Attacked by a Black Magician…

What is it like to be attacked by a black magician? Well, I wrote a short scene in my novel The Last Observer about a psychic attack on the hero of the story Stanley. My inspiration for this actually came from several sources.

The first is the attack on Frabato the Magician by a satanic lodge in Germany that is recounted in the book of the same name by Franz Bardon (who was an amazing magician by all accounts and who I cover in my latest book – Wizards, Warlocks and Magicians). When I first read that account, I was terrified and it stuck with me for several decades as a crazy example of what it feels like to be attacked by magic. Another inspiration was another deeply influential book in my teen life called The Devil Rides Out by Dennis Wheatley. The final bit of inspiration comes from the book by Magician Dion Fortune called Psychic Self-Defense in which she recounts several examples of attacks by magical and psychic methods. When combined with my own imagination, the following extract shows how this all came together…..

The room was almost as big as his entire flat he thought as he lay down in the huge bed. His hand now throbbed and his face felt sore as he rubbed it gingerly. For Stanley, reality had truly taken on a feeling of being unreal. In a matter of days, hours even, his cozy little world had turned upside down. He had even the target of a shooting! Despite this, simply being a few feet away from Jo had a strangely calming effect on him. “He really ought to be scarred shitless,” he thought to himself, yet he felt somehow serene, and above whatever it was that was going on. He was warm, cozy and…. Wait, he thought, I am really quite warm. He felt his own brow. Did he have the beginnings of a fever? He wasn’t sure, but it did feel awfully hot all of a sudden in the room. Stanley got up and checked the radiator. It was slightly warm. He opened a window and stood in the cold breeze but he was really beginning to feel uncomfortable hot. He took off the T-shirt he had been given and lay on the bed but this didn’t help at all either. He was simply beginning to boil. He stood up and tried walking around the large room but he didn’t just feel hot but suddenly terribly weak as well.

“Jo,” he called rather hoarsely as he also seemed to be having trouble with his throat. It felt constricted as if someone was being strangling him. He was beginning to panic a bit now as the room began slowly rotating and he had to hold on one of the posts on the bed. Something was seriously wrong and getting worse fast, he thought.

“Jo,” he tried to shout the word but all that came out was a strange rasping sound. The room was spinning wildly and Stanley felt faint and near to collapse.

“Stanley, think of the light,” said a voice close by. “Imagine Stanley the light around you.” A hand was touching his forehead and he felt himself pushed down onto the bed.

“Stanley, focus, listen to me Stanley,” said the voice. “FOCUS!”

Stanley was trying to focus but his throat was constricting, he was dripping with sweat and the room was spinning wildly, but there, in front of him every so often, as the room went around, was a vision of beauty. It was Jo. He must be dreaming. A bad dream, he thought to himself.

“FOCUS!” she screamed at him and then slapped him hard across the face.

He tried again. He tried to lock onto her beautiful eyes and to stop the room from spinning.

“Listen to me,” she commanded him. “Listen to me. You must imagine water.”

“Yes, give me water,” he managed to croak.

“No, it would kill you,” she said. “I said imagine water. Imagine you are like a fish surrounded by clear, cooling water. Imagine that you are breathing in the water through your gills and as you do, that the cooling water is taking the heat with it. You breathe in cool water and breathe out hot water as it takes the heat away.”

Stanley was struggling to make sense of this. “She wants him to be a fish and he was dying? Why?”

“Stanley, listen and focus. Concentrate. Breathe water. Breathe it through every pore in your body. Water surrounds you, cold, clear water. Breathe. Imagine.”

“Stanley was a fish,” he decided deliriously. He was a very large fish in a very large tank and through the glass, a beautiful woman was looking at him and speaking but he couldn’t hear the words. He could just see the mouth moving just like a fish might in a tank. Suddenly, Stanley was breathing water like a fish through his gills. It was cold; very cold. But it got hot quickly and he had to spit it out as it was burning his insides it was so hot. Surely, there wasn’t enough water even in his large tank to take all of this heat. He would boil alive.

“That’s it Stanley,” she screamed. “Breathe it in and be surrounded by the water.”

He breathed in and exhaled. Cold, Hot, Cold, Hot. His throat was beginning to feel better and he was definitely feeling less hot. The beautiful vision outside of the fish tank was holding his hands he realized. “Yes, he did have hands despite being a fish,” he marveled.

“Keep it going Stanley. Imagine water. Breathe the water. Don’t stop.”

Stanley was now imagining being in a river. Swimming in a mountain river and the water was foaming all around him rushing by as cold as ice from the melt waters further upstream. He was feeling more and more normal. His temperature was subsiding.

“Ok Stanley, good job,” said Jo.

He realized it was Jo. Somehow, she was swimming with him in the river. No, she was holding his hands so she couldn’t be in a river, and then he was back lying on the four-poster bed with Jo leaning over him holding both of his hands. Her face was determined, her grip was extremely tight, and his hand was hurting like hell.

“Ouch,” he screamed.

“Good. You are back,” said Jo.

“What the hell happened?”

“Relax a bit and keep thinking of the light around you Stanley; an aura of blue-white light protecting you. OK?” said Jo. “Sit up if you can.”

Stanley hauled himself up into a sitting position. “It’s Ok, I feel better now.”

This extract is from The Last Observer available from all good book sellers.

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Don’t Feed Their Greed

There is an election coming up in the UK soon and I won’t be voting. I am entitled to but I won’t – it just encourages them you see.

Seriously. Politicians these days are career Politicians by and large. They have been learning to lie since college many of them with an eye on a lucrative career in politics. They are not in it to help you or me. Just themselves. A politician is close to where money and power lies. One goes with the other. It doesn’t matter if its fiddling expenses, taking back handers for politic favors or just enjoying a privileged lifestyle – they are ALL at it. Everywhere. The system is truly broken because of it. A politician has his hand in the till at its source. Thats how they all seem to retire wealthy. They cheat, lie and steal and they do this saying they are doing it for us or for some ideal. No. They have an ideal alright and it is simply about themselves – their ego, their wallet. So, no, I won’t vote – not for one of those fat cats. Don’t tell me I deserve what I get because its you the voter who gets what he deserves – lies, lies and more lies.

Living in the Czech Republic, you see it even more clearly. People once excited to register their will in an election couldn’t care less because the system changed from one in which you had no say to one in which people pretend that you do. Democracy is a sham full of false and broken promises and the promiscuous cheating of politicians. In the USA, the sham is delivered with Theater but only millionaires run for national office and these days it seems just members of two families. What is the difference between America’s false democracy and Chinese Communism? None except an illusion of freedom and liberty. Here in the Czech Republic a billionaire created a party, bought most of the media and his party came second in the election. He is finance Minister with his eyes on PM. He campaigned on an anti-corruption ticket. I guess people believed him and since he is already so rich, why would he cheat? Well, because the richer people get the richer they want to be. Furthermore, he is suspected of making his billions as an ex-secret police informer and party hack under communism. In short – he is the very essence of corrupt running and lying about corruption.

I won’t vote for people like this. Neither should you. If no one voted at all what would happen? Chaos because the farce would be over. These cheating liars would have no mandate and no basis on which to continue playing games. Instead, lets just use a computer to elect a fair and representative sample of people with REAL experience in all walks of life.

Why wouldn’t that work?

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Lady Luck…

What is the secret formula of success?

I wish I knew. What makes the difference between fame and fortune or not? My guess is it is actually purely luck. It isn’t talent. Lot’s of talented people never find fame or fortune. It isn’t personality – the same applies – there are lots of personalities around. Perhaps it is perserverance?

I really do think you have to have the personality, the talent and perserverance but what really tips the scale is luck. Being the right person at the right time in the right place. Either that or there is a Devil and people really do sell their souls….. actually, the latter wouldn’t surprise me either in some cases.

Can you make your own luck?

I think you probably can through visualization, energy, attention and so on. I haven’t yet discovered the formula myself though or else, well, I’d be famous by now and clearly, I am not. I need a bit of Lady Luck. I need to catch the moment and blow with the wind…..

Meanwhile, I am working hard…….

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Reviews Always Wanted

Yes, I am asking again. If you have read one of my books can I ask you to leave a short review on Amazon? It can be an honest review – good or bad. Reviews are critically important for books and authors and while a book like My Haunted Life Too has sold over 1000 copies, it only has 10 reviews on the Amazon sites!!

Please, do me a favor and write a review. I will even gift you a copy to review if you ask me…

Thanks so much!!!

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Jumping The Queue

Today, I am stood in a queue. I observe that there is a single line for two checks outs and the person at the front of the line selects the check out that first comes free. I am four or five back and I take my position and aimlessly think of nothing. As I get to the front of the line I suddenly think to myself that now it’s just me here, I am sure someone will push past me when the first check out comes free. The thought slipped out before I had a chance to stop it. As soon as it was released I knew…..

The guy behind spotting his opportunity jumped in front of me to the left hand check out. I stood there dismayed. Then I stepped in front of him and said firmly “I was first!” At this point I was mildly amused but his reaction triggered my temper – yes – I have a quick temper. “You were lined up for the other,” he says……. It’s at times like that it is good I am not a competent Magician because if I were … toad city for him at best. However, I explained his mistake as patiently as I could and even the check out girl told him in Czech – “He was first.” As I left, I couldn’t hold on to the two words that left my mouth in his direction beginning with A and ending in E. I couldn’t help it…

I learned a couple of things from this.

First, thoughts are real and do create reality. I had to think it and it immediately happened. You see, I think we are all good at this – I call it conspiracy thinking…. We set up an outlook on life where we expect things to happen a certain way and then they do…. just like a conspiracy theorist who sees his ideas proven at every point.

Second, despite all the work I have done on my quick temper and big mouth. It has not been enough and I need to work harder. For me, this is my biggest flaw and weakness as a human being. To others, it probably is a small speck and they wonder why I don’t see the bloody stick!

Thirdly, people really are A……Es at times aren’t they? See, I could have jumped in front of the person in front of me too but I didn’t and wouldn’t. Not in a million years. I wouldn’t have the nerve if I am honest and more importantly, I’m just not that kind of person. But many are. How come I get to meet them all of the time? (See, there goes my conspiracy theory again!)….

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A Hopelessly Addicted Scribbler

Yesterday, I received an email from one of my readers. He had just read my latest Kindle book and was giving me some feedback. However, he was also asking a question – When will you finish the sequel to The Last Observer? That is a good question actually….

You see, I am an addicted scribbler. I get ideas for books all of the time and off I go pursuing it. Right now, I am working on two ideas simultaneously. One is too early to divulge but it will be a Kindle short ghost stories book – but different! The other came to me last night as I read old blog posts and it is actually almost finished already. I just need to edit, organize and add a bit to it… It will also be a short Kindle book but it will about creating your own reality. Meanwhile, I am deep into writing a new book with my partner on CTRM software in my professional life. Meanwhile, I am editing a second edition of The Mystical hexagram with Sue Vincent.

So, what about that prequel? Well, it is actually half written. I just need to find the time to finish it and I admit, I keep pushing it back down the pecking order as I think of something else to do and the priorities tend to be which will be faster to market…. It may never see the light of day as I keep on dreaming up new ideas and I have fallen in love with the Kindle short format a bit as well. I see it as a way to build an audience so that when the prequel does appear – it actually sells!

The other thing that has changed my focus a bit has been sales. Yes, I am actually selling some books! My Haunted Life Too is now my best selling book with four figure sales. My Haunted Life is not so far behind. The nice thing has been that the popularity of these books also seems to have pulled my other books a bit too. The Last Observer has sold well for the last three months or so and even one or two poetry book sales have been recorded.

Though I will admit to being addicted, having a few sales and a few mailings from readers encouraging me does make it more fun.

The Train Ride

Below is a short story from My Haunted Life – Extreme Edition. It is one of two stories that are unique to the paperback that otherwise includes all of the content of My Haunted Life, My Haunted Life Too and My Haunted Life 3. At 200 pages, it is quite a substantial book and would make a great gift for anyone who enjoys tales of the paranormal and supernatural.

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His head dropped as he once again slipped off in to sleep. Of course, he immediately woke up again, mentally cursing his inability to sleep on a train. He opened his eyes and watched the monotonous eastern European countryside flash by without really registering any of it at all. The carriage reminded him of old black and white movies as it was so ancient and yet, being first class, it was, he had to admit, somewhat luxurious. It had definitely seen better days though, as the carpet was threadbare in the six parallel locations where travellers’ feet would usually sit. It was a carriage in which three people sat facing three other people except today, it was just him and five comfy looking, but very empty, seats.

As the train hurtled onwards he noticed that the carriage lights would occasionally flicker. Even the electrics were showing their age, he thought. Initially, he had searched for a power outlet to charge his phone, but the train must have pre-dated portable electronic devices and it had no power sockets. His phone had subsequently died about 4 hours into this 10-hour journey.

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He fought vainly to keep his eyes open as the rhythmic bumping of the train over the tracks rocked him to sleep. However, the train was beginning to slow and a stop appeared to be in the offing. He woke up a bit and peered into the twilight gloom out of the window. The train stopped briefly in what he could only think of as a village station, as there was just a station house and a few other buildings dotted around. As the train lurched forward again, he was surprised to see that someone had gotten on board. The man opened the carriage door and taking off a long coat and hat, sat diagonally opposite him registering his presence with a brief and perfunctory nod of the head.

The heat of the compartment and motion of the train began to work its sleep spell again and his head nodded occasionally as he dozed. From time to time, he opened his eyes and peeked at his new neighbor. The man was dark. Black hair and darkened skin like many of the indigenous population of this part of the Europe. His lips were pale and thin and a sharp nose jutted almost comically from a flat face accentuated by a high forehead. The man stared straight ahead. He didn’t actually seem to blink at all. As if aware of another’s gaze upon him, the man turned his head and looked over displaying small green eyes. At this, our friend closed his half opened eyes so as to not appear to be staring.

After a few moments, he half opened his eyes again. The man was again staring straight ahead and again, he did not appear to blink. He was dressed in a dark coat, which seemed to hide a suit underneath. He was clean-shaven and his hair was slightly oiled and clung to his scrawny head. An image of an Eagle came to mind. A tall, thin and unblinking, Eagle-like, man.

The heat seemed to be growing thicker as the train now hurtled through darkness, rocking and swaying him from side-to-side. His eyes felt increasingly heavy and more difficult to keep open for any length of time. He felt his head drop and the movement woke him again but only momentarily.

At first, he wasn’t quite sure what it was he was feeling. Was he sleeping and dreaming?

He was aware of a slight pain and wetness at his neck. He felt as if he were falling down into a long cavernous gap between rising peaks that looked like very sharp teeth. There was a strange lapping sound in his ear too. He struggled to wake up but was only able to open his eyes very slightly. The pale but swarthy skinned man was staring at him with those green unblinking eyes. There was a strange faraway look on his face. The man licked his lips. Was that blood on his lips? Strangely, at that moment, he couldn’t care less. He simply wanted and needed to sleep.

For a few moments, he closed his eyes again and began to drift off but then he suddenly and with growing horror realized that the man sat opposite him had two very long and very sharp-looking incisor teeth. He opened his eyes; suddenly this time and stared across at his neighbor. The man flashed a smile back. Those teeth! This time he caught sight of those pointed white teeth and the man’s reddened tongue and lips. Instinctively he raised a hand to his neck where he had felt wetness. He wiped his neck and looked at the dark red streaks of blood on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding with sheer terror as he watched the man float up off of the seat and across the gap towards him. The eyes, unblinking, stared into his, and he found he could not move nor speak as that mouth descended again upon his neck. He blacked out.

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The jolt of the train woke him with a jump. It took just a few moments for his waking moment to become a scream as he jumped back. His heart was pounding and he was wet with sweat. In the next few milliseconds, he realized that he was alone in the carraige. The strange, Eagle-like, unblinking man with teeth had gone. His hand immediately felt for the wound on his neck. He wiped his neck with the back of his hand and looked but there was no blood. He checked several times with the same result. He then got up and almost ran out of the carriage and down to the bathroom where he could look in the mirror to check visually. No blood, no marks; just his pale, sweaty face staring back at him from the mirror.

A feeling of relief passed over him and he felt quite giddy for a moment. He began to chuckle and then to laugh as he realized the whole thing had been a bad dream. It had seemed so real though, he thought to himself. So very real!

He returned to the carriage and checked around. There was no sign of anyone or anything except for his own luggage, book and papers on the seat. It had been a dream and a bad one at that.

He sat down and relaxed feeling the heat envelope him and the movement of the train started to make him sleepy again. He let it take him deeper into sleep. However, the train was beginning to slow and a stop appeared to be in the offing. He woke up a bit and peered into the twilight gloom out of the window. The train stopped briefly in what he could only think of as a village station, as there was just a station house and a few other buildings dotted around. As the train lurched forward again, he was surprised to see that someone had gotten on board. The man opened the carriage door and taking off a long coat and hat, sat diagonally opposite him registering his presence with a brief and perfunctory nod of the head……….

my haunted life extreme (1)Over 50 true stories of the supernatural and paranormal – My Haunted Life – Extreme Edition