Heather Skye Wilson Is the Psychic Warrior
by T.D. McKinnon
2087: Twelve year old Heather Skye Wilson, psychically gifted child protégé, daughter of two of the world’s leading diplomats for ‘World Unity’, is abducted by terrorists. The traumatic experience, acting as a catalyst, launches her into her ‘Control Point’ – a phase of psychic development, where she encounters Ewan MacGreggor, 10th century Highland warrior and Clan Chief: her first incarnational contact – helping to save her life.
Coming to terms with growing up, physically and emotionally, while connecting with an increasing number of her incarnations and struggling with her psychic development, Heather is drawn progressively into the ‘World Unity’ cause: emissary, diplomat and, eventually, special agent.
This is an action-packed, multi-dimensional, speculative-fiction, thriller that spans the globe and the ages.
Here is an excerpt from Heather Skye Wilson Is the Psychic Warrior:
During the next few interminably long and stiflingly hot days, to help calm my fears and frustrations, I occupied some of my time with my martial arts training. I was aware of course that, a half grown girl as I was, my skills would be fairly ineffectual against these combat hardened guerrillas. I simply had to trust that WUSFU would find and free me.
On the evening of the third day at the hut, frustrated by the waiting and seeking an alternative solution, I went into deep meditation. I can’t say how long I’d been under – time has no meaning in that state – but I began to experience the kind of vertigo associated with rapid acceleration, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, I was lost. I mean really lost. I didn’t know where, who, or indeed what I was, and it seemed to last an eternity.
Out of the blue, I know who I am. I am me, but another me. A male me; a fully adult male me, thinking in a language I’ve never heard but understand completely. As I look around, a bracing wind sweeps the wild landscape of hills and mountains, and damp, purple foliage caresses my partially bare legs as I walk.
Stepping out with the natural grace of a hill walker, I feel the flush of blood through my veins and the reliable power in my legs as they carry me over the rough terrain: across hills, through glens and leaping from stone to stone over swift moving burns. As the gap between me and the distant wooded mountainside steadily diminishes, I also feel the ridged comfort of the claymore, strapped to my back, and the warmth of the sun on my face; and the sensual feel of unmistakable maleness swinging beneath my swirling kilt. I am Ewan MacGreggor, born the year of our Lord 890. I am first born son of Gregor MacGreggor: the original MacGreggor. His father, Gregor, was sired by Kenneth ‘The Great’ MacAlpin, first king of Scots and Picts, and my great-great-grandsire was Alpin, king of the Scots.
Twenty summers old, I have a bonny young wife and baby daughter. Tall, lean and strong I am in the prime of my life and have already proven myself in battle – I fear no man – and I am to be the next Clan MacGreggor Chief. Striding confidently, purposefully through my native environment I feel and know all of this, and much more.