Monday, 16 November 2015

A Cringeworthy Decision

A Cringeworthy Decision


Every writer starts somewhere. When the experienced writers look back at their first books, it is sometimes with regret that they could have written a better book, not a better story, just better in their word building and less annoying in the little mistakes first time authors make.

I initially felt the same way about my books when recently adjusting them for e-readers, but came to the conclusion, as I am aware many other authors had, that the first books are perfect the way they are.

Your audience has the chance to grow with you. This might not be appreciated by everyone, but after querying most of my 'salted' fans, I was convinced not to adjust the books at all.

The opinion of the editor and beta-readers were that "you notice a marked difference in pace and writing style as the books mature with the development and growth of the main character. The first few parts are written in innocence and naivety, but without these, the story will not be understood as clearly as we do now."

I rest my case, staying my itching hand not to re-edit the first few parts!


For free PDF parts and excerpts visit www.chroniclesofhan.com

Saturday, 24 October 2015

Saving Leilaka Exclusive Intro Preview

Saving Leilaka Exclusive Intro Preview


 Excerpt from Saving Leilaka, proposed release date December 2015:

  Superheated air blasted through the chamber, disintegrating Kaleb's crib, stripping skin and flesh from my bones before the ashes were swept along on its devastating destructive path.
   I must have screamed, for the baby wailed from his crib, Merrykara bending over him to soothe him into silence.
   A dragon, mad with battle rage, could be heard up upon the mountainside.
   Habieb stormed into my private chamber without announcing himself.
   Merrykara had our son in her arms. I could not face them, giving my attention to an anxious Habieb.
   "He dreamt again" Merrykara answered the unspoken question. "He will not tell you either" she sneered, turning away from us, settling upon the rocking chair that faced the window.
   "You must calm your Huracan!" Habieb distracted me. "She will come in here and destroy your home if you do not respond to her."
   He was right. We knew how destructive Dragons can become.
   It was extremely hard for me to calm myself enough to open the conscious telepathic connection to Moira.
   In the end, she succeeded to burst through the unseen shield that had been blocking our link.
   **Are you alright?! I cannot find any physical danger to you. Show me the threat and I will destroy it for you!** she raved.
   **We both need to calm down, Moira** I soothed. **It is not a danger you or anyone else can do anything about. I need to follow this vision, see where it comes from. We are not going to have any rest until it comes to pass, and then it will be very much too late.**
   "Will she stay?" Habieb wanted to know.
   "Yes. She will stay" I replied . . .

Ω

Copyright © H Gibson Chronicles of Han Storm. All rights reserved. 2009-2015 Purchase ebook or book via PayPal

Friday, 11 September 2015

Sunday, 6 September 2015

Ups and Downs of Locally held events


Ups and Downs of Locally held events


Some days are satisfying and some days just feel like wasted effort.

Book signings, public appearances and local markets are only as successful as the public who visit and support these venues.

Some market days are well attended, making the market a huge success, even if the visitors did not purchase a single item, just walked around, had a look and said hallo to the vendors who have poured weeks of hard work into the event.

The same amount of effort, care and meticulous preparation goes into a successful market day, as a day on which not a single visitor walks past your stand or stall. The vendors are still committed, sunshine or rain, to produce the best items to have available on the day.

Unfortunately, local producers become downhearted when the market or event had been advertised extensively but shows a low turnout of visitors. This trend leads to the demise of local events, which in turn leads to the termination of fair and open trade where local producers are forced to work through agents and third parties resulting in the price of their goods going up and becoming out of reach of the general public.

There are jewels to be found locally, so please support local events, even to just take ten minutes and visit an event. If our local artists, producers and crafters are not supported, we lose these wonderful people and eventually all local community events.


At the end of the day, these small markets and events are set up for you, the locals, to have first pick of great products not usually found anywhere else.


Sunday, 14 June 2015

With love, from the Tooth Fairy


To the Tooth Fairy: A note from a distressed little girl - 
"I am so sorry my mom threw my tooth away and gave me a twenty 'R' note. I hope you get this or if you do not, then you ar not real nd my childhood shatterd.
From J
"I hope"
To the tooth fairy"


What will you do when this happens?

At least I have contacts in very high places and received the following reply (yes, did you not know The Tooth Fairy now has email and other modern technology):

From: Representative of The Tooth Fairy <thetoothfairy@email address>
To: H Gibson <email address>
Sent: Sunday, June 14, 2015 2:00 PM
Subject: Fairies exist

Please forward to J.

Dear J

We have been made aware of your note.

Please do realize that, although we do not show ourselves, our realm is very real and Fae Folk do exist. Some in our dimension and some disguised as normal people.

Your mother is one such a person. She is a combination of many things, including Fae, therefore do not just believe in us, but actually sees us and communicates with us.

Due to unrest in countries on Earth, as well as the poor quality of teeth, we had to scale down on our open operations, relying on believing parents to provide us with the substance that ultimately gives us sustenance.

Yes, contrary to the general belief system, we actually feed off the calcium in teeth. Human teeth used to be the best source of calcium but had degraded through the use of chemicals such as fluoride which is a harmful substance to us, stripping us of our powers and energy.

In the countries where it is tradition to make an offering ceremony with teeth, we allow the parents to provide the negotiated amount to the child. We do still collect all teeth, including 'lost' or 'thrown out' teeth and have specialized units who's sole task it is to collect these lost teeth.

Please do not be angry with your mother. She has her own worries and cannot get around to everything. As she is a special person we were made aware of your specific tooth (which was duly collected - from the dustbin!)

In future, we have given her permission to directly collect the tooth for us and keep it in safeguarding until we can send someone to collect it.

When you are an adult with your own children. You can either keep the teeth in safeguard (sort of like a storage bank) or throw them out. They will be collected and incorporated into our dimension. It is up to you what you wish your child to believe.

There is no need to teach them about us. Many people do not believe. It does not make us any more real than vampires or werewolves. Stories always start somewhere, in an experience of something. Stories become legends and legends turn into stories until no-one can remember what is the actual truth. And this is alright.

I hope you will still believe in us and that there is magic in this world, even if it does not look like it. Enjoy the bit of childhood you still have left. It is tough being a grownup.

We watch over you, as your guardian does, as your special mother does. Never feel alone. We are around, for you are one of us too. A kinsman, a child of a fairy-person.

All our love

Sianella
Your local Tooth Fairy Representative
RSA Western Cape


Result - a happy little girl!


Copyright © H Gibson 2015 Chronicles of Han Storm www.chroniclesofhan.com


Wednesday, 27 May 2015

Preserving Creata - Chronicles of Han Storm - Book 1 now available in ePUB


Preserving Creata - Chronicles of Han Storm - Book 1 now available in ePUB


Buy The Chronicles of Han Storm, Creata Adventure in ePUB directly from the author or from Megabooks.

Adventure Science Fiction Fantasy books enhanced with Metaphysical undertones, a dash of Romance and a sprinkle of Horror!


“Creata used to be my home planet. Having reached her limit of 9 billion people, our Planetary Government was looking for ways of sustaining such huge numbers. A reluctant pioneer, they turned me into a tool to be used for their ultimate goal of leaving their planet. I am Han and these are my stories . . . ” – Han Storm



Monday, 13 April 2015

Saving Leilaka - New Book Cover Reveal



Fans want to know: "Where is the new book?"

Saving Leilaka is on its way, almost done . . . here is the proposed book cover reveal. Any comments?

For more info visit www.chroniclesofhan.com

Friday, 6 March 2015

Counter Intelligence



Counter Intelligence
Han had a peek at his Government file
Excerpt from Chronicles of Han Storm - Preserving Creata

* * *
My Government file was suddenly a lot thicker than before.
Once again, I brought the 'pages' into focus in front of me, duplicating the memory from Captain Heraldt.

Name:  Han Storm
Mother:  Anne Storm
Father: Unknown (Note: the mother claims there was no father – claim pending further investigation) UNDER INVESTIGATION: 308 Heights Building, Market Square, New Haven, found to be rented out in the name of Mr HLH Storm. Landlord insisted that this was the father of subject and the original rental contract was signed twelve years ago, coinciding with subject being “lost”.

I had to smile at their confusion. It was so easy to hypnotize the simpleton of a Landlord to believe that 'my father' signed the lease and paid for it every month. He never actually saw anyone representing my 'dad'. I just played along with pretending that I had an adult around to look after me.
It was easy times. If you can see the possibilities of the future, you can live off gambling very successfully. I never lacked for anything after leaving the government foster system. And by walking the middle path of invisibility, I was very successful at putting myself through school without creating suspicion.

The long list under the heading of Current Status, incorporating the list of foster families was suddenly very full with entries dated the last few weeks.
It seemed as if the Government was desperately trying to profile me. I felt satisfied that I was creating confusion amongst them. 
Most of the new entries next to the foster families of my early years simply stated that the people had no recollection of this child ever being with them.
The new entry at the foster family that sent me to see the Psychic, Professor Zane (at age six) read as follows: 
Child started having repeated nightmares. He used to wake all confused and anxious in the mornings. He did not want to talk to us about it, but started projecting strange illusions that we could actually see.
We realized he must be psychic by nature and requested an appointment with Professor Zane. After three weeks of attendance, the Professor advised us to rather bring him back when he was a bit older and more ‘stable’.
The child became increasingly introverted after that. He was un-cooperative in all aspects and as we could not give him individual attention, asked for his placement to another family that had the time to deal with him.

The next few new entries simply stated that I was an introverted child that did what he was told but never took initiative to do anything more than he was asked to do. They almost did not remember me. I was just a 'quiet one' to them.

The entry where they 'lost' me had extra notes:
Agent in attendance of file at this stage stated that the foster family in question contacted her with the disturbing news that the child did not return from school. He was already missing for almost a week. The authorities made a note of the case, but never came back to the agent. She also did not follow up, having retired that same week. The file should have been followed up by the next agent. As yet, no responsibility has been taken for this file. It was never passed on to anyone else and was eventually found filed in the archives.

I felt positive that the Universe had something to do with that missing file.

They had also found the school I had attended. The entry was short and to the point:
No recollection from teachers regarding student. As stated by almost every teacher interviewed ‘He must have been just one of the crowd’
Followed up on grades. Average scores on all subjects. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Being invisible does pay off, sometimes.

The next entry was about the Security Forces Academy:
Subject said to have bright demeanour, gave a good effort in everything and was a pleasure to work with. Not the most outstanding cadet they ever had, but one that would turn out to be a solid Force person.

I did Tucker proud. My substitute dad knew this when he took me on as a Rookie.

There was a new entry under STATUS too:
Current status: Subject current occupation: Special Psychic Team for the Planetary Security Forces. Under direct control of Director C. Thornton.
Under special surveillance by agent, Cpt. J. Heraldt, special ops unit. (Current mission: Pilot of Planetary Security Forces, transporting subject to required missions.) Cpt Heraldt to report position of subject at all times.

Again I 'turned' the page as the Captain did in the memory and faced the page on what the Government had to say about me. I scanned through the first entries again. It really made interesting reading (or memory in this regard.)
Psychic abilities untested. All information unconfirmed. Specialty seems to be visions of events in the past, present and future. Also displaying signs of telepathic skills. Worked missing persons. Success rate: 99.9%.
Recommendations: Keep in semi-private environment with Level 1 Security Status. Monitor closely with daily reports on events and performance. Case referred to 24 hour monitoring service. Satellite Tracking Implant advised.
           
      There was a new note following this:
No implant to date. Conference with Private investors led to the understanding that they would not co-operate if their investment was to be harmed in any way, including through a tracking device. It was not considered ‘humane’. Negotiations brought about contract that subject’s position would be confirmed at all times. Contract being adhered to. Risk of termination of subject was brought to light when pressure on private investors was suggested.

      There was another inscription, by hand:
EMP detonated at Planetary Security Forces Head Quarters. Said to be by accident. Recordings indicate Subject in severe discomfort right before incident. Informant confirmed subject’s immediate removal right after incident. Subject said to be in ‘bad’ shape.
All recording equipment was terminated. All tracking nano-bites were de-activated. Director Thornton re-instated previous company for security equipment, blaming Government issued equipment for malfunction and subsequent detonation of EMP. Lawsuit PSF vs Government regarding damages pending.

Good for you, Director. Make them sweat a bit.

The newest entries indicated that the information allowed to 'leak out' was gobbled up by the Government as truth. The Director did a stunning job at making me appear only slightly better than anyone else. He was keeping my real talents well hidden.
First Mission: Atlantica: Missing Persons.
Used heightened psychic skills to locate missing persons. Only four girls were found. The fifth turned out to be involved with a young man and did not want to return to her family. No foul play was involved.

Second Mission: Batista: Mummies found in Cavern at dig.
Mummies found by subject to be ancient remains at a holy site. Subject had definite, confirmed past visions brought on by touch, as with New Haven Security Forces work. Successful negotiations were initiated that Holy Site was to be given back to the Desert People and not to be disturbed. New caverns also opened with visions leading to successful negotiations regarding the re-distribution of Batista wealth towards the Desert People.

After this, there was a disturbing inscription. This one was in a handwriting I recognized from somewhere.
Subject arrived at aircraft in unconscious state. Flown in this state from Prosia to next mission in Darkhust. Subject seemed in unstable physical condition, needing constant attention from Doctor and Handler.

There was a new section under the heading Speciality Development:
Speciality Development:
Locating people through psychic abilities seems to be the main speciality.
Confirmed past-visions when in contact with items.
Possible future-visions under investigation.
Extremely powerful energy-healing confirmed. Mr Thornton, father of Director Thornton (PSF) confirmed 100% recovery from life-threatening Emphysema.

There was a loose page placed in a Government Courier envelope. It was dated for today and read as follows:
General Notes:
Subject seems highly stressed, possible breakdown suspected. Seven-day leave requested and granted. New location to be Kwailu Isles. 

I suddenly put two and two together. This was Heraldt’s handwriting. He wrote this, but allowed me to see it!
What was his game?
At these times I really wished for Sensaii. One thing was certain. Not much was secret any longer. At least our real mission was not known.

But there was more information that came before my inner eye.

Captain Heraldt was a very privileged government agent with an extremely high clearance level. He had unrestricted access to my government files and the information they contained.
He was a valuable source of counter-espionage regarding myself. He took it upon himself to help me.
I could not follow the memory imprint. It closed off abruptly, as if this was not supposed to have downloaded to me.
I actually received the impression of an Oops! and then nothing more . . .

I opened my eyes to stare into a sandwich.
Panam was busy feeding everyone again and I took one gratefully.
We should be landing in Kwailu by early afternoon. I tried to keep my mind blank the rest of the way.

Ω

Copyright © H Gibson Chronicles of Han Storm. All rights reserved. 2009-2015 Purchase ebook or book via PayPal



Wednesday, 4 March 2015

The Phoenix Rising.....!

Picture credits: KLab Global Pte. Ltd

A special message from a friend regarding my 11th Life Anniversary tomorrow.
This is too sweet not to share.
With permission from Bhakta-Anjana:



The Phoenix Rising.....!

.............ahhhhhh, finally...............!
Monkey finally settles down in her comfy pozzy up in the Tree of Life! 
Having dispensed with all the mundane domestic chores, she now rests and allows her thoughts to fly!  And are they flying all over the place...................................!! 
Gotta catch 'em, one by one....and herd them all into some sort of sensible thought-pattern.......!

Oh, good morning, Beloved!
Can you take a moment's time-out, and relax a little?  
After this extreme heat, the 'coolth' settles over us like a soft blanket! Aahh, waddah relief! I even feel a few drops of rain....and is that thunder I hear?  Nature's blessings!

You know, my Dearest One, these past few days had my thoughts going all over the place! 
The fires, the wind, the destruction of huge tracts of land, the deaths of many creatures, properties burnt down, people traumatized....  

....the beautiful Cape....what izzzz happening...why is it happening....????? 

Monkey's thoughts travel all over the convoluted mind! She needs putting it all down into something concrete and understandable....
....and then, two things happened....
1)  a casual remark made by an ecologist this morning, when asked about the consequences these destructive fires have on the ecology. Her answer was,   
"See this as the Rising of the Phoenix"....
2)  I suddenly realized what tomorrow's date is, and a soft    
Hannnn     nuuuuu    mannnnnn   wafted though my mind.....
....and then something clicked into place....

Now, monkey's big challenge is putting all of this into place so that you'll understand what exactly I am trying to say.......
.....big sigh!!.......all right, here goes.........

Monkey sees a link between the two!!  

The fynbos is burnt, and a few days later a miracle happens....the Flame Lily blooms.  She only does this after a fire.  The Flame-Lily-Phoenix Rises.

The Hanuman cry? 
11 years ago, on the 5th of March, another Phoenix rose. 
This magnificent Phoenix arose when the body of an entity, through which the Great Hanuman speaks and acts, was burnt beyond recognition! 
Han, the Earth-Human, faced her greatest challenge, but she lives to tell the tale....
....and what a tale it is!!  Her stories are alive with Universal Truths, and her books change many lives....giving rise to monumental Phoenix-Enlightenment...

So what am I trying to link here? 
Has the Mighty Phoenix risen out of these fires? A Healing Phoenix, a Phoenix which fires through the minds of men and is changing their mind-sets? 
Monkey has no idea, but something truly significant is happening, no matter how it all looks at surface level...magic is happening, she feels it in her old bones...! 

Sweet One, in my convoluted way, I wish to honour and give thanks to the beautiful Han for her courage....for on the 5th March we witnessed her resurrection, her re-birth, her Phoenix Rising.  This was 11 years ago = 11 being Hanuman's sacred number...

I love you....as does Liger...and we both wish you a wonderful day! We think of you....and thank you for your magnificence! 

Bhakta-Anjana! 
Tree-of-Life




Friday, 20 February 2015

What happens on Encha stays on Encha. But did it?


What happens on Encha stays on Encha.
But did it?

Excerpt: Chronicles of Han Storm: Taming Encha, Book 3:
      Frank ordered his men to stand their ground, but the thing with the grey-blue scales and lizard-like features was already strangling the life from my beloved.
      Before I could discern what I was doing, fury overtook me and my body was engulfed within blue flames as I gathered the Source Energy within sight of all who surrounded me, accumulating it into a huge, twirling ball in front of me.
      My gaze fell upon Ariel.
      Her eyes were glazing over, life draining from her as the monster stole her life-force.
      *Do it!* she screamed hysterically into my mind, the agony of her demise ripping through my own body, as if a Grox had hold of her. Yet I knew this was no Grox.
      I slammed the ball of energy into them, allowing it to disintegrate flesh and spirit into a miniature nuclear eruption without any adverse effects to those surrounding it.
      The physical was evaporated. The spiritual had been shattered back into pure energy, returning to become part of the Creator once more.
      A miniature crater of scorched earth was all that remained.
      Lowering my quivering arms, I closed my eyes not to physically behold the destruction that had been created within the super nova of energy particles.
      I realized all too painfully that Ariel was gone with the Rogue Lord, extinguished from existence by a single blast of Pure Source Energy.
      My body sagged to its knees . . .

      I stood apart from it, watching it emotionally falling apart as gun-shots rang out and the other cannibals were executed mercilessly on the spot.
      My features contained no emotion whatsoever.
      Panam gently pushed my body over into a reclining position, asking it questions it was not responding to.
      Alis tried to revive it, but it slipped into a comatose state.      
      "*Come, Han*" Duek gently herded my spirit to a light portal that was on hand to transport me to the waiting Reclamation Hall in the Higher Worlds of Encha.
      Duek released me into the care of my Light Guardian. He would stay with my body, hiding it from the other Lizards, the Rogues that will hopefully now become active because of one of their own being slain. 

      I lay myself down on a bed provided within a new hospital wing Hulo had insisted be created within the Higher Worlds of Encha.
      Lord Grox was not on hand for the reclamation as was promised and I felt deceived.
      Sorrow, numbness, anaesthesia surrounded my spirit, as if it was saturated with events and could not soak up even one more emotion.
      Becoming aware of a huge Light Being at my feet, I knew I recognised this entity from somewhere.
      It presented itself in the outline of a Light Angel. It did not talk, or use telepathy, yet I understood it.
      It needed me to go with it before the reclamation started. All those involved were not yet present. They had been sent for but as I am aware of, it was tricky travelling through the Universal Communication Systems if one was not authorised.
      My Guardian pulled me up from the bed, surrounding me in its warm comfort, guiding me along passages that had not seen use in a very long time.
      We came to an ancient looking section, where doors were still solidly built and had padlocks for locks.
      In my numbed state, I did not become aware of any other entities hovering around and presumed that this area was totally abandoned.
      It looked very well preserved though.
      My Guardian stopped in front of one of these solid ancient doors. It was unlocked and the energy key had been left within the padlock. I knew that these locks could only be opened by the Key bearer and that there was only a single key to every door. If the key should go missing, no-one, not even the owner would ever be able to enter that locked room.
      Pushing the door open, my Guardian entered with me still enfolded in its embrace.
      A trunk, representing an energetic vault, stood in the middle of this room.
      - Here you are to place that which you do not wish to retain - my Light Guardian informed me.
      *Must I place the actual memories in there, or only the emotional turmoil?* I wanted to know from it.
      - Whichever you do not wish to retain -
      It released me in front of the trunk. I watched as it opened the heavy looking lid before taking a position behind the trunk, waiting for me to do whatever I wished.
      *Is this part of the reclamation?* I wanted to know. 
      - No, it is for you, a gift from The Creator -
      *Would I be able to reclaim at a later stage that which I put in here?*
      - Of course. Whatever you place in here will automatically dissolve from the original recordings. Not even your Cosmic Recording will contain any of this which is held captive within this mausoleum. When you are ready to become all of yourself again, you will be guided back here, to reclaim that which is rightfully yours. And your Cosmic Recordings will become fully restored -
      Logic returned to my numbed spirit for a few seconds.
      *Why was Ariel so different, so absolutely special?* I asked my Guardian that seemed to know a lot more about things than it had ever revealed to me. Now that I could communicate with it, I was taking this one chance I currently had.
      - She was your Soul Mate, created to perfectly balance your opposing nature, rendering harmony within your soul -
      *And I had destroyed her. Made her one with The Creator again.*
      - Sometimes you have to sacrifice a part of yourself to render great service to The Creator-
      *I do not wish to retain these memories, these feelings within my being. It will surely torture me, driving me insane with regret and heartache and self blame. With what could have been.
      I will forever go over the events of today, trying to see if there could have been a different way of doing it. A different way of destroying that Thing, without harming her.*
      - We are acutely aware of this. That is why The Creator has given us this opportunity. What happened on Encha, should stay on Encha -
      *Until I have the courage to face it again.*
      - Until then -

- End of Excerpt -

Exclusive WIP Excerpt: Chronicles of Han Storm: Last Book
(Journeys of a Psychic: The Emotional Impact of writing about Past Lives)
23 April 2011 Saturday 12h31pm
      Yesterday, Friday 22nd. Easter Friday. Holiday. Did almost nothing. Not feeling like going on, yet knowing will have to sometime. Ignored all prompts from the Universe to continue. Just want to stay in limbo for a bit.
      Woke up with stomach ache this morning. Thoroughly unhappy  because of it. Cannot even enjoy food any more. At least chocolate and coffee still do it for me. But not always. Body in bit of a pickle because of lack of magnesium in muscles. But then, not been out of the house for a while, stagnating in 'sleeping' very long stretches again. Not that it is something I advise people to do. It is just that there are other things that need my attention elsewhere.
      Anyway. Just upset this morning for not able to eat as I used to, not able to sleep. Not able to rest. Being constantly tired and irritated and knowing that it is not from here but my Cosmic Self that has become cynical in its seeing of the physical world, for nothing has changed within my lifespan since the creation of Creation.
      People are still people. They still want the bad with the good and the wonderful without having to take up the responsibility it brings.
      Nothing has changed. It just moves from universe to universe and you start all over again within the same teachings, the same principles, the same type of adventures. Good vs Evil. Good wins, Evil wins. What is new? Destroy, build up from the destruction. Live in peace for a few 100 years. Get bored. Go bad, destroy, build up again. Same old, same old.
      Totally ridiculous. Anyway. Just my viewpoint. Must remember that there are very young Soul-Spirits that also wish to endure, live and let live.
      And therefore they need the chance to have physical worlds that have these opportunities available. It is not my life that is precious here. It is the lives around me. My children, my husband that sees everything as miracles, that stands amazed at the simplistic complexities of everything that makes up physical life.
      Yet when I look at it. It is all the same. It comes from the same place. It goes back to the same place. Physical, spiritual, ethereal. All the same to me.
      Cynical [believing the worst of others, esp. that all acts are selfish]. Correct word to use. All is in the end only for the emotional gathering of the Self, is it not?

14h15pm: Made love to hubby. Quiet. Peaceful, Unattached.
      I am told that I should just go back to that part of Encha. Just do it, get it over with. Go within myself, disappear for a while and bring back the memories onto paper from so long ago.
      Trick is. The door is still locked and I am afraid that if I should open it, the gushing would be too intense to handle upon this plane of existence.
      I am told that I will actually be okay with it. That I should not worry, that I should just open the door and allow the memories the release from my heart they have been waiting for so long.
      Interesting thought that our emotions, our memories, our troubles sometimes long for release from us. For us to allow them to go in peace and forgiveness.
      So I stand in front of the door which holds the box to Encha's darkest memories. I turn the key, waiting for my husband to first bring me my coffee before I will advance inside to open the elusive box I have finally found within this locked room.

21h37pm: Advancing slowly, picking out the oldest memories within sequence, one at a time. Not advancing too fast for comfort, knowing that what is still to come is all very complex memories of good intermingled with bad, with evil, with still not comprehending after all the chronological 'time' after these happenings.
      Take it easy, allowing only one memory at a time to surface, to show itself, to be written for this World I now reside upon and within.
      Frequent breaks between work. Lots of coffee. Lots of sugar. I feel sick to my stomach, yet this body want food, but the Soul-Spirit does not. 

22h39pm: I remember now, as I dig around, one frame of information at a time. The soldiers had a saying. What happens on Encha, stays on Encha. You did not take Encha home. You left her at the portal, carrying on with your life when you leave.
      I remember me and Ariel. I remember why Encha is so deeply buried. Was so undeniably locked up. It is because I lost my soul-mate on that planet. And not just in the physical sense of the word.
      Because of the Rogue Lizard, she was destroyed completely. He was vanquished.  Both were obliterated back into the base element of aether where one's soul became one again with The Creator.
      In the instant before death, I now know that she did it for me. She protected me, trying to keep me under the radar of the Lizard.

24April2011 Sunday 00h21am: No bed for me just yet. More memories being released, all started with one small trigger. I am crying again as the little details are being presented to me. How to give this out to this world? How so much heartache can be carried by one single being?
      The tears spill over my cheeks, gushing into my neck, collecting into my clothes. I take a handkerchief and weep into it, not loud enough for my husband to hear. Not loud enough for my children to wake up.
      Just a release of all the heartache that had been stashed within a dark, dank box. 
      My husband stated that I am busy with a difficult bit, otherwise I would have been typing. Confirmed this. He will know when he reads this part of my previous life. I know now why I have hidden it so well, even from me, the grief is still shallow, digging through to this current life I am living at the moment.
      It is probably time to let this go as well. It is time to release and unveil that which had stayed behind on Encha. That which was never talked about, never mentioned once you left that place, locked up in a strong-box and hidden in a locked room so that you do not ever have to return to it.
      But now I have been ordered to and it is too hard to bear. My heart wants to break all anew, for that one single entity is part of everything now. No longer an individual. And it was not her choice. She did it for me. And I destroyed her. I destroyed her completely. How can one ever forgive oneself for that atrocity? How?
      I know that it was the only way.
      I have never revealed my feelings to anyone before. Not in the lifetime of Han Storm anyway. No-one ever discussed Encha after we've opened her up and destroyed the Lizards. No-one ever asked what happened that day.
      We all kept quiet, too afraid and too emotionally depleted to bring that negativity to the fore.
      And now I am paying for it. Hundreds of Thousands of years after the incident. I am paying for it. My family is paying for it, because I become not myself. I become someone else and I do not know if I am strong enough within this body to handle it.
      Feeling empty and depleted. Warn out by the responsibility to bring my lives to this World.
      Limbo.
      Protecting myself from the emotional overload.
      Limbo.
      I want to sleep, but sleep will bring only more detailed memories . . .

Ω

Copyright © H Gibson Chronicles of Han Storm. All rights reserved. 2009-2015 
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Saturday, 14 February 2015

Han's first Love on Creata


Han's first Love on Creata
(Excerpt from Preserving Creata, Chronicles of Han Storm, Book 1)

      My point in reality started oscillating. My consciousness could be many places at once. I allowed myself to see beyond time and space as mortals knew it . . .

      I was sitting in the cave on Kwailu, in exactly the same spot I sat before when Drogt gave me his life-knowledge.
      A shadow moved in front of the firelight in the passage.
      It took on form as it came closer.
      I recognized the shapely legs before the fire played across Mara’s beautiful face.
      I stopped breathing, my heart constricting with pain.
      She averted her eyes as she glided up to the platform and took a position opposite me.
      I could not place her mood. She kept a black cape tightly wrapped around her aura. Only a few shards of golden light escaped where she had pulled it together in front of her.
      I could not speak. For all that mattered, I could have been carved from stone.
      "If this is only a vision, let me not wake from it" I begged her.
      "It is a shared moment. I came to say goodbye. There is another that needs your love, and you hers. It is time for the young and adventurous to continue."
      She raised her right hand and placed the palm over the scar on my chest. It felt warm and very real. "I release you from any perceived loyalties. You are free to pursue what you must. Go, have peace. When you wake, your heart will be healed."
      I placed my hands over hers.
      Their warmth eased the intense pain I felt.
      She smiled at me.
      Looking deeply into my eyes, the vision dissolved to nothing . . .

Ω

Copyright © H Gibson Chronicles of Han Storm 2009-2015 www.chroniclesofhan.com



Note: The Chronicles of Han Storm is filled with romance as well, life lessons in making love and being love. These scenes are meant to be read in context with the books and not to be pulled apart in snippets or excerpts. The books are enjoyed by readers aged from young adult to pensioners. 

Friday, 30 January 2015

Stolen Body


(Excerpt from The Chronicles of Han Storm, Preserving Creata)

So, how does it feel when your body is stolen?

Panam interrupted the homecoming. “Have you had anything to eat since you woke up this morning?”
Racewater looked at me too.
“No.”
I was not impressed with the quarters. It was cramped and I would not be able to stay here for long.
“Are you feeling like anything to eat right now?” Panam was concerned.
“No, thank you.”
I changed the subject and voiced my complaint. “I am really not comfortable with this room.”
Racewater agreed. “Neither are we, but this is the best we have at the moment. As I said, if you can find something better, please do.”
I had to be satisfied with that and sat down on my bed. Sleep was very far away. I had just woken up from a three day snooze. Why should I be feeling tired?
Panam was digging in a bag. I had nothing better to do but watch him. He brought forth an energy bar, covered in chocolate. It was the berry type I favoured. I knew it was for me and my mouth suddenly watered for it.
This was the first time since acquiring this new body that it responded in this way at the sight of something edible.
I was as surprised as everyone else by the barbaric manner in which I saw my body grab the bar from Panam and gobble it up. It just made sure the wrapper was opened wide enough to get the snack out.
I was so embarrassed by this sudden inexplicable lack of control that I kicked off my shoes and buried myself under the blankets on my bed.
I really did not want to face my friends. This was absolutely humiliating.
I heard Panam sit down on the opposite bed, facing me. “Maybe we approached the situation all wrong with the nutritional requirements of your new body? Maybe it needs more fruit sugars? I want you to look at me.”
I refused to do so physically. I was well aware that I was looking at him with a part of my consciousness outside myself.
Panam looked over at Racewater, a silent question in his eyes. He had another bar in his hand, already unwrapped.
My body could not help itself and, without looking and with lightning speed, left Panam with empty hands, the wrapper falling to the floor. It gobbled that one up under the blanket.
Again, surprise registered on both their faces. I wished to die of embarrassment, but did not get so far.
Warm comfort enveloped me. There was no way the energy bars could be drugged, but that was the response it had on my body. It fell asleep.
This was so weird. Half of me was asleep, the other half felt that I needed to return to my body too, to give it the rest it needed. Like a naughty child I defied the call of the mother, trying to stay awake when I was already asleep.
Panam checked my vitals, sitting down when he had finished.
“I really do not know just what had happened now, but he is sleeping like a small child“ he told Racewater. “I will ask Sandra to test the response of the energy bars on his bloods. There must be something in there that he responds to as a natural knock-out.”
“In the way he grabbed the bars, it was if he had absolutely no control over his body“ Racewater replied. “Did you see the surprise and hurt in his eyes? I hope he can forgive himself come morning. Maybe we must simply ignore the whole incident and act as if it never happened?”
“We could, but it is not going to help us find out why he responded in this way. He always showed great control over himself. I am scared he might be falling apart.” Panam was frightened.
He had good reason to be. He had seen first hand what can happen when psychics ‘lost’ it. It was not a pretty sight.
I resolved to get a grip on this body. I was its master. It had to listen to me. Starting right now, I refused to give up this part of my consciousness to join the sleeping part of myself. This was the first step to independence.
Locked out of my body, I had nothing else to do but eavesdrop on Panam and Racewater. It was boring entertainment, with both preparing for sleep after a hard day’s work. Panam confirmed that Racewater had dinner. Racewater took a shower and turned in.
Panam checked my vitals before taking his turn to shower. He made himself some coffee before retiring to bed. I was left alone with only the bathroom light on for company.
Both men were sleeping almost as soon as their heads hit their pillows. I had a closer look at my silent, sleeping body. It looked small and vulnerable on the bed. Even the features took on the look of a very young child.
I stayed in front of my body the whole night. It stirred from time to time, and at one stage said something in a language I did not recognize.
I asked for a download. A feeling of saturation brought the necessary knowledge. My body had clearly said “I’m coming mother.”

Come morning, it woke up, a joyful smile on the lips. Two very bright and shiny black eyes were looking about the room with a mischievous glint in them.
I was definitely not in control any longer.
Realization struck.
Somebody else, with a very strong personality and spirit, had surreptitiously taken over my body and most of my functions. I was so surprised that you could have knocked me over with a feather.
I had to get my conscious side back in my body to enable me to help the small child that had taken it over. Either for him to find peace, or at least to move on to another plane of existence.
I wondered how Panam and Racewater would perceive this sudden crisis. For this was a crisis.
I was supposed to start work this morning, and there was absolutely no way I could deal with anything until I had my body back. It was simply far too dangerous having a toddler at the controls of a psychic weapon.
I gently re-introduced my consciousness into my body. My body went rigid for a second as recognition of another was felt throughout.
“Who are you?” the voice of a small boy asked out loud in the language I now understood.
The voice woke Racewater who sat up and looked at me. My body was now sitting up in bed too.
“I am Han Storm and this is my body, not yours. May I please have it back?” I felt Racewater’s surprise. I spoke Creatan. The child understood me, but answered in his own language.
“No. You left it. It is mine now. Finders, keepers.” Your typical toddler’s response. This was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. I could still think as an individual spirit, but had almost no control over my physical functions.
The new owner made my body jump up and down on the bed.
Racewater knew now what was going on. He went around my body and woke Panam, whispering to him. Thank goodness they would not think me mad any longer.
Panam whispered back to Racewater “This is a huge problem. We will have to stall everything until this is resolved. Go get Quill, we need their input.”
Racewater left me jumping on the bed, sneaking out to find re-enforcements.
I tried again to speak to the child. It was amazing that my voice came out as usual, but when the child said anything, it was definitely  a child’s voice.
“Please stop jumping. This body is big and can break the bed, hurting both of us.” The boy stopped jumping, sat down and stared at Panam, who calmly went about his morning business, ignoring us.
“What is your name?” I ventured in Creatan.
“Daijon” I received back from my own body in a child’s voice.
“Where do you come from?”
“From here. I was alone for a very long time. Everyone went away, and then people came again and I was not alone any more. They do not want to give me food. They also do not talk to me as you do.”
My body went over to Panam, Daijon was interested in the coffee that he was preparing. “I want some.”
Panam did not understand the language. I translated helplessly “He requested some coffee.”
Panam firmly replied, as if he was a teacher “No, this drink is only for grown-up people. Little children cannot have this. It is not healthy for them.”
“But this body is big already. Give me some.” He stamped a foot to enforce his request.
Panam ignored him and addressed me. “How can he understand us, but answers in another language?”
“I estimate him to portray a toddler of four or five, just coming fully into language skills. It would be hard to learn to ‘speak’ another language. It is easier to understand than actually speak it.”
The boy responded “No, I just do not want to.” I did not bother to translate to Panam as Racewater, Quill and Bulwark arrived. Racewater locked the door behind him, as if afraid that my body would escape.
Quill took one look and started laughing. It was not a funny situation at all, but it was hilarious if you thought that I was supposed to be trained in preventing this from happening.
Bulwark gave a wry smile. Racewater went livid with anger, but managed to keep his tongue. Panam showed his surprise by almost dropping his coffee.
Daijon did not appreciate the laughter.
He lifted my arm and hand, but that was as far as it went. Fortunately some of the knowledge residing in this powerful entity had permeated into my consciousness. He was well gifted in the art of illusions and could enforce compulsion. This I found directly from his memories, that somehow was filtering through to me.
I managed to freeze my body with a self-compulsion. No matter how hard Daijon fought me, I refused to let my body move.
My face must have given the inner fight away. I could feel it contorting with the effort to keep the power from spilling out of my body.
Daijon suddenly gave up. My body slumped forward and then sat down on the floor.
“I want to go home” Daijon said. A sniff escaped my body and then large tears rolled down my cheeks.
Quill came and sat in front of my body.
“Stop crying.” He said, taking my chin in his hand, making Daijon look up into his eyes. “Where is your home. We will take you there.”
Quill understood the language! Yet he replied in Creatan, as I was speaking to the child.
Daijon stopped crying and wiped the tears with my sleeve. He answered all excited. “I will show you where I sleep. Come.” My body jumped up and went to the door. I was now only a passenger!
Racewater caught the nod from Quill and unlocked it. Panam and Quill rushed after my body.
 Daijon took us to the elevator and then to the top floor. This turned out to be the main site of the Dig and was of gigantic proportions.
It had one main feature.
The Planetary Portal!
This portal was so huge, it dwarfed the portal that used to stand at Batista. Flashes of memory wanted my attention simultaneously.
I saw a travel craft arriving through the portal. Similar craft were queuing, ready and waiting to take the journey to another planet. People and goods were secured inside these travel craft. I knew they were called something else, but the name was eluding me.
Daijon supplied the missing information. They were called Toowins. The craft were adaptable aircraft and could be used as normal aircraft transport carriers. At the moment their wings were tucked into their sides to facilitate easy portal travel.
With such a big portal, the tunnels should also be of gigantic proportions. Where are we going to get enough energy to start this Portal, if we manage to rebuild a suitable and stable enough worm-hole or tunnel?
I had not even started the actual work of unravelling the mystery of the Portal, and I was already panicking about getting it to work.
Daijon told me to stop fretting.
I had almost forgotten my immediate crisis. Daijon was pained by the thought. So he was already telepathically linked to me. I tried to open a link directly to his spirit, but found him blocked as if he was a non-telepath. I let it go.
He led us to the back of the cavern, skipping as he went. I wished I could vanish into the earth. Daijon laughed at my embarrassment.
Several side tunnels led from here. He took one that looked as if work had only recently started within. The tunnel was clear, but seemed to lead to no-where.
Daijon activated the light by instruction, as I did at Batista. “The other people cannot get it right. They always bring their own light-source. They are so silly.”
Daijon took us right to the back of the tunnel where we reached a dead end consisting of panels. He held my hand over an activation panel and life-force was released into it.
Whether it was my life-energy, Daijon’s or a mix of the two, I did not know, but the panels moved apart, revealing another tunnel. He asked for light and we moved into this tunnel. The doors sealed behind us. Time to worry about that later.
This tunnel ended in a landing. There was absolutely nothing further that we could perceive. Daijon was very excited. Allowing my body to hang over the railing, he pointed down into the black nothingness.
“Look there, next to the crystal. That is where I sleep. No-one ever comes here to look for me. I still sleep there, but I want to go sleep with my mother now. She is in the caves at the other side of the city. Can you take me to her?”
He was definitely linked telepathically with me, for as he spoke, I saw exactly where his mummified remains lay where he had fallen as a small child. I also saw, in his memory of falling, the immensely huge crystal he had shattered his tiny body on.
I have found my energy source to generate the Portal!
Right now, there was no way anyone, except me, could retrieve his remains. I needed my own body available to me, without any interference from him.
I opened the telepathic link on my side as wide as I could. I needed him to know that it was time for him to let go, that I could not collect his body and take it to his mother unless he allowed me to.
He understood. After receiving a mental hug from him, I felt a light electric shock passing into me as he left.
A small boy with dark hair and eyes was standing in front of me. His skin presented as very pale, like mine.
This was Daijon, as he had perceived himself for hundreds of Creata years. How lonely this child spirit must have been, stuck here in this place for so long.
I immediately brought my psychic shields up to safeguard my body from accidental or wilful takeover. I will not allow this sort of thing to happen again.
I had grown complacent in my day to day dealings with the Other Side, forgetting that I was as vulnerable as the next person where individual entities were concerned.
Daijon backed up a little way. He looked like the naughty little boy that he once was, being caught in one of his games.
I was unable to follow this new development. Quill touched my arm hesitantly.
“Han, are you with us?” he asked.
“Yes, all the way.”

Ω

Copyright © H Gibson Chronicles of Han Storm 2009-2015


For more information and excerpts visit www.chroniclesofhan.com