Title - The Healing Touch
Author – Angelina Kalahari
Genre - Romantic Fiction
Publisher - Movement Publishing
Book Blurb -
How do you live in a world without your voice, without passion, and without James…?
Isabelle spent her career as an opera singer and her life married to an emotionally unavailable man. With the onset of the menopause, Isabelle loses her most precious gift - her voice. As time marches unforgivably on, Isabelle yearns to experience the love and passion she'd always dreamt of in her operatic roles.
Throwing herself into her work, Isabelle finds her soulmate in the least likely of moments. When James auditions for the lead in one of her shows, Isabelle discovers the one thing she has spent her life searching for - him.
But when James unexpectedly dies, Isabelle must forge a new life for herself in a world that is suddenly unfamiliar and forever cold.
Is it too late for her to find the love she craves or could Angelo be the healing touch to save her fragmented soul?
Inspired by true events, The Healing Touch is a mesmerising story of loss, heartbreak, passion and love in many guises.
If you liked The Notebook, then you'll love The Healing Touch.
Explore The Healing Touch, the first novel in the captivating Love Beyond Reason series today.
“Profoundly moving, delightfully evocative and totally absorbing… reminds me of novels by Nicholas Sparks.” - Mary Anne Yarde, author of the award-winning series The Du Lac Chronicles.
Disclaimer: This novel contains some heat and a happy ending. Don't forget, it's also available in Kindle Unlimited.
Arianna had told me James was always around me, even when he was quiet sometimes. But I wondered why there were times when I couldn't feel him at all. Were those times he'd wanted to give me space, or did he disappear off somewhere else?
It was one of the questions I'd meant to ask Arianna when I'd last visited the Spiritualist Church.
As I slipped into the hot foamy bath, Arianna's voice replayed in my mind.
"When we die, our soul part is no longer focussed in a body as it is when we're physical. Basically, you have to forget about the physical world. Our soul part is not confined to a single place at a time. Time and space don't exist in the nonphysical."
I'd tried to imagine it, but it was difficult to get my head around such a concept. I'd been prepared to be open-minded and had wanted Arianna to tell more, which she did with no prompting from me.
"I've been doing this work for so many years now, and I've been told over and over again by those who'd transitioned that only a small part of our soul incarnate into a physical body. If our entire soul were to do so, our brains would probably blow a fuse, so when we die, we merge again with all of our soul. And because we're no longer confined to a physical body, and our soul part is so enormous, we're able to be everywhere at once. Sometimes, however, one soul decides to 'split' itself into more than one physical body at the same time. That’s when we hear people speaking about twin flames. It's not usually a romantic or sexual relationship, if they're ever lucky enough to meet. Typically, it's a very intense, and often short relationship, as one usually dies quite quickly after having met the other. It seems the relationship is too intense to be sustainable, because the love they feel for each other is the pure love the soul feels for itself. Their short relationship is often also centred on a very important project that the one left behind feels compelled to complete."
I remembered feeling like someone had hit me over the head when I'd first heard the information. But even as I remained sceptical, it explained everything I'd experienced with James. All the pieces of our puzzle finally made sense and fitted together so precisely I was beginning to wonder if there could be some truth to what Arianna had told me.
Perhaps it was why I wasn't angry with James at all, as so many people, including the therapist and the psychiatrist, had expected me to be.
Even the extreme sadness and panic about being left alone had settled quite quickly into a knowing this was meant to happen, and we were on a bigger journey together. Some deep part of me knew he had to leave physically for our work to live, for its profundity to count, even as I knew he hadn't really left me. The knowledge had brought solace.
Arianna had told me, "I know you feel as though you've lost him. But your friend, along with others who'd transitioned through the years, have told me they haven't left, they haven't gone anywhere. To them, it feels as though they're just in the next room. Your friend is still with you."
The buzzing of my phone beside the bath broke my reverie.
It was Angelo.
Be there in an hour? Xxxx
Shit. I'd better get a move on. Quickly, I finished my bath, dried my hair, applied make-up, pulled on some clothes, and was ready before the hour was up. I left a note for Simon reminding him I'd see him the next morning and made sure Tosca had enough food and water to last her until Simon got home later that night.
As I checked my bag, my phone buzzed again.
Hi baby! I'm here! xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx. Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Walking to our rendezvous point, I thought again, as I often had over the past months, about the three men in my life. My three loves, as I'd liked to call them.
But more and more, I'd begun to understand the many different shades of love, and what an amazing emotion it really was, because of course, they were not my only loves. I was blessed with wonderful, strong women and a great sister, female friends, and other male friends, gay and straight, whom I loved like family.
Love was powerful, 'like being hungry or thirsty, only more permanent,' I'd read in an article when I'd gone looking for answers. According to the article, love 'is basically chemistry and can be viewed as a survival mechanism.' It spoke about six different types of love, all of which I could relate to well, suggesting that, 'it was most likely impossible to experience all six types with only one person, which is why family, friends and community was so important to our wellbeing.'
One contributor to the article suggested that, 'A thing more easily experienced than defined, love was the driver for all great stories,' while another, a nun, no less, postulated that, 'Love was the one thing that can never hurt anyone, although it may cost dearly. The paradox of love was that it was supremely free yet attached us with bonds stronger than death. It couldn't be bought or sold; there was nothing it couldn't face; love was life's greatest blessing.'
Yes, I thought. Love was life's greatest blessing, indeed. I wouldn't swap or change anything about my three loves. I'd learnt so much from each and felt truly blessed to have had all of them in my life.
When I turned the corner, Angelo's car was there. I could see him watching me as I walked towards the car. I smiled and waved. He waved back. I was particularly grateful for him, my healing touch.
Buy Links –
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Author Biography -
Angelina entered this life among the red dunes of Namibia’s deserts. There, where the Milky Way flung it splendour across heaven’s canvas, she found her voice.
As her family traversed the desert in search of crops for their herds of karakul sheep, a childhood filled with strange legends, amazing animals and wonderful people, became her universe.
Music by Mario Lanza and other tenors accompanied them on their travels and called to her soul’s desire to share her voice.
When she left to study with other voice obsessives, it introduced her to a world far beyond her beloved Africa and brought fantastic performance opportunities.
This led to an invitation to Buckingham Palace as a reward, and in recognition of her contribution to the music, culture, and economy of the United Kingdom.
Storytelling, such a big part of her childhood, became an inherent element in her performances, and she never stopped writing down her stories. When, due to illness, she could no longer share her operatic voice as she had, writing became her perfect creative outlet.
She writes contemporary romance to explore love, women's fiction to understand love and middle-grade novels to give love. What more is there than love?
Social Media Links -
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