The blurb:
On August 15th, 1939 an English
passenger plane from British Airways Ltd. Crashed in Danish waters between the
towns of Nykobing/Falster and Vordingborg. There were five casualties reported
and one survivor. Just two weeks before Hitler invaded Poland with the world at
the brink of war the manner in which this incident was investigated left much
open to doubt. The jurisdiction battle between the two towns and the newly
formed Danish secret police, created an atmosphere of intrigue and distrust.
In the winter of 2009-2010 a young executive, Bill is promoted and transferred to London for a major International firm. He has struggled for the better part of his life with nightmares and phobias, which only seem to worsen in London. As he seeks the help of a therapist he accepts that his issues may well be related to a 'past-life trauma'.
Through love, curiosity, archives and the information superhighway of the 21st century Bill travels through knowledge and time to uncover the story of the 1939 plane crash.
The Bridge of Deaths is a love story and a mystery. Fictional characters travel through the world of past life regressions and information acquired from psychics as well as archives and historical sources to solve "One of those mysteries that never get solved" is based on true events and real people, it is the culmination of 18 years of sifting through sources in Denmark, England and the United States, it finds a way to help the reader feel that he /she is also sifting through data and forming their own conclusions.
The journey takes the reader to well known and little known events leading up to the Second World War, both in Europe and America. The journey also takes the reader to the possibility of finding oneself in this lifetime by exploring past lives.
In the winter of 2009-2010 a young executive, Bill is promoted and transferred to London for a major International firm. He has struggled for the better part of his life with nightmares and phobias, which only seem to worsen in London. As he seeks the help of a therapist he accepts that his issues may well be related to a 'past-life trauma'.
Through love, curiosity, archives and the information superhighway of the 21st century Bill travels through knowledge and time to uncover the story of the 1939 plane crash.
The Bridge of Deaths is a love story and a mystery. Fictional characters travel through the world of past life regressions and information acquired from psychics as well as archives and historical sources to solve "One of those mysteries that never get solved" is based on true events and real people, it is the culmination of 18 years of sifting through sources in Denmark, England and the United States, it finds a way to help the reader feel that he /she is also sifting through data and forming their own conclusions.
The journey takes the reader to well known and little known events leading up to the Second World War, both in Europe and America. The journey also takes the reader to the possibility of finding oneself in this lifetime by exploring past lives.
The sneak peak:
He perceived himself to be a sensible man. He surrounded
himself with facts and numbers. Those who worked and interacted with him saw him
as a levelheaded, reasonable, and credible individual. He was a man of logic
and common sense. And aside from a handful of therapists, no one knew him, not
wholly.
At this point in time, he had exhausted all sensible,
reasonable, credible, traditional, levelheaded, common sense, and rational
options to try to solve his problem. He now found himself open to the
possibility of the unreasonable, incredible, irrational, implausible, and illogical.
It could even be said that he was now open to the possibility of the absurd and
the ridiculous.
He functioned and lived well enough. To be sure, he functioned
and lived better than most. And until now, this had been acceptable, a
reasonable way of living. But now this was no longer the case, and at least in
part, this was due to his age. He was now past the age of thirty, and he began
to have a strong desire for a family of his own. The stress of such desires could
also be a contributing factor that was aggravating his problem.
His logical mind made him fully aware of one thing, and that
was the type of woman he wanted to share his life with: the type of woman he pictured
himself riding off into the happily
ever-after
proverbial sunset with was not going to settle for “enough.” It is also
probably important to note here that although he did not realize it, he was by
all accounts a hopeless romantic.
Now that he was an accomplished success in his chosen field and
in a financially stable situation, he felt a need to fulfill other aspects of
his life. As was mentioned before, like so many men past the age of thirty, he
sought to find a perfect woman, a woman to share his life with. It was not a
particular physical type he imagined, for he found (as most men do) all pretty women
attractive. The list of requirements for the perfect woman was more along the
lines of an educational and socioeconomic nature. And, of course, he required
that she have mental stability.
His problems seemed, as so many things in life, not to be fair.
Fortunately, he was not one to wallow in self-pity. He knew that enough effort
and resources had been spent on various traditional medicines and therapies to
try to solve his problem. He had also indulged in the untraditional
recreational drug and alcohol escapism cure, as some do in youth. None of the
aforementioned had worked, not in the long term.
He had originally sought hypnosis to learn relaxation and
control techniques. The first hypnosis session taught him how to apply relaxation
techniques. In that session he learned that while under hypnosis he was always ultimately
in control. He quickly learned that he could choose to stop the session at any time.
He could do this by simply opening his eyes.
The second session was quite a different story; it brought back
his worst nightmare with such clarity that he had a strong physical reaction.
He started moving his arms and legs in such a way that he unfortunately somehow
hit the psychologist and gave the poor man a rather nasty black eye. The
session was interrupted before he tasted the salty water of the sea, cold salty
water, and saw the bridge (that part was always in his nightmare).
With an icepack held to his face, the therapist warned him that
a certain door to his subconscious had been opened and that he might start
having the dream more vividly than he had in the past. He could not imagine his
dream to feel any more real than it already did. The therapist also stated that
a problem having lasted seventeen years could hardly be solved overnight.
Inasmuch as he accepted that the therapy might work, he had
begun to develop a level of distrust of his doctor. Frankly, he had developed a
strong dislike for the therapist and felt that the man made him feel inferior.
The doctor was pushing, trying to take him to places in his
mind that he was not ready to visit. And with regard to what he saw in his dreams,
the therapist had discussed certain … beliefs he might consider as a
possibility for his problems. These beliefs were such that most in a world of
facts and numbers would find hard to digest.
He did realize that his first trip to Europe as a teenager with
his school had been the beginning of his unpleasant dreams. The therapist called
that the trigger. The problem began with nightmares, but those had grown into
other problems. Aside from the trigger, the doctor also spoke of layers of
trauma acquired after the trigger. These problems had created certain obstacles
in his life.
At first, the transfer to London had been a feather in his cap,
a desired jump in the ladder to reach his career goals. As the weeks passed and
he began to feel more and more uncomfortable, he began to pinpoint that it had
not been puberty, but rather the eighth grade trip to Europe (the trigger) when
it all began. Here in London he felt this “problem” was interrupting the way he
liked to function in his life and in his work.
This trigger, according to the therapist—the therapist he did
not like—bridged who he had been (in a past life) with who he now was. This principle
of past lives was not a tangible idea that he could relate to. If he needed to
believe in reincarnation at all, he needed facts that made it seem plausible.
The dreams continued to haunt him. They started out in
different ways but always ended the same … the same lettering on the wings and on
the side of the aircraft; the taste of salty, cold water in his mouth; the
anxious feeling of loneliness and apprehension; and, these days, the
inevitability of awakening to a wet bed and the frustrating and unpleasant
feeling that he had no control over this.
It was his dislike for the therapist that had introduced him to
past-life regression, coupled with the embarrassment about the black eye he had
given said man. That made him seek elsewhere for answers on his own. He had to tackle
the problem, as he had a fear of losing all that he had accomplished: the
steady climb up a corporate ladder—although in his case, it was more of a fancy
marble staircase. This had been accomplished through hard work and an extensive
and expensive Ivy League education.
Seeking to understand past lives was the very reason he found
himself in one of London’s finest (if not the finest) bookstores that had
survived the bad economy and competition from Amazon and other online sources.
It was there at the bookstore, Foyles that he was holding a book from an
impressive source, which explained why such an unlikely and illogical type of
therapy might actually work.
The author:
Sounds interesting - thanks for sharing :)
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