questions and sensations in Terra that she had not previously been aware of. Brand-new charges were usually a bit docile; not Liam. Terra had never had a charge that seemed to be so drawn to her; and for some inexplicable reason, she was just as drawn to him.

After their first session had ended, when Liam had gone for the day, Terra was left alone. This was noteworthy because, in all of her existence, she had never experienced what it was to feel alone. Of course, with the thoughts of her charges always interspersed with her own, she never really experienced true silence, but this version of alone was a different experience altogether. With Liam, being separated suddenly felt as though something that she valued and needed in order to be complete had been removed. It was quite some time after Liam had left before she could acknowledge that his absence was the feeling of alone and that it felt foreign and uncomfortable.

Now that a second meeting with Liam was imminent, Terra was determined to be objective. For a few moments, she even convinced herself that she could go on with the work that she was meant to do normally. It was then that Liam drew closer to her, and she once again experienced the strange sense of attraction, as though she longed to propel herself towards him and hold on for dear life.

“Welcome back Liam.” Terra heard her own voice take on a tone that she did not recognize.

“Good Morning Terra.” As Liam said her name, he smiled; a warm expression that seemed to radiate from him in a gesture of welcoming. He approached her as he spoke, and the allure intensified.

“You are looking radiant as usual,” he commented. Terra grasped her seat with one hand to steady her resolve. She was determined that she would not waiver.

“Err, thank you. Have you been reflecting on the matters we discussed when we last met?” she asked. She forced her mind to do a quick check on the inner-monologues of her other charges to keep it all balanced.

“Let’s see. We talked about how I will be sent to Earth on some sort of mission that I will not recall, but not to worry because you will be stacking the deck in my favor, and that I will probably never encounter you again once I live out my life with some degree of success.” Liam’s tone sounded strange to Terra. She stood and walked to the window in an attempt to break the spell of the awkwardness she felt in his proximity.

“Yes, I see that you have understood the basics. If you don’t have any questions, then we’re ready to move forward.” She tried to keep her response professional and curt.

“I do have a question,” stated Liam. “Will you come with me to Earth?”

Terra had no way to prepare for that kind of question.

“I’m afraid that is just not how things work,” she answered. “I was never intended to be born into a mortal world. It’s quite possible that it would not work at all. Even if I could make it through the transition, there are other concerns that have to be considered.”

Liam smirked slightly as if he intended to cover up his disappointment with Terra’s response. “Don’t you think that you could better guide me if you were there in person, taking an active role in my fate on Earth?”

Terra pictured the arrangement that Liam was describing. She could not deny that it was appealing. She could easily envision them walking together along the shores of an ocean, appreciating the beauty of Halle’s art as they strolled in the porcelain white sand. They could take on whatever Liam’s purpose would be directly and together. He would not have to feel alone in the world because he would always have her, and know that she was there especially for him. Terra would not have to keep him at arm’s length. It was a lovely image that she could not afford to entertain, and dispelled as quickly as she could. She realized that she needed to keep her distance.

“You are not seeing the danger in that request.” Terra tried to quash the appeal by keeping herself rational and in the moment. “On Earth, I would not be able to see your situation with as much perspective and objectivity. I would be helpless and powerless there, if I could survive the transition at all. There is a good chance that a guide attempting to become mortal would be destroyed during the process.”

“I would never want any of those things for you Terra. I’m sorry that I brought it up.” Liam’s voice was solemn.

“Don’t be. You had no way of knowing these things. I know you meant well,” she answered.

“So our time here in The Tweens will have to be sufficient to prepare me for the world. I’ll have to accept that.”

Terra knew the truth of his words, but strangely they felt like rejection, and instantly she felt a need to resist. However she spoke the truth, even as part of her wanted to deny it.

“You will be prepared; I will make sure of that. You won’t need me physically because I’ll be there with you every step along the way. I will hear your every thought and your every need. Every success you have, I will celebrate; and every hardship I will bear with you. You have to believe that I will not abandon you.” Her words sounded like a plea.

“I’m sure that you will be there for me. I believe you, and I trust you to do your best for me, but I think that I’ll feel your absence,” said Liam.

“You won’t. It doesn’t work like that. You won’t even remember that I exist. If I am successful, some of my training will come through and help you to be more in tune with your purpose, but as for detailed memories of your time here, your mortal mind won’t be able to process them.” Terra felt a pang of sadness when she reminded Liam that he would not remember her, which made no sense. What was he but one charge out of many?

Terra moved across the room and peered into her portal with the intention of adding some physical distance between them, but Liam approached with a kind expression on his perfect features. He positioned himself squarely in front of her as she turned to regard him, and placed his hand lightly on her arm as he gazed into her eyes with a look of resolve.

“You may rest assured that I would know you in any plane of existence, Terra. I know that you don’t believe me, but every fiber of my being tells me that I will never erase you from my existence. You are indelibly etched upon my memory.” As he spoke, Liam’s arms encircled her, and she felt herself completely lose her resistance. His inner light co-mingled with hers as they held one another. In the most sensual gesture she had ever allowed herself to encounter, he carefully smoothed an errant strand of fine blond hair from her forehead. His fingers traced her high cheek bones and followed the delicate curve of her jaw to her refined chin. There his fingers rested as they drew her lips to his, and she lost herself in his kisses.

~~~~~~~~

 

Over the next few days, Terra found that she looked forward to her preparations with Liam much more than she did with other charges. In fact, she was having a hard time dividing her focus equitably. This worried her; she began to question whether she could be objective with Liam. The truth was, she could not regard him in the same manner she regarded her other charges because, on a basic level, she would have been content to spend the majority of her existence exploring this new attraction. She knew that it was time to walk away, that she should request Liam be assigned a new guide. That way, her whole attention could be returned to her very deserving group of charges, who all needed her just as much as Liam.

Terra rejected the concept with every fiber of her being. She would just have to make it work somehow. Besides, Liam would be moving on to his mortal placement soon enough, and then her existence would go on as it always had.

To Liam, the attraction towards Terra seemed so much more natural and more permissible because he had never known another way. Terra was entering a whole new world that left her mind in a constant state of flux. On the one hand, she was elated. Liam’s every touch, glance, and comment captured her undivided attention. On the other hand, she was horrified by her own distractibility. When Liam was not in her presence, it was incredibly difficult not to give herself-permission to think about what he might mean to her and why he was so different.

Before Liam was a distraction, Terra had been glad to focus her entire attention on her job and its transcendental consequences. Somehow her new perception of Liam altered that at a fundamental level. She could not completely shift her focus from this intense sense of attraction that she had for him. This was especially unnatural because her innate purpose as a guide was selfless giving and to provide help for others. When she was in Liam’s presence, she had to believe that her sense of attraction was a positive thing. It encompassed her and helped her to understand mortal emotions that she had only observed in the past. When Liam was away from Terra, she had major trepidations about the appropriateness of their relationship. In truth, she could barely keep her mind off of him. Everything changed with him. Everything about the way the system worked was irrevocably altered, and no one seemed to notice but Terra.

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Read Chapter 5 of my paranormal series starter, Alive for free!

Chapter 5

On the day that Liam was created a terrible storm brewed on Earth. It had been building over the ocean for several days, and had reached a magnitude that would be destructive to anything in its path. The season was not new. Hurricane Liam roared through the tropics, cutting a path of damage and destruction in its wake.

Terra watched the destruction through her portal. She saw the bleak changes the storm made to all that it touched from the perspective of several mortals she guided. The very landscape became forever altered, and entire communities were flattened like a child’s sand castle at high tide. She felt the terror, the pain of the injured, and the grief of loss, and realized that life as these people had known it would be changed in a powerful and far-reaching manner. While her attention was so completely diverted, the element that would change her existence in just as irrevocable and tangible way walked into her life.

Liam appeared at Terra’s workspace innocently enough. He came to her as countless other charges had before him: as a corporeal entity deemed ready to be joined to a guide. Liam was not at all arduous to watch like the hurricane for which he was later named. In fact, Terra found it difficult to take her eyes away from him. He was crafted with a chiseled and refined posture, and his inner luminosity had a quality that made him compelling. His broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips, his dark hair framed his symmetrical features and full lips. From this ideally proportioned purveyor of maleness, blue eyes shone forth with an innocent and all-encompassing gaze that demanded Terra’s undivided attention. As she stared at him, she realized he was looking back at her in a very odd manner, waiting for her to speak. He had come to her for guidance, yet here she stood, transfixed.

“Maybe I’m in the wrong place?” he asked.

“Err, no, probably not,” Terra stammered. “I’m expecting a few new charges today. You’re probably on my list.” She fumbled for her list, the stack of papers slipping through her fingers in her rush to seem prepared, his eyes evaluating her awkward response as she scrambled to collect them. Wordlessly he knelt and began to recover the rogue pages, then handed the stack to Terra with a glimmer of amusement in his eye. She felt herself flush with embarrassment, and quickly averted her eyes under the guise of sorting the pages she had planned to consult.

Liam extended his hand for classification. Terra grasped his hand awkwardly in her own and recognized his identity as the one that she had anticipated. She had expected a charge like any other, not someone with this undeniable quality. He was like no other being that she had ever encountered. She released Liam’s hand and gestured towards a chair positioned against the table.

“Welcome. Please have a seat. Let’s see what great things are planned for you.”

Liam showed no hesitation as he extended his hand to her once more across the pale wood grain of the table’s corner. As Terra grasped his hand, she felt a firm mind link form between them, and his thoughts became quite clear to her. A strange shiver went through her. The shiver seemed to grow into a beautiful hum. They were a tuning fork that was struck by each other’s touch, and their pitch matched perfectly. This was a new feeling for Terra, but not an unpleasant one. She felt as though every part of her began to speed up. She responded to his confusion and newness in a way that she had never reacted before.

Typically, Terra would form a mind link with charges to help them understand the newness of their creation, and then start planning the proper mortal placement for them. It was usually very clinical. Now, completing her link with Liam, she found herself hesitant to let go. She fought the urge to pull him towards her with both hands and explore this new experience more carefully. Terra opened her eyes, preparing herself to break the link, but she was not prepared for what she saw. A greenish hue surrounded them both and cast light around the entire chamber. It was as though their inner lights, his yellow and mortal bound and hers composed of pure blue light had merged. As the name would suggest, inner lights were not something readily observed externally, so this was a surprise to Terra. She folded her arms against her chest in a defensive posture, and reflexively leaned away from him. He sat back in his chair and smiled. He could not read her thoughts; the link of a guide was one way only. In the sweet innocence of the newly created, he had no notion that the experience had been anything but typical.

Terra stammered, “Um, yes, you are one of my charges. Have you taken a name?”

He looked thoughtful. “Well, nobody has given me one yet. Is that something you will do?”

“I think it’s more meaningful if you choose one. What appeals to you?”

“I have heard the name Liam many times on my way to meet with you. I like the way it sounds. Would it be presumptuous to choose that as my name?”

“No, I think it suits you,” answered Terra.

Liam nodded in agreement. A barely noticeable smirk crept on to his face. He grinned, and that expression overpowered all of his others.

“Now that we have decided on my name, may I know yours?”

“My name is Terra.”

“That’s a pretty name. Did you choose it for yourself?”

“No. I was given my name when I was created,” said Terra. “When guides are created their names precede them. We’re intended for a specific job, an existence of servitude, whereas your kind is intended to have a life of free will in set circumstances. That’s why you have some choice in your own name.”

Liam’s brow creased slightly as he thought. She heard the question form within his mind. “So the guides are created…”

Terra finished his thought, “All sentient beings are created, except for ‘The One’. He has no beginning and no end. Therefore he was not created, he is as he always has been and will be. The rest of us have a starting line to cross.”

“That’s a lot to think about,” said Liam.

“Yes, I suppose it is. It’s better if you just accept it as a fact rather than try to analyze it.”

Liam laughed, a deep rolling sound. It surprised Terra that a simple laugh seemed to encourage her hand to move towards him. She had never felt drawn to another in this way, and to be honest it was disconcerting.

“I suppose that we had better move our session along. You have a name, now you need to know a little about the existence you have been given. Corporeal entities like you are designed to fulfill a specific purpose during a mortal life.”

“What kind of purpose?” asked Liam. He seemed mildly concerned. “Has any entity ever failed?” Terra felt a nervous laugh rise to her throat.

“Every entity has failed somewhere along their journey. Most individuals can change course and achieve success by learning from their mistakes. I won’t hide the fact that there are individuals who require more than one lifetime on earth to complete their part in the greater plan.” Terra regretted having to discuss the possibility of failure before her hopes for Liam’s success.

“Okay then, assume that you have given me my assigned purpose. I begin my corporeal life, and things are going great, but then I decide that whatever course I am supposed to take is not what I’m comfortable with. What happens in that case?” Liam had a mischievous look in his eye. He was challenging Terra to see what she was really about.

“As your guide, I can help you stay on track by manipulating small events around you to help you change course on your own,” Terra answered. She realized as she responded that it sounded as though she would tamper with his life rather than help him along the way. “I think that I said that badly. What I meant is that I can help you along the way.”

“So you drive and I go through the motions of mortality,” Liam responded. Terra had a distinct feeling that he was purposely challenging her. Normally, she would not have been open for this kind of rousing, but since she had been second guessing herself lately Terra had left herself open to scrutiny.

“You make it sound so malevolent! I promise you that I’ll have your very best intentions in mind as I help you along. Besides, I can only provide suggestions. As a human, you will be fully endowed with free will.”

“Free will?” Liam asked. “If I can do as I please what’s to keep me from deciding to change my priorities?”

Terra was having a hard time believing this situation. In her entire career she had never been doubted by an entity that she had guided. Now, just as suddenly as she had realized that she had a reason to doubt herself, she was being asked to answer for herself. It seemed the very nature of who and what she was had begun to blur.

“It is very difficult for humanity to sacrifice self for the greater cause. Consciously making those choices can be a very tricky thing. The path you will take will put you at the right place at the precise time in the hope that your nature is properly chosen to be the person to fill that need.” Terra was determined to regain control over the exchange.

“So that is how you help your charges? By presenting us with opportunities to be successful despite ourselves?”

“Well, I don’t think I have heard it described that way, but yes, that sums it up,” Terra confirmed.

“I am glad to know that I have somebody so beautiful who wants me to be successful,” Liam added. “Will I see you often after transition?”

Terra was flummoxed. She had never seen herself as a thing of beauty. She thought of herself as a utilitarian being that was an implement to the grand design.

“Ah, no, I’m afraid not. Once you are born to a mortal life you’ll not remember me at all. I will look in on you, but you will never need to worry about my existence during your stay on Earth.”

“Please be clear, what part of my existence will I be able to carry with me?” Liam asked. Terra found it difficult to interpret his expression.

“You will be the same person. Your thoughts will be your own, but some parts of you – your memories of your beginnings, and your awareness of whence you came – will be veiled by your mortal mind. It’s a temporary condition; the body is a vessel that was never meant to endure forever. The person you are today is the part that lasts, and the part that will return to The Tweens to be made ready for whatever comes next.” Terra was trying to make Liam understand what was to come without upsetting him, but she seemed to be failing miserably. She could not understand why this charge was determined to be a challenge. If he was this difficult when she could reason with him, imagine what he could become in the mortal world!

“I suppose I can accept that if I am allowed to return here to you,” Liam declared.

“To me?” Terra was lost. “I will remain your guide while you are in the mortal world. You won’t need me when you return to The Tweens. That will mark a new era in your existence.”

“Won’t need you?” asked Liam. “Then who can I argue with about existence itself? Your whole face glows every time I challenge you, and I’m finding it hard to look away.”

If her distraction had been so obvious when she reacted to his debate, then Terra must have turned ten shades brighter when he spoke these words. She was having a difficult time looking away from Liam as well. There could be no denying that he was a magnificently formed creation, but this sense of attractiveness was complimented by an intense sense of intrigue. For the second time, her concept of what was absolute was shifting. If it was shifting towards Liam, she already knew that she would be tempted to let things keep surprising her.

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Read Chapter 4 of my paranormal series starter, Alive for free!

Chapter 4

“Please Lord, don’t take him from me. Spare him!”

“Her baby, please make her baby well.”

“How could this happen?”

“Why me?”

“She was a good person, why did so many bad things happen to her?”

“I know that we are not given more than we can handle, but when is enough?”

“I can’t go on like this…”

“I can’t believe he’s gone. Why was he taken from me?”

“Why is anyone meant to suffer like that?”

“That child did not ask to be born with so many problems. A healthy child, is that too much to hope for?”

The waves of sorrow from the mortal world were harder to tune out. Now that Terra had admitted to being at the root of one situation of temporal pain the pleas came more and more clearly. All over the world, the pain of charges lit up in her consciousness like so many eternally twinkling beacons, each with a simple request: to understand the misfortune that they experienced. To ask “Why?”, the one question Terra could not answer. Mortal minds were like blinders to the entities they carried. The physical form would never allow them to understand why things happened. Even more poignant was the fact that so few of these entities made pleas for their own benefit; the situations involving loved ones seemed to be much more heart wrenching in the mortal world.

Terra decided that she needed a change in scenery. While her work space was serene and comfortable, she hoped that a change from being surrounded by the four pale walls would break the fog of negativity that was reaching out to her. She let her feet lead her where they would. As she wandered, the pleas and sadness of her charges continued to plague her. These mortals were on track to complete their plan, Terra made sure of that. What part of the greater good was saved for them? The mortal world held little comfort for those who had lost loved ones. She had always disliked the concept of the fleshy constraints of physical pain. The human body constantly seemed to be a leaky, messy and ineffective vessel for the entity. Now the physical pain of the world seemed so much less than the emotional turmoil that clutched lives like an unending vise; pain which was encountered because of the decisions that Terra had made.

The path felt cool and smooth under her feet, the climate around her was eternally moderate. Terra had once been told that the beauty of The Tweens was like the beauty which occurs on Earth, except it lasts forever and can be appreciated more fully. She passed by never-ending waterfalls, sun rises and sunsets frozen in place, views of ocean precipices that went on into eternity. None of it caught her eye today. As she walked she recognized the residence of Halle, the artist who had created so many of the scenes of expressed beauty now on display in The Tweens. Halle’s dwelling was modest despite the grandeur of her creations. Terra had once heard Halle claim that beauty came from within, so why would she need it to surround her? Terra approached Halle’s door and watched her hand knock with a sense of distraction, the sound of the knock drowned out by the din of her charges echoing through her thoughts. Today these pleas could not be ignored.

Halle opened her door with a look of surprise, her auburn hair swept back in an untidy bun, her clothing as nondescript as her dwelling. Her face was heart shaped and lovely, and her eyes retained the permanent twinkle of one who knew more than they said.

“Terra, I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Halle said. “I was sure you would still be busy with the trainees. Just the other day you mentioned being ready to complete the training?”

“I thought that, but it seems now they are training me. They have been asking me questions that I was not ready to approach.” Terra’s voice sounded pained, and Halle must have heard something in the undertone of her response.

“Terra, I think you better come in and sit down for a while.” Halle’s tone was warm and soothing. Terra felt her legs moving of their own volition towards the overstuffed Davenport near a stack of canvasses against the far wall.

The cries continued and Terra looked around the room, desperate for something to occupy her mind besides this outpouring of grief.

“Terra? Terra, can you hear me?” Halle waved her hand in front of Terra’s face. In that moment, Terra returned and focused on Halle with better control. “What is going on with you? You seem completely out of it. You said the trainees asked you something?” Halle’s voice radiated concern.

“Yes, they asked me about regret.”

“Regret? What do you know about regret? Your success rate is unmatched. I don’t know how you do it; I never could. You deal with the real parts of the world beyond; I only create what I want to be beautiful there.”

“Halle, there are so many entities in pain. I can feel it now – I could always feel it, but now I can’t seem to separate the pain from myself.” Terra’s voice came in a whisper.

“The mortal world is full of pain. It comes from being temporal. That’s why I love my part in existence; I can send a distraction, a piece of forever to the world to give the corporeal entities hope.” Halle could not imagine taking on the pain of the mortal world, but she could see the distress that it caused Terra.

“That is not what I mean. Certainly decay, illness and dying are painful, but there are greater pains that I had not really considered before,” said Terra. Halle scrutinized Terra. It was clear that she wanted to understand even as she shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean. You must hear something that I cannot.”

“Of course; how could you hear it? That isn’t your job. Let me try to explain.” Terra knew that she had to tell all the details for any of it to make sense to Halle. She went on to recall the conversation with Brendan and Elise, about the family that had been ripped asunder on the prairie, and about the decisions that she had made that led to countless emotional torrents for the entities involved. She described how the couple had anguished over one another’s pain, and of the love the parents had retained for the infant despite leaving the mortal plane.

Halle listened carefully. At times, she appeared to be lost in thought, and somewhat repulsed.

Terra reached the pinnacle of the problem. “Sometimes teaching others allows us to be open to learning a lesson we may have otherwise missed. I was faced with allowing myself to answer the question posed: do I believe in soul mates? That is an entirely different take on the human condition. If that is a factor in decisions I must make for placement, how many mistakes have I committed with the absolute confidence of the clueless?”

Halle’s entire demeanor changed as Terra described her dilemma. After sitting and listening in silence while Terra blathered, Halle suddenly broke free from her repose. “So you think soul mates are predestined, and not a mortal construct?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Lately, I think it may be possible for mortals,” said Terra, her voice raspy. Unburdening her thoughts had taken the edge off the points of pain that had been burning like hot coals into her consciousness.

“I think it’s a beautiful idea,” Halle beamed.

“It seems to be a burden rather than a gift from my perspective,” Terra answered.

“Look again!” Halle demanded. “What could be more perfect than a partner in existence? They both would constantly feel loved; they always have somebody to care about. They would have a constant in an uncertain existence, a constant that goes on beyond the plane of life. Obviously it’s something to be desired, and it’s beautiful.” It was evident that Halle had considered these concepts before Terra had dragged them to her doorstep.

“I find myself bothered by the whole idea. I used to be decisive – I had to be – yet now the very premise that I leaned on for guidance and strength has allowed me to see a flaw. A tiny inconstancy that could mean my absolute decisions were not always in the best interest of the corporeals involved. Instead, they may only have been what was the most effective course for the advancement of the plan.” Terra had to allow the roots of the problem to become exposed.

“So that is what this is really about. Your guilt for not taking these bonds into account has taken over your thoughts,” said Halle. “Look, if soul mates truly are predestined, then there is nothing you can do to break them. Focus on the plan as you always have; the rest will sort itself out when the plan is complete. You are trying too hard to solve a puzzle that you don’t have all the pieces to.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” said Terra. “To compound things I began to listen more closely to the voices that I had tried so hard to compartmentalize. I don’t like what I hear. True, some individuals are going along with mortal lives just fine. There are bumps along the road, but they deal with them. Others plead for mercy, for help, for answers to the tragedies that happen in their lifetimes. Some pray incessantly, both consciously and unconsciously, because of suffering they cannot accept or dispel. They cannot understand their parts in the greater plan. I don’t know why I haven’t made myself look at these factors before. I have always measured my success on a formal set of rigid outlines that have nothing to do with the lives people lead on Earth.”

Halle approached Terra. She placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder and looked at her with a purposeful expression.

“So you’ve allowed yourself to focus on the pain rather than success. How many voices do you hear in the mortal-world experiencing great joy? How many corporeals are longing to find a soul mate? How many are lonely? How many are being reunited with loved ones? How many are falling in love with someone who makes being encapsulated in flesh worthwhile? What if the same factor that is causing the pain you hear is also causing these instances of great joy?”

As Halle spoke of the joys of the world, Terra allowed herself to listen to the voices of the mortal entities once more. The din of pain was still there, but now she could perceive something else. Halle was correct in her intuition that the bonds transcending lifetimes for the mortals were valuable to them. The sense of connection with others was a joy and even a blessing in the minds of those who had achieved it. Terra had braced herself for the idea that this bond was the enemy; instead, it seemed it could also be a source of great comfort and even inspiration.

“What can this mean? Am I to work for this bond, against it, or regard it as irrelevant to me? As a guide, I’m only meant to observe some of the aspects of humanity. I find that I can’t account for this.”

Halle smiled. “Poor Terra, I see where this is difficult for you. I’m sure that if you need to understand this element, you will. You need to give yourself time. Stop second guessing yourself and be the guide you are meant to be.”

Terra shook her head. She knew that Halle was right; she could not change any of these elements. They had always been there. She had never looked closely at human bonds because she was not mortal. Now that Terra understood that there was more to the situation for each placement, she could be more vigilant about long-range outcomes, which involved stressing these corporeal ties.

Halle and Terra spent the afternoon catching up. Terra tried not to mention her dilemma again; it was not Halle’s burden to bear. She was grateful to Halle for helping her to see the joy that accompanies this complicated tendency. Gradually she felt more in balance with the charges that she was monitoring now.

Terra returned to her workspace with many new ideas to integrate with her view of her role. If she was going to be a useful guide, she would have to work out how all of these concepts could fit together. A little perspective can lead to a world of self-doubt. Suddenly, Terra felt like a child holding a magnifying glass and a stick while poised over a nest of ants. Who was she to probe and burn the inhabitants? Why was she exempt? Could there be another being manipulating her in the same manner?

As Terra recalled the entities that had paired themselves to one another over the eons, her perception of them as created solely for The One began to change. She knew the point to their existence almost before they were created, yet they had their own priorities. Could it be that these mortal souls were more capable than the immortal souls who guided them? Was it possible that she was missing the biggest part of the picture? If a bond between two souls was so strong that it could withstand multiple placements in the mortal world, it must play into the placement of the souls. Could this bond be dangerous? Could it be a distraction from the sacred reason for existence? If that was the case, she would need to find a way to keep these individuals as separate as possible.

Another thought was nagging Terra: she kept returning to the capacity for love. Why would individuals have been given the capacity to love and to form bonds if they were not intended to use it? Slowly, a realization occurred to her: these individuals were not going against the will of The One. These bonds were meant to help, not hinder. Could it be that the joining of two imperfect humans was the very strength they needed to maintain an existence within a world of confusion and decay?

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Read Chapter 3 of my paranormal series starter, Alive for free!

Chapter 3

Terra’s work with the trainees was progressing quickly. Of course, that was the bonus of working with individuals specifically intended and designed to achieve a purpose that they are fully aware of. In that manner, guiding trainees was very different from guiding the mortal entities.

During each session, the trainees could tolerate and impressively manage more of the onslaught of mortal feedback that was second nature to Terra. Their innate curiosity drove them to ask the right questions; they asked exactly what they needed to know, which made it easy for Terra. She did not have to anticipate and prepackage as much information; the exchange was more natural.

When Terra had begun training the two new guides she had dreaded the assignment; but she found, over time, that she enjoyed their visits more than she thought she would. Of course, instant gratification when guiding someone was a seductress in its own way. However, there was more to it than that: she began to value their insight. The way they saw her, and the job she did, was open and so very different than the way she saw herself in the role. She found that she did not look forward to releasing them to their own purpose; but this was selfish of her, and she knew it.

During one such training session, Brendan asked Terra the one question that she did not really care to answer. His expression was grim when he voiced, “Have you ever questioned your guidance?”

Terra froze abruptly. Had Brendan seen some sign of self-doubt that she did not realize that she was sharing? She kept her response simple: “Why do you ask?”

“So much rests on decisions you make for others. You see the outcome, but they live it.” He paused while his fingers gripped his knees in agitation, and then rephrased his question. “Has there ever been anything that made you feel like you made a mistake? How do you deal with that?”

Terra considered the question carefully. A few years ago there had been a situation that had caused her to hesitate, caused her to have to doubt. She pushed it away from her thoughts. She was not sure that she was willing to open that door; but in fairness, Brendan’s was a legitimate concern. That much she could never deny. She braced herself, and slowly began to retell the scenario.

“Yes, not too long ago there was a family that had to be faced with a difficult situation. I thought it was for the greater purpose, so I didn’t hesitate. Even so, watching the situation play out, the pain it caused and the relationships it affected, gave me a new perspective.”

“Will you share it with us?” Elise asked.

“I will, but I need to clarify the situation,” said Terra. “I can only recall a few moments that I questioned the guidance I had given. In those situations I could see that the result would be agreeable to the plan, but some costs seemed too high. There were cases where human perceptions and emotions seemed to reach out to draw me in. The bonds between some mortals were so strong that they seemed to draw those mortals to one another across the divide between the mortal world and The Tweens.”

“You mean soul mates?” said Brendan. “We studied that phenomenon. Some say it is not real: that corporeals are either driven by hormones, or that the relationships are symbiotic to the task they are to complete but no more than that.” His voice trailed off.

“Is that what you truly believe?” Terra asked. Her voice sounded hollow. Brendan hesitated. She could tell he was worried about sharing his true opinion. “Go ahead. I’m not here to judge you, tell me what you think.”

“No, that’s not what I believe. I think there’s something to another theory; one that’s not taught in class.” Brendan’s voice sounded fragile.

“You mean that soul mates are created to complete one another? That they are meant to be?” Brendan’s face revealed a small sense of relief as he realized that Terra was aware of the rumor. “I’ve given the matter quite a bit of thought actually,” she admitted. “I would never have believed it myself, but I’ve seen situations play out that screamed the truth of it all. Yes, I do believe that soul mates are created for one another. I’ve seen connections on Earth transcend so much more than a symbiotic union.”

Elise’s interest was piqued. “Please tell us what you saw,” she asked. “At least then we can make an informed judgment.”

“Alright; but you will have to listen carefully and not reach any conclusions until I have shared all the facts with you.” Terra was determined to retell the story objectively. “Once, I placed the soul of a young woman during her family’s journey in a wagon train across the prairie of the United States. Her underlying purpose was to change the way that the mortals placed as pioneers and the mortals placed as Native Americans saw one another. It was plain to me that both groups were of the same origin. They were created for an individual purpose within their own groups, and were intended to live in harmony with one another, yet they lived at odds. They competed for finite space within a world that is no more than a speck of dust in an infinite universe, and hated one another simply for the differences in the flesh that contained the immortal spark. Their mortal bodies only let them see the differences in their worldly forms and practices; they could not see the commonalities between them. They could not see love and respect, a common need to survive, the mother’s need to nurture her child. Instead, they were blinded by differences that never really mattered. The pain they inflicted on one another was endless. One culture eventually overtook the other, but it was a blight to both.”

Terra felt herself sinking into the situation that had given her so much to ponder. “This baby was born into a cruel world. Even as she entered it, so helpless and pure, her source of comfort faded. My heart broke for her as her mother cradled her while bleeding to death from her birth. I held her mother’s hand here in The Tweens while the child’s father sobbed over the loss of his wife. The mother realized that, in conceiving the child, she and her husband had completed their earthly mission.”

Terra’s work space seemed very quiet. Her trainees seemed very far away; they were experiencing the situation vicariously. She continued. “The baby did not seem to thrive. Her source of warmth and sustenance was gone. There was no other woman among the group who could nourish her. They dug a shallow grave for the mother; they could not bring her remains to their new home; then lingered at the camp for days. It was obvious that the husband did not want to leave the place where he had lost his wife. As they lingered, the infant began to fade away. The father could barely stand to look at the child whom he could not save. She was the image of her mother’s earthly form; the symbol of the act that had brought her into the world and taken her mother from it. He was conflicted between the need to protect and save his infant daughter, and the resentment that she lingered on in exchange for her mother’s life. At last, the child seemed to succumb to the lack of basic needs. In truth, she was still only fading away; I could see that she still lived. She did not make the return to The Tweens. The father believed his daughter to be dead; he believed he had failed to keep her alive, just as he had failed his wife. He wrapped the child in her mother’s favorite quilt, intending to bury her remains next to her mother; however, something stopped him. He could not bear to put the beautiful baby into the darkness of the ground. Instead, he made the decision to leave the child behind. The wagon train pulled away; it would never return to that forlorn place. After the group was long gone, the infant awoke and found herself alone and at the mercy of the prairie. The father’s grief served as a reminder so strong as to brand the immortal part of him permanently. The mother looked on, torn, from The Tweens. She could no longer nurture the child she had borne, or ease the grief of her soul mate. The parents’ path was not an easy one, but this infant was meant for far greater things. They could not see the greatness ahead of their daughter. They could not see the changes she could make in the lives of others. They saw only the tragedy that they were living during that moment.”

“Was it then that you doubted your decision?” Elise asked. Her musical voice seemed to quiver. She hid behind the veil of her pale hair to mask the grief on her face from Terra, who saw it anyway.

“It was the start of the seed of doubt, but it did not bloom until I saw more,” Terra answered Elise as honestly as she could. Brendan put his face in his hands; it was clear he was still involved in the story.

“I’m not sure I could have lived with letting that happen, even if it was meant to,” Brendan whispered.

Terra resolved herself to tell more of the sorrow she had witnessed; the sorrow that she had caused with great intentions. She felt ashamed.

“I could feel the pain of the parents. I could feel the sense of loss of the father and the helplessness of the mother. I could feel a scale of emotions: anger, fear, regret, hopelessness; and I wished that I could change the course of their lives. I knew that the pain was a step along the paths they were meant to take, but they would never have chosen these paths for themselves. Free will would have sent them running in the opposite direction to prevent the tragedy at hand. I could see the whole picture: I knew the strength of the young woman who was entering the world, the difference that her mortal life could make. She was part of the master plan, but I felt torn, and my confidence began to waiver as I comforted the child’s earthly mother.”

Both Brendan and Elise remained motionless as they attempted to take in the gravity of the story they were being told.

“Of course there was more. I was not just witnessing earthly pain,” Terra continued. “I watched the woman as she reconciled her human life with her immortal memories. I saw her gain the perspective of the immortal. She began to remember her existence before her birth, and recalled the lives on Earth that she had experienced. I felt her sadness at the turns her mortal life had taken, and her pain and loss from being separated from her love. Although the human ties of maternal hormones had faded away, her love for the child she had borne did not dissipate. She longed to change the ending to her story even as she relished her immortal success.”

“So that made it okay, knowing she had succeeded?” Elise was being earnest. She could not see how to resolve the two ideas.

“To be honest: no. I began to lose myself in the situation,” admitted Terra.

Brendan took his head from his hands. His face revealed a particle of surprise. “I thought that once you learned to separate yourself, you would not be overwhelmed by these events?” he seemed genuinely concerned.

“I thought so too.” Terra paused. “Even so, feeling this glut of emotions was overwhelming to me. Normally, I could experience the thoughts and feelings of my charges, but I could keep them separate from myself. This was something else. The situation seemed to drag me in. The strength of emotions, the pull of bonds I could never really have, seemed to swallow me up. I felt myself slipping, and I fought it. I held on to the vision of the greater good, clung to the success of the mother in her divine purpose, pushed the pain away.”

“How could you possibly overcome something like that? Elise’s voice showed more and more strain.

“I saw it resolved,” Terra answered. “I held the mother’s hand and encouraged her to see that her mortal daughter was not meant to die there in the prairie. Even as the day began to wane and the sunlight faded, taking with it the infant’s last source of warmth, there was hope. In spite of the insects that found and bit her; even as the carrion animals began a slow descent, there was hope. The mother looked at me with pleading eyes. ‘Why do you make me watch her end?’” she asked. “Will she be with me here soon? Will her suffering end tonight?’”

Terra continued her story. “I felt her resolve slip again. Her pain made it impossible to focus on the hope in the situation. Her desire to see her infant safe and to end the pain of her love was so great. She found no peace here, despite being spared from the physical pain of life. That is when the doubt overtook me. I realized the cost that my guidance had brought upon this woman. We observed the child together; she was so alone and vulnerable.

“The cadence of footfalls that approached could only be that of a galloping herd animal. The rhythm slowed, and a horse carrying a native scout came within our view. I felt the mother’s terror. She still could not see him as a fellow soul that was on a mortal journey; she saw him as an intruder, a threat to the delicate infant lying abandoned with only the arching sky and the endless waves of grasses for protection. Even as I felt her terror, I could also sense that her husband’s grief was deepening. He recognized that he was responsible for not only the death of his beloved wife, but now the death of his daughter also. He vacillated between the desire to return to the remains, and the desire to join them both on the other side. He had no way of knowing that his daughter was not dead, and was oblivious to the fact that a stranger now reached out to her in compassion. The stranger, whom he would have seen as an enemy, would be strong enough to do for her what her father could not do: save her life.”

“So he had to live with his grief?” asked Brendan.

“Yes. All who spend any amount of time encapsulated in the mortal form must eventually live with grief, or die with it. It’s part of the process.” Terra continued her recollection of the events. “The ironic part in all of this is that, to the family, this native brave would have been perceived as a savage; yet he lifted the child, weakened from exposure, with care. He held her tiny body close to him as he remounted his pony and returned to his village.”

“So there is a happy ending to this story after all. You were right in pursuing the path, despite the pain of the family,” said Elise.

“You’re partly right,” Terra paused. “Stripped of mortal blinders, the mother began to understand that her little one was safe. We watched them return to the village. A woman named ‘Golden Feather’ welcomed the child. Her own young one was a toddler now. He scarcely needed the warm milk his mother offered. Now the infant, whom she named ‘Found a Flower’, was warm and fed. She would raise the young one as her own child in the ways of the Great Indian Nation. The baby would grow to be a strong woman who would help the people during the troubling times that lay ahead.”

“And did the father overcome his grief?” asked Brendan.

“It is that element to this story that held my attention the most. The father was not far behind his wife in death. Being separated from her seemed to starve him on a deeper level. He could not fill the void of loss in his life. He seemed to waste away and died of grief. His wife’s force seemed to draw him from beyond the grave. Free of the burden of guilt and maternal loss, she requested to view him daily. I allowed her. I felt responsible for the situation between them. As she looked in on him, I observed the strangest thing. She would talk to him; and, although surely he could not hear her, he seemed to respond. He would stop what he was doing, and his heart rate would increase. His thoughts would flood with her memory, his emotions would ebb and flow with love and grief.”

“So he could not share in the joy of completing his part to the plan? He could never feel comfort?” asked Elise.

“To be honest I began to wonder if, by allowing the wife to observe him, I was making his pain worse.” Terra remembered how conflicted she had become. “I wondered if I should stop the observations because of the negative health effect it seemed to have on him, but I found that I could not deny her this one simple request. Within three months, the husband joined his wife in The Tweens. It was as though they had willed themselves to be reunited so strongly that it could not be avoided.”

“Could he forgive you for the pain that he endured when he understood the purpose?” asked Brendan.

Terra considered his question carefully. “Once here in The Tweens, the tenor of their emotions seemed to shift immensely. Their love for one another seemed to emanate between them like they were meant to be joined. His guilt remained; that part of him would be forever changed. The two of them would look over their earthly daughter. They beamed with pride at her every accomplishment. Their love seemed to sustain her through the hard times, through hunger and conflict. She flourished, and was a source of strength to those around her. I wondered if she gained strength through her parents’ love, just as her father had seemed to be in tune with his wife while she was already in The Tweens.”

“If you had it to consider again, would you do it differently?” asked Elise. “I know that it worked out, but you said that the pain changed them?”

“To be honest I want to say yes; but now I know that some bonds, and some pains, span more than a lifetime, I am not sure I can act as blindly in the future. With this family, I had no reason not to believe that, so long as the plan was completed, all would be well. In reality, it was partly well; but some pain cannot be erased with time, space or transition from mortality. Some songs cannot be rewritten once they are sung.”

“And then,” ventured Brendan, “did you just send them forward?”

“In some ways, yes,” Terra paused to reflect. “But the question you asked of me earlier, about soul mates, became an inclination that I wanted to understand more. I found myself drawn to observing these individuals, and the love that they sustained for one another. They had formed bonds that transcended mortal constrains. They could now remember multiple lifetimes of finding one another. They needed one another; their part in the plan was forever intertwined.”

“Why would you bother trying to understand? You aren’t mortal? I can’t imagine wanting to be somebody’s soul mate,” said Elise. “Tied to another entity; more like fettered…”

“I don’t see things that way,” suggested Brendan. “To me, it is more about being aware of the bonds that charges have before you choose their scenario to carry out their plan. If you could avoid splitting them in such a wrenching way, then you may avoid doing more harm than good.”

“How do you see it?” Elise demanded. Her pale eyes looked at Terra expectantly.

“Some small part of me felt envy,” Terra admitted. “My responsibility was to guide. I cared for my charges, but the love that I felt was from afar. I didn’t have the deep sense of belonging that some corporeals feel for one another; I assume that I never will. A seed of self-doubt began to grow inside me while watching these soul mates suffer with one another; or in spite of one another. On some level I wanted to repair the pain and grief that it caused them, I wanted to understand it. Surely a mortal life was difficult enough without the torture of love and separation. Loss is not born well by the living as a general rule, yet here I was witnessing a sword with two edges. The two souls were broken without the other present to complete them. There was nothing that I could do to guide them or change that for them.”

“So you agree then? Brendan demanded.

“Yes, I think that you are right about this one,” Terra acknowledged. Elise widened her eyes in surprise; she was confident in her correctness. Terra would have felt the same way at one time.

“The connection these individuals had was too strong to happen accidentally. Had I considered the bond before the placement, I may have been able to spare them some of the pain that they found as mortals and beyond.

On the surface, Terra had done exactly what she was meant to do. She had guided her charges towards a specific result, but she did not calculate the degree of difficulty and sorrow that they would experience. She had caused more grief than she had imagined or set out to accomplish. Could it really be ethical and correct to pursue a result at such as cost?

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Read Chapter 2 of my paranormal series starter, Alive for free!

Chapter 2

The two trainees arrived promptly at the designated time. Terra sized them up quickly. The man was energetic; his quick eyes scanned the room, as though they could absorb the surroundings and reinvent them for the greater good. Confidence could be a good sign. The woman was a small, sprightly thing. She looked young and naive, and indeed she was. Even so, there was a soulful calmness that seemed to emanate from her. Her every motion was controlled and purposeful. These were Terra’s assignments, sent to represent the new wave of trainees. Earth’s population was growing, and more guides were needed now.

The man extended his hand in a very mortal gesture: a hand shake. Terra humored him by returning the gesture. The woman seemed to size up Terra’s reaction to the handshake and extended hers as well.

“Elise and Brendan I presume?” Terra said. She was ready to get the introductions over with. “I’m Terra. I will be helping you learn on your journey to become a guide.” Terra could not help thinking of the mortals she could be helping as they spoke. “Never mind that, helping all towards the greater good is important,” she quietly chastised herself.

“Yes ma’am,” Brendan said. He smiled sincerely. Terra was sure that she would get along with him. Elise nodded her head deliberately.

The two trainees entered the work space and looked around. Terra could see Elise’s eyes were already trained on the portal that was currently displaying the human life of one of her charges. “Please have a seat.” Terra gestured to a group of cushions arranged in the middle of the space. She sat on the cushion nearest the portal, which glowed innocuously in its modest frame of worn wood in the far corner, and arranged her ordinary white frock so that it draped appropriately as she situated herself. The small room had delicate eggshell colored walls that emanated their own natural light. Terra had decorated the walls with a few paintings of Earth’s views that her friend Halle had created to beautify the blue planet. They were Terra’s to enjoy now.

“Is this always your work space?” Elise spoke for the first time. Her voice had a musical quality to it.

“Yes; I prefer to have a private space, so I can focus wholly on my decisions,” Terra answered. “There is no room for mistakes caused by me; mortals make enough of their own.” She felt herself smile at the realization.

“Do other guides work together?” Brendan asked.

“I think that’s the way of the future. More and more new guides choose to share the responsibility for masses of individuals rather than focus their entire energy on a few. I can see the benefit and the drawback either way.” Terra held back the part where she preferred to work alone because she could keep her thoughts to herself and focus solely on her work.

“Why do you use the portal?” asked Elise. “I thought you could hear and feel the thoughts and needs of all the entities you guide.”

“That’s true, but that is not the only information you will need to make choices. I can hear my charges, but that doesn’t tell me anything about the mortals they interact with. That does not give me a full idea of the circumstances they are facing. This way, I can look at more facts, more elements of each decision, before I change my guidance. Few guides use the portal as a tool anymore. They prefer to see the world through human eyes.”

The two trainees nodded, and Terra could tell they were a little intimidated. She imagined that visiting her, the known recluse, they were probably realizing this was not the training assignment they had hoped for. Never mind that; it was time to move forward, so that she could have her thoughts and her space to herself once more.

Terra extended her hands towards the trainees, palm up. “First: order of business,” she announced. “Today will be your initial taste of the connection you will have with your charges.” The two trainees nodded their heads. This part had been explained to them before. “I need to warn you: it can be overwhelming at first. Some guides have a very difficult time adjusting to so many thoughts and feelings that are not their own whirring around constantly. I suggest that you learn to separate yourself from your charges. It’s the only way to stay objective.” Terra made her declaration in a matter-of-fact tone, but her confidence did not extend to her mannerisms as she reached out to the visitors with the awkward motions of an adolescent at a dance.

Brendan seemed nervous, but reached towards Terra’s hand dutifully. Elise stopped short. “Will it be painful?” she asked.

“At times it can be painful, or joyful, or confusing. It depends on the feelings and emotions of the mortals. Nevertheless, feeling their pain second hand is different than the experience the corporeals feel directly. You’re not in a mortal body. Physical suffering can never be yours. Emotional pain is much worse to feel through others.” Terra answered her as honestly as she knew how. “Don’t worry, you’re made for this! You will do beautifully.” Her encouragement felt a little strained, but it seemed to work. Elise firmed her resolve and reached towards Terra’s outstretched palm with no outward sign of trepidation. Terra allowed a portion of the corporeal entities’ emotions, thoughts, impulses – every nuance of the human experience – to flow through her palms. She felt her trainees become tense as the wave reached them. They were experiencing only a small portion of the flow that she took in at all times. Long ago, Terra had learned to section herself off from the din of her charges, thereby allowing her to manage both her own thoughts and those of her charges at once. The trainees were unable to manage this separation for now; it was too new to them. She felt Brendan try to pull away first.

“Don’t fight the feelings; just try thinking of your day, push the flow to the back of your mind!” Terra spoke to him firmly. He seemed to understand that this was a command, not a request, and she felt his resolve strengthen. They continued for a few more minutes. Terra could tell that, to the trainees, this small increment of time seemed like eternity. This perception was appropriate, because one day soon it would be the truth of their eternity. Elise seemed to manage as though she had more experience; she was a natural. Terra hoped that Elise’s sense of judgment, and empathy, would be as strong. She suspected that Brendan would have an advantage over Elise in that area.

When the trainees had shouldered as much of the world’s never-ending flow of pains and joys as Terra felt they could handle, she allowed them to rest. The whole ordeal was quite draining for them.

“This is why you learn to deal with the onslaught in small increments before taking on charges of your own,” Terra said. “You would be no good to anyone in a state of panic, or losing yourself in the masses.

“I can see why,” Elise nodded. She seemed a little faint. Brendan was almost translucent with the strain, but was holding himself up in defiance of his momentary waiver.

“I saw some odd questions in the thoughts. There was a priest; I think he was very concerned about the idea of creation? Elise asked.

“You should know the truth of that; you were only recently created yourself,” Terra said.

“Yes, but his ideas seemed foreign to me,” Elise replied quizzically.

“It is his perspective that is foreign; you have never been born to mortality,” Terra answered.

“I’m not sure that I understand,” said Brendan.

“I’ll try to explain,” Terra began. “The mortal world of Earth has many ideas about creation. Some mortals believe that life begins with the conception of a child. Others believe a human life begins at birth. So many notions contain only the observable, scientific part of the physical being formed. Others attempt to tie the beginning of existence to the entity as a whole: mind, body and soul. None even come close to the intricate complexity and beauty that is the existence of a new entity: that part of creation occurs considerably before the physical existence of the mortal shell.”

“So, they are created in the same manner as us?” Brendan asked.

“Yes, of course; but it is not that simple to them. One common view focuses on two cells uniting and creating a spark of life. Two sets of twenty-three chromosomes boldly intersect, then account for every physical characteristic the mortal body will ever encompass. It’s the closest thing to magic that some humans deem themselves able to produce.”

The trainees looked at Terra with interest. She could tell they were trying to wrap their minds around the differences in perception. “Others take the stance that life begins as an infant; born into the world. Apparently, moving from the role of a symbiotic organism that is as much parasite to the mother as it is offspring is regarded as the starting line of existence. Until the physical body is removed from its host by force, the being is not considered to be existent. Most mortal women who have carried a child will attest that the child ‘exists’ long before this point, as evidenced by the movement of the growing infant, and the strain put on the body of the mother.”

Elise began to disagree. “That seems like a limited view…”

Terra stopped her. “You know they can’t remember; you were already taught about the limitations mortality places on the immortal memory.” She continued her train of thought. “None of these ideas are completely erroneous. Obviously, the physical development of a fetus begins at conception. Certainly a human life cannot begin to develop as an individual or interact with others until that life is released from the constraints of its mother’s womb. However, neither idea answers a deeper question. When did the conscious part of an individual, the awareness that makes him or her into the person they will become, begin? The answer is: long before the individual was ever conceived.”

“Exactly! Why are they not allowed to remember that part of who they are?” Brendan was at a loss.

“It is not about being forbidden; it is about being able,” Terra said.

“I’m not sure that I see a difference,” Brendan responded.

“From a mortal perspective, an individual has always been destined to become the person that they are. It seems evident to those on Earth that a person’s soul and body belong together. They seem predestined for one another; two parts of a whole. In fact, this could not be further from the truth.” Terra was glad that she would be able to check this lesson off of the training list. “Entities are created by The One. Many are created, but each is a singular individual. Each has unique characteristics that can make them better suited for specific life styles, individual strengths and weaknesses, and each is designed with some purpose to fulfill in the master plan of The One. Each has a separate path to lead, yet all are interconnected in a grand tapestry of existence that is being symbolically woven by the creator.

“That is where we come in,” said Elise.

“Exactly.” Terra paused. “Very few entities have witnessed the actual act of creation. I hope that, one day, I will be fortunate enough to witness such a spectacular sight with my own eyes. Those who have experienced it consistently describe it as an event of such beauty and simplicity that mere word fails to do it justice. I can only begin to imagine.”

“I’d like to see that too.” Brendan’s voice was barely a whisper.

Terra continued her explanation. “Because each entity has a purpose to fulfill, the paths that they take can vary. When entities are sent to the guides they can have innumerable possibilities for their temporal path, or the physical being that the entity will be joined with. The key is to find a match that will best fulfill the specific part they have to play. Of course, humans have free will. This alone makes accomplishing transcendent goals not clearly remembered by mortal brains somewhat tricky, which is why a strong guide is essential. Unfortunately, this is also why some entities require more than one placement with mortality to complete the objectives set forth for them.”

“It would be so much easier if we could just tell them what part they have to play!” Elise said.

“True, but maybe not for them,” Terra answered. “We accept that our mission is set, but we aren’t distracted by time constraints and mortality. Mortals like to feel they have a say in charting their course, so setting the mortal entity up for success is imperative. Your job is the key. What happens between the creation of the immortal part of an entity, the soul if you will, and the moment an entity becomes determined to be placed on a certain path is the key. That is when an entity ‘becomes’ the person that they will be on Earth. This connection between the spiritual and physical could stack the deck for or against an individual from the start. A human whose innermost soul is at conflict or hampered by the physical being is not likely to make any sort of positive contribution to anything. Instead, they live in a conflicted existence that the guide must continually try to influence towards its intended fruition.”

“The mortals must be glad to have the guide’s input if their own resolve isn’t dependable,” said Brendan.

“Often this tampering is unwelcome in the life of the conflicted person. They would rather be left to their own devices to sort themselves out than be endlessly goaded by a force they can’t understand towards an end that is not apparent to them. These individuals experience constant ‘why me’ moments, and cannot understand why they have things happening in their lives that they do not welcome. I can only hope that the ends are greater than the means.”

“I think that I understand what you mean, about it being dependent on perspective,” Elise commented.

Terra responded: “Looking over my charges is my greater purpose. I’m glad to do it. However, because humans have free will I can only guide; I can’t make decisions for anyone. And decisions must be lived with; unless, of course, they’re fatal ones. It can be very frustrating to watch people set themselves up to fail. I too sometimes wonder why we can’t just send souls to Earth with a clear picture of their greater purpose. Some vague sense of purpose is often not enough to direct an individual down the right path. Beginning a journey with a road map instead of hope of finding the way seems to make sense. Even so, I do not see the greater plan. I, like those on Earth, have to trust that the plan is beyond my meager understanding, and do what is asked of me.”

“So, you do think it would work better to send entities with a set plan?” Brendan asked.

“Sometimes, but I think maybe the journey of finding one’s self and finding the goal is part of the experience,” Terra said. “Of course, there’s a safety net. Those corporeals who do not reach their fruition can return to Earth to try once again. They don’t cease to exist, despite their shortcomings. Ironically, mortals can only base their faith in continued existence on the testimony of those who have more faith than they do. They can’t recall The Tweens with the fleshy constraints of their human encampment, just as they can’t see the flashing neon signs that spell out in finite detail their intended part in existence. Most individuals whose attempts are cut short choose to return to Earth, even though they realize the true intentions of the mortal life they left will again be clouded by earthly limitations. When their immortal memories are no longer encumbered by the flesh, they have a truer sense of self. They can see more clearly the relationships they have with others on Earth, and beyond. They seek loved ones, though the biological tie is no longer relevant. They seek partners and lovers, though they have no physical need or desires. I find it a little strange…”

“No, not strange. That part makes sense,” said Brendan.

Terra was sure that the look she gave him was quizzical. At least, she meant for it to be. He was seeing something that she had wrangled with more than once, with a different result, and she was not sure where he could be coming from.

“I understand the need to complete a greater purpose,” she responded. “I subscribe to the same school of thought, in part. My greater purpose is to guide, and I mean to be successful. It is my singular focus. That, however, is the extent of my parallels. The need of individuals to reconnect with persons from another plane of existence is strange to me, yet they value these emotional ties to such a degree that they seek one another out openly and aggressively. More amazing is the fact that they believe that the individuals they lost are still in existence. They have no way of conceptualizing the truth of an immortal plane, but they seem to sense their loved one with some sort of transcendent connection. They do not falter in their hopes of finding lost loves.”

“It’s sweet,” smiled Elise. She seemed to blush as she was suddenly conscious that, by speaking, she had drawn Terra’s attention.

“I find that, while I don’t really understand the point of these emotional ties, I sometimes envy them,” Terra conceded. “I wonder what it would be like to be so profoundly linked to another entity that the bond could survive mortal lifetimes, separations, trials and diverging purposes, and then manage to find that entity again with the same zeal and enthusiasm. I suppose understanding that is not my place in existence, and some things are better left a mystery.”

“It’s kind of too bad,” ventured Elise.

“It’s the way things are.” Terra’s face betrayed no flicker of deeper emotion.

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