Twice Upon A Time

By Dan Davidson and Rich Marcano

What if you were given the opportunity of a "do-over"—a chance to travel back in time and change your life's path? What decisions would you make differently? What mistakes would you fix? And what would you do if you learned that your fate is set at birth, and cannot be escaped?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543977226

Book preview

© 2017 D. Davidson – R. Marcano

Cover design by-SelfPubBookCovers.com/Daniela

Print ISBN # 978-1-54397-721-9

eBook ISBN # 978-1-54397-722-6

First Printed Edition 2019

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the authors. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the story a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

(Publisher’s Note:) Adult Fiction – Contains some profanity and sexual situations. Intended for readers 18 years of age and older.

CONTENTS

Author(s) Profiles

Other Books By

Testimonials

Acknowledgments

Author(s) Quote

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

Authors Comment

Author(s) Profiles

The Co-authors, D. Davidson, and R. Marcano have been lifelong friends. Their unique relationship has survived for more than fifty-five years. After serving together in the U.S. Air Force in South Korea, the two men formed an unshakeable bond. Although life would take them down separate paths and eventually separate them by three-time zones—their year in Korea would remain their most enduring connection. Like all young men—they made their share of mistakes and have their regrets. Now, their common goal is to share their life experiences with others. Their novels on historical romance, time travel and paranormal romance capture the essence of human imperfection.

Other Books By

D. Davidson - R. Marcano

Butterfly

Wish

HISTORICAL ROMANCE - A doomed interracial love affair set in post-war South Korea.

Available in eBook at Amazon, iBook, Barnes and Noble Nook, Google Play, Scribd, and Kobo. Also available in Soft Print book, at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books A Million, and Powells. Also, order from Author’s Website – www.aragonstories.com or www.bookbaby.com.

Testimonials

Twice Upon a Time answers the question: what if you get a second chance at life and at love? This story has it all: dark magic, star-crossed lovers, and a moving look at what happens when we challenge natural law in the name of love. Moving and surprising, this book will keep you turning pages until the end.

-Cara Lockwood,

USA Today bestselling author of I Do (But I Don’t)

[e-mail]

***

A thought-provoking and poignant exploration of the age-old ‘what if’ musings we all employ. Would our lives be different if we’d only made a different choice, or is there a latent destiny embedded in our souls that can’t be denied? Are Déjà vu and magic just follies? Or do the prickling of the tiny hairs on our arms from our inner sixth-sense indicate more? A thoroughly enjoyable exploration of these subjects seen through relatable characters and believable journeys.

-Rebecca Hefner, Author of the Etherya’s Earth Series

http://author.to/RebeccaHefner

Acknowledgments

We begin by thanking God for the wisdom he has bestowed upon us in our later years in life. Such knowledge would have proven invaluable in our formidable years but, alas, that was not meant to be.

We would also like to express our sincere appreciation to our editor and mentor, Cara, [e-mail] We are grateful for her support and guidance.

Thank you to the staff at https://www.bookbaby.com for their professionalism and hard work in bringing this book through to its fruition.

We’d like to credit Front Cover design by https://selfpubbookcovers.com//Daniela.

Last, but certainly not least, we would like to thank our families and friends. Especially our wives Kathy and Frances, our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. We are so grateful for their support and encouragement throughout the entire process of writing Twice Upon A Time. We’ve also been fortunate to have so many friends who have supported our writing. We thank them all.

To my wife, Kathy, who loved this story from its inception.

-D. Davidson

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

-Aristotle

Author(s) Quote

The only thing sure in life is that it will end in death. Let all who read this story embrace the word possibility rather than probability. Outside all things imaginable to be given a second chance at life would be an opportunity beyond all comprehension. We spend most of our life wishing it would have been different. We make promises to ourselves and to others that we will do better if given just one more chance. Ironically, we are given that one more chance over and over until the trumpet blows and we are called away. Most of us go willingly, after some kicking and screaming, but there isn’t one soul in heaven, or elsewhere, who wouldn’t welcome a Do Over in life. What if it were possible to divide a soul in half and allow life to go on for a person in two different worlds: past and the present? The story you are about to read is incredible and impossible to believe—or is it?

D. Davidson

R. Marcano

Prologue

Summer of 1809

After the gloom of night came the comforting light of day. The hour was early, and the summer sun had just begun to rise in the city of New Orleans. Except for the warbling noise of a Purple Martin, Lake Pontchartrain seemed deserted and calm—or so eighteen-year-old Marie Catherine Laveau thought. Marie slipped out of her cumbersome wool clothing and slowly made her way down the sandy beach to the cold lake water. She was naked as a new-born baby, but the brazen young woman simply didn’t pay much mind to modesty. She was confident she was alone in her calm and tranquil surroundings. The strengthening rays of the morning sunlight warmed Marie’s bronze skin. Her eighteen-year-old body was more like that of an older woman, but her child-like innocence made her vulnerable to worldly persuasions. Marie slowly submerged her perfectly proportioned body into the cold water. She shuddered from a sudden chill and couldn’t help herself. The water around her suddenly turned warm. Marie made her way into a deeper part of the lake and stopped when the water reached chest high. The coldness quickly hardened her tiny nipples. Suddenly, Marie was unnerved by a strange sensation. It was although someone’s eyes were fixed on her. She quickly scanned the lake and then the beach. Pieces of driftwood floated lazily across the water—close to shore. No one was anywhere to be seen, but the feeling of prying eyes lingered.

Marie focused on the forested wetlands beyond the beach. An impulsive wind rustled the leaves of low growing mangrove trees—and the branches of the bald cypress bent to the will of the breeze. Marie sensed there was something terribly wrong. An eerie sound seemed to emanate from the whirling gust. It was a horrible hum that only grew louder with each passing second. Marie pressed her tiny hands against her ears to block out the terrible noise. Then, in an instance, there was an uncomfortable quiet. Not a sound could be heard. Intuition forced Marie to turn around—then stagger back. She was shocked at the sight of what appeared to be a naked white boy, perhaps eighteen or nineteen years of age, wading in the water. She ducked down, instantly fearful he might see her bareness, and the cold lake water rose to her neck. The handsome boy’s skin tone was porcelain white, and free of any blemishes. His shoulder length hair was a golden blonde, and his eyes were a mesmerizing Nordic blue. Marie’s brown eyes focused on the beads of water that slowly trickled down the young man’s bare chest. Marie worried about his intentions, and yet, even she had to admit he was darn near physically perfect.

Who are you? Marie questioned in a trembling voice.

The young man seemed to have no intention of speaking. This only added to Marie’s anxiety.

Shamefully, Marie wanted to see more of the naked body of this marvelous young male creature. And oddly, she felt no need to cover her own nudity. It was almost as though she had been charmed by some sort of black magic. As if this boy, this creature, were black magic itself. God knows what other wicked thoughts ran through the young girl’s brain. At first, Marie resisted, but it was futile. She dug her toes into the sandy lake bottom and pushed her body up to expose her bare breast to the stranger. The mysterious boy’s electric blue eyes remained fixed on her, but he still said nothing. Marie’s eyes lowered to the water directly in front of the boy—hoping to catch a glimpse of his manhood. She allowed her imagination to control her thoughts, and her body tingled with excitement. She was seized with a want that was unfamiliar and all-consuming. The mysterious boy reached out and gently stroked Marie’s soft cheek, but his face remained stoic. Strangely, Marie felt safe and unruffled. She had no fear. Just a purposeful curiosity.

Who are you? Marie repeated to the young Adonis that stood before her.

The boy’s hypnotic stare suddenly deprived Marie of her sensibility. She felt like she was surrendering to an unconsciousness. Her body began to tremble, and she instantly felt warm all over. The sensation between her thighs was nearly too much to bear. The water started to fizzle around her, and she was overcome by euphoria. She realized she was about to experience an orgasm—like none she had ever produced for herself in the past. What kind of sorcery was this imp conjuring up? Marie’s twitched her lips as she nervously gazed at the quiet stranger. Then she watched in disbelief as the teenage boy’s pale skin slowly darkened to a radish color and his blue eyes turned blood red. Marie became paralyzed with fear. What was this bizarre spectacle she was witnessing? She attempted to scream, but no sound came out. And then, everything went black.

Marie was unable to calculate how much time went by before she was once again in control of her mind. When she regained a conscious state, she was lying naked on the sand, alone, with no one else around. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, and her dark eyes perused the beach and the lake. It was deserted, and strangely, it still appeared to be early morning. Apparently, little or no time had gone by. Marie’s eye caught sight of her bundle of discarded clothes just a few feet away. She couldn’t make very much sense of it. Perhaps it was just a dream? But it was too real to be a dream. And the vision of that strange young man could not merely be a figment of her imagination? Or could it? There was no logical explanation for her weird encounter. The only thing she knew for sure was—she felt different now. Almost like a changed person. She couldn’t explain it, but she was positive; she was now an altered young woman. But was she damaged goods? There was no discomfort between her legs—like she was told to expect after engaging in willing or unwilling intercourse. If this peculiar boy did indeed violate her person; surely, there would be some evidence of physical trauma? Marie pressed her brain to try to remember? She didn’t feel violated? She considered the possibility that she had been a willing participant. It was easier for her to accept that rationalization.

Marie quickly composed herself and got dressed. With time, her surreal experience would slip away to become a fading memory. But that morning, on that deserted beach, Marie Catherine Laveau was given a special gift that would empower her for all the years to come. This newfound talent would enable her to perform incredible feats that defied all logic and understanding. She was a healer now. A bringer of hope to those who have lost their way in the murky shadows of an often, unforgiving world. She mostly focused on white magic, but when necessary, Marie would invoke the essential components of the dark side. Marie’s journey was only beginning.

CHAPTER 1

The sidewalks were buzzing with activity. Street musicians filled the air with Cajun fiddle music. Local merchants, charlatans, and pirates hawked their baubles, trinkets and other treasures to naive and gullible visitors to the decadent city on the Mississippi. It was the 15th day of July in the year of our Lord, 1837. The air was humid and sticky. A mixture of horse manure, the sweet smell of late-blooming Honeysuckle Azaleas, boiled crawfish and freshly baked beignets permeated the air. The heat of the day slowed physical activities down some, but for the most part, curious and anxious sightseers to New Orleans remained invigorated. There were, of course, the desperate whores, skulking in darken doorways, waiting to offer their favors to foolish men of all ages. These ladies of ill repute were mostly light skin creoles and white women of unescapable low moral temperament—desperate to survive the trying times. Also hidden in the shadows were the hustlers, pickpockets, and pimps who assisted the strumpets in their constant quest to attract male customers. Girls as young twelve were often sold into bondage by parents, so heavily in debt, they had no other choice. This was akin to white slavery and rarely did one of these girls live to see middle-age. The emotional and physical abuse these girls suffered was criminal, but society seemed indifferent to their plight. There were also other dangers lurking about, but they were far less conspicuous. The number of crimes such as robbery, assault, and even murder, always soared during the hot summer months. Drunken men who left saloons in the early morning hours were often shanghaied by unscrupulous seafaring captains; then forced into service on two master schooners for at least the duration of the next voyage.

Andrew Jackson, the hero of the Battle of New Orleans, had just completed his second term as President of the United States. Other icons of New Orleans such as Jean Lafitte, Daniel Carmick and the former Governor of Louisiana, the honorable William Claiborne, were now only footnotes in history. There were also infamous characters living in New Orleans that offered the city a perverse spirit and personality. Marie Delphine La Laurie, better known as Madame La Laurie, had lived in a mansion on Royal Street in the famous, Latin Quarter. The Creole woman was said to have been guilty of torturing and killing hundreds of slaves in that horrible house before she fled the country and disappeared. La Laurie would resurface some years later when she returned to the Crescent City. She would be buried in the Saint Louis Roman Catholic cemetery, but her tales of horror would never be forgotten. There were several attempts to remove her body from its crypt and burn it, but these endeavors all failed. The evil woman had her share of loyal disciples, too, who continued to worship her long after death. They would often visit her grave and recite ghoulish prayers to resurrect her unholy spirit from its entombment.

The most provocative celebrity of day was Marie Catherine Laveau, the Louisiana Queen of Voodoo. Marie Laveau was born in the French Quarter of New Orleans, about 1791. She was the daughter of bi-racial parents, one of whom was a mix of Creole and French. She was tall and stately. Marie had curly black hair and a copper tone to her skin. Her features favored her Creole bloodline, but some physical traits suggested a French ancestry as well. She spoke with a distinct Creole accent and preferred wearing long colorless dresses and gold loop earrings. Miss Laveau lived in a small white cottage on Saint Ann’s Street in the French Quarter. It was said she gave birth to two daughters from her husband and up to fifteen illegitimate children from other men. However, there were no records known to exist to support the claim that Marie Laveau bore any children out of wedlock. After her husband, Jacques Paris, died in 1829, it was rumored that Marie Laveau began to favor the companionship of well-endowed dark-skinned men of girth. It was also whispered that on some occasions, she tasted the sweet honey of young women, too. Marie was thought to possess magical powers, so her wants and desires were rarely refused by anyone. It was believed by many that Marie Laveau could conjure and communicate with the spirits of the dead. She told fortunes and often prepared gris-gris in her back room to ward off curses and other hexes that plagued the ordinary and privileged citizens of New Orleans. Legend recounted how she