Prologue

Mentally hearing words from an unseen source when I write fiction is not unusual. My characters develop voices of their own and sometimes take over the dialog beyond what I had intended.

It’s not unusual in my fiction writing, but I was writing a blog about a devastating real-life event.

. Anger had my fingers trembling as I blogged about the breakup of a relationship I thought was leading to the altar. 

"I'm sorry, you just aren't my soulmate." Todd wrote in his breakup text. 

What kind of stupid breakup excuse was that? Soulmates. Baloney. It was a lame and cowardly excuse.

She, the ethereal entity invaded my thoughts.

You don’t believe in soulmates? 

I tried to ignore her words trickling into my consciousness as I hammered the computer keys, tears no longer falling as they had the past few weeks. I finally accepted the end; at least, I thought I had until I started the blog post. No longer heartbroken, I was now filled with anger. 

She kept breaking into my thoughts blocking words I was trying to write. The mental voice I sensed was relentless. 

I wanted nothing to do with her. She was demanding. She wanted to tell her story. I wanted to write what I had to say, uninterrupted by a storyteller who had gone beyond this life. Her life was over. Why was she determined to force her aura onto my awareness? 

I temporarily gave up writing to escape her but frequently during my day, her persistent ethereal voice distracted me from my daily routine tempting me to come back to writing.

I didn't like it. Even now I do not understand why I am letting her tell her story through me. Perhaps it is to escape her demands and the hope she will leave me alone. 

Perhaps it is my curious mind wanting to hear more about soulmates and past lives/

This is her story. I write it as I hear her words flowing rapidly in my mind.