Hello everyone...

She flicked her tongue over her crooked tooth. “First off, I’ve decided what treasure we’re going to share with our readers and you’re not invited. Trace will be here in a minute, and we’re going to take them with us to the North Shore to show off some of the Hawaiian flora and fauna. Nature is a treasure, and so is our love. It’s a win-win deal.” 

“But I’m the author here and—“

“Hi, L. j.” Trace jogged into the room and whipped his sunglasses off. “Did Nia tell you what we have planned?”

Nia stood, grabbed my hand and pulled me off the sofa. “Go away. I’m taking over here. We’re doing treasure today, not visions and killers.”

I left, but peeked around the door. They were wrapped in an enviable hug that was worthy of a romance novel cover. I blushed. “Ahem. Our readers are here.”

They broke apart, both grinning, and Nia pointed at me. “We’re sharing the first treasure with them—our love for each other.”

“Honestly, authors can so domineering and intrusive. So, now that we got rid of her, Trace, what treasures do you want to show our readers?”

“No question. A view of the North Shore and—”

“One at a time, don’t you think?”

I watched, peering from between the blinds as she pressed a kiss on his cheek. And then quickly ducked back when Trace stripped out of his coat and tie and switched his loafers for flip-flops. Nia didn't back away. She licked her lips and grinned, tossing me a wave as they got in their car and drove off. Phew. The energy between them could melt glass on a snowy winter day.

Nia didn’t know this, but being their creator I had the option of doing an invisible tag-along. Heheheh. *Rubbing hands together*

When they arrived at the North Shore, Nia turned to look behind the car. “Oooh, lots of readers are following us.” 

She waves at them. “Come with us for a walk on the beach and we’ll show you another treasure—the big waves. The sand is so warm and heavy. I love it when it squishes between my toes. And do you smell the ocean?”

Trace dragged her into the surf and she squealed as the foamy water brushed her ankles. “Okay, Trace. My turn to choose the next treasure, and I pick Sea Turtles.”

“Umm. It’s nice having our readers along, but you know we can’t bring them on the beach with the turtles.” His voice was crisp with lawyerly warning.

“Of course not. I’ve arranged for them to see through the magical eyes of art…so to speak.” Nia tapped him on the nose. "You know how careful I am with the environment."

Trace nodded and pointed along the shore. "There they are. Awesome creatures."

The ambled along the perimeter walkway, holding hands, absorbed in each other. 

 Nia sighed. “It’s so beautiful here, Trace. I think maybe our wedding…”

He placed his index finger over her lips. “Ssshhh. You never know who’s listening, and one of our readers might tell L. j.”

Nia held up her left hand and a diamond sparkled in the sunlight. “Hard to miss.”

Nia shrugged. “Too late. And I’m thinking some of these orchids and hibiscus for our flowers.” 

                                                                Duets                                                             Christmas Angel

 **Artwork courtesy of Patrice Federspiel at artofaloha.com**

And the next stop on the tour is: 

It happened one summer...

A good friend of mine—I’ll call her Piper since I followed her blindly into the obscure world of the believe-it-or-not—invited me to attend a conference.

We worked together in the corporate world, so when she explained that it was a spiritual retreat and that it would be a week of new and unusual experiences, I took her at her scientific word. And thus began my first "encounter" with weird, sort of exciting, and somewhat scary phenomena. 

We arrived at the almost deserted college campus a day early because Piper was teaching a workshop, her first, and she was concerned that everything be in place before she began to teach.

While Piper and I unloaded the car, a woman in a wheelchair approached us, waving, smiling, and obviously happy to see Piper. Nitya was introduced to me as a gifted visionary and teacher. I only saw a curly head of blond hair and a great deal of energy packed into a tiny body.  She seemed...normal, and since visionary stuff was bogus, I innocently went through the nice-to-meet-you routine. 

Nitya had just begun to practice angelic alignment work and wanted to share this experience with Piper. Immediately.

 I, totally new to metaphysical work, naively accepted their invitation to watch the process of Piper's allignment.  We were able to use an unoccupied sitting area furnished with a sofa and some chairs. Piper took a seat on the sofa, Nitya facing her in the wheelchair.

Not wanting to intrude, I took a chair off to the side, curled up and settled in, eyes wide open, to watch my first metaphysical demonstration. As Nitya began to work, breathing and weaving her arms around Piper in a complex and quite beautiful choreography, my thoughts went awry: This is really strange. What the heck am I doing here? Should I leave? And then the biggie—Would I miss something important if I left?

My assigned dorm room was across campus, in a huge unoccupied building and escape seemed a better option than hanging around these strange people. I tried to slid to the edge of the chair in preparation for a unobtrusive exit, but my body was suddenly too heavy to move.

I told myself that my muscles had turned to lead because my body knew it would be rude for me to just walk out. Truth: the room seemed to be moving and I was too scared to twitch, much less get up and leave, and if I was being held there, paralyzed by the scene in front of me, I seriously didn't want to know it.

This whole demo business had become way more paranormal than I bargained for. 

The room seemed to become lighter and brighter, and I noticed a peculiar pressure building in my head. The cold chill of fear slithered through my body. I couldn't leave. Couldn't even move. Time had been suspended. Well, maybe not suspended, but definitely something funky was going on.

I tried to talk myself through it: You can handle this. It's a little strange, but nothing that unusual. And remember, this is a spiritual conference and things are supposed to be slightly different from the ordinary.

Nitya began to chant. From my scared speechless perspective, this was nothing short of a miracle—to be able to produce musical sounds, seemingly out of the blue, while she waved her hands around and the room turned icy cold. Not. Normal. Nope, we'd done gone and moved into someplace "other."

And I wanted out.

Not that I could move, but still. 

And why did Piper and Nitya seem to be all cozy and comfortable? How come they weren't freezing their butts off ? My mind played with the scientific fact that it was August—in North Carolina—and hot enough to whip up some barbeque on the sidewalk. Too. Weird.

I shut my eyes and pretended I was home with a normal kitchen where I could pour a Diet Coke and read a good romantic mystery. 

The chanting stopped. 

My eyes fluttered open to discover a very large angel hovering around Piper.

Had I fallen asleep? Was this "situation" some kind of surreal dream?

My eyes snapped shut and I took inventory. Breathing? Check. Shivering? Check. Sane? Nope. I'd lost it. 

I sucked in a breath and opened my eyes. Sure enough there was an angel—ghostly pale energy, human body shape (more or less), glistening, vibrating, flowing, peaceful, bright—everything human art depicts except for the wings. No wings. More like energetic arms that seemed to surround Piper.  And no halo. How could it be an angel without a halo?

Whew. Had me fooled there for a minute. I did not see angels. Angels belonged in heaven, safely tucked away where God could keep an eye on them.

As a kid I thought it would be cool to see my Guardian Angel. Say hi, whatever. But I wasn't a kid anymore and this was what? My imagination in overdrive? 

I explained it to myself: You're stressed from work and haven't been getting enough sleep. This is just a minor breakdown that'll be over as soon as they're done playing with...uh...whatever it is they're doing. Then you can laugh about how you imagined seeing angels and chalk it up to your newly developed metaphysical imagination. 

Ha.

They did finish. And I could move, but not with a whole lot of umph in my step.

Oddly enough, our after-party conversation wasn't focused on teasing me about my imagined “sight.”  It was a profound and genuine sharing of their experiences in this work of the angels.

Three things passed through my mind, none of them comfortable. I had to sleep, by myself, in that empty building across campus. I was scheduled for a private session with Nitya in two days. My life would never be normal (Sanity is overrated, right?) again.

What sort of paranormal experiences have you had? How did they change your life?

Please let me know what you think about this. Would love some feedback before I make another one!

Lucie j.

Not everyone can stay sane watching murder through the eyes of the killer, feeling him kill. She’s Haitian, born from love, raised with strength. She can stop the visions if she stops the killer,  but his secrets threaten to destroy her world. Which one will survive?

 The Psychic: Nia  Sydney De’brie

For the past three years, on the day of the last snowstorm of spring, Nia has watched him kill—through his eyes. This year she runs from the storm and the visions to the sun and surf of Honolulu—and blunders into the scene of murder #4.

 The Hottie: Trace Coburn

Defense attorney for the killer.

 The Crime:  Murder 

Germain Thomas Marcellin,, Vodoun practitioner, has been helping young women find harmony in their lives by leaving their corporeal bodies behind.  

Happy Reading!

Lucie j.

Why I Wrote LIFETHREAD

 I like teens. Spending time with them, listening to their discussions, and watching the twists and turns of how they explore life is fun. And anything paranormal and mystical fascinates me. Oh, and romance. Love is what makes us human.  And I’m a writer. So, a Young Adult, paranormal romance? What could be better?

 Choosing a mythological background for my characters slipped into place when I was loitering in the Young Adult section of the local bookstore. Although the Fates have long been a part of human existence, as I read back cover blurbs and flipped through pages, I found nothing that involved their mythology. In that moment, the background for LIFETHREAD was born.

The Fates provided the perfect setting for my young adult heroines to question and challenge established beliefs. The power and depth of ancient legend created a strong and multi-layered tapestry in which to weave the threads of my story, and the Fates’ responsibilities—creating life, determining destiny, and ending life—represent human transitions perfectly. The weight of their responsibilities also provided my characters with excellent opportunities to break the rules. Teenagers vs. the ancient and established tradition of the Fates. It worked for me. My heroines, McKenna, Shea, and Merritt, continually surprise me with their ingenuity and humor as the pages of their stories unfold.

 I’m a complete pantser, so when I started writing I only knew my character’s names, which Fate they were apprenticed to, and that McKenna demanded I write her story first. Understandable since she’s responsible to Atropos and severs the lifethreads of demons. I wasn’t about to argue with her blade. McKenna’s story flowed from my imagination to the keyboard almost effortlessly. We had such fun getting her into, and out of, trouble that I barely realized it was work…until I started on the second draft. That’s when the complexity of her personality started to shine, and make me sweat. One of my more stubborn characters, McKenna.

 Not to be outdone, Shea and Merritt have demanded their own stories. Currently, Shea and I are writing Lifethread: CREATION, and are discovering that of the three priestesses, she’s not really “the good one” after all. Merritt has been tapping her foot in the background of my mind, impatiently waiting for Shea to get out of way so that I can begin the more important task of writing about her in Lifethread: DESTINY. 

 Guess I better get back to it!

 What makes you select one book over another when you’re wandering the aisles of your favorite bookstore, or cruising the selections of ebooks at Amazon and Barnes & Noble looking for the perfect read?

Lucie j.