Confessions of a Palm Beach Psychic

By Matt Degennaro

Confessions of a Palm Beach Psychic is a contemporary novel about a man, Micheal De Angelis, who is born with the gift of clairvoyance and who exists from his conscious birth onward in the passionate, strange, and wonderful world of the paranormal. Living on the edge, beyond 'normal' reality, he reads people's thoughts, encounters angels, spirits, and guides, and is abducted by aliens both good and bad. Michael's life is fraught with danger, and he realizes early in his life that a dark force is trying its best to kill him . . . Only divine intervention (again and again) saves him.

During a journey across the country, Michael recalls in detail these supernatural events and waves that rocket him and all who come in contact with him into a state of grace. Each step of the actual cross country journey represents the dawning of a new consciousness about what it means to be human and what it means to seek truth in a world of danger and deception, opening a brand new chapter in man's quest for immortality and embarking on a quest for peace, hope, and light into the unknown events within the fascinating context (through time and space) of a spiritual journey from the Palm Beaches across the United States to Seattle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 12, 2001
• ISBN: 9780759629660

Book preview

1.

White on electric blue. The May sunlight leapt from the Atlantic’s whitecaps like sparks from a raging fire, making him squint, and the moment he looked within, he remembered the intense, alien ray frying the engine in his car twenty years ago on I-5 at night above Ashland, Oregon.

A cool ocean breeze made love to him, and he closed his eyes once again experiencing an instant, extremely real replay when his big, powerful, Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme suddenly shut down and lumbered to a standstill on the side of the road. Sarah, who sat next to him, was shocked awake by the sudden alien invasion and moved close to him.

What’s happening? She asked.

They got us now, Michael said. It’s the aliens from the farm in Santa Barbara who have followed us up the coast.

What can we do, Michael? I’m scared. I don’t want to die.

I don’t know, Michael replied, opening the car door and jumping from the car to confront the aliens in a desperate attempt not only to calm her fear, but his own. He knew the best defense was an offense, so he decided to attack like he did on Woodstock mountain fourteen years ago when he fought the same aliens to save Lili, a former lover who had summoned him from New Jersey, from their evil grasp. Physically, he knew

they were no match for him. He had beaten them both with one punch each and tossed them unceremoniously from Lili’s house. Although he had won the battle, Michael knew they would seek revenge, and he was sickened by a weird, mental weapon they had used to try to stop him. He felt like they had imprisoned him in a room filled with broken glass and had transplanted hair on his teeth.

He shook his fist at the space craft, cursing them for destroying his car and for their cowardice. Not one alien creep would stand and fight like a man.

We’re in big trouble, Sarah, Michael said, entering the car to tell her what had happened. He felt violated like he felt fourteen years ago when they tried to stop him with that strange weapon making him sick for a long time after the encounter. He had felt like he was wrapped in an old, dusty, oriental carpet, and his skin had crawled. The attack struck deep into his soul. The damn car’s dead, Michael said. They wasted the car.

Why us? Sarah asked. She was unable to quell the anxiety that she had experienced since the morning in Santa Barbara when the car lost power, and Michael had to turn into Sunshine Farms where there was a gas station, a store and a coffee shop.

I’m responsible for it. It was something I did a long time ago. It’s payback for what I did to them.

It was you?

Yes, and Lili, he answered to deflect her disdain. "They threatened to abduct her. It wasn’t at all like the

solicitation by the waitress at Sunshine Farms. Lili feared for her life."

Those bastards, Sarah said, turning and looking at all their belongings piled high in the back seat. She lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and releasing a large cloud of smoke.

I know how a cowboy feels after some sinister character shoots his horse. Short of shooting him, there is nothing worse, he said, opening the car door again, looking up into the night sky. I’m glad we didn’t go with them. They would have tortured me.

I panicked. They gave me the creeps. They had bad vibes, Sarah said. I’m glad you recognized them in Mount Shasta. They must have bases everywhere.

That truck repair place was alien, too, Michael said, recalling the bad vibes he felt when the Olds stopped again right by the truckstop in Mt. Shasta, California. He reminded Sarah why he hustled her from the restaurant to safely reach the motel room, lock the door and make it through the long, terrifying night until they could determine what was wrong with the car during the next day when the aliens, like most criminals, were conspicuous and less likely to take action against them.

Will they come back?

I doubt it, Michael said, standing in the dark on the road. Let’s push the car. I’ll push and you steer until we can go down hill. He pointed to a gas station sign in the valley below. There’s a station at the bottom of the hill. Maybe someone there can help us get the car started, he said, going behind the car and getting ready to push it into the downgrade.

Stop on the hill, Sarah, so I can get back in, Michael said and she nodded an okay.

At the bottom of the incline off the highway, the car rolled slowly into the well-lit gas station. Sarah and Michael left the car. She went to the bathroom, and he looked around for someone who could check the engine. The attendant agreed to see if there was anything he could do, while Michael excused himself and went to the bathroom. When he returned, the mechanic had opened the hood and was staring into the engine. As Michael approached, he saw the man scratch his head vigorously and heard him make strange, guttural sounds.

Can you fix it? Michael asked, suddenly realizing there was no hope.

Ain’t nothing left to fix, man, the attendant said. What the hell happened? I’ve never seen anything like this before.

It was them, he replied, pointing his index finger upward to the dark, night sky. They zapped us up on that hill above the exit.

Michael looked down at the engine and, like the attendant, could not believe his eyes. There was nothing left, no wires, no hoses or canisters, and he saw the engine block was a bright blue color and it looked flaky as if it, like everything else on the engine, had been vaporized by intense heat.

I’ve heard about them, he replied, nervously. What are you going to do?

Find a place my girl and I can spend the night. We’re on our way to Seattle. I’ll call ahead and see if someone will come pick us up tomorrow.

What about the car?

I’ll sell it cheap, he replied, watching the attendant’s eyes light up. It was, after all, in excellent shape except for the engine which no longer existed.

The waves lapping against the beach woke Michael from his revery and he decided to walk closer to the water. He removed his Bass ledges so he could step into the ocean water.

How cheap? The attendant asked.

2.

Michael, who stepped into the surf, asked the Divine to engage him in a sacred dance and asked Him to liberate him from the trance, enveloping his being like a black, plastic garbage bag. He had more difficulty than he asked for.

Why not be gregarious, Divine One, and give me a sign like you used to do in the good old days? Michael asked, but received no answer. He had asked for protection and love. He wanted the opportunity to resolve the ancient paradox about his life, though he already had been delivered and had separated himself from the confusion of the world.

Michael let the white foam swirl about his feet and watched water retreat to the waves waiting like large, white teeth ready to consume a pitifully small volume. He wondered why he kept remembering the nasty aliens, and he realized he was journeying west again soon and might be drawn into another alien contact, though he hoped this time, if a contact came, it would be beneficial and rewarding like the one he had in September, 1979 or like the incredible contacts he had with ET’s in the late eighties and early nineties.

There were a few people on the beach, and Michael nodded to them. He walked in the cooler surf, avoiding the hot sand, thinking about the first time he had been aboard an alien craft one day while he was visiting his cousin Rocco, an artist who lived in a cabin

in the woods near Princeton, New Jersey. Rocco liked to rough it. The cabin had no running water or central heat and the only bathroom was an outhouse in the trees. The day was not special. It was quiet, cool and sunny, an ordinary September day. Indian summer was in full bloom. Michael remembered why he had visited Rocco. They were working together on a commercial project that had, at the time, huge economic possibilities. Rocco did the art work and he, Michael, wrote the copy. They both had finished by dusk, and after dark, Rocco decided to make tea while Michael sat at the table, staring into the darkness outside the window. Suddenly, the window was illuminated by multicolored lights and the power in the cabin shut down, extinguishing all inside light.

Michael stood. Hey, Rocco, take a look at this, he said, looking over at Rocco who was illuminated by a red glow suddenly permeating the dark cabin. Something strange is happening, man.

I can’t move, Rocco replied, and Michael realized, from that moment on, he was alone. He looked again out the window and noticed the swirling, colored lights were an energy source beneath a strange, organic craft. It displaced the woods immediately outside the cabin. It could not possibly be there. However, it was there, and Michael remembered thinking that the alien craft had no rivets or seams. Transfigured, he continued to watch the unibody UFO and noticed it had markings similar to ancient Sanskrit writing. Suddenly, he felt an energy probe enter the room and felt it enter through his skin, making the hair on his arms rise. For a brief moment, he experienced fear. What if these aliens were man-eating arachnids or something far worse like giant, boa constrictors with arms and legs?

You will not be harmed in any way, the smooth female voice reverberated inside Michael’s mind. We are human.

Michael suddenly was on board the craft, standing before them, and he noticed they actually were human or they, at least, projected a human image. However, Michael specifically thought they were a beautiful couple, and he saw they had a vacant look in their eyes like people who had journeyed far. They communicated telepathically. He could hear them speak, but they didn’t move their lips.

What do you want with me? Michael thought, wondering why they chose him and not his cousin, Rocco, who was still frozen in his tracks by the stove.

We have come to educate you, the smooth, female voice responded inside his mind.

About what? He asked, staring at her beauty and immediately falling in love with the wonderful vibration she projected into his mind. In an instant, he would have removed his clothes and made passionate love to her. Was he imagining it, or was the female alien blushing?

I’m flattered, she said, gently. "There are more important things at hand. We are down loading

information into your mind to be revealed later when it will be necessary for your survival and for