His hands crushed mine, not tenderly, but tender in love and fiercely. The honey brown orbs that were his eyes, pierced mine as he grabbed hold of me, already feeling me slip away.
I never seen my boyfriend cry before. But I am now. It hurts like no other pain.
Everything was growing blurry…two of him, twin tearing men. His white shirt, rumpled with a few paling brown coffee stains splattered on the front, probably from rushing into to see me in my final hour.
“NANINNNNNE! Don’t you dare leave ME!” He growled, his hands no longer felt tight on mine. Was I slipping from this world to the next so soon?
I said something, I think. My lips moved, a tear raced down my cheek as my truly handsome boyfriend stared in terror.
Did not matter how often we prepped for this moment.
All the prayers and all the research of my breast cancer. Late stage, lead us here. I guess, the Final Act cuts deep.
My grip suddenly felt ghost to me. Foreign. My hold loosened on it own as Eric leaned closer to me. My family were all crowded around me, their hands touching my legs, my stomach. Praying. Weeping.
A door slammed in the distance. Another reaction to my dying.
Adin’s warm breath reached my eyelids. My heart began a lub….DUB….lub…..so achingly slow. My lungs couldn’t catch up to any natural rhythm either. The pain meds wore off long ago.
“Nanine.” He slides his hand up the side of my arm. “Don’t. You. Leave. Me. I will chase you across worlds. Remember? I will-” My poor man choked up. I gather strength enough to look into his eyes.
What I saw shocked me.
Shocked me enough to make my heart hit a few beeps.
His eyes, pupils dilated, were deep pools of black. His full lips leaned down over me and my gaze stuck to his as his hot lips landed on mine sensuously in front of everyone.
Only Adin can make me feel this way. Even with my bald head, body nothing but bones from the chemo that ravaged my body, he made me feel sexy. Alive. Always have.
His hot gaze, fierce, determined, supremely angry, swallowed me whole. I believed for a full minute that he literally could chase my soaring soul to wherever.
Our connection have always been so strong.
After the kiss, he only moved an inch from my face and ran his hand down my cheek. “I will find you.”
Suddenly, I couldn’t chase air. My heart’s rhythm, a normal drum in my chest, ceased it’s beat.
I can’t! I can’t breathe! My heart won’t tick!
The room, Adin, my family their echoes of pain sounded so far away. I mentally clawed for life. Clawed for it.
Adin’s face of anguish, his honey eyes were the last things I saw before complete darkness overtook me.
My lips were kissing something wet and very cool. Smooth.
My eyes were drawn so tight, they felt like lead at this point and I was afraid to open them. My memory slipped from me. Where am I ?
I risked opening my eyes slowly, shocked at the clarity without my glasses. In clear, HD panoramic view, there were lush trees and bushes everywhere, birds chirping.
Some cherry blossoms, floated by me and landed near my face. My face was hovering above clear, beautiful liquid, too amazing to just call water.
My body felt so…clean and lightweight.
Staring at my reflection, I was shocked my skin seemed to glow whereas it was usually pale. It had a hint of gold to it, but the ripples in the water from my movement caused my shimmery glow to vanish.
I finally pushed myself up and on the bank, startling a small squirrel prancing around, chasing its own tail.
The squirrel seemed more orange than brown.
Where am I?
A deeply male, familiar voice made my heart race. I look down at my slightly sun kissed skin and was terrified at how I could see through hands, as though through a veil.
The male approached me.
He was as naked as I am. Shimmering like me. Barely solid, barely ghost.
Oddly familiar too.
His eyes were large, his body designed and perfected in some lab probably and his lips had to be fashioned in supreme love by God himself. I felt nervous, giddy, confused.
He approached me but kept a safe enough distance. “Welcome home, Nanine.”
He reached out to me with his hand. Feeling lost and so utterly confused, even with all the beauty surrounding me, I take his large hand.
“I told you I would chase you from one world to the next.”
Familiar words. Familiar face and lips. Those eyes.
Why did they look so familiar?
Why do I feel…connected to him somehow?
Stay tuned this week for the short conclusion to this love story!
Please comment. Like. Subscribe and share if you like this post!
Soon, the character of an intriguing angel named Margaret began to shape in the eyes of my heart. I would write a fictional story about her.”(Come to the Garden, pg. xiii)
In the Acknowledgements section, Jennifer even states: “I had a dream and wasn’t going to settle for a personal journal.”
So in essence, what we are reading is an allegory. Which in itself isn’t a bad thing.
Jennifer’s guardian angel explores her dreams. These dreams Jennifer has are about loved ones passing or being ill, and some dreams bring about hope, such hope that even you as the reader will stop and praise God for her vision, and then other dreams are wholly prophetic.
And her gentle, beautiful guide is right there explaining the metaphors and symbols(pay attention to these!)
I felt invited while reading. I felt that even my own dreams and fears were finally explained just by reading this book.
At the final page, I took a breath, read some of the Scriptures offered in the back and reflected on what I’ve read.
Perhaps Jennifer’s own events inspired her to create the angel Margaret. Now, whether this is real or if angels are guardians versus messengers is set for another discussion elsewhere. All I know is that I am now inspired.
*This book was received for free from Howard Books through Jennifer’s publicist.
Come to the Garden, Jennifer Wilder Morgan
Published by Howard Books(2016)
*Also available in audio. Want it free? Please visit my Come to the Garden free audible giveaway which ends May 16,2016 so you can share the experience! Also narrated by Kathie Lee Gifford, the Today show host.
I fell asleep one night and never woke up. Anyone can attest to what happens when you are poisoned(anyone who is dead), but I digress. I fell into a deep one and woke up encased in a wooden gazebo with glass all around-no one in or out. I saw people, animals, trees and could smell them!
But I could not touch the living.
A small boy ran up to gazebo wearing a red jumper and had a part down the middle of his dark hair, light in his eyes and rainbows striking his translucent skin. He could have been at least six or seven.
He waves his hand at me.
I wave back.
I’m dead. but is he too? How can his skin be so translucent and pretty?
I looked all round, everyone else looked just like him. There was no distinction of race here: everyone was nearly see through. They jumped and morphed into balls of bubbles, then would bounce off trees and land on the sea.
Bubbles. People were like bubbles.
And the young boy with dark hair stared t me: “Am I really dead?” I asked him. I pantomimed death by grabbing my throat and making hacking sounds and then careened to the ground in an elegant theatrical fashion.
His eyes widened as he smiled, showing rows of white teeth.
He clapped hard. “We are all here!”
Did he say what I thought he said?
Then he said something else, and I saw his body stretch. Arms became longer and his skin complexion changed coloring. He was as brown as new mud and his hair was as long as mine.
“I am right dead as you!”
“I am right dead as you!” He repeated, pointing at me. More an more he began to look familiar..he resembled-
“A doppelganger? Me?”
I needn’t ask more because he was like me now. Somehow, in this world, people can be who they wish and I just witnessed a boy transforming into…me.
Several years later and many lost memories to boot, I found myself reincarnated. Not in the sense of what the Hindus believe but my mind has been reborn elsewhere and I tried capturing my experience on a piece of scroll paper.
Lost it along the way on my way back to Earth.
And yet I have seen that the new humans’ do have look-a-likes. Called twins.
But I am cautious when I hear a human, that may have stolen my words say, “I’m looking right dead at you!”
Truth be told, you could be dead, looking at a bubble person pretending to be you.
*Okay so this is my drafted attempt at explaining where we get the phrase, “I’m looking right dead at you”. The narrator states they wrote their story and it fell into the hands of modern society. I think the reason is far more profound than that, but blessings!
In “The Thirteenth Sacrifice” Samantha Ryan’s past haunts her-which manifests itself in her dreams complete with screams, blood, and cutting rituals and now it is affecting her job and those she care about.
Samantha Ryan is a witch. From one of the most powerful coven. However, she is now a Christian and Boston cop by choice and refuses to use her powers for any reason.
Until people start showing up dead on college campuses and everywhere else.
Now, I am not really into Witchy books but after reading the “Crusade Series” by Debbie Viguie and Nancy Holder, I thought I’d try this one out. Also, Viguie’s Kiss Trilogy is good. The Thirteenth Sacrifice was fascinating with added suspense and the unexpected twist in the end. A couple of things made the book a page turner:
Samantha Ryan is not a comfortable character, meaning she is like you and I but she is a witch and when she is asked to go undercover; she uses her spells and magic to try to capture the killer. She employs old sets of skills, rehash old nightmares to seek clues and do even more diabolical things I will not even mention here.
Eventually she meets Anthony who owns an Occult museum and he is handsome has intense green eyes…and hates witches with a passion. Samantha finds herself in a complex situation given that he hates witches and they begin liking one another. Samantha’s partner, Ed is a comfortable character and is married. However he handles Samantha’s secret will determine if he is a partner worth having.
Since reading action filled books like Crusade, Halflings, and other novels, I find that scenes with people using powers requires imagination and maybe some science. I was thoroughly interested in how Samantha would get herself out of sticky situations. Is she stronger than the High Priestess? Is there more power she can tap into?
Was there more I wanted to see from The thirteenth Sacrifice?
I wanted more than just a sprinkle of romance. It is quite there and a few pages do sizzle with possibilities but at least the book held my interest and I am definitely going to read Book 2: The Last Grave.
*To You: Are you more into action, romance or the perfect balance? Why? 🙂
As ‘Ring of Stone'(Book 2 to Mark of Fortune) is being prepared, I thought I’d share a few pics of the place where Stone of the Ice Rings is from. He was born on the “outskirts of Saturn” which can mean the ice rocks on the ring belt on some other place during that ancient time. Either way its beautiful- enjoy!