McTavish Regressions: Beasts

LAYOVA AC

Description

Arabesque introduced readers to the tragic events in the past-life regression of Laura Tsvetkovsky, whose lifelong struggle with her disability evolves over the course of The McTavish Regressions novels. Beasts is the second book in this series, which offers the protagonists Wallace & Vivi to prove themselves as a world- class innovative duo, taking the reader to historical moments where victories and defeats set patterns for the future lives of their disturbed patients. They write equally vividly about their own past-life experiences creating a world in which readers will recognize themselves, drawing a thrilling and nuanced portrait of how hypnotherapy meets criminology. Who will they meet next? Who will they be next?In Beasts, Laura meets another piece to her puzzle and continues to triumph her family saga and life in a wheelchair; McTavish & Buret meanwhile, have their own discoveries through their regressions, notably the potential for using regression therapy to treat recidivism in hardened criminals. The fearless doctors live out this passion in the narrative, giving readers a poignant and universal look into healing and belonging.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 02 février 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781800468900
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2021 Layova AC (Art Collaborative)

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 9781800468900

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is not intended as a substitute for the medical advice of physicians. The reader should regularly consult a physician in matters relating to his/her physical or mental health and particularly with respect to any symptoms that may require diagnosis or medical attention.

The role played by Freud and Jung in this narrative is entirely fictional. The imagined Freud and Jung do, however, abide by the generally known facts of the real Freud’s and Jung’s life. The references, letters, dialogues and all the passages relating to psychoanalysis have no factual basis.

This literary series is for entertainment and educational purposes.

Layova Art Collaborative dedicates this book to the human race. With our current evolutionary struggle on Earth, we hope to lighten the burden through love, hopefully which you’ll feel through our storytelling.
Contents
I. The Orphan in Me
II. Oak Mistakes
III. Clan Education
IV. God Grant Me the Serenity
V. Jade Roller
VI. The Secrets of Nature & The Nature of Secrets
Psychiatric Profile
Endnotes
I
The Orphan in Me
Vivi chewed absentmindedly on the stray sunflower seed shell that had snuck through the trail mix. She prepared for her past-life regression with McT the same way she did for any project, like an athlete, a prizefighter, or a marathon runner, totally focused and steely-eyed. Off the clock, she decided on a quick smoke and a dram before “heading down.” Viv stared at the leafless and graceful oaks as the cognac took its familiar route from flask to gut; she was ready.
The wind announced her quick reentry into the office and the temperatures fought for a while until the room won and her mentor extended his invitation to begin. Vivi settled on the couch and gave McT a deep sigh and tight smile, signaling that she was resigned to give herself to the experiment. After all, how good a hypnotist could she ever be without going under herself? These last words came as a mantra to help her completely let go, as she was unaccustomed to giving her psyche over to anyone, let alone a skilled gold-digger. She crossed herself, kissed her knuckles, and closed her eyes.
“When I count from one to three you go through your birth with no pain at all. One: being born, no pain; two, three: you’re out, you’re born and there’s a beautiful door. Your past life is on the other side of this beautiful door. I count down from five and as I reach one, you will reach that past life scene. Five: the door begins to open; beautiful light pulls you to the other side of this door. Four: you move through the light closer and closer to the scene; three: joining the scene you find yourself in a body, look down at your feet. Three: you become aware of other people; observe how they are dressed or what they are doing and, if you get close enough to another person, observe their face or their eyes. Two, one: your energy is there, you can move forward or backward through time—”
Wallace McTavish led Vivi Buret, colleague and friend, through her first past-life regression. He’d thought about it quite a bit in the morning and decided that the best approach was simply a professional one; he would show her no favor nor treat her any differently than he had treated his other clients over the years. Naturally, there was a subjective element he was guardedly aware of, and he’d put those anticipatory thoughts—and the desire to know who she’d once been—on his “mind shelf.” This convenient location in McT’s mind was a gentle and honored place for all things infantile that had stuck to or followed him into his adult life and were now in limbo, awaiting either maturity or oblivion. The shelf, made from prima materia, goaded him at times, taunting his animus mundi, so full was it that it layered back to his soul’s descent, he figured, but he knew it existed for his own Socratic good. Know thyself : thy inability to trust women and almost desperate desire to do so; thy inner child to-do list; thy hateful memories that, when taken off the shelf and brought out into the light, eroded just that much more until they had become manageable. Everyone has a mind shelf, and his had just received a new question mark, resting like a crown on Genevieve Buret’s head, with her own mind shelf. Now shelf upon shelf sparked a new vibe into the area, one that he could instinctively feel was altering the gravity with a discernible lift to the atmosphere. Such buoyancy could never lead to anything but clearance; he knew it without knowing, he sensed the truth in her presence. His truth was now being magnetically drawn out, but he had to be ready. Was he?
She’d come to him authentically, even innocently so, clearly with the intent to work together. The professional direction of his work that her arrival had inspired was enough incentive to collaborate. A doctor takes an oath to heal the sick and, in McT’s opinion, disease starts in the psyche. That criminology could act as a new vantage point for his work was a delight to discover and, with this regression, he was about to find out the tidal timeline that had led to her arrival. Yes, she had been keen on his work, so the two paths met to create a third. Careful attention to which direction they could move from this point on would ensure at least enough data to begin to advance their theory on reducing repeat offender crime by treating them as they had done with Laura Tsvetkovsky. The findings couldn’t be denied: regression was a means for the ultimate self-repair of the distorted psyche. For Wallace, this work was confirmation that life is experiential by nature and returning to the experience, traumatic or otherwise, added necessary narrative to the present dialogue of one’s life.
Vivi had seen enough case studies from a first-hand perspective that it was clear she needed her own experience to truly understand what she was getting into. After all, she’d decided to continue under the tutelage of her mentor, even though she always felt as if she were the more stringent academic of the two. This field was far too compelling to her criminology work, and she knew she’d have to walk her talk eventually; if she were going to treat career criminals with this therapeutic medium, she’d have to fully commit to the vocation, and that meant going under. From here, she could not let up in any way. She had up until now been standing at the threshold, so it was time that she put her full trust in Wallace and walk boldly through the doors of perception.
Vivi recognized that her academic and career track had left no room for chance. The first to admit she was not the spontaneous type; she rarely took a chance professionally because she knew it might threaten her control over her future career. She’d seen colleagues attract too much attention to themselves, to the degree that each move attracted scrutiny, and those who were less than scrupulous in their research habits were immediately found out and discredited. She knew she was taking a chance entering this field of study; certainly, only a handful of scholars would support her decision, but that was precisely the reason to gain proper respect from the scientific community at the outset. Perhaps they had not anticipated and would never really register such cunning from the young Buret, though the clue was in their own nickname for her. Surely “the ferret” gave some foreshadowing. For eminently intelligent minds, they appeared foolish for not having assumed anything but her moving forward with hardcore strategic prowess. Vivi assessed their naivety as poetic justice for all the gender-specific innuendo she had put up with, such as how long it took her to get published, to get on the tenure track, to build her classes beyond ten students. But now that she had all three, now that she was unmistakably an authority in her field, on par with the lauded criminologists of the twenty-first century, she could afford to take this detour and possibly grant the research the respect it deserves. By this point, she’d even resigned herself to the fact that her jump into this foray might backfire. But she was willing to take the risk and, so far, there hadn’t been any backlash, though she wasn’t openly publishing yet, it was still early days in the research. This new leg of her personal and professional life journey had just begun, and she felt secure in McT’s “laboratory,” ready to further her own work as a subject of the technique. Let’s get this fucking party started , she mused.
McT sat comfortably in their n