Showing posts with label psychic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label psychic. Show all posts

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Exclusive Excerpt of Mind Over Psyche






This month is my Mind Over Psyche book tour.  It came out Sept 13 from DragonMoon.  For the next couple of weeks, I'm sharing some excerpts.

This is from near the beginning of the book.  As you may know from Mind Over Mind, Deryl has psychic abilities that drove him insane years ago, but working with Joshua helped him get them under control.  However, no one but Joshua and Dr. Malachai believe him--and Malachai has had no intention of ever releasing Deryl from the mental institution.  In Mind Over Mind, Deryl, while feverish, thought demons were after him (they were) and used telekinesis to fight them off.  This scene takes place a couple of weeks later, in Dr. Malachai's office:



When Deryl didn’t answer except to glare his challenge, Malachai shrugged.  “Thanks to your…demonstration…while delirious during your appendicitis, I believe it’s safe now to admit you do have some unexplainable talents, and that they may indeed be a factor in your emotional stability.  Quite a breakthrough, if you think about it.”  He leaned his elbows on his desk, hands clasped, and regarded Deryl with a not-quite smug smile.

Deryl seethed inside, but forced himself to mimic the psychiatrist’s posture.  He was getting out of this place, one way or another.  “So?”

Malachai raised a brow, and the fullness of the plan pressed into Deryl’s mind even before he felt the invitation.

Still, Deryl squinted, making a show of concentration.  No way would he let Malachai know the extent of his abilities.  He’d always had a hard time reading the chief psychiatrist—now was his chance to take advantage of Malachai’s openness.  Besides, he needed time to think.

Malachai’s name on respected psychiatric journals.  No more articles in rag-mags like Psychic Living Now!

“You want to study my abilities openly…” Deryl spoke slowly.

Malachai on the podium at international symposiums, presenting his findings to his peers, video of Deryl in an MRI chamber performing tricks while the results of his brain scan played on a separate screen.

Malachai nodded.  “In return, I will arrange for you to have outpatient status.”

Deryl being called to his side, like a faithful dog, and told to perform similar tricks for Malachai’s audience.

Malachai pointed to the EEG machine in the corner.  That surprised Deryl; usually, it remained discreetly behind the cabinet doors until he had Deryl’s cooperation.  “It’s the best we have at the moment, but enough for a start.  We’ll do a simple telekinesis exercise and get some preliminary readings.  Monday, I’ll use that data to arrange for more precise instruments.  This is your chance at a normal life…”

Malachai with his own private institute, combing the country for other psychics.  A team of scientists under Malachai’s direction, drawing blood, administering drugs—playing with Deryl’s body chemistry to determine the cause of his abilities.  Seeking a way to replicate them in others.  

A normal life?  Deryl shivered.  “And if I refuse?”

A barrier clamped down so hard on Malachai’s thoughts that Deryl flinched.  

“I think neither of us wants to investigate that possibility,” he replied, but Deryl felt the threat in his bland words.
Want more?  Here's where you can purchase.



Monday, September 05, 2011

Mind Over Mind: Letter from Deryl



Dear Mom,

I'm 18 today. Legal to vote, legal to go to war--

That is, if I weren't committed in this asylum.

I don't blame Aunt Kate and Uncle Doug. Things were so confusing for so long. There were days I could barely hang onto my own name. There were too many other thoughts, too many personalities that wanted to impress themselves on me. How do you explain that to people without sounding crazy? Who was going to believe that I was psychic?

You would have. You'd have tried to help me. Why did you have to die? You saved my life that day, but for what?

I'm sorry, Mom. That's not fair. You didn't want to die. I'm sorry.

So, anyway. Eighteen today. We had a party. It was dismal. The cake was chocolate because Aunt Kate believes that normal people love chocolate. She's pregnant again--this child will live, I know it. I told her, too, but I don't know if she believed me. Uncle Doug snuck in some liquor, which Dr. Edith promptly confiscated. Still, it was the first time in a long time he's treated me with something other than pity or concern. Guess that means a lot, considering. Oh, and Edith got me something--a new friend. Not a dog or anything, but an intern. Joshua Lawson. He's arrogant, but I don't think he's a jerk. Just very, very sure of himself. Guess I'll be taking him down a peg or two.

I'll tell him the truth about my abilities. He won't believe me, but he'll pretend to--it's part of his psychiatric technique, neuro-linguistic programming. Like I'm a computer. But who knows? Maybe it will work. Heaven knows medication and meditation have done oh-so well. If it does, I'll have to hide it, though; Malachai likes his little guinea pig under his control. Gonna be an interesting summer.

Still, I hope it works. I need to get out of here, one way or another. Even if I skip the country and live my life on a deserted island, at least it will be my life, right? Who needs people, anyway? People are just headaches and confusion.

I don't know why I'm writing this, other than I promised Edith I would. She promised she wouldn't read it, but I'm going to burn it, anyway. Let's face it--psychic powers, "take him down a peg," not to mention the stuff about Malachai. I sound crazy, violent and paranoid. Just like you'd expect a committed teen to act, right?

Anyway, I feel Joshua coming down the hall. Edith actually let him sneak out the booze. I'm not legal drinking age, anymore, but I guess if I can't go to war or vote, right? I'll toast you, Mom. I love you and I miss you. I am grateful that you gave me life. Don't worry; I'll figure out what to do with it.

Love,
Deryl