WITH MY NEWEST WORK—a full-length novel entitled The Healer—writing itself out full-steam ahead, I would now like to unveil an exclusive first look for you all!
Packed with even more of the metaphysical, shamanic, and quantum-level elements you’re loving so far in my Energy Anthology series, (Still more of those to come ahead, too!) The Healer is an experience you are not going to want to miss. Currently holding a projected Spring 2014 publication date, keep yours eyes on the1978one and Starfield Press for more information and exclusive surprises to come!
And now, I present to you the exclusive debut excerpt from The Healer: A Novel
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SHE HAD NEVER FOUND anything in the world like rain. It never ceased to amaze her how each drop was so entirely and utterly different.
Although there were billions of individual drops in even the smallest shower, if one went deep enough, each drop was so unique it could not even begin to be said one drop was like another. Each had been on its own journey around the world countless times. Each drop had gathered images and impressions of all the places it had been, each person it had touched, and every other drop it had come into contact with. Each drop remembered, in an endless chain of interconnected information that now coursed through her awareness the instant it touched her naked body.
She felt it.
Even after several lifetimes, rain still managed to leave her marveling. She couldn’t help but spread her arms and throw back her head, whether she was reading the rain for business or pleasure.
It was as if little pieces of the world had been laid directly at her feet.
When one opened to such an experience, it was extremely easy to get lost inside it, even for one so accomplished and practiced. It required a total abandonment of self, a deep releasing of all but the act itself. The simultaneous blending of highness and humbleness it twisted round and round within one created a vortex that was effortlessly able to blot out all other senses or realities.
And realities were what she knew.
She had been thoroughly fascinated when scientists published the first illustrations of DNA—the deoxyribonucleic acid that is the basis of all physical life. The spiraling she had always experienced when reading the rain had been depicted perfectly in the strands of the DNA coils and helixes shown weaving intricate and marvelous patterns as distinct as each droplet of rain itself. The biographical and historical data that could be extracted from a single strand of DNA was unable to be fully comprehended by the human mind, but even that data was limited to certain family lines, and often only certain regions.
But rain—or, more specifically, water—could relate so much more information to her. If the moment was right, virtually everything everywhere could be found. There was nothing that was not connected to something.
She stood atop the largest mausoleum of GraceViewCemetery, arms spread, absorbing the raindrops. Long, black hair hung from her tilted head, dripping water down her back, a mirror of the water dripping from her pointed breasts in front, and from her fingertips to each side.
Closing her eyes, she smiled into the sky and the downpour. This had quickly become her favorite perch for reading rain. Discovering this graveyard and making it her own had made her relocation from southern Europe considerably easier, if she had ever had such a thing as a hard time with her moves. She honestly did not know how other Readers worked, but she had found long ago that having a secure space she could open completely in gave her an upper hand that had proved to be invaluable for her countless times. It was the first thing she sought each time she moved, whether the move was necessary, or if it was of her own free will. The places she chose as her own weren’t always considered so dismal by the public eye as a graveyard was, but the secluded spot she had found in the center of this massive memorial park was the model location for the privacy required to truly focus on the energies.
With her feet firmly planted just over shoulder width apart, she allowed the chill of the rain on her light brown skin to shock her into an altered state of mind.
She slowly inhaled the cool air deep into her lungs. Come to me, she willed, then released the air faster than she had brought it in. As the last bit of breath left her body on the third repetition, her mind rode the tidal wave of energy it sent out, completing her shift to the other world.
Directing her awareness fully toward the drops of water pelting her bare skin, she began to perceive the images and sensations each held inside. It first came as a momentary cacophony of noise flooding her senses, then quickly began to separate and clarify as she expertly focused on specific areas. She spiraled deeper still, searching thousands of individual raindrops for what she desired.
A young man, freshly into puberty, gloomily crosses a small stream, leaving the young woman of his heart behind as he heads for the desert and his rite of passage swam into her awareness. An overweight man slips on an icy sidewalk, sending the stack of colorfully wrapped gifts in his arms sailing in all directions as he lands in a pile of snow, unable to get back up. A shot of ecstatic energy zipped by as two forbidden lovers stole an orgasmic moment in a public swimming pool. 1967.
This time, this country, she directed. The visions shifted.
A young woman screams in frustration as she tries to change a flat tire on her vehicle by herself, freezing to death and soaked to the bone from the downpour. An old man in 1923 with nothing left to lose dances in a puddle and laughs hysterically because it reminds him of the time he and his new bride did that very thing the first night of their honeymoon in the islands.
This city… There.
The energy she had felt distantly, and had traveled to this place for, was there. Rarely had an energy been felt by her from so far, so close to the moment, in such real-time. She typically found her leads from a variety of news reports or stories spread by word of mouth, then moved as close as possible to physically investigate more easily via her gift—truly living in two worlds at once.
She always paid very close attention to all that happened around her, rain or no rain, and new breakthroughs being made in technology promised to make her efforts even easier in the future.
Now, at last, weeks of waiting for a thunderstorm were immediately forgiven as she zeroed in on the person she had felt.
She now found it was a male, currently moving in a hurry from a vehicle to a building in an awkward way, trying to avoid being thoroughly drenched. Quickly accessing his deeper levels, she discovered his line had been clear and uncrossed for twelve generations, spanning five continents. Beautiful, she thought. This was rare, indeed.
She emerged just enough to examine the physical levels closer before she lost him into the building. The information the rain drops fed to her sent a shock through her system.
How could this be?
She began to drop her arms and shift back into her own perceptions. She inhaled a deep breath to sever her connection with the rain, then froze.
Wait. What was that?
She quickly reentered the connection and searched the water drops for confirmation. Something was building, a pressure in the energy increasing. She waited, fully alert.
The discharge of energy sent a shock wave that nearly knocked her from the crypt.
What is going on here?
She opened her eyes and shifted back to her own physical vision. Her eyes swept the cemetery before her while her mind raced. There was nothing in her memories or in her experiences that offered her any clue for what just happened.
There was nothing in her books on this, either.
She was sure of it.
© 2013 Lloyd Matthew Thompson
All Rights Reserved – Unauthorized duplication prohibited