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  • Format: ePub

Doreen didn't seem to know what she was doing ever since that jeweled pendant arrived. Her mind literally wasn't her own - completely.
Her day-dreams and nightmares kept taking her to foreign lands - the same exact location.
The cryptic messages that came with the pendant didn't explain anything, but just deepened the mystery. Why was it "her turn" to own this jewel - or did it own her?
Decoding the jewel and its message lead her to the reclusive professor in an inherited lighthouse. And five ghosts she would have to persuade to help her decipher that jeweled pendant's
…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Doreen didn't seem to know what she was doing ever since that jeweled pendant arrived. Her mind literally wasn't her own - completely.

Her day-dreams and nightmares kept taking her to foreign lands - the same exact location.

The cryptic messages that came with the pendant didn't explain anything, but just deepened the mystery. Why was it "her turn" to own this jewel - or did it own her?

Decoding the jewel and its message lead her to the reclusive professor in an inherited lighthouse. And five ghosts she would have to persuade to help her decipher that jeweled pendant's clues.

According to the professor, she only needed to bribe them.

By this time, Doreen took that challenge in stride...

Excerpt:

There was this statue that was surrounded by forest. One side of it was black and the other white. It glowed and seemed to move in her dream. She sat, captivated and unable to move, waiting for it to speak and tell her the truth of all existence. In her dream the skies darkened and the rain stormed around her, but she just sat. The thunder increased until it sounded like it was right behind her - she finally tore her eyes away from the statue to see a wall of water rise way over her head.

And she always woke at that point, drenched in her own perspiration.

It was that jewelry someone had sent her. Some ancient relative who visited her East Coast parent's home once or twice when she was small. The note said that it was her time now to care for this jewelry. That if she ever felt she needed to know more about it, just to visit this valley - and then told the directions to get there.

Doreen had kept the note out of curiosity. It had been written on hand-made paper, in dialect-ridden English with what looked to be a fountain pen or maybe even a cut quill - but definitely from free ink, not a ball point or something else. The person had taken the time to create that message which seemed an anachronism of crafting in these times.

Along with that, two people actually each wrote a second note. The original author was a relative she had never met, who actually had been the jewelry's owner all this time. Well, it was an heirloom she had gotten in turn from an ancient relative of hers. The second author was her great-grand-niece, who added in a postscript that her aunt had told her to get this to me just before she died. Some cryptic comment about she had gotten a dream that I was the next in line. And this second author had put their note in with the package to send it to me. It was also her handwriting on the label.

Of course the jewelry was incredible. A small carefully matched set of stones, one-half white and one-half black. So tightly finished that it looked as if it were a single stone. All tied together with platinum and gold wires, braided in an endless band around them. A simple leather thong went through the top of it, long enough to hang around her neck.

When Doreen put it on, she noticed that the thong was too long and actually hung down between her breasts. So she untied it and trimmed the leather to make it fit higher and show off it's beauty. Then she put it back in the hand-carved box it was sent in, as she didn't often "go native" when she went out dining with friends. She did like the feel of it and so picked it up later that day just to see how it was made, then put it around her neck with the idea of seeing what she had that would match it.

The odd thing was that the leather thong was now again the same length as she originally received it...

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Autorenporträt
J. R. has always been interested in the strange, mysterious, and wonderful. Writing speculative fiction is perfect for him, as he's never fit into any mold. And always been working to find the loopholes in any "pat system."

Writing parables for Living Sensical seemed a simpler way to help his stories come to life.