The Presence (The Soul Tracker Series #2) - Softcover

Myers, Bill

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0310242363 ISBN 13: 9780310242369

Publisher: Zondervan, 2005

Synopsis

The first subjects exposed to The Presence went insane. Now a far more terrifying experiment is about to begin... A diverse group of unusual characters is airlifted to a remote mountain lodge. Here they hope to participate in a seance connecting them to the spirit world. David Kauffman and his teenage son have joined them to debunk a world-class psychic and expose her as a hoax. But not even David is prepared for what greets them. Still shaken by his daughter's death and his visits to heaven and hell, he's swept into a fantastic journey exposing the supernatural souls of men, where unseen thoughts become unimaginable reality. As the power of The Presence increases, the group must overcome their innermost passions or be destroyed by them. All this as they struggle to break free of their captor---the head of experiment and the murderer of David's daughter. Bestselling novelist Bill Myers weaves a supernatural thriller that will keep you turning pages late into the night---and thinking days after you've finished.

About this title

About the Author:

Bill Myers (www.Billmyers.com) is a bestselling author and award-winning writer/director whose work has won sixty national and international awards. His books and videos have sold eight million copies and include The Seeing, Eli, The Voice, My Life as, Forbidden Doors, and McGee and Me. SPANISH BIO: Bill Myers trabaja con los jovenes y es un escritor/director cuyos libros y peliculas han ganado cuarenta galardones nacionales e internacionales. Es el cocreador de McGee and Me, y autor de la serie Forbidden Doors, la serie My Life as..., The Seeing. Cuando no le esta hablando a personas que han experimentado lo sobrenatural, esta entrevistando a grupos de jovenes de todo el mundo o haciendo un par de peliculas. Su sitio Web es www.BillMyers.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

The Presence Copyright 2005 by Bill Myers This title is also available as a Zondervan audio product. Visit www.zondervan.com/audiopages for more information. Requests for information should be addressed to: Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Myers, Bill, 1953-- The presence / Bill Myers. p. cm.---(Soul tracker series; bk. 2) ISBN-10: 0-310-24236-3 (softcover) ISBN-13: 978-0-310-24236-9 (softcover) I. Title. PS3563.Y36P74 2005 813'.54---dc22 2005006083 All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible: New International Version. NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. Verses marked KJV are taken from the King James Version. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means---electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other---except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher. Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920. 'How Great Thou Art,' words and music copyright 1953 by S. K. Hine. Assigned to Manna Music, Inc., 35255 Brooten Road, Pacific City, OR 97135. Renewed 1981 by Manna Music, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission. (ASCAP) Interior design by Michelle Espinoza Printed in the United States of America 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 /?DCI/ 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 one some presence has joined us. Yes, something has definitely decided to visit us from beyond.' David Kauffman tried not to smirk at the melodrama. Honestly, the medium sounded like she was out of a bad 1950s movie. The only thing missing were some cheesy special effects. Then, sure enough, right on cue, the table candles flickered as if someone had opened a window. But of course no window had been opened. Nor door. Nor anything else in the lodge's spacious dining room of pine paneling and hardwood floors. Just the fan or whatever it was the medium had obviously switched on by hidden remote. Still, it had its desired effect. None of the participants moved; they waited in breathless anticipation. This is what they'd been preparing for. What they'd traveled so many miles to experience. A chill crept across David's shoulders. Apparently the medium hadn't turned on a fan but an air conditioner. He could literally feel the temperature of the room dropping. A neat trick that made an instant believer of the woman to his right. 'Is it . . . him?' Her voice was thick and husky, cured from years of tobacco smoke. Savannah (she used no last name) was an ex-supermodel edging out of her prime---with thick blonde hair, complete with fashionable dark streaks, an indigo butterfly tattooed on her left shoulder, silver and turquoise jewelry, pink capris, and a silk camisole sheer enough to show off her lacy black bra. Nearby was the water bottle she took frequent drags from. In further efforts to kick her nicotine habit, she perpetually clicked and rattled sugarless candy inside her mouth. 'Ashton . . . baby?' She gave a sniff and gripped David's hand tighter, her fingers damp and cold. 'Is that you?' There was no answer---except for the slapping candles against the air and the rattling of sugarless lemon drops. Directly across from her sat a young man---Albert Sinclair. He'd barely met David before mentioning he'd sold his first software company at twenty-six, for 2.5 mil, and was working on his second. He sported a shaved head with fuzzy stubble, mandatory goatee, and casual khakis. In an effort to hide his nerdiness, he wore a black T-shirt just tight enough to indicate he'd been working out. He nearly succeeded. 'Man,' he sniffed, 'it's getting cold in here.' David fought off another shiver. The kid was right. It had dropped a good ten degrees. 'It often happens when one contacts those on the other side.' David shook his head. He'd written better lines than that in junior high. He turned to the medium, Rachel McPherson. She was in her midthirties and had that handsome sophistication that sometimes follows pretty girls when they grow up. Smart, personable, sensitive---the perfect combination for a con artist who bilks the grieving by 'contacting' their dearly departed. Now if she could just do something about that corny dialogue. He had studied her bio on the flight up from LA. She had two books out, a syndicated TV show with a growing audience, and a PSI rating by the National Psychic Board of Level Three---a classification held by only a dozen or so in the country. A classification that to David meant she was simply good at not getting caught. Ever since they'd started the seance some fifteen minutes earlier, he'd been silently evaluating her performance. Her eyes were closed in concentration, her head tilted to 16 the presence the side as if listening, allowing her shimmering copper hair to brush against some very bare and lovely shoulders. It's true, he'd been taken by her beauty the moment they'd met---which explained his immediate shifting to a cooler, more professional approach, a curtness that bordered on rudeness. He didn't enjoy it, not in the least, but it seemed to be necessary if he was to do his job. She had offered her hand at the lodge's front door when he and his son had been dropped off by the chopper less than an hour earlier. 'Good morning, Mr. Kauffman. We were beginning to wonder if you would make it.' It was a good-natured barb, softened by kind eyes and the slightest flirt to her smile. He nodded, glancing at the hand-carved beaver near the entrance, the beamed cathedral ceiling, the stuffed bobcat crouching on the table---anywhere but to her green, lowswooping, cowl-neck sweater. It was a clumsy defense, one he knew she saw through, but it was the best he could come up with on such short notice. He kept his answer simple and to the point: 'Then let's not waste any more time, shall we.' 'Don't you want to see your room? Get unpacked and settled?' He shook his head. 'The sooner we get on with this, the better.' That was it. No pleasantries. No apologies for missing the first day. Just his attempt at trying to be direct and professional. The woman's smile remained, but it grew a few degrees cooler. Just as well. He may have been taken in by her looks and winning personality---but he would not be taken in by her scam. Initially, David had declined the request to fly up to Washington state and take part in the seances. He was an author, for crying out loud---not some psychic ghost buster. But Savannah, widow of the famous rock and roller, Ashton Hawkins, had been very persistent . . . the twenty-five thousand dollars she'd offered hadn't hurt, either. All she asked was that he attend the gathering with a couple close friends and the acclaimed psychic, Rachel McPherson. Savannah insisted that they had made several contacts with her dead husband over the past few months. And it was during those contacts that his spirit claimed again and again that David had seen him in hell. More importantly, he insisted that David could actually help him escape from it. Far-fetched to say the least. And David would have written Savannah off as a nutcase---except for the gold pendant. The swirling gold pendant he had seen around the neck of an individual suffering and burning when he had visited the Lake of Fire. The very pendant Savannah had later sent him as proof that he had actually seen her dead husband during those awful minutes he'd spent in hell. Even then, David had declined. Although a relatively new believer, he'd read the Bible's warnings against contacting the dead. Besides, according to his research, most were merely hoaxes and con jobs. A good friend of his, Dr.

About this edition

• Publisher: Zondervan
• Publication date: 2005
• ISBN 10: 0310242363
• ISBN 13: 9780310242369
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 336