Hey there. Enjoy these Author Notes from the first book in my Psychic Guardian Angel Series, First Casualty.
“I know where you live.”
I don’t actually, but it used to be an effective threat. Until everybody used it and it quit being a threat.
I used to say, “If I want to find you bad enough, there is nowhere you can hide,” because I was psychic and knew things.
Then I let Jacob Daniels use the line. I became less psychic and knew fewer things.
I believe everyone has some psychic ability. Most of us don’t realize it, don’t know that what we use every day is some type of extrasensory perception. We couldn’t control it if we knew we had it, or we deny its existence so no one thinks we’re a fruitcake.
We’re all fruitcakes in some manner. Uniquely so. And it’s amazing.
My aunt Sis told me about the time her parents and husband came to visit her from beyond the grave. She believed it was real.
Another time, my aunt Susie told me Sis’s story. Susie believed as well.
When my cousin called to tell me Susie had died, I stayed awake the rest of the night, waiting to see if she might come visit me. I believed. She didn’t visit. Her not coming did not prove anything. I still believed.
Do you believe?
Does your family have ghost stories, too?
Jacob Daniels was born out of my nightmares. They are frequently violent, and they leave me rattled, frustrated, and far from rested. They will repeat if I ignore them. The first nightmare that contributed to my writing was so bad, I woke up shaking.
The first book I wrote, which is not the novel you are reading here but is waiting for its time, used three of my nightmares. The one that left me shaking, I used in its entirety.
For a long time, I didn’t bother to watch horror movies. They were never as scary as my nightmares. I should probably try again. Maybe answer a few questions. Have movies gotten scarier, or have I become more sensitive and able to be frightened, or have I grown immune to imagined fears, or have my fear receptors been overwhelmed by real life?
So many questions.
The question that fed First Casualty is, “How many people go missing every year?”
The statistics are frightening. I’m not going to include them here. If you want to know what I’ve learned, come to an event and ask me. I’ll be happy to tell you. Well…maybe not happy. As I said, the statistics are frightening. The truth behind them is dark, frustrating and even more frightening. I’m willing to discuss the subject because it’s important. Just not happily.
There are many questions that need to be asked, many subjects that need to be discussed. One of the best aspects of writing is the ability to highlight and explore those subjects. But no subject, no story has only one side. Writing fiction allows me to ask the questions and discuss both sides of any subject objectively. At least as objectively as any human is able.
Other writers, maybe all, explore those subjects too. They come at them from their perspective, flavored by their environment, education, history and their objectivity, just as I do. All those writers have something to share. As a result, I read to understand the world. But I write to understand me.
If only that were possible.
It’s a journey.
Many people have helped me on this journey. Some of them without their knowledge or intent. Some by saying the correct thing at the best possible moment. I need to mention a few: my family, close and extended, the believers who indulged and encouraged me until this all became true. The Wordwhippers: Dale Butler, Barb Danson, Barbara Schmidt, Cathy Buchholz, Brittany Jaekel, Mary Rogers, Mary Sebesta, Liz Parker, and especially Joe and Denise Jubert. My continuity testers: Vicki Ryan and Carrie Johnson. And another early believer: Jeff Danielson. Thank you all.
To the rest of the world: you are my teachers, my inspiration and my hope. Keep it up. Hang in there. Stay hopeful. Thank you for joining me on this journey.
– A.W. Powers