I believe that we have more than one life, that somehow Karma plays a role in our chance to live again.
The ancient Celtic druids believed in the immortal soul. The end of a life was only a new beginning. Celtic warriors possessed a fierce courage in battle and I wonder if it was because they had no fear of death.
In Greek mythology, the souls of the dead waiting to be reborn drank from the River Lethe to forget their past lives.
Do we carry imprints from those past lives? For me, I have always been fascinated with ancient history, swords and castles. Sometimes I feel disconnected from modern times. My husband can’t stand wearing anything tight around his neck. Does this mean that in a past life he was hanged? Speaking of my husband, when we met, I was so comfortable with him it was like I already knew him. It was the same for him. I felt like he was my soul mate. I’ve always felt that we knew each other in a past life.
My Past Lives series explores the idea of two people that share a past life, one filled with tragedy and cursed by the gods. The third book in this series was just released in July 2012. Daughter of Night is the story of when my hero and heroine first met. When I was writing Of Water and Dragons (Book 1), I had an idea for past lives for my hero and heroine, but they couldn’t remember their former lives. I used the idea that souls ready to be reborn drink from the River Lethe and don’t remember their past lives. In Ravenwolf (Book 2), Nemu is forced to remember her past life and this is the set up for Daughter of Night.
Question for all: Do you believe in past lives? Please share any experiences you may have had.
Excerpt from Daughter of Night:
With the servant's help, they dressed Inaras in a warm tunic. He carried her to bed and covered her with warm blankets, stroking her cheek. She closed her eyes, falling asleep. He left her side and sat near the fire to dry his wet clothes, shifting to accommodate his aching balls. The kick she had delivered to his sensitive man parts had been like a kick from an untamed horse. He could not help smiling at her unbridled spirit. The smile faded and he stared into the fire, brooding.
“My lord, I found the pipe.” Zunia handed it to him.
“You may go now, but return at daybreak.”
“Yes, my lord.” She left the room.
He held the smooth clay pipe, feeling rage at the instrument that threatened to destroy the one he loved, but he knew the pipe was not his true enemy. Whatever had driven Inaras to hide behind the poppy demons was the true enemy. Clutching the pipe in his fist, he threw it into the fire. The pipe broke in two pieces. He watched with satisfaction as the flames consumed the evil pipe, crackling and spitting.
Inaras called out his name. He helped her from the bed.
“I feel as if I am going to be sick.” Shaking and sweating, she leaned against him, groaning. Holding her up, he half carried her to the bathing room and to the squatting hole. Retching violently, she emptied her body of the demon poppies. He held her hair back from her face and when she finished, he held her trembling body. He wiped her sweating forehead with a wet cloth and dripped cool drops of water into her mouth. Carrying her back to bed, he realized how much weight she had lost, how fragile she had become. He covered her with blankets, staring down at her sleeping face.
In sleep, her face looked so innocent. He realized that he knew very little about her, but he had seen her tender side when she calmed the mare with her beautiful, enchanting lullaby. It was difficult for him to comprehend that such an innocent looking woman could be capable of killing four armed warriors with her bare hands. Had she commanded the King Horse? A dread feeling came over him that Ninuba could have been speaking true about Inaras when she called her a sorceress of black magic.
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Kelley Heckart, Historical fantasy romance author
Captivating...Sensual...Otherworldly
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New Release! Two mortals are caught up in the battle between the Titans and Olympian gods.
Buy links on author website: http://kelleyheckart.com/daughter_of_night.html
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