There are two items on this page

 

Excerpt from The Psionic Man +Excerpt From Turnbull's Slaves

ExcerptTurnbull's Slaves

Excerpt fromThe Psionic Man

 

      Al Rice was awakened by a strange whining noise. He raised his head and listened, but after a few moments of  silence he decided he must have been dreaming and lowered his head to the pillow. But before he could close his eyes and return to sleep, an eerie feeling came over him. He felt compelled to get up and investigate.

     He was not the type to worry about noises in the night. Though he felt it was needless, the urge to check out the strange sound was strong. He got up, threw on his robe, and stepped outside. He looked up to see a glowing cigar-shaped object hovering over his cottage.

*****

     The alarm clock went off. Al groped for the clock and switched it off. As he became fully awake, he shuddered as he felt a powerful charge of energy surging through his body. A feeling of well-being and contentment came over him, but at the same time he was perplexed. He did not understand what was happening to him.

     As he lay there, he puzzled over this wonderful, invigorating feeling that had come over him. In a flash it came to him; he knew what had happened. The wave of energy that swept through his system had purged his body of all impurities. He was no longer HIV positive. He was no longer plagued with hemophilia, the condition that had led to HIV.

     He knew all this with certainty; there was not the slightest doubt in his mind. His body had healed itself, though he did not know how it happened. Nor did he know how he knew all this. He just knew it.

     He had heard somewhere that the body sometimes mysteriously heals itself, leaving doctors puzzled. But that didn't matter to him. What really mattered was the fact that he was healed and that he was a new man.

Feeling elated, he climbed out of bed. In a state of euphoria, he went through his morning routine. He showered, and as he readied to shave, he studied his reflection in the mirror.

     Yes, there was definitely a change. He turned his head from side to side as he looked into the mirror. His deep set blue eyes had lost their dull appearance and were brighter. There was no longer a pallor to his skin, which now showed a healthy glow. Even his nut brown hair showed more luster.

     But he noted that the slight bump on his once-broken nose was still there, as was the small scar on his left cheek. He chuckled to himself. What the hell did he expect? A smile played on his lips as he applied the shaving cream to his square jaw and prominent chin.

     But at one point he paused for just for an instant; he had a vague recollection of a dream. It had something to do with being aboard an alien spacecraft. He chuckled at such a foolish notion, shrugged, and soon forgot about it.

     He fixed a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, and  pancakes, a far cry from his usual toast and coffee. He finished breakfast, and as he sipped his coffee, he stared out the kitchen window. In the gray light of dawn, he could see the placid waters of Lake Lorene, surrounded by  pines with a smattering of cypress and oaks. In the stillness of the morning, the water was like a mirror, reflecting white fluffy clouds and a flight of geese flying overhead.

     He saw his bait, tackle, and boat rental shop on the lake shore, only a hundred yards distant from his cottage. He was jolted back to the reality that he still had to run his business. The tourist season was coming to an end in Central Florida, but business would be brisk for another week or two.

     Savoring the fresh morning air, he felt exhilarated as he walked over a carpet of pine straw through a clearing in the surrounding trees on the way to the shop. He looked out to the end of the dock to check the rental boats tied there. They were all there, the outboards and a few rowboats, which some fishermen still preferred.

     He saw two men sitting in a parked car, apparently waiting for the shop to open. He entered the shop and prepared for the day's business. He checked his phone for messages and found that his order of rods and reels were in the mail. He hung up his "OPEN" sign and was ready for the day.

The two men entered and rented an outboard for the day. They also ordered three six packs of beer, two large bags of potato chips, and a container of night crawlers.

     After the men left, he made a mental note that he would call Dr. Berman today for an appointment. Although he knew he was healed of his affliction, he wanted an official confirmation of the healing, and he wanted the world to know  

 

     Two weeks passed. Al was cleaning up and getting ready to close shop when the phone rang.

     He answered and a  woman spoke with a slight Spanish accent. "Mr. Rice, my name is Sue Martinez. I'm a UFO investigator, and I represent CAPS, The Council for Aerial Phenomena Studies. We're in Albuquerque."

     Al, thinking this was another telemarketer, was ready to hang up. But he held the phone a moment longer as the voice went on.

     "I read about you in the news, and I would like very much to discuss your experience with you. I may have an explanation about your healing experience."

     The woman now had his attention. The many tests and examinations that he had endured confirmed that he was no longer hemophilic, nor was he HIV positive. Dr. Berman was thoroughly baffled and amazed, and was never able to explain how Al's healing had come about.

     Al was curious about what explanations the UFO people might have. Actually, he was more than a little curious. For reasons that he did not understand, he felt a strange compulsion to learn how his experience might be connected with UFOs. That he was interested in any possible connection with UFOs puzzled him, for he had always scoffed at anything to do with them.

     "Ms. Martinez..."

     "Please call me Sue."

     "Okay, and I'm Al. I'd like to hear what you have to say."

     "Great. And I don't think you'll be disappointed. Will you agree to a meeting if I come down to Florida next Monday?"

     "That'll be fine with me. I'll be looking for you." 

     He gave her the directions to the nearby Lake Lorene Motel, then to his cottage, and they ended the conversation.  After hanging up, he called Pete, his part-time helper, and arranged for Pete to run the shop that Monday.

 

End of excerpt

*****

Excerpt from Turnbull's Slaves 

 

The clouds broke up and a pale moon shone through. "I would love to stay here all night with you," he said, "but it is growing late and you must work tomorrow. We don't want to jeopardize your job in the mansion."

"Please. Can I go with you, my darling? I only want to be with you. My parents are still urging me to change my mind and marry Antony. Please take me with you."

"I wish it could be," he said, "but it is too risky. There are too many dangers; snakes and wild animals. And if Turnbull's people happen to find us, it will be more difficult for two of us to elude them. If they caught us, we both would be whipped and chained. Be patient and pray, and maybe your parents will change their mind. Now we must worry about getting the new governor's help. Let's hope it is true that  he is not  friends with Turnbull.   Now go back before you are missed."

"I don't know when I will find another opportunity to come here," she said. "How can we meet again?"

"There won't be many opportunities, and we must accept that. I can't expect Chucuraha to be around whenever I want him. When he makes another visit to trade, I'm hoping Father Camps will contact him. We must depend on those two, and that will be chancy."

After a passionate goodbye, he watched her go until she disappeared behind a building. As he turned to leave, he heard a male voice.

"You there. What are you doing out here?"

He recognized the voice. It was Louis Pouchentine, a Corporal with a brutal reputation--the one who had the young boy stoned to death.

Anita's voice came in reply. "I couldn't sleep, and was taking a walk."

"Wait. I know you. You're the Usina girl…Anita. They say you are chummy with Miguel…you meeting him out here?"

Miguel started moving toward the sound of their voices.

"No. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't believe you. Good thing Turnbull has us doing night patrols. He thinks Miguel might be alive and hiding near here."

"No…no. I'm just walking because I can't sleep."

"Alright. I won't say anything about this if we can have a little fun together."

"No. Please. Let me go."

Miguel rounded the corner of the building and saw Anita struggling with Pouchentine. He Ran toward them, and Pouchentine turned when he heard the sound of his footsteps. Pouchentine's mouth flew open and he fumbled for the pistol on his belt. But Miguel was quicker as he lunged forward with his knife. It was over in a matter of seconds. Pouchentine lay still on the ground, mortally wounded by a stab in the heart.

Anita gasped, but she was not alarmed, for she had seen death many times in the fields. "What are we going to do now?"

"Go back to the mansion and forget what you have seen. I'll figure out what to do with the body."

 

End of excerpt

 

*****

 

Turnbull's Slaves available at Amazon here                                                   The Psionic Man Available at Amazon  here

 

Both books are available at Riverok Books

 

Return to home page