- Excerpt
CONTINUUM
by Marlys Beider
INTRODUCTION
CONTINUUM is the fictional tale of twin souls born minutes
apart in separate cities -- souls who share a spiritual ancestry that
extends well beyond psychic powers. At age 27, these female visionaries
learn of an impending biological terror attack against the United States.
Together, they must use their unique gifts to stop the attack as authorities
work to capture the terrorists.
The excerpt below takes place in
New Orleans and details the beginning of a necessary "affair" between
visionary Angela Atwood and Hakan Ozturk, a brilliant scientist who
is secretly involved with an Islamic terrorist organization while working
with the CIA. Angela must use her mysterious powers on Ozturk in order
to alter his deadly plan and protect the United States from biological
disaster.
More information about the book, CONTINUUM and author Marlys
Beider follows the excerpt. Enjoy!
Beyond Psychic Powers
by Marlys Beider
Angela drove faster than anyone else on Interstate 10. She realized
that with her jovial chatter she was able to loosen up her fellow passenger
and engage him in animated conversation, but also noticed that his hands
were tightly clasped around his knees and that his knuckles were white.
It was obvious that Hakan never before sat in a sports car traveling
at high speed.
"You can relax. We're almost there." Angela smiled at him.
With her right hand, she patted his white knuckles."Relax," she
said again. "I've never had an accident -- you're perfectly safe.
After all, I have big plans with you."
The Pontchartrain Hotel was a longtime local landmark. Even though it
was a little worn at the edges, it still provided old-world gentility
and plenty of elegance.
"I hope you have a weakness for faded grandeur," Angela laughed
when she dropped him in front of the hotel. "But I think you'll
find this hotel as charming as I do. The Pontchartrain has lured dignitaries
from all over for years; you'll be in good company."
"How soon will I have to be ready?" Hakan
handed his light-weight bag to the porter.
"I don't live far. I'll drop
off my car and swing by in a taxi in fifteen minutes. I hope you're
hungry because I'm starving!"
The late-lunch crowd at Tujague's
was still in full swing when they arrived. As with most of her favorite
places, Angela didn't need a reservation. The chef rushed over as soon
as he heard she was there. "Angela,
ma chère, I almost did not recognize you; another new hair color,
another new style. You're full of surprises. Mais, as always very becoming
and très chic."
After Angela introduced Hakan she
pointed at her stomach."This
needs some serious filling up. What can you do about that, Gaspard?"
During the next hour Angela successfully encouraged the skeptical Hakan
to help her feast on fried crawfish tails, oysters, gumbo, baked garlic,
and 'Bonne Femme' chicken. She talked about her friendship with many
of the local restaurateurs, her strong connection to the various blues
and jazz artists in the clubs, and her fascination about the multitude
of writers in New Orleans. Even though she was not a writer, she often
got invited to literary meetings or readings by captivating new authors.
"For centuries New Orleans has been a mecca for writers and their
work," she explained.
"William Faulkner, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tennessee Williams, Truman
Capote, and many more... they've all lived and worked here." She
saw that Hakan was hanging onto her every word. "Some of our native
authors have made it to stardom with their novels. Have you read Anne
Rice, Chris Wiltz, Nancy Lemann...?" She stopped when she saw him
blush and shake his head.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Atwood. I've only heard about some of these famous
people. I'm ashamed to admit, I never took the time to read anything
other than material related to my research, studies, and work." His
eyes shifted to his plate and he poked at the last few pieces of food. "Perhaps
I've been too dedicated to only one cause."
"Look, you're a brilliant scientist
and you have your own agenda. Most people wouldn't be able to follow
your line of work, nor would they understand your intense ambition."
"What do you mean?"
"Your research is so sophisticated
and uncertain. The majority of people only become intrigued when the
results are ready to be put to use. They're not interested in the tedious
years of studies, but always are grateful when a cure for another disease
is found."
She saw him staring at her and held his gaze. She wanted to grab his
hand and get the full benefit of his innermost thoughts, but for now
she was content with what she sensed.
The subject of conversation became lighter again after a taste of the
chef's famous bread pudding.
It was almost four in the afternoon
when they left the restaurant. They started a walking tour through
the French Quarter with Bourbon Street. Angela did not care much for
the many T-shirt stores and early drunks who came swaying out of the
rows of bars, but she allowed plenty of time when she saw Hakan's fascination,
especially in the bustling activity of Jackson Square. They stopped
and listened to every musician, laughed with the crowd during the entertainment
from street performers, smiled with the mimes, marveled at the peculiar "living statues," and
paid compliments to the artists while admiring their drawings or paintings.
Angela could see that Hakan's hard shell had started to soften.
They walked by the expensive antique shops on Royal Street and looked
into other interesting stores on Chartres and Decatur streets. Angela
gave a running commentary of the origin of the historic buildings, the
Cathedral, and the memorials in The Quarter before finally taking a break
at the Central Grocery. They sat on the riverbank, finishing their ice-cold
drinks.
When Angela saw Hakan wiping his
damp face with his cotton handkerchief, she said, "The summer turns this city into a gigantic steam bath
-- very hydrating for the skin." She was used to the heat and humidity. "Look
at me. My hair got liberated and went from the confines of styled straightness
to its natural unruliness of curls and waves." She saw the desire
in his eyes and took his hand so his fingers could touch her soft hair. "It's
just another mystery of this city." She smiled when she saw his
face redden.
After walking through the French Market, Angela suggested a stroll through
Woldenberg's Riverfront Park. As Hakan admired the greenery in the heart
of the city, they stopped on the Moonwalk at the Mississippi and sat
on a bench to watch the busy port of New Orleans.
On the way back to the hotel, Hakan
thanked Angela. "I have not
once thought about my work at PIGR," he admitted. "This is
a whole new world for me."
"It's only the beginning," Angela promised. "I'll
pick you up at nine tonight. That'll give you enough time to freshen
up, rest your feet, and build a new appetite for something really special."
She watched as he slowly walked toward the hotel entrance. He turned
around three times, smiled, and waved his hand.
"There'll be a rocky road ahead for
both of us." Her lips
barely moved as she saw him disappear through the door. Even though her
visions had become much clearer during the day, there still was vagueness
-- almost as if she were looking through an out-of-focus lens. Despite
knowing of his deadly intentions, she felt sorry for him and his destiny. "You're
going to be held captive by besotted love," she sighed, stepping
on the gas pedal. "It's the only way you will open up to me; it's
the only way to prevent the ultimate tragedy."
Copyright ©2005
by Marlys Beider. All Rights Reserved. Please feel free to duplicate
and distribute this file as long as the contents are not changed and
this copyright notice is intact. Thank you.
