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  • Format: Paperback
  • Copyright: 2012-04-10
  • Publisher: Textstream
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Passages is book three in the Traveler's Trilogy.Dr. Helen Strums, a successful psychiatrist and life coach, has always known that her life's purpose was more than what it presently was. The past kept creeping in . . . the long past. Her dreams have been filled with visions of a harsh past life experience since puberty and her whole life seemed a struggle between ignoring that past and living it; the struggle of how to acknowledge and embrace her gifts without being shunned by society the darkest of her nightmares. An ancient evil has seeped out into the light. The founding fathers of the north central Pennsylvania town warned of the need to keep their secrets safely under the spell of suppression in order to protect humankind. A secret journal had been passed from mother to daughter since the founding of the town describing religious rituals that needed to be performed every year on a certain night; rituals forgotten and ignored by modern thinking descendants.Join Helen as she searches for the answers that will show her the way to conquer the demons that threaten her new home and her sanity.


She awoke from the nightmare as she always did -- screaming, drenched in sweat and sitting straight up in bed.
"Damn it!"  She threw the covers back and stomped to the bathroom sink for a drink of water.  The energy drain of the dream always left her dehydrated.
The essence of the nightmare was always the same.  Had been since the first time she'd had it in the predawn hours of her 13th birthday.  Sometimes it was short and sweet, just reminding her it was still around.  This night's dream, however, seemed to have started the moment she fell asleep and was in vivid color and detail.  She could even see the needles of the evergreen trees beyond the village, a man watching from behind them.  But the end was always the same . . . she was lashed to a pole, burning alive inside a circle of stones, while people stood watching in fear and no one tried to save her.
Now wide awake, she refilled her water glass, taking it with her to the big, thick cushioned reclining lounge of her bedroom suite.  
What a way to start the day. She looked at the clock next to her bed.
"Damn it again!"  It was only 3:30 am, the morning of her 50th birthday.  There would be no going back to sleep.
Hanging on one wall was a black and white portrait of her one-year-old self in a frilly white dress.  She lifted her glass of water in a toast.
"Happy friggin birthday."

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