The Story Behind the Gate

How a Lifetime of Wonder Became a Journey of Fiction and Faith

I still remember the first time I heard the name Edgar Cayce. I was just a boy—too young to fully understand the weight of his prophecies or the depth of his insights, but old enough to know that something about him lit a fire in me. There was something thrilling, even sacred, about the idea that a man could lie down, enter a trance, and speak of things lost to time: Atlantis, the Hall of Records, the deeper design of the soul.

Back then, the Hall of Records wasn’t just a legend. It was real to me. Not because I had proof, but because I could feel it. The way some kids dream of pirate treasure or becoming an astronaut, I dreamed of standing at the threshold of that sacred Hall—uncovering lost truths about our origins, our purpose, and what it truly means to be human.

That fascination didn’t fade. It matured.

As I grew older, I began to immerse myself in the teachings of various metaphysical traditions—studying spiritual science, energy dynamics, ancient civilizations, sacred geometry, and the esoteric blueprints hidden in plain sight throughout history. I wasn’t just hungry for knowledge—I was ravenous for understanding. For meaning. For the thread that might tie it all together.

And stories... I devoured them. Especially those that danced along the edges of the seen and unseen. Books like Initiation by Elizabeth Haich cracked open ancient memory. Lost Horizon by James Hilton gave me the haunting beauty of a world just beyond reach. And alongside them came countless spiritual works, and endless words from mystics of the past—each one adding a brick to the inner temple being built within me.

And yet, despite all that inner exploration, the writing part of me went quiet for a time. Life, as it does, pulled me into its current—raising a family, building a career, navigating the ordinary miracles and struggles of day-to-day existence. But the fire never died.

It just waited.

Years later, it was the gentle, insistent encouragement of close friends and family that nudged me back to the page. They saw something in me I wasn’t quite ready to claim: that the stories I had kept locked inside might actually be worth sharing.

The final push came during several deep meditative sessions—moments of stillness where images, characters, and ideas would rise like echoes from some ancient well. The story that would become The Quantum Gate began to unfold before me. Not as a plot, but as a knowing.

What emerged was more than a novel. It was a vessel.

A vessel for ideas that had taken root in me across a lifetime:

• That Unity Resonance—the harmonic alignment between beings—is real, and sacred.

• That inner evolution, not outer conquest, is the truest form of power.

• That our past, no matter how fractured, holds keys to our future.

• And that the greatest truth of all may be this: There are always more possibilities.

  
  

Those became the cornerstones of The Quantum Gate.

Of course, on the surface, it's a story of ancient secrets, quantum mysteries, and a man trying to outrun his past. But beneath the surface, it's a whisper—a reminder that there is more to this life than what we’ve been told. That we are not just observers of reality... we are its co-creators.

This book is my offering. My bridge between the visible and the invisible.

“You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” — Rumi

For those who’ve read it, or are about to, I hope it entertains you deeply. But more than that, I hope it stirs something within you. A question. A memory. A quiet sense of wonder that perhaps, just perhaps… the Gate is real. And it's waiting for all of us.

With gratitude,

Bill Combs