If you like the possibility of living a past life, you'll like Karm Currents.
http://bookgoodies.com/a/B01D0AW784
Wearing an ancient ring, Liliha whispers advice inside the mind of strangers in need. But family matters arise, and regressions point to another time in ancient Egypt when they were connected.
Excerpt from Karm Currents:
A sudden shift in balance alerted Liliha to an approaching vision. The room tilted and the familiar lily perfume wafted over her. She swallowed and took a quivering breath. At the edge of her perception a high voice repeated one indistinct word while she twisted inside the tunnel to another location.
* * *
With the word 'Mum' reverberating, I arrive inside the familiar fog. After bright morning sunshine penetrates the gloom, I descend into the kitchen of a suburban house.
A boy of about ten years, in obvious distress, stands behind a woman sitting at the table.
I meld with him, and adjust to his comprehension.
His name is Jack and he's panicked about his mother whose upper body is jerking over a plate on the table. From our mouth comes a high call. Jack knows what's wrong. He learned what to do at school three days earlier. "Mom." We lean to one side of her head to check her red face and her flushed lips which are taking on a bluish hue with each gasp.
He hesitates, unsure of his ability.
I whisper, 'Use the menouver. Now.'
We stretch our short arms to encircle her waist from behind. Making a fist with one little hand, we grasp it with the other, and then give a sharp upward thrust. She lifts her head from the plate of half-eaten breakfast of bacon and sausages, but continues to choke.
He's so small, and I can't give physical assistance. I issue encouragement to use more force.
We whimper, drag in a shuddering breath and glance at the door.
'You're not alone. I'll help you,' I whisper. I concentrate all my inner strength on his effort.
We grit our teeth and jerk her midriff several more times. She stiffens. A piece of food shoots out of her mouth and lands on the plate. She sucks in a great breath, her face red and clammy.
"Wait, Mom. I know what to do." We push her sideways off the chair and grab her arm. In a desperate struggle of flailing limbs, we help her lie on the floor. She bangs her knee. "Sorry, Mom." All elbows, we turn her onto her side to the recovery position. She coughs in several weak bursts.
'Well done.' I whisper. 'But she needs expert help.'
"Thank you, God," we whisper. "Hold on, Mom." We grab the phone from the bench with trembling fingers and punch the emergency number. Our arms are shaking, but I absorb his pride about remembering his lesson from the First Aid course.
I remain until a siren sounds in the distance.
* * *
Years ago, Liliha had helped Mother when she'd suffered chest pains. Ambulance attendants had reassured them about the cause—indigestion rather than a heart attack. They'd laughed afterward.
End of excerpt.
####
If you like the possibility of living a past life, you'll like Karm Currents.
Universal link to Karm Currents: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B01D0AW784
Wearing an ancient ring, Liliha whispers advice inside the mind of strangers in need. But family matters arise, and regressions point to another time in ancient Egypt when they were connected.
Excerpt from Karm Currents:
A sudden shift in balance alerted Liliha to an approaching vision. The room tilted and the familiar lily perfume wafted over her. She swallowed and took a quivering breath. At the edge of her perception a high voice repeated one indistinct word while she twisted inside the tunnel to another location.
* * *
With the word 'Mum' reverberating, I arrive inside the familiar fog. After bright morning sunshine penetrates the gloom, I descend into the kitchen of a suburban house.
A boy of about ten years, in obvious distress, stands behind a woman sitting at the table.
I meld with him, and adjust to his comprehension.
His name is Jack and he's panicked about his mother whose upper body is jerking over a plate on the table. From our mouth comes a high call. Jack knows what's wrong. He learned what to do at school three days earlier. "Mom." We lean to one side of her head to check her red face and her flushed lips which are taking on a bluish hue with each gasp.
He hesitates, unsure of his ability.
I whisper, 'Use the menouver. Now.'
We stretch our short arms to encircle her waist from behind. Making a fist with one little hand, we grasp it with the other, and then give a sharp upward thrust. She lifts her head from the plate of half-eaten breakfast of bacon and sausages, but continues to choke.
He's so small, and I can't give physical assistance. I issue encouragement to use more force.
We whimper, drag in a shuddering breath and glance at the door.
'You're not alone. I'll help you,' I whisper. I concentrate all my inner strength on his effort.
We grit our teeth and jerk her midriff several more times. She stiffens. A piece of food shoots out of her mouth and lands on the plate. She sucks in a great breath, her face red and clammy.
"Wait, Mom. I know what to do." We push her sideways off the chair and grab her arm. In a desperate struggle of flailing limbs, we help her lie on the floor. She bangs her knee. "Sorry, Mom." All elbows, we turn her onto her side to the recovery position. She coughs in several weak bursts.
'Well done.' I whisper. 'But she needs expert help.'
"Thank you, God," we whisper. "Hold on, Mom." We grab the phone from the bench with trembling fingers and punch the emergency number. Our arms are shaking, but I absorb his pride about remembering his lesson from the First Aid course.
I remain until a siren sounds in the distance.
* * *
Years ago, Liliha had helped Mother when she'd suffered chest pains. Ambulance attendants had reassured them about the cause—indigestion rather than a heart attack. They'd laughed afterward.
End of excerpt.
####
If you like the possibility of living a past life, you'll like Karm Currents.
Universal link to Karm Currents: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B01D0AW784