Unblock!

I was blocked. I was way past deadline on a crucial phase of writing.

I quit trying to push through, went into my bedroom and closed the door. I sat on the bed, ate a piece of chocolate, and partook of herbal medicine, then settled down in the muted light.

I could feel the block in my upper torso. It hit me that I had been avoiding looking at it for a while, which only gave it time to solidify. Shit! I’m a shamanic practitioner. I facilitate the clearing of blocks for other people. I could certainly do it for myself.

I opened my crown and energy started pouring in. My third eye pulsed. Electricity sparked through my shoulders and upper arms. I felt myself getting lighter. In my mind’s eye, I saw a dark mass in my field break into chunks that fell into the river of energy and were washed away. Phew!

I still lay with eyes closed, intending to drowse, but – Ja! The ideas started coming. I grabbed pen and  paper from my bedside and began to write, which is what you’re reading right now.

The whole point of spiritual work is to make life as good as possible.

This is me applying what I know in my own life. Don’t laugh. You’d be surprised how many wise and kind people forget to apply their wisdom and kindness to themselves.

So I’m signing off now to doze and envision my body and my life within a flowing golden current.

One request: please don’t leave without sharing a little about how you do this.  Thanks!

Celebrating Silver

There is something extraordinarily beautiful about BEING AN ELDER. It took me a while to get here. I cruised through the decades pretty blithely – until my 70th. That one hit me hard. Now I could feel the weight of years behind me and the lightness of the years ahead. My body went through some painful changes – and then, as my mental state rebounded, so did my physical state.

As the path of physical embodiment in front of me shortened, I began to dig deeper into each moment and to sort and sift through my priorities, releasing everything but the most meaningful activities.

I found how much both time and joy respond to presence and awareness. My body responded, too. I feel strong and balanced – and I listen closely to my body’s signals. Now people frequently tell me my energy is young, that I am “youngering.” I feel it, too, that curiosity about everything I’m learning and the deeply fulfilling privilege of focusing on my passions.

I am grateful to be the age I am and to be part of the Tribe of loving, supportive souls who are Being Love. We are not afraid of “woo woo;” rather, we invoke its power. Nor are we afraid of this so-called “reality,” for we know how to use woo woo to shift it. We are bringing the powerful magic of loving intention to a world that desperately needs comfort and guidance.

My white hair? My less firm skin and the wrinkles the years have etched into my face?  These are badges of honor that I wear a little defiantly and a lot more proudly.

These days I hang out only with people who are doing their own work and growing in the way their souls designed. You know who you are. You know how much I love you. So don’t be afraid of silver strands in your hair or changes in the shape of your face. The wiser you get, the more beautiful you become.

Thoughts?

The End of Her World

She watched her mother’s face as all color drained away. For once, her mother had heard her. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

She wasn’t used to winning. Now, watching her mother collapse into the kitchen chair, her stomach clenched and her eyes burned. The crippled hands that had always been so busy gripped the edge of the table as though her mother needed something – anything – to hold onto. Her breath was quick and shallow, like a dog panting in summer heat.

Mercedes realized she was holding her breath and gasped, air rushing into her lungs. Words flew through her mind, vanishing before she could capture the right ones.

“But why?” her mother wailed.

Mercedes heard the fear in the plaintive cry.

“It’s so far.” Her mother’s milky eyes filled with tears.

Because it’s far enough from you, Mercedes thought, but didn’t say.

“Because that’s where work is,” Mercedes replied. And Rafael. And escape from this dry, dusty place that shrivels my soul.

“Do you hate me that much, Mercedes?”

“No, Mamita, it’s not about you. It’s this place. There is no life for me here, no friends, no school.”

“Juan…”

“No! I don’t love Juan! We’ve been over this again and again.” Mercedes shuddered at the image of the squat adobe house bleached by the desert sun, the man with the empty eyes and hunched shoulders who lived just down the road.

Mercedes averted her eyes from the tears trickling down the parchment skin of her mother’s cheeks.

“Let Juan take care of you, Mamita. You are safer here in the country than you would be in the city. But I need more. I will send you money.”

Her mother snorted and shook her head. “What do I need money for? There is nothing around here to buy!”

“My point exactly, Mamita,” responded Mercedes, passion rising within her. “If you could see, you would understand. There is nothing here to give life color or music.”

Mercedes lifted her gaze beyond the green of corn and beans to the monotone sweep of desert and barren hills.

“Don’t you remember from when Papi brought you here, when your eyes first began to fail?”

“I remember, but it was beautiful to me. Safe. Peaceful. It was safe for you, too, as it got harder to see. It was just the right thing to do.” Her mother’s voice was strained.

“For then, Mama. Not for now. At least not for me. You know this place so well that you get along fine without seeing. I can’t imagine that your beans and tortillas could taste any better than when you could see. You can tell when the garden needs water and your feet find the path easily. You can shuck corn faster than I can still.”

“But, Mija, I will be so lonely without you,” her mother whispered.

Mercedes knew that her mother mourned the babies she would not hold, babies Mercedes refused to make with the slow, silent Juan.

She thought about Rafael and felt heat flush her cheeks as the muscles in her belly tightened. She wanted so much to make babies with Rafael. The boys would be strong like him, and laughing. The girls would have his flashing eyes and easy grace. She would bring them to visit. But she couldn’t tell Mama that. Mama didn’t know about Rafael. She would never approve a husband who wasn’t Catholic. Unless there was a beautiful baby to help her change her mind.

Her mother covered her face with her worn, twisted hands and her shoulders shuddered as she sobbed.

Mercedes stiffened. She would not give in this time. Since Papi died, Mami leaned more and more on her. She was nearly 27, almost too old for niños. She was lucky that Rafael wanted her in spite of her age. Mami would forgive her when she brought her a baby to hold. Rafael would not fix things around the place, but he would play his guitar and sing songs until Mami laughed and clapped her hands.

Following that train of thought, Mercedes blurted out, “Juan will take care of you, Mami, and then he will not be lonely either.”

Her mother sniffed. “He has been like a son to me.”

Mercedes heard the accusation that her mother’s clamped lips cut off. Not like you, the daughter who wants to run away. But this time Mercedes hardened her heart, the color and fabric of her new life beckoning.

She saw her mother’s grief turn to anger, which flushed her cheeks red as she pressed her lips into a thin line. Mamita pushed down on the table and stood, wobbling only a little. The chair behind her scraped across the dirt floor but stayed upright. As Mercedes watched, Mamita turned her face toward the breeze that gusted through the open door and followed it outside, her steps sure on the familiar path.

Mercedes followed her, put her arms around the stiff, unrelenting shoulders. “Mamita…” she breathed.

“Don’t Mamita me, Mija. You are the one who is leaving.”

Mercedes gazed past her mother to the blaze of coral that spread across the horizon as the sun sank behind the clouds of dust, painting the monotone landscape with a rosy glow.

“Friend or foe?”

“Could be either,” Kale replied.

Lila, the Mo’o, is an important character in The Crystalline Vision, and a most unusual one. A Mo’o is a mythical being unique to the Hawaiian Islands. An article in Maui Magazine describes them this way.

“Most moʻo of legend are female, shapeshifters capable of appearing as beautiful maidens or water dragons. They dwell in caves, pools, and fishponds and are fierce guardians of freshwater sources. According to nineteenth-century Hawaiian historian Samuel Kamakau, when fires were lit on altars near their homes, the moʻo would appear: twelve- to thirty-foot-long reptiles, black as night, glistening in the water.”

Shapeshifter? Now we’re talkin’!

Well, you can imagine what happened next. She no sooner had my attention than Lila started talking. First she described mo’os in general – a dragon-like lizard up to 30 feet long or – a beautiful, seductive woman. In either form she can act as protector or destroyer.

Lila said that in her lizard form, her teeth are gigantic, like a tyrannosaurus rex,

but that her body is more like an iguana.

 

When she shapeshifts into a woman…

 

…Lila appears as a beautiful, seductive islander.

Poor Ben. Lila, the Mo’o is attached to him for better or for worse, like an animal spirit guide, or like those old cartoons in which an angel sits on one shoulder, a devil on the other, arguing their cases.

Ultimately, Lila makes Ben face his choices. It’s not easy. He’s resisted acknowledging everything invisible his whole life, and as CEO of the hottest tech company in town, he’s invested in the delusion. That won’t work for Lila, the Crystalline Grid, or the CyberShark investors. Ben must face what he finds inside and choose who he will be. If he makes the wrong choice? That wonderful CyberShark technology could turn from being a gift to humanity to being the instrument of its destruction!

 

The Crystalline Vision is available now with it’s original title and cover. It will be reborn April 27th as Protectors of the Grid, Book 1 of The Shaman Chronicles, available here now: https://tinyurl.com/CrystallineVision.

 

 

 

Although all books in the series are complete in themselves, your favorite characters continue their adventures in Protective Force,  available here:  https://tinyurl.com/ProtectiveForce. Book 2 will be reborn May 11th as Protectors of the Path, Book 2 of The Shaman Chronicles, 

 

 

 

 

And – for the first time in any dimension – Book 3, Protectors of the Water, will launch May 26th!

Stay tuned to learn how to preorder your copy.

 

On break with the band…

Launch Preparations

While it’s rewarding to feel the momentum building for the launch of The Shaman Chronicles, to be putting together charming little teasers and giveaways for beloved readers, a smart author needs to get away for some R & R for the home stretch. To refill that energetic well, right?

Rehoming Soul Parts

Tonight I hold a private Soul Retrieval ceremony for the angels who will be assisting in the public Soul Retrieval ceremony next week. The energy (plasma storm) that has been pouring onto the planet from last week’s gi-normous solar flare gave last Saturday’s Soul Retrieval ceremony extra power and promises extra potency for tonight and for next week. The spirits are as eager as we are. Thanks, Universe, for the boosts!

Missing in Action!

All these preparations are moving forward nicely, but there’s lots to think about, lots to do, lots of energy being expended. Time for a breather. This girl is going on the band bus! Yep, you heard it right. This weekend I am officially on R&R – going to Vilcabamba with the Paco Blues band to cheer ‘em on at the Mestizo gig on the square in Vilcabamba.

It’s fun to play with everyone’s fantasies! Being a band groupie this weekend will be just as much fun as it sounds, but probably not like it woulda been xxx years ago, when we were all young(er) and stupid(er). There will be none of the sex, drugs and rock and roll that is legendary on band tours. Ummm – there may be sex – wives and husbands will be along – and herbal edibles to keep your spirits high. For sure there will be great music to get our booties shaking. But the 5-hour drive is along the crest of fabulous mountains and the quaint little town of Vilcabamba is in the Valley of Longevity. The weekend will include numerous spa treatments and pampering.

To whet your appetite…

…I’d like you to meet another favorite character from Protectors of the Grid (still listed on Amazon as The Crystalline Vision for a short time, if you’d like a momento of the first run). 

Red Fox

The old shaman sat on the front porch of his cabin, steam rising from the coffee in the mug on the floor beside him. His eyes were closed but he smiled when he felt the warmth and light on his face as the sun crested the trees. A sense of well-being burst around him like the sunlight. The tune rumbling in his throat exploded in a song that soared through the trees to join the birds chattering their excitement at a new day. Then a thought crossed his mind that brought a scowl.

That Ben. After all the grief he gave me and Kachi during Kachi’s training years… He was always the most disrespectful, skeptical, rebellious kid around, a lousy influence when Kachi was growing into his gifts.  

Red Fox caught himself. Who would have thought Ben would end up a multi-billionaire hot-shot. Best not to think of that now that he’s swallowed crow to beg for the same training.

Red Fox’s thoughts drifted back to his own youth, when he, too, was an arrogant, self-important, terrified and rebellious young man. He laughed to himself. None of his proteges ever figured out how he got onto them, though it should have been obvious that he had been them before Life knocked the pins out from under him.

He felt the air swirl past as a presence swooped by and a message touched his awareness. Humans. Hardly anybody listens until things get gritty.

Red Fox grinned as he scanned the lower branches of the nearer trees. Ah, there you are, old friend. The owl’s golden eyes shone in the shadows. Red Fox waited as a shimmer distorted reality for a few seconds. Then Jha Heya, having shape-shifted back into human form, strode out of the forest, across the clearing, and up the steps.

“Got any more coffee?” he asked.

Red Fox rose, went inside, and came back with another mug of steaming coffee. “Good to see you, my friend.”

Jha Heya sipped carefully before answering. “Likewise, my brother.” Jha Heya took a seat on the steps so he could gaze out into the woods. “So peaceful here,” he murmured.

“Umhmm,” Red Fox concurred. “Things are peaceful now that those kids are gone.”

Jha Heya lifted an eyebrow. “Kids? Grace is 30-something and Ben, Terra and Charlie are all dancin’ around 50-something. You must be feeling old.”

Red Fox nodded slightly, he eyes on the forest as well. “Mebbe. I’d given up on Ben for sure.”

Jha Heya nodded. “Understandable, after all those years of resistance. Now that he’s suitably humble, how do you feel?”

Red Fox was silent for several moments. Then he sighed. “Stretched. Have to forgive him, you know, and now that he’s sincerely asking for guidance and teaching, have to give it.”

“So?” Jha Heya repeated, then waited.

Red Fox snorted. “Now I have to deal with my own resistance to teaching him, my own anger at the wasted years.” He set the coffee cup on the planks of the porch, then smacked his right fist into his left palm. “My own judgment that the years were wasted.” He turned to gaze at Jha Heya. “There’s always more work to do. Damned kid. He’s stretched me plenty.”

Jha Heya smiled but his eyes were compassionate. “Don’t worry, my friend. If it weren’t Ben Boyce stretching you, it would be someone or something else. Growing is never done.”

Red Fox nodded. “I just hope what I taught him will be enough. I suppose we should have expected big trouble, but the slime stayed hidden for so long it was hard to gauge what they were up to.”

Jha Heya placed a reassuring hand on Red Fox’s shoulder. “The Protectors have their work cut out for them. That’s clear. And the enemy is deadly.”

Red Fox laid a hand over his friend’s that still rested on his shoulder. “Yes. The Slavemasters care nothing for life of any kind. Death. Destruction. They’ll resort to whatever violence reinforces their control.”

He was silent a moment, thinking. “It’s probably better that these youngsters don’t yet get that every living thing on the planet is depending on them.”

The Shaman Chronicles, Book 1, Protectors of the Grid

Previously the Energy Unveiled series, Book 1,
The Crystalline Vision

Start the saga! Get your copy here: amazon.com/author/barbarasnow

 

Chilling prophetic warnings or chill-producing suspense tales?

You decide. But First…

It’s a Makeover – Ta Da!

A new look, a new feel, with the same heart-stirring stories inside!

That’s how it works, right? In a great makeover, you get to see the outside come into alignment with the inside. In movies and on TV, someone with a heart of gold – smart, funny, insightful, kind – loses the glasses, changes the hair, dons different clothing, maybe a little makeup, and Voila! The world can see the truth of what was always there!

The Energy Unveiled shamanic suspense series
has had a makeover.

Like makeovers onscreen, each story is unchanged – exciting and thought-provoking as always – and the new covers and titles will make it easier for folks to recognize the nature of the story inside.

         Ready?

                  Deep breath…

                           Drum roll, please!

The Energy Unveiled series proudly announces its new identity as… 

The Shaman Chronicles!

Shamans live among us.

– normal-appearing people who work in many dimensions
– whose magic changes events and redirects destinies.

The Protectors are Shamans from different traditions who share their gifts and strengths to heal Nature and restore humans as free beings. 

The Slave Masters operate in the shadows, using their powers to alter events and destinies to their own favor. Their only concerns: money and power. Nobody knows who they are, but they’re no longer afraid of exposure.

Could their next attack mean eternal servitude?

The Shaman Chronicles – chilling prophetic warnings or chill-producing suspense tales? Follow The Protectors in each book as they battle for earth and humanity in The Shaman Chronicles.

 The Crystalline Vision, Book 1, reborn April 27th as Protectors of the Grid!

At first CyberShark was a lark – a cool, high-tech game. As CEO, Ben flexed his Matt Damon swagger and cocky grin and charmed investors. His gift for gab didn’t hurt, either.

It was still a lark when the tidal wave of money rolled in.

It stopped being fun when the Beta test flopped and Ben realized he was completely on the hook for the whole damn project. Worse, this failure involved not just science – not his forté – but quantum science, the modern explanation for how spiritual practices affect the whole, bloody universe. Where the hell should he even start?

Wait! Terra! His crazy cousin was always lighting candles and burning sage. Hadn’t she even traveled places to do retreats, quests, or something? Would she still be mad at him for yanking her chain when they were teenagers? Maybe, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I’m Terra Kano. I was a Sheriff’s Detective until my cousin Ben’s panicked call for help. I was shocked. Ben always dissed my magic, but now his new technology won’t work without it – the magic of pure intention and humility, that is. Ben’s life and fortune don’t mean diddly squat now that the Slave Masters are after his invention. If Ben doesn’t master spiritual magic, we’re toast. Every human on the planet could be enslaved…forever!

I have to help him, right? <sigh> So let’s do this thing!”

Protective Force, Book 2, re-emerges May 11th,
as Protectors of the Path!

“I’m Terra Kano. I was burned out with police work after the last serial killer, so I was ready when asked to be a Protector. But Valerie Brooks? President of the USA?

She doesn’t know if the soldiers who took her are helping her escape or holding her hostage!

Neither do the Protectors, but we’re sticking close ’til we’re sure!”

Those of you clamoring for Book 3 will be happy to know that it will be launched May 26th

as Protectors of the Waters!

Water is the new oil.

Not because there’s not enough. There’s enough – for now – but the Slave Masters are out to control it all. And the way they’re making it scarce is by ruining it.

No water, no humans. No life of any kind.

Unless the Water Protectors intervene to save us.

Surprise! Book 4, Protectors of the Gifts, is incubating beautifully, birthdate TBD.

There’s more to come – fun and games, freebies and chances to share with friends who love great stories.

On another front, I’m posting occasional Reflections that you might enjoy on Medium.org. Catch a couple here:

https://medium.com/@barbarasnow/i-have-a-unique-relationship-with-my-pendulum-1d4598432332

https://medium.com/@barbarasnow/a-different-kind-of-meditation-3ee3e69a78a7

 

More New and Good Stuff!

Moments of Magic are daily, one-minute Messages based on what’s happening energetically and recorded on Facebook Live. They may give you a break, an insight, a giggle, or a bit of encouragement.

If you miss it live, go here:

https://www.barbarasnow.com/daily-blessings

 

 

 

I’m Baaaack – & Other Exciting News!

I’m B-a-a-a-c-k!

I’ve been back from the pilgrimage to Bolivia and Lake Titicaca for over three weeks now. I’ve been holding it close, cherishing the sensations and the shifts, feeling the changes. So much happened. So many details to remember and see for the first time. The shifts in energy and the bonding with fellow travelers. The synchronicities that added a soap bubble sheen to “ordinary” experiences. The magic hidden in “ordinary” experiences.

The reverence in my heart demands that I honor it all now in retrospect as we honored the process while we were in it. Each day’s ceremony built the magic and the momentum. Now I am integrating all the layers of experience and transformation that have become part of me.

I’m not hiding! 

Many years ago, after I served as an auxilio in a San Pedro ceremony, the maestro who led the ceremony smiled and gently commented, “You showed yourself.” I hadn’t thought I was hiding, didn’t intend to. During the ceremony I had merely given the role the best I could, holding the sanctity so that others could be safe in their process. Maybe that’s the way it works. We’re not aware there’s more there until we step into it.

Soon…

I want to share. I will share. But it’s not quite time. What is more important right now is the evidence in my life of how I’m different. I want you to be on the lookout for that. 

I’m not going to tell you what to look for. It will be more valuable to us all if you zoom in on it yourself. But please, please, please, tell me what you see or sense and why. Just jot a note in the comments section of my blog page. Make this a quick and easy exercise in what qualities you’d like to add to your own life and how you can do that. Maybe it will remind you of your own transformational pilgrimage or process.

Sister Ceremonialists Jari Holland Buck and Lynne Klippel with me at Killa Rumioque.

Incredible Lightness of Being 

Energetically speaking, I came home lighter than I left. Sometimes, in the last few weeks, I feel so free and light, I think I could lift off. That does not preclude feeling exhausted or even sick, but it sure feels good. 

I awake in the mornings feeling mostly blessed, rich and happy for the day. The whiny voices in my head seem to have grown tired of being ignored. Nothing they say scares me anymore. Contentment is too real. Guess they moved on in search of another target.

I’ve maintained rituals I enjoyed on the pilgrimage – recording significant points by hand in a special journal, drawing a card from my Voyager deck – and they serve me just as well here at home.

Exciting News about Sacred Work

I have a new, incredibly beautiful, permanent mesa in my loft. Its steady heartbeat sends loving vibrations out into the world and enhances the flow of energy into my life. The community of khuyas (sacred objects – khuyar is the Quechua verb “to love”) I brought back is well-bonded and already working. My pre-Pilgrimage mesa is well-rooted and -seasoned. The khuyas will tell me when they are ready to cross-pollinate. Meanwhile, the energy around here is both stabilizing and ramping up in a most delightful way.

Some of these khuyas will be assigned to a traveling mesa that will anchor sacred energies into the places where I will hold healing ceremonies in the coming year. Following Spirit’s persistent call, I have a good venue, an enthusiastic hostess, and an eager assistant. The first will be a Soul Retrieval ceremony. The second ceremony will be Completing Soul Contracts.  The Third will be about Grief as Gratitude: Honoring what was beloved that is lost.

Exciting News about Storymaking (Books)

Book 3 of my shamanic suspense/magical realism series is fully birthed and out to Beta readers. Book 4 is becoming quite…er…vociferous. Writing the way that works for me is sort of like channeling dimensional probabilities. Stories start talking. I listen. Which one has the most energy? What seems the most likely – or unlikely – thing to happen next? 

My stories feel like a type of visioning, too. How can I translate firsthand experience of the difference it makes in our lives when we live in a sacred way? Our lives are different when we have visceral evidence of our relationships with the unseen. 

It’s a lie that 3D reality is all there is, a lie that makes people behave differently than they would if they knew the kind of love and help that are available to anyone and everyone who wants it. 

Next year Books 1 and 2 will be reborn. We have a brand-spanking new series name, new titles, and sizzling new covers. Book 3, in its very own sizzling new cover, will launch with appropriate fanfare shortly after, with Book 4 hot on its heels.

Details coming. 

Heh heh. You didn’t think I was going to give away all the goodies right up front, did you? Stay tuned for the next installment!

When Writers Conference

Any art form is essentially solitary work. The best offerings emerge from the depths of the artist’s soul. After a great creative session, one feels drained, tired and happy, because all that tumultuous emotion is now pinned to the page. In the best of all possible worlds, the artist then can reconnect with other artists, people who understand the process and have similar passions. A conference is rather like a family reunion, once you’ve made friends.

This year the Cuenca International Writers’ Conference was five days of building friendships and trying to capture all the insights, inspiration and encouragement offered. It’s inspiring to meet authors of multiple best-selling books who are humble, approachable, and supportive. There were a number of authors like that presenting workshops on the craft and business of writing. Every one of them shared their struggles as well as their triumphs and related peer to peer with folks at different stages of the process.

Our keynote speaker was Mark Sullivan, author of 18 books, many best-sellers, including Beneath a Scarlett Sky, soon appearing on the Big Screen.

 

Mark’s talks stressed the importance not only of finding our own most effective way to write and market, but the rituals to support us. His personal rituals include 1) meditation, 2) body workout, and 3) focused gratitude – all before writing. And frequent breaks to get blood and oxygen flowing again. Apparently the brain can focus effectively for only 45 – 90 minutes. He got us moving to untie the muscle knots and get oxygen to our brains.

As a long-time fan of the HeartMath Institute (https://www.heartmath.org/) , I appreciated his reminders of the power of integrating mind and heart for fresh thinking, creativity and effective living.

Speaking to the quality of our writing, Mark led us in an exercise to embody emotions. Then we shared how we could show what’s happening in a scene so that our readers can draw their own conclusions about what characters are up to. “Respect your readers’ intelligence!” I was instructed to embody curiosity, while Chris embodied shame. When you go into your body and into the moment, there’s so much to learn.

The value of a conference is how it affects you after the event. I can tell you that in the days since this conference, ideas are flooding in, along with clarity about what’s next, and what’s after that. Shhhhhh.

There’s going to be another volume in the Energy Unveiled series entitled Godlets Arise.

The new series – The Strategic Sisterhood of Divine Disorder – will feature some of your favorite characters from the Energy Unveiled series.

There is another new series birthing: The Temple: Stories of a Sexual Healing Sisterhood.

And there are more recommendations, giveaways and freebies coming soon!

Mark Sullivan is only one of the inspiring presenters who gave us fuel for the future. You can go to the conference website here – http://cuencawritersconference.com/ – to see the list of presenters along with an abundance of delightful photographs. A lot of people worked really hard last year to bring this expanded conference into being. From all who attended, our heartfelt gratitude for this gathering of the clan and high hopes for what next year will bring.

I’m still glowing from autographing books and feeling like a real, honest-to-goodness, successful author. Selling books and connecting with supportive and encouraging peers builds one’s confidence. And writing the next book is simply another stage in an author’s personal growth. Remember –

Consciousness structures thought.
Thought structures language.
Language structures reality.

In other words – words matter.

 

 

“Friend or foe?” Ben asked.

“Could be either,” Kale replied.

Lila, the Mo’o, is an important character in The Crystalline Vision, and a most unusual one. A Mo’o is a mythical being unique to the Hawaiian Islands. An article in Maui Magazine describes them this way.

“Most moʻo of legend are female, shapeshifters capable of appearing as beautiful maidens or water dragons. They dwell in caves, pools, and fishponds and are fierce guardians of freshwater sources. According to nineteenth-century Hawaiian historian Samuel Kamakau, when fires were lit on altars near their homes, the moʻo would appear: twelve- to thirty-foot-long reptiles, black as night, glistening in the water.”

Shapeshifter? Now we’re talkin’!

Well, you can imagine what happened next. She no sooner had my attention than Lila started talking. First she described mo’os in general – a dragon-like lizard up to 30 feet long or – a beautiful, seductive woman. In either form she can act as protector or destroyer.

Lila said that in her lizard form, her teeth are gigantic, like a tyrannosaurus rex,

but that her body is more like an iguana.

 

When she shapeshifts into a woman…

 

…Lila appears as a beautiful, seductive islander.

Poor Ben. Lila, the Mo’o is attached to him for better or for worse, like an animal spirit guide, or like those old cartoons in which an angel sits on one shoulder, a devil on the other, arguing their cases.

Ultimately, Lila makes Ben face his choices. It’s not easy. He’s resisted acknowledging everything invisible his whole life, and as CEO of the hottest tech company in town, he’s invested in the delusion. That won’t work for Lila, the Crystalline Grid, or the CyberShark investors. Ben must face what he finds inside and choose who he will be. If he makes the wrong choice? That wonderful CyberShark technology could turn from being a gift to humanity to being the instrument of its destruction!

 

The Crystalline Vision is available now with it’s original title and cover. It will be reborn April 27th as Protectors of the Grid, Book 1 of The Shaman Chronicles, available here now: https://tinyurl.com/CrystallineVision.

 

 

 

Although all books in the series are complete in themselves, your favorite characters continue their adventures in Protective Force,  available here:  https://tinyurl.com/ProtectiveForce. Book 2 will be reborn May 11th as Protectors of the Path, Book 2 of The Shaman Chronicles, 

 

 

 

 

And – for the first time in any dimension – Book 3, Protectors of the Water, will launch May 26th!

Stay tuned to learn how to preorder your copy.

 

Real News! Important Announcement! It’s a…

 

It’s a girl! Nope!    It’s a boy! Uh uh! 

 

A desert tortoise? An Elk? A horse? A chicken? A grey horned heidschnucke? An antelope? A storm trooper?

 

NOPE!

It’s a… It’s a… It’s a…a… 

Ta Da!  

It’s a BOOK! 

Not just any book, though.

 

The Crystalline Vision is born!

And everybody is already reading it.

 

See what I mean?

Just how great is this story?

Well, how’s about this?

“What happens when good intentions and the right emotional vibration must align to harness the power of Earth’s energetic grid?  A multi-billion dollar tech company with eyes-in-the-sky potential – and a panicked CEO! And now that CEO, Ben Boyce, has a hostile government after him, one that is willing to kill for those secrets! Will Ben change from a skeptic to a believer before he loses everything? Will he be strong enough to protect the technology and keep it from destroying humanity?”

And this is just Book 1 of the Energy Unveiled series!

“The Energy Unveiled series forges through scenarios in which mystical interplay produces profound effects on ordinary reality, like The Da Vinci Code, Carlos Castenada’s Don Juan series, and the books of The Celestine Prophecy.

Woo hoo! Get your copy here:

https://tinyurl.com/CrystallineVision