Showing posts with label neurolinguistic programming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neurolinguistic programming. Show all posts
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Presenting Mind Over Psyche by Karina Fabian
Book Two of the Mind Over trilogy
Deryl’s supposed to save their world—but can he save his own sanity?
Deryl isn’t crazy; he’s psychic. Desperate to escape the insane asylum, Deryl teleports to Kanaan, a world of telepaths who regard him as an oracle. The Kanaan expect their oracle to teach them to wage war. He falls in love, but to be with her means to share his psyche, which could drive her insane. Most dangerous of all the Master, enemy of the Kanaan, would will forge Deryl’s powers into a weapon to kill all he loves or destroy his mind trying.
Read on for a chance to win this exciting new adventure as an ebook.
EXCERPT:
He found himself in the small glen Tasmae had imagined for them the first time they’d actually “spoken” together in the Netherworld. The canopy of branches and leaves shrouded them in privacy. It cut off the view of the sky, yet somehow there was plenty of light to see by. It didn’t matter; Deryl only cared about seeing one thing.
“Tasmae!”
She ran to him, and they embraced. Then he pulled away. “Terry said I’d hurt you—”
She touched her fingers to his lips, and he understood that Terry didn’t know everything, and that the only pain she felt was at their separation.
Then she flooded into his mind, and where she touched, waves of cool healing washed over his psychic wounds. He sighed with relief, and actually swayed a little. She caught him, and he wrapped his arms around her, first for support, then for something far more intimate. This time, they would be alone.
A familiar voice, a voice from nightmare, interrupted them.
I WOULDN’T BE SO CERTAIN ABOUT THAT.
As one, they turned toward the intruder and blanched.
“Alugiac?”
“Master!”
They turned and stared at each other. They knew him?
The Master, once known on Kanaan as Alugiac, laughed. A triumphant satisfaction flowed from him like the thick fog that was slowly rolling from where he stood at the glen’s edge.
AT LAST I RETURN TO YOU, DERYL—AND LOOK AT THE GIFT YOU’VE BROUGHT ME!
“Tasmae, run!” Deryl shouted. A sword was suddenly in his hand, but though he held it at the ready, he was shaking so hard the blade quivered.
The fog had surrounded them now. The trees, moss, even the rocks had eroded at its touch. Colors fled, leaving them in a gray and black world, with only an indeterminate ground and low fog as landscape.
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