Gift or Curse?


Mark was travelling by coach on the long journey to meet his estranged wife to try and sort out amicably their divorce. He met Michaela whilst on the coach, which ended with them having a relationship, but what he didn't know, in the beginning anyhow, was she could sometimes see visions when she touched an object or by the shaking of someone's hand. Her mind's eye would be blinded by a searing white light and as the light gradually dissipated she would see the vision as clear as day. 

She touched Mark's hand then bang! The white out happened. She called it a curse; her mother called it a gift. She couldn't tell Mark what she had seen but he knew something was wrong, what had she seen…?

The occult ran in the family as Michaela's mother was a Tarot card reader or was she…?

Marks wife was leading a double life. On the surface a high flying city executive reaching for the top or was she…?

The reader will be taken through twists and turns of the secret services including MI6, CIA, MOSSAD and the KGB which is not apparent in the beginning; no one is who they say they are, intrigue and double agents abound.

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About the Author

Author Name : Roger Rapel

     Born in the late 40's only a few years after the second world finished with all the hardships of rationing, cold houses windows running with condensation with frost forming on the inside as well as the outside, living in one room for heat. Growing up in the 50's with little or none of the modern comforts of today's modern world, my brother and sister were happy well as happy as you could be. I worked in various organizations including PO as a steward on cruise liners (I must write about that) then on the buildings picking bits of skills here and there and became a jack of all trades certainly master of none. Then joined the police stayed for 30 years mainly as a detective Sergeant dealing with all manner of criminal cases including child abuse rape cases and murder.

Book Of The Day

Latest Poem

  A gentle breeze blows in the warm summer air, 
     pebbles and sand beneath my feet.
          An ocean mist sprays my face
            as I uncover my nakedness.
         A gentle breeze against my skin.
           If only Love could find me
         the way the sea wants to take me in.
           Salty water rushes to shore, 
         knocking my skinny body down
                to the soft sand below.

    Cool water rushes round my tender skin.
  One naked soul hidden only by the foam 
        of the waves under a dim moonlit night.

   A cool rush frees my soul as I run back to shore,
     refreshed by nature in the warm summer air.
          Standing naked among pebbles and sand.
                 If only Love could find me 
                 standing here at the shore.

            S.M. Jordan 2004


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