EXCITED LIGHT by Lynn Voedisch

Title of Book: Excited Light
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy, New Age
Author: Lynn Voedisch
Website: http://www.lynnvoedisch.com/
Publisher: ASJA Press
Date of Release: December 13, 2006
ISBN: 0545421733





PURCHASE EXCITED LIGHT HERE!

SUMMARY:
Ten-year-old Alex Griffin has plenty of secrets. At night, from his third-floor bedroom in a drafty Victorian mansion, Alex surveys the world and dreams about how life would be if he weren’t taking care of his single, alcoholic mom, Allegra Bellini. He confides his secrets to his beat-up toy duck, Dudley.Dudley answers him.Excited Light is a tale of magic and second chances. Young Alex, guided by Dudley and the mysterious entities who visit him, endures his mother’s drinking, waiting for a time when she can hear her own spiritual guides.Impulsive Allegra rushes into a reckless romance with Raf Neri, the managing editor of the local newspaper. Neri sweeps her away on a wild ride of nightclubbing, sex, and promises.Then, Neri goes a step too far, taking Allegra to the brink of death. It’s up to Alex to save his mother. Guided by Dudley and his angels, he attempts to work a miracle to set his mother free from her addiction.

EXCERPT:

Alex and Jack walked along the gravel path on the way to the baseball diamond, kicking stones and watching as the dust flew fine and wild about them. It had been a week with almost no rain, and a fine coat of dust had settled on everything: car roofs, lawn furniture, bird houses, even the individual leaves on trees.

As the two approached the baseball diamond -- a bleak affair of yellowish soil, crumbling bleachers and a chain-link backstop with a yawning hole -- a massive cloud of fine silt rose in the air about them. First sailing high, then swirling in a circle, the dust enveloped the boy and young man in their own private, gentle tornado.

Alex stood in the sandstorm, his eyes closed to tiny slits, and watched the light play on the tiny, almost microscopic bits of dust. Light reflected all around him, twinkling and twirling, shimmering with a phosphorescence. The flashes reminded him of sci-fi movies where light streaks passed starship windows, becoming white-hot ribbons containing all the available energy of entire worlds. Alex imagined being in a nebula in the Andromeda Galaxy. It felt as if he were drifting above gravity.

The boy rubbed his eyes, feeling the soot on his lids. By the time he blinked, the tiny storm had ended. The vortex collapsed, leaving Alex and Jack feeling dirty and hot, their eyes stinging from the assault of tiny particles.

Alex and Jack looked at each other and laughed. Alex dropped his head and gazed at the patterns his footprints made in the dust. He figured there was no sense in explaining what he just had seen.

"Why do things like that only happen to me?" Alex asked, mostly to himself.

"They happen to me, too," said Jack, looking straight into Alex's eyes. "You think you're the only one who experiences those little flashes of wonder, but you aren't alone, kiddo. Not by a long shot."

Alex looked down at the ground, wishing he hadn't sounded stupid. He knew his mom wouldn't have seen the lights and the transfixing colors. She'd have seen blowing dirt, pure and simple. No matter what Alex saw, no matter how he described it to his mom, she never, ever shared his experience.

So it was no wonder -- since Mom was Alex's only point of reference -- that he assumed he was strange. A little off. "Weird kid," as one of Mom's old boyfriends used to say. Alex looked up and saw Jack struggling, his mouth pursed as he composed his words.

"It's all a matter of perception, Alex," Jack said, stopping to sit on one of the dilapidated bleacher seats. "Perception. No one's right, and no one's wrong. You see what you want to see."

"Mom would see dirt."

"And we saw dirt, too. Only we also saw the light."

Alex looked into Jack's flashing gray eyes, straightened his back and began to swallow with care.

"The light, in between the dirt, the light is what they're missing," Alex said, brightening.

"The light, the empty spaces, the holes, the air," Jack said, looking off into the hazy distance. "That's what they always miss."

###

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TRUST IN THE WIND by Vicki M. Taylor

Title of Book: Trust in the Wind
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Women's Fiction
Author: Vicki M. Taylor
Website: www.vickimtaylor.com
Publisher: Mundania Press, LLC
Date of Release: June 30, 2006
ISBN: 10: 1594262047
13: 978-1594262043





PURCHASE TRUST IN THE WIND HERE!

SUMMARY:
When pregnant teen, Joanne, chooses single motherhood, she loses everything, including her family. Four years later, she's fiercely independent, trusts no one and is barely keeping her head above water. Roy is a Hillsborough County Sheriff, and a widower who lost his wife and child during a burglary gone terribly wrong. Six years later, he still refuses to love for fear of losing it again. Together, these two just might get a second chance to learn about trust and love. When you can't count on people, TRUST IN THE WIND.

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Crash!

Joanne jumped as a trashcan slammed into the laundry room door. "God, I wish they'd go and get drunk someplace else."

Sheila pulled another t-shirt out of the dryer, folded it, and placed it on top of an already growing pile of clean laundry. With comic grace she pirouetted and said, "It's another lovely Saturday night here at the prestigious Arbor Meadows. Look at the A-list people milling about." With a flip of her hand she picked up the bottle of softener, held it like a microphone and gestured toward the large plate glass window next to the laundry room door.

"It's a star-studded bonanza tonight, folks!"

Sadie Matthews, their long-time neighbor, sometimes babysitter, and surrogate mother, laughed at Sheila's performance.

Clapping, she looked through the window at the scene Sheila referred to only to stop as fast as she started. There was really nothing to laugh about. She could see the usual drunken, brawling group of tenants letting off steam after a hard week's labor. She picked up her laundry basket piled high with fluffy towels.

Joanne pushed up a sigh from deep inside. She hated this place. "Damn, I wish I could afford some place better for Joey to grow up."

"Don't we all, honey." Sadie smiled as she put a hand on Joanne's shoulder and squeezed. "Don't we all." Adjusting her basket against her round and generous hip, she turned to the younger women, waggled a finger, and said, "Don't ya'll stay here too long, ya here? That group out there is fixing on getting mean real soon, and I don't want ya'll anywheres near here, ya got that?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sheila and Joanne chorused together then looked at each other and giggled like ten year olds.

"And, lock that door behind me when I leave. Don't need nothing happening to ya'll with those babies at home." Sadie clicked her tongue and stood on the outside of the laundry room door until Joanne firmly locked it. With a quick wave, she again adjusted the basket against her hip and headed for her little apartment, all the while, casting nervous, but determined, sideways glances to the rowdy group at the end of the parking lot.

Joanne turned from the door as the dryer buzzer called to her. Another load of clothes done. As soon as she finished folding this load, they could head back to their apartment and hide behind their doors pretending the noisy group didn't exist.

"Wanna come over and let the kids watch a video tonight?" Sheila asked.

Joanne pulled soft, warm clothes from the dryer and dropped them onto the tabletop. "Maybe, I dunno. I'll let you know how I feel after I put all these clothes away." Stray hairs escaped the confinement of her ponytail. She pushed the errant wisps back behind her ears.

While folding the last of the towels, she looked around the small laundry room. Paint peeled from the walls, scattered dryer sheets and a rainbow of lint littered the cracked linoleum floor. The too-small portable air conditioner mounted in the wall above the wobbly table blasted semi-warm air into her flushed face. The high humidity level didn't help. She pulled at the hem of her small t-shirt, realizing that the bright green t-shirt shouted "razz me" to the animals on the other side of the glass. At first thinking the t-shirt was cute and sufficient legal coverage for such a hot night, now brought to mind what kind of trouble it could cause her.

Trouble had a way of finding her. Keeping two steps ahead of trouble meant a lot of work for her already stressful life. Joanne wanted to pretend that this horrible place wasn't so bad and if she could just save a little more money she and Joey could move into a better part of town. Then this part of her life could go away and they'd put it behind them like a bad dream.

It would take a lot of pretending to imagine that the pitiful little apartment complex on the edge of the industrial part of town, next to the noisy railroad and the dirty Hillsborough River didn't exist.

BAM!

Joanne jumped.

The pounding on the window made her drop the towel she had just folded to the floor. Bending to pick it up, she glanced toward the window.

Sheila whispered to her, "Don't make eye contact. Just ignore them. Maybe they'll go away."

"They're disgusting. How can they think those gestures are attractive?" Joanne whispered back.
Sheila smothered a small laugh and shrugged her shoulders. "That's their universal mating signal. Good thing we're not from their species otherwise we wouldn't be able to help ourselves."

Now it was Joanne's turn to stifle an uneasy laugh. She tried to ignore the pounding on the glass and the taunts of the drunken onlookers from behind their only protection. "How many times have we asked for a payphone in here?" Joanne swung her arm open for emphasis. "Do you see one?"

"Come on hon, let's get our stuff and get out of here." Sheila tossed a pile of unmated socks into her basket.

The girls gathered the rest of their unfolded laundry into baskets then looked around to make sure they didn't leave anything behind.

"Walk fast and keep your head down, Jo." Sheila said with an air of confidence Joanne knew she really didn't feel deep inside. Joanne gave her credit for trying.

Even so, Joanne nodded, then lifted a basket and placed it on top of another. Exhaling, she lifted both baskets and headed for the door. Sheila did the same, and then reached out an unsteady hand to unlock the door.

"Here we go, into the lion's den."

The taunts and pounding increased in volume as the girls stepped out of the laundry room.

"Yo, mama, gimme some softness!"

"Hey baby, looking good!"

"I'd play house with you any day."

Sheila turned her head and caught Joanne's attention. "Remember, don't make eye contact, Jo."

"I don't plan on it." Joanne pulled her laundry baskets closer to her body. Biting her lower lip, she forced a blank look on her face and stared straight ahead.

"Do me? Yeah baby, let me do you!"

"Ooooo, yeah, shake it, shake it, gimme some fries with that creamy shake!"

"How original." Jo whispered.

"Shhh. . . don't start anything."

The crowd moved in unison toward the women. Joanne checked behind her. The loud taunting voices surrounded them. The rough looking pack closed in, blocking any escape.

"Stay close." Sheila said.

"You too."

The jeering crowd tossed expletives and vulgar comments.

Joanne searched the faces leering back at her. Men and women alike laughed at her discomfort. She shuffled her feet backward and stumbled on loose gravel.

Wobbling sideways, Joanne braced herself to fall. Determined not to make a spectacle of herself, she strained to keep her balance. Wincing, she tightened her grip on the plastic laundry basket even though the handle bit into the sensitive skin of her palm.

For the first time, fear threatened to overwhelm her senses. Joanne pushed aside the rising panic and concentrated on not provoking anyone in the crowd into attacking them.

"Hey, little mama, let me carry that basket for you." A large, unshaven man reached out to pull the basket from Sheila's hands.

"No, thank you."

The large, greasy hands pulled at Sheila's basket.

"I don't think so." Sheila firmly held the basket in both hands. "I don't need any help."

"Hey, me too, let me help!"

Joanne grimaced and turned away from the tall, shirtless man with strange tattoos covering his back. His dirty hands grabbed at her laundry basket.

"No, I can handle it myself."

"Oh, come on, pretty little girl, let me carry it for you. Then you can show me some appreciation."

Joanne pulled her laundry basket hard. She tugged against the stronger man's hold. "No! Give me my basket!"

Clothes flew threw the air and scattered about the ground.

Anger replaced her fear. "Shit, you son-of-a-bitch! Look what you did!" Joanne couldn't hold in her disgust any longer and let loose with a string of curse words that would have made her mother faint dead away.

Raucous laughter burst from the crowd watching the exchange.

Kneeling on the rough asphalt, Joanne pressed her lips closed so she wouldn't make any more outbursts that she might regret.

Without bothering to fold the scattered clothes, she shoved them into the basket as quick as she could. From nowhere, she was lifted to her feet and crushed to a foul smelling body.

"Let me go!"

"Oh, come on baby, you and me just need to get to know each other."

Joanne swallowed hard past a large lump. Bile rose in her throat. She wanted to vomit from the combined stench of sour sweat, cheap whiskey mixed with stale beer, and the foul breath of the man holding her.

"Hey, Jerk-off, let her go!"

"Sheila, get back. Go get help!"

"Oh, no you don't. You're gonna stay here." With that, Sheila's arms were pulled behind her back.

"Get off me!" Sheila kicked out. Her little plastic flip flops made no impact against her captor's leather boots and heavy jeans.

Joanne's mind raced. They wouldn't really try anything out here in the open, would they? Not with everyone watching? She had to convince these jerks to turn Sheila loose.

"Hey, let her-" sirens drowned the rest of her words. Wide-eyed, she watched several police cars with flashing blue and red lights pull into the complex from various directions, converging on the group. Bright lights lit up the dark. She heaved a sigh of relief as the smelly thug that held her close pushed her away.

Rubbing her arms and trying to wipe away the grime, she watched several uniformed officers round up the crowd. Two officers made their way to Sheila and Joanne just as Sadie hurried toward them. "Are you girls okay?" Sadie called out. "I knew there was gonna be trouble. I just knew it."

"Are you the one who called the police?" an officer asked.

"Yep, that's right. I did." Sadie clucked like a mother hen over her chicks as she checked first Joanne then Sheila for injuries.

"You poor things. Honestly, I don't know how this place got to be so bad. Why, when I first moved here we didn't have any hooligans running around like they owned the place." Sadie gave the officer a reproachful look that could have meant it was their fault her neighborhood fell to ruins. "Are you girls sure you're okay?"

Joanne and Sheila both assured Sadie that they were fine.

Two more officers moved forward as Sadie took a breath. "We're going to need statements from all of you. If you could come this way."

"Sure, no problem," Sheila walked with the female officer toward the laundry room door.

"Miss, if you could come this way?" another female officer motioned to Joanne.

"Of course. Let me just pick up my laundry first." Joanne knelt next to her basket.

***

Roy separated himself from the noisy crowd from which he had been gathering statements and watched silently as the small girl in the bright yellow t-shirt knelt down on the ground and gathered clothes that were strewn about. On impulse, he hurried over and offered to help.

"Here, let me get that for you."

"No!" Startled, Joanne reacted. She looked up to find a pair of kind gray eyes watching her carefully. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still a little jumpy from all this." She motioned toward the crowd.

Roy stood then put a gentle hand under Joanne's elbow and lifted her effortlessly to her feet. He took both laundry baskets and strode toward a small bench outside the laundry room.

"Hey, where are you going with my clothes?"

Roy didn't bother answering her; he only cocked his head toward the other officer and asked if she'd taken the young lady's statement yet.

"I was just getting to that, sir."

"Okay, why don't you head over to see if Davis needs any help. I'll take over here."

"Yes, sir, Officer Bonham, sir." The female officer saluted then turned on her heel and moved quickly over to the group to give a hand.

"Is that how you get through life, just taking over?"

Roy carefully placed the baskets on the bench and turned to respond. All words escaped him when he looked down at the feisty spark in the young girl's blue eyes. She stood next to him; her arms hugged her thin body. He could see the writing on her t-shirt -'Dew Me' in bright neon green.

He smiled when she flipped her ponytail then crossed her arms over her chest as if knowing he was reading her t-shirt.

"What are you looking at?"

"I'm not sure."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm Sheriff Roy Bonham. I'll take your statement. Tell me what happened here." To cover his embarrassment, Roy pulled a small notebook and pen from his left breast pocket.

"We, uh . . . we, uh . . . I mean, Sheila and I were doing laundry and we . . ."

Tossing his notebook aside, Roy caught the slight woman before she fell to the ground. "Hey!"

He lifted her slender frame into his arms and sat on the bench. Roy gazed down at the face of the woman who just fainted. She was so small; she fit into his arms like a child. He noticed dark smudges beneath her eyes and wondered what kept her from getting enough sleep.

He raised his hand to brush a few strays of her honey colored hair from her forehead. His hand stopped when her eyelids fluttered open.

"What happened?"

"You fainted."

"No, I didn't."

A low rumble shook Roy's chest. "Yes, you did."

"I don't faint."

Roy tightened his arms when he noticed that her too-thin, soft body no longer lay pliant in his arms. "Hold on, let's make sure you're okay before you go moving around."

"Look Officer Bonham, I'm fine. Let me go, please."

He couldn't resist the embarrassed, pleading look in her eyes. "Alright. Be still." Roy released his hold on her and let her slide off his lap onto the bench. "Maybe you should see a paramedic just to be on the safe side?"

"I don't think so."

The sting in her voice pierced Roy's soul. It echoed on his face.

She must have seen the hurt look on his face because she hurried to say in a softer tone, "That's not necessary. I just got light headed. You know, the heat of the laundry room, the humidity, the cool night air, the . . ." she waved her arm to include the commotion surrounding them.

"Uh huh . . . when was the last time you ate?"

"I dunno. Lunch, maybe? No, wait. I skipped lunch to go and pick up some pants for Joey. I guess it was breakfast."

"You haven't eaten for over twelve hours? No wonder you fainted!"

"Yo, Bradford!" Roy yelled for a deputy sheriff. "Bring me a can of soda."

Roy looked down as a hand tapped his arm. "I drink diet soda."

"Not diet!" he yelled to Bradford then looked back at the young girl staring up at him. "You need the sugar."

His tone meant he wasn't going to argue about it. He watched her close her mouth and cross her hands over her chest. Looks like she's not used to being told what to do. I wonder why she's doing laundry and buying pants for this Joey instead of dating and doing what other girls her age do on the weekends?

###

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LOVE, LIES AND A DOUBLE SHOT OF DECEPTION

Title of Book: LOVE, LIES AND A DOUBLE SHOT OF DECEPTION
Genre: romantic suspense
Author: Lois Winston
Website: www.loiswinston.com
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing
Date of Release: 5/29/07
ISBN: 978-0-505-52719-6





PURCHASE LOVE, LIES AND A DOUBLE SHOT OF DECEPTION HERE!

SUMMARY:
Life has delivered one sucker punch after another to Emma Wadsworth. As a matter of fact, you could say the poor little rich girl is the ultimate poster child for Money Can’t Buy Happiness — even if she is no longer a child. Billionaire real estate stud Logan Crawford is as famous for his less-than-platinum reputation as he is his business empire. In thirty-eight years he’s never fallen in love, and that’s just fine with him — until he meets Emma. But Emma’s not buying into Logan’s seductive ways. Well, maybe just alittle, but she’s definitely going into the affair with her eyes wide open. She’s no fool. At least not any more. Her deceased husband saw to that. Besides, she knows Logan will catch the first jet out of Philadelphia once he learns her secrets. Except things don’t go exactly as Emma has predicted, and when Philadelphia’s most beloved citizen become the city’s most notorious criminal, she needs to do a lot more than clear her name if she wants to save her budding romance with the billionaire hunk someone is willing to kill for.

EXCERPT

Winter wonderland, my ass.

The stinging wind whipped at Emma’s exposed cheeks and brought tears to her eyes. Lowering her head, she trudged around the enormous mounds of black snow piled along the curb, searching for a semi-safe path onto the sidewalk.

Finding none, she grabbed a parking meter and hauled herself over the smallest of the soot-encrusted icebergs. Some people would go to any lengths for their morning cup of java, and she was one of them.

As she yanked open the door to Chapters and Verse, the “Spring Movement” of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons greeted her. Someone had a really warped sense of humor. Or hoped the power of positive thinking could affect weather patterns. Still, the music held a reminder that the harsh realities of early February in Philadelphia would eventually give way to sunshine and flowers come late March. Maybe. Last year they’d suffered through
one of their worst blizzards ever the first week in April.

Emma shivered, thoughts of daffodils and crocuses quickly replaced by the chill rippling through her damp body. Shaking the moisture from her hair, she deposited her coat on a chair in the café, then headed for the coffee bar.

“Morning,” said the barista. “The usual?”

“Please.”

With her morning shot of caffeine and sugar in hand, Emma trolled the stacks of books, occasionally pulling a volume from the shelves and sliding it under her arm. She needed the predictability of this daily routine. It helped her get through the rest of the day. Every day.

Why the hell do I stay?

If she had any courage, she’d leave. Sell the house. Move away. Start over. But she couldn’t leave, and her reasons had little to do with a lack of courage. Life in Emmaville was just too damn complex. One part guilt, one part masochism. But how could she leave the only tangible reminder she had of life before everything had turned to shit?

So she stayed, losing herself in work that at least gave her the satisfaction of knowing her efforts helped others. She pushed herself each day until exhaustion overcame her and she fell into nightmare-riddled sleep.

Tomorrow morning the cycle would repeat itself. I’m a twenty-first century Sisyphus, eternally damned to live out an unending punishment for my sins. Not that she had a clue as to whatever sin first condemned her years before, but she’d certainly committed a whopper since then. Whether a sin of omission or commission, it hardly mattered. The result was the same.

Still, what would be the harm in a short escape? She deserved that much, didn’t she? Emma closed her eyes and conjured up a distant memory of a sun-kissed Adriatic coastline. Hell, why not? She opened her eyes and headed for the travel section.

* * *
Logan Crawford’s mind kept drifting back to the events of last night, an evening definitely not worth remembering. Even her name escaped him. Although normally not a problem, this time he was saddled with Candi-Randi-Bambi-whatever-the-hell-her-name-was for the length of his
stay in Philadelphia. As head of the city’s redevelopment office, she was his official escort-slash-liaison, the person assigned to make certain he chose the City of Brotherly Love as the East coast site for his corporate headquarters. And last night Candi-Randi-Bambi, a woman who wore her ambition emblazoned across her surgically augmented chest, made it abundantly clear just how far she’d go to get him to sign on the dotted line. And it was far from brotherly. Or sisterly.

Logan doubted he was the first billionaire businessman she’d bedded in her quest up the corporate ladder, but he’d wager a good portion of his sizeable fortune that he was the biggest -- the wunderkind west coast urban developer who was giving The Donald a run for his money. Only Logan had better hair -- as the media was quick to point out.

With a snap of his fingers, he could provide Candi-Randi-Bambi with an express elevator straight through the glass ceiling, and she knew it.

No fucking way in hell.

Last night when he stared down into Candi-Randi-Bambi’s come-hither eyes, he saw the reflection of a disillusioned, unhappy man. And damn, up to that moment he hadn’t even realized he’d been disillusioned or unhappy. He had wealth; he had power. So what was up with the sudden emptiness and dissatisfaction?

Beryl would say it was because he led a shallow life devoid of emotional commitment. As much as he protested to the contrary, he knew she was right. Maybe it was time to leave the bimbos to Trump.

Struck by the epiphany, he’d bolted from Candi-Randi-Bambi’s bed. They’d used each other. She spread her legs hoping to advance her career; he’d taken advantage of the offer. Sex without emotional entanglements, the pattern of his adult life. He got the release he needed, and the woman got a notch on her bedpost. Only this time it hadn’t worked. After thirty-eight years Logan Crawford realized it was time to grow up. Only damn it, he didn’t have a clue how.

Still reeling from the self-revelation, he’d canceled his morning appointments and headed his rental car north, needing some time alone to think. After driving for half an hour he found himself in a quiet, upscale section of Philadelphia. A bookstore on top of a hill beckoned like a
siren.

For the rest of his stay in Philadelphia he vowed to spend his nights curled up with a good thriller rather than a cheap thrill. Now all he had to do was find one. At the moment he couldn’t even find the damn fiction section in the boundless maze of shelves that wound around the first level of the two story megastore. Lost in the travel section, he spun on his heels
and
--
THUD!

###

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THE SEARCH FOR THE MILLION $$$ GHOST by Heide AW Kaminski, Dorothy Thompson, Pamela Lawniczak, and, of course, Henri

Name of Book: The Search for the Million $$$ Ghost

Author(s): Dorothy Thompson, Heide AW Kaminski, Pam Lawniczak and of course, Henri, the Ghostest with the Mostest

Publisher: Mardi Gras Publishing

Date of Release: September 2006 (ebook); April 2007 (paperback)

ISBN: 0978998626

###

Summary:

Eccentric tobacco tycoon Rodger Hawthorne III can have anything his heart desires except his dead wife, Sarah. Feeling responsible for the car crash that killed her thirty years ago, he offers one million dollars to anyone who can find her spirit and bring it to him within one week or the money is forfeited. Six spiritually-challenged—but highly intuitive—women find his ad over the Internet and accept his challenge only to embark on a journey they didn’t quite expect that covers astral traveling, past life regressions and spiritual encounters of the unworldly kind. While this book is lightly based on a true story of a real man who is offering one million dollars to anyone who can prove that spirits exist, this story is purely fictional.

###

Excerpt:

Thank God I'm alive.

Sarah pulled herself from the wreckage. Just moments before, she felt her world coming to an incredible end, finalizing her mortal existence with just one wrong turn. Tossing her long, blonde hair behind her thin, frail shoulders, she looked down at her blood-stained blouse.

My husband will be so disappointed to see me like this.

Both sides of the road were littered with shattered glass and twisted metal. She picked up her step and ambled over to the open field, hoping to catch someone's attention.

Surely someone witnessed the car careening over the edge!

Out of nowhere, men and women gathered around the smoking carcass of steel, watching and whispering. She sensed a connection with them as they peered at her through certain unfamiliar eyes. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and gasped.

Sarah turned around and stared into the face of a kind young woman, identical to the one who frequented her nightly dreams. “I know you, don't I?”

The young woman nodded.

“I've seen you before,” she said.

“Don't be frightened,” said the young woman. “I'm Iro, your spiritual guide. You have many spiritual guides, my love, and I am just one of them.”

The young woman held out her hand and motioned for Sarah to follow her. She's almost floating, she thought as she gazed at the strange young woman who possessed an eerie likeness to someone with whom she had wandered before.

She followed the apparition to the front of the car and pointed to the body of another young girl lying motionless among the twisted metal. She looked down and gasped.

“No!” she cried. “That's not me! It can’t be!”

Iro brushed away the young girl's tears and pointed to a light across from her. A light so bright, it blinded her with its overwhelming beauty and splendor.

“This is the light you may enter now,” she explained. “It is hard for you to understand, but the time has come to leave this earthly plane and enter a new life and a new beginning. This is the ending of this life to which you have become accustomed for the last twenty-two years.”

Sarah looked at the bright beam of light directed at her, pulling her gently. "Yes," she said faintly, tears flowing down her cheeks, “I see it.”

“I know this must be difficult for you, my child,” Iro softly whispered, “but don't worry. You are in good hands now and I will do everything I can to help you. You must not be afraid.”

“But, what about my husband?” Sarah cried. “He will miss me terribly.”

“He will be fine,” said Iro, “for when he needs you, you can go to him.”

“He won't understand!”

“No, he won't understand, but in time he will learn that he needs to go on. More importantly, you need to go on.”

Sarah rose and brushed at her long, white skirt. He gave me this skirt. She fingered the delicate locket trimmed in gold that he gave her on her last birthday. Another present to win my affections when all along it was his love I craved.

Iro walked over to Sarah and held her face in her hands.

“I know what you are thinking, my dear,” she said. “You are saddened. Perhaps it would help if I told you that you have an alternative.”

The bewildered girl looked up into the warm, sea-blue eyes of the woman.

“An alternative?” she asked. “An alternative to what?”

Iro sighed and looked directly into the young girl's eyes. “An alternative to the hereafter.”

Puzzled, Sarah wanted her to go on, yet felt uneasy in her doing so.

“My child,” Iro continued, “there is a world you are not familiar yet, although you have crossed its paths many times and in many lifetimes.”

“The first rule to follow,” she continued, “is to never enter the light until you are ready to do so.”
Iro looked to the heavens and spoke very low, “That is the light of eternity.”

“You are an angel now,” she continued. “Your destiny was mapped out many, many years ago. You have to understand that you have many lives. And in each life, you are to learn important lessons in order to advance into the next realm. In order to do this, you must finish unfinished business on this plane.”

“So you are saying there is more work here to be done?” she asked. “What do I have to do?”

“I cannot tell you that. You have to learn that for yourself.”

Iro crept closer to her and whispered softly, “You will remain on this plane for however long it takes you to complete your soul's journey. When you are done and ready to enter the light, I will come for you.”

“Will you continue to guide me when I complete my soul's journey?”

“My mission is to stay by your side forever. I have been with you since you were created and will continue to light your path with love and guidance in this lifetime and every lifetime that shall follow. It is the path I chose when I crossed over into the light myself many, many years ago.”

“I think I understand now.”

“My love, there's a lot you don't understand. There are many, many lessons to be learned as you go through your life's journey. I have been your mother in your life and you have been mine. I have been in your lives many times. The child which was in your womb was in your past life and shall be in your many lives thereafter.”

“How did you know about my baby?” the young girl asked.

“Please, my child, I am not here to confuse you, only to comfort you. The child you were carrying has become an angel as you have become. That child has been with you all your life, guiding you when you were frightened, comforting you when you were sad and forlorn.”

“I have told you enough for now,” Iro continued. “You will find out this mystery when you find the answers on this plane. This is your soul's journey, my angel.”

“Why can't you tell me now?”

“My dear Sarah, if your existence on the spiritual level is to progress, you must confront each detour and learn to overcome it. Just as in the mortal world where you had to learn lessons, so be it in the spiritual world. You will not attain your highest place in the spiritual realm without learning these things and finding the answers yourself. If you do not learn from them and find the answers, you will remain on this lowly plane and wander the earth forever.

“There is a lot to what I have told you and still more to learn. All will become clear to you after you complete your journey. Immortality is infinite; it has no beginning and no end. We evolve and continue to evolve until we reach the highest level. It is there that you will find eternal peace and happiness.”

The young woman stood and motioned for the girl to come closer.

“Come here, love.”

Sarah rose ever so slowly and walked over to the young woman.

“I love you and am here for you whenever you need me,” she said. “It is not a lonely journey you seek, for I will be with you as I have been before. Now it is time for you to go and fulfill your mission. When it has been completed, I will return for you.”

The young girl smiled, knowingly.

“I will leave you know to fulfill your destiny and when that is done, I will take you to the light to be with your son forever.”

With that, Iro vanished, leaving Sarah to begin her spiritual journey.

###

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