Sins of the Gods

By Lyz Muino

Events from past lives in ancient Egypt and revolutionary France continue to torment Helena in her current life. As a young widow in New York City, Helena is having a long love affair with Charles. He is a married man and a prosperous psychologist.

The book opens on regression therapy sessions conducted by Charles. Under hypnosis, Helena relives a past life in France when she had a passionate romance with Martin. She realizes Charles is the reincarnation of Martin.

As France plunged into the brutality of the revolution, her home in France was attacked by troops under the command of Monsieur Antoine. He ordered the killing of her entire family and confiscated their land.

She concocted a plan for revenge, but meanwhile, Martin was forced by his family to marry another woman. She kept waiting for Martin to fulfill his promise to return so that they could escape together, but she was kidnapped and sold as a slave to Monsieur Antoine.

Helena is haunted by those traumatic memories as she lives between the past and the present. She seeks answers to her conflicts through prayers. She hypnotizes herself and encounters spiritual masters who take her to even more remote memories. She learns that her romance with Charles started in ancient Egypt during a battle for the throne among the pharaohs. Helena and Charles still have a mission to complete before they can be happy together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524655716

Lyz Muino

Resides in New York City, she is an artist, wife, mother, and grandmother. She is an active and devoted animal/children/homeless rights advocate. This is her first novel. Contact author at [e-mail].

Book preview

Chapter 1

FRANCE, 1788

August, an afternoon of scorching heat

Francesca held a small, silver dagger in her right hand. She was determined to vindicate the recent deaths of family members, even if she paid with her own life.

Suddenly, the beautiful young lady stopped. She saw the man she was seeking. She had never seen him before, but he stood out as the King’s commander of the cavalry. He was the fearful Monsieur Antoine Macedo.

As she looked at him, she relived the agonizing scenes of her family being tortured and killed, and then burned. Francesca could still smell burnt human flesh.

The fury in Francesca’s eyes contrasted with the tranquility of the afternoon in Bezons, a village in the northeastern suburbs of Paris. The passersby strolled leisurely on the streets. On that hot afternoon, sweat streamed from the temples of the vendors. They were hawking silk, honey, live chickens and pigs.

The village appeared to be in perfect order under the proud watch of the cavalry troop that occupied the post for the King of France. In spite of the country’s social injustice and its totalitarian government, people appeared to be calm on that tranquil afternoon.

The ladies and young girls were showing off the latest fashions. Some wore well-tailored, organza dresses and exhibited jewels of precious stones. Slaves accompanied them. Others were simple country maidens in search of wares.

Francesca was feeling the heat that unforgettable afternoon. Her hair was disheveled. With her big eyes wide open, she stared at Monsieur Antoine as if she were a wild beast poised to attack her prey.

He was tall and robust. His cold eyes were like emeralds without a shine. He never showed any kind of emotion. Many people said this man did not have a heart and that his soul belonged to the devil.

His light skin highlighted his masculine beauty, and he was impeccably dressed in his uniform. Nobody confronted him because they feared incarceration in political prison. Under his cold-blooded leadership and iron hand, he maintained order and imposed discipline.

He kept his soldiers on alert, ready to attack. He did not accept any slip ups since he was accountable to the general, and sometimes, directly to the king.

The country was facing the beginnings of revolutionary unrest, influenced by ideas of Illumination and American Independence.

Meanwhile, Francesca stood like a human statue. Her lips seemed to be made of wax. She was thinking of the best way to attack that man when she felt a light breeze ruffling her hair. She opened her beautiful brown eyes even more, and for a long time, she fastened them on Monsieur Antoine.

He seemed to be lost in his own day dreams, but he was soon awakened from them by the strength of the hatred Francesca carried with her. She looked at him, feeling in her heart the desire for revenge. While she stared at him, she attacked him in her mind for the cowardice with which he destroyed her home, her family.

Francesca suffered the most thinking about her younger sister. She knew the soldiers had raped her before her death. She visualized the desperation of the animals enclosed in the stable while the flames thrashed upwards around them, destroying everything. At that moment, she cried the cruelest tears she had ever shed in her entire life.

Francesca stood still. It was as if her world had been summed up completely by that man and the pain that consumed her.

Meanwhile, Monsieur Antoine was admiring that beautiful young woman with an audacity that profoundly disturbed him. He admired that slender body and dark hair. Her lips, the color of red roses, were ready to be kissed. He wanted to approach her. He felt agitated. He could not decipher her look, and in a way, she intrigued him.

The young woman grabbed a handful of dirt. Without taking her eyes off Monsieur Antoine, she shouted, I swear I will kill you and destroy you.

Angry, he wanted to punish her. He spurred his horse, and at that moment, the dirt from Francesca’s open fist blew into his eyes. Francesca heard a voice calling her back to reality. That was how a moment of agony was played out. It had been engraved for two centuries in the soul of the beautiful young woman. Charles’ voice became louder and more demanding. He called one more time.

Francesca refused to leave that place that was so decisive in her life. She refused to leave Monsieur Antoine. Charles tried to force her to return, and she got up with an aggressive attitude.

In a firm voice, Charles called to Helena. Helena, everything is okay. You are with me. You can relax.

Helena responded, je suis bien.

Charles exclaimed, I don’t speak French.

Helena screamed, Damn you. You killed my family. Damn you. I hate you.

Only after a few minutes, Charles was able to make Helena conscious of her present life. Settling into the comfort of the tranquil ambience and the candlelight, they kept talking for awhile.

Helena was surprised with the resurfacing of her first experience. She left after drinking a glass of water while Charles made certain she was well and fully conscious.

That was Helena’s first session of returning to the past.

Chapter 2

After her first session, the days went by slowly for Helena while she was reliving the agonizing memories of her past life. She cried, trying to remember more, but nothing happened. On the day of her long awaited session, Helena woke up happy. It was her birthday, and she felt beautiful. She prayed for the protection of the family she loved so much.

She was driving on a stretch of road she knew so well, smiling, remembering her childhood with her aunts and uncles.

Her heart warmed with the memories of the love she received from her great-grandmother, Dona Francisca. Suddenly, she almost swerved off the road, realizing that her great grandmother was no longer there. She had passed away several years ago.

On that very special day, she remembered every moment of her childhood.

She could see herself as a child again, running barefoot through the fields, climbing the mountains, the trees and the corrals. She was savoring the wild fruits, swimming in the rivers, and horseback riding.

Helena loved to watch the cows in the pasture. Sometimes she would get lost when she searched for birds’ nests, but her family always found her.

Helena was a happy child. She was so happy that she never noticed the financial difficulties of her family.

As the child she was, she didn’t have a notion of wealth or poverty. She had never seen a different lifestyle during her childhood. She thought others lived the same way, appreciating nature and talking to animals.

At dusk, she would sit in her great-grandmother’s lap. Cowboys would visit her family. Those were moments of joy as each one told a different story, tales that were always full of ghosts. Meanwhile, they nibbled appetizers and enjoyed the aromatic coffee.

Helena in her sweet innocence listened, astounded. She would be silent, staring with her little eyes. Then, she would sleep in the inviting lap of her great-grandmother.

The night was always beautiful and tranquil. It brought stars that lit up the sky. The tired cowboys would say good-bye.

Those were the summer nights during her childhood in Brazil when Helena lived in a humble house in the country.

Helena’s memories were interrupted with the honking of other cars. As she drove, she sang songs she had learned from her great-grandmother during her sweet childhood.

Helena was now an adult, and she felt free and happy again. She appreciated nature on that beautiful day. She enjoyed the fresh breeze and the greenery of the trees before parking her car.

She thought to herself, Life is so beautiful! What a marvelous city, New York!

She arrived at Charles’ office and made herself comfortable after the secretary attended her. She waited serenely.

Since the day Helena met Charles in New York 15 years ago, she felt protected next to that masculine figure.

Charles was a psychologist. He believed in the therapy of past lives through hypnosis.

Professionally, he was a successful man. He was young, and he enjoyed a life full of luxury, complete with the abundant inheritance left by his parents.

He was of French and British descent. He had an elegant and almost arrogant posture. He was tall. His black heir was well combed and contrasted well with the light skin that showed off his big, blue eyes.

Charles fell in love with Helena since the moment he met her. She worked as a hostess in a restaurant where he used to have lunch.

Staying together after lunch was among the small games they started playing with each other. They walked on the streets of Central Park. They went to museums and art galleries.

They talked about everything, and Helena learned more about the culture of the country. She learned more English while Charles laughed out loud when she spoke with a very heavy accent.

Soon after, their romantic encounters became constant. They were already in love. For nearly 15 years, they had a romance without a solution and with hardly any hope for the future.

Charles arrived, and soon greeted Helena.

Affectionately, he touched her shoulders. With a smile on his lips, he wished her a happy birthday.

How are you Helena? Are you well?

She answered, Yes, I am. How about you?

She expected Charles to kiss her, but there was no kiss. As usual, their eyes met and interlocked.

Sometimes, when they were very close to each other, they could hear one another’s rapid heartbeats. Filled with emotion, they would move away from each other without saying a word.

After several minutes, he said he was ready to begin the session. Without much conversation, they entered the other room.

He helped Helena become more comfortable. With a sweet and soft voice he began the hypnosis with a relaxation procedure.

SECOND SESSION

Charles began to speak with a firmer voice. Helena listened attentively. Little by little, she started relaxing. She felt a marvelous sensation.

Soon she saw herself walking on a long road. She was enchanted by the lavender that covered both sides of the road.

She was dressed in a beautiful, blue indigo dress. She walked slowly, intoxicated by the breeze and the scent. They provoked sensations of liberty and happiness.

She kept on walking. Soon she saw the first images of the scenes of her life. She noticed she was going back in time.

She was walking to meet the memories. She began to describe the details of each situation.

She described pleasant scenes of her life, such as the day of her wedding, the happy days at her husband’s side.

She saw her children, still sweet and affectionate, running in the backyard of her house while she prepared the meals. Then she would play with them and tell children’s stories until they went to sleep.

During those moments of sweet memories the light purple color of the blossoming lavender was brilliant. Each flower was a small violet light forming an enormous arrangement of flowers and lights.

Then Helena saw many images that were not pleasant. There were fights with the husband that began after the birth of the third child.

By then he had turned into a violent man. He was never satisfied with anything. He became impatient with banalities.

Helena faced constant physical abuse until the day he died tragically at the age of 28. He left Helena alone in life with three children. During those moments of sad memories, she relived each scene as if time had not gone by.

The same flowers that were brilliant were now withering, slowly losing the colors of life. Helena walked a little more, leaving behind the sad memories.

Eventually, she felt like she had been born three days ago. She remained there, describing every movement of the people near her. In that instant, the lavender began to flower again. She could even smell the place and feel the comfort of the little clothes she wore.

At the command of Charles’ sweet voice, she left the place to return to the uterus of her mother. She could feel precisely the protection of that place, and she could even feel the movements of her mother.

At a certain point, she felt that the body that covered her was making a great effort, forcing itself to produce contractions. She felt something different, but she had already felt that sensation on other occasions. Then she felt the convulsion, and soon after, everything was peaceful.

She remained in that position for some time until she noticed that there was no one there who could touch her.

That sensation was inexplicable. Everything was too perfect. She felt secure, whole. She was conscious of another body protecting her and covering her. Helena loved the sensation of being untouchable. She wanted to remain that way forever.

Then, she heard Charles’ voice urging her to return even further back in time. Soon she saw herself elsewhere.

She was alone and sad. The place was very different. There was light and darkness at the same time. It felt like she was in space, but she was not allowed to leave.

She felt the sensation of being nowhere. There was a strange emptiness, without color and without light.

She seemed to be in a small and isolated house. There was nothing near her, not even animals and plants. There was no life. Everything seemed to made only for her.

From the window, she could see the sky lit up with the stars and moon. Soon everything became black. It seemed as if she were waiting for someone or something. At the same time, it seemed as if she were not expecting anything.

Helena felt like she was inside nothing. She couldn’t say how long she had remained there, without anybody, without illusions. She did not know if one day she could leave. She did not know how to get out of there.

Helena knew she was there for a reason. Sometimes she was fearful. Sometimes, she felt peaceful.

She noticed she had several injuries on her body. They seemed to be deep burns, and she felt pain.

Occasionally, she would see a faint light illuminating the entire atmosphere, and then it would disappear. During those moments, she felt relief.

Again, Helena heard Charles’ voice, and following the command of that firm voice, she arrived at the end of the road. There was a huge gate.

Helena described the huge gate. It was made of gold, and it was very old. The details on the gate were carved in relief. There were bodies with angel and devil faces. They were right next to each other. Two hands held an old key.

Two huge swords encrusted with emeralds formed the opening of the two doors.

The faces moved with terror and sighed with pain. Some were furious. They were trying to leave that prison with chains of gold.

They managed to move their arms to grab Helena. The place had a terrible smell. Helena’s cries of terror filled the air. She felt dominated by the fury of those monsters. A heavy fog began to come from nowhere.

She heard Charles say, Now, grab the key with your hands, firmly and quickly. Open the gate.

With a super human effort, Helena managed to grab the key and open the doors. Even though they made the sound of old and heavy doors, they were as light as feathers.

When Helena entered, she still heard the clattering of the doors closing behind her.

Chapter 3

Helena heard Charles saying, Now describe calmly everything you see and feel on the other side of the gate.

She answered, I am in the same place as I was during the last session. I am living in the village of Bezons in 1788.

Charles asked, How do you feel?

Helena then described every detail. Her heart raced wildly, and she was there again in the same place as the last session in the same village with the same people.

Everything was exactly the same as she had left it. It was as if she never left. She looked at the rowdy children, and then she saw Monsieur Antoine.

Then, Charles said, Speak with me.

She answered, My name is Francesca. Again, she was Francesca, and again, she behaved like Francesca. The look on her face showed the hatred that filled her heart. She was so torn by the latest incidents.

She looked intently. Her disoriented thoughts found him to be the untouchable man of those whereabouts. He was the one who destroyed everything in her life.

Holding the handful of earth, she swore she would destroy and kill Monsieur Antoine. Her soul cried the most bitter of tears, but her eyes were dry and cold.

The breeze that touched her face lightly made her sigh profoundly. With her gaze fixed on that elegant man, she said in a soft voice, If I try to kill him now, I probably won’t succeed. I have to find a more certain way.

Then, she thought, "you are untouchable, you damned man. So, I will make you beg for my pardon. I won’t pity you, just as you were merciless with my family.

I will cry tears of blood, and you will give me back everything you took away from me. I will persecute you for all of eternity.

If necessary, I will go to hell to find you. I will fly through the skies and cross seas, guided by the hatred I feel now."

In that instant she noticed Monsieur Antoine’s look. It was a look that was at the same time full of desire and fury.

He wanted to punish her, but at the same time he wanted to possess her. It was an inexplicable attraction that he felt for the maiden.

Francesca, conscious of her beauty, quickly designed a plan for seduction. It would be the easiest way to carry out her intentions.

In her thoughts, she said, "I will make him love me more than anything in this world.

Then, I will have his soul and his body. He will cry in my arms, and he will give me back every last sheep in the flock.

Yes, you will give me back my land. For killing my family, you will restore the peace in my heart with your own blood."

Francesca shouted and threatened to kill him. Meanwhile, Monsieur Antoine looked at her with surprise and admiration.

He was captivated by that look he could not decipher. He felt a strong urge to embrace the maiden. He even felt like he wanted to protect her.

He wanted to hold her in his arms at any cost. For the first time in his life, he felt something in his soul he had never felt before. He could not define his feelings.

All he knew was that the maiden fascinated him. He fixed his glassy eyes on that beauty of a country maiden, and he undressed her with his look.

He noticed she dressed in clothes simpler than those of courtiers, but she was not a peasant like the ones one saw there every day.

He had never seen that maiden there before. He noticed she had fine features, the posture of a courtier, delicate gestures. She also had a cold look that he never saw before.

He felt weak in the face of that unexpected seduction. He wanted to approach her to punish her. Brutally, he spurred his horse. The horse lifted its hoofs and neighed loudly as if it were protesting.

Francesca felt cold chills in the face of danger, but calmly, she turned around and walked gracefully until he could no longer see her among the passersby.

It was then that Monsieur Antoine and Francesca unknowingly had once again meshed their destinies in an abyss of hatred that only time would extinguish.

The day went by slowly for Monsieur Antoine, who could not forget the young maiden.

He looked everywhere for her. He did not want to order his men to find the young lady because love was his only plan for her.

He did not want to arrest her, even though he had the power to do so.

He did not want to share her with anybody else. He wanted to find her somewhere, but he did not want to ask anybody about the maiden who fascinated him so much.

He never demonstrated weakness in front of his men. He began to feel frustrated. He felt a deep sadness at not seeing her.

He remembered her with minute details, the hair, the big dark eyes. He continued to look for her all night. He wanted to decipher that look, that face that penetrated his feelings that afternoon.

Monsieur Antoine did not know that the maiden who fascinated him was the daughter of the owners of the small chateau on the land that had recently been confiscated.

It was property that was completely destroyed through his heinous crimes. It was set on fire so as not to leave any traces.

In that way he would confiscate land to increase his own fortune. It was a fortune gained from the blood and suffering of the innocent. He would keep getting richer. He was proud of his work and the fortune he had accumulated.

He knew the country was on the brink of a revolution. The future was uncertain, but his fortune was ready.

He was accustomed to serving the king who governed with absolute power. The subjects could not even express their opinions about their form of government.

Considering the way things were, Monsieur Antoine obeyed orders. Without any pity and with hands of iron, he would jail the opposition.

The destiny of each prisoner was not a problem for Monsieur Antoine.

French society was stratified and hierarchical. The clergy was at the top of the social pyramid.

The nobility was comprised by the king, his family, his counts, dukes, marquis and other nobles.

The base of the society was built on the third class, workers, peasants and the small commercial bourgeoisie. They supported the entire society with their work and high taxes.

The peasants and workers lived in extreme poverty. Although the bourgeoisie enjoyed higher social status, they wished for greater political participation and more economic liberty.

Monsieur Antoine knew the revolution was coming and could bring drastic changes to the kingdom. He knew he would soon leave the country if it became necessary. He was not loyal to the king to the extreme of risking his life.

As the son of a Portuguese father and a French mother, he didn’t have any attachment to the country or to anyone.

He had arrived in France when he was still a poor boy abandoned by his family. He was imprisoned when he stole a piece of bread on the streets of Paris. He fought with the soldier who arrested him, and he almost managed to escape.

Soon after he was captured, the soldier, impressed with the cleverness of the boy, decided to protect him and train him to serve the king. He was determined to make that man the best soldier the king ever had.

The boy grew up and became the commander of the cavalry. He had power, but he did not have feelings for those less favored by luck.

The king himself offered him the right to own certain lands. They were properties that did not have owners or inheritors. Sometimes, they were lands that were confiscated by the government for non-payment of taxes or for other reasons.

So that is how the king paid Antoine for dirty work that benefited the king or the general. The king did not even want to know about the atrocities committed by Monsieur Antoine to obtain those confiscated lands.

Since Monsieur Antoine’s tyranny was well-known in those whereabouts, everyone feared for their lives. Those who did not obey his orders ended-up dead or in prison.

Everyone knew that when he invaded other lands he always killed the entire family. First he would let his companions satisfy their sexual desires with the women and even with the children. Soon after, he would burn everything and everyone.

After showing the king the reason for confiscating land, it would be put in his name. Then he would sell the land and keep the money in huge sums in hiding places no one would find.

Monsieur Antoine never imagined that there was a survivor from the land that was last confiscated. That person was his beloved maiden with the long hair and indecipherable look.

He did not know that the men he trusted did not tell him that a member of the family was absent at the time of the crime.

A slip like this one would certainly cost them their lives. They decided not to tell Monsieur Antoine. They were sure that the poor young lady would be considered crazy, and then killed.

While the commander searched for Francesca, she cried in her mournful solitude for the death of her dear ones and planned her revenge against Monsieur Antoine.

She saw her life full of dreams transformed into an abyss of bitterness. Until then she had been happy with her family and her fiance, Martin.

Martin was the son of nobility. He enjoyed going to banquets and luxurious court parties. He was tall and elegant. He possessed a rare beauty. Because of his social status, he was sought after by the finest maidens in Paris and the surrounding region.

Like any gentleman, he did not have any work to do in addition to writing letters, giving speeches, practicing fencing or dancing. For pleasure, he occupied