Prologue: The Blue That Remembers Ellurien drifted through the dark like a thought that refused to fade. From far away, the planet looked gentle—blue and white, veined with clouds that curled like slow smoke. Sunlight spilled across its oceans in bands of molten silver. At night, lightning stitched the storm-belts with silent thread, and the auroras moved over the poles in patient curtains, as if the world wore its own dreams on its skin. But what made Ellurien rare was not i

There’s a special moment every reader of metaphysical fiction remembers: that feeling when a story opens not just a door into another world, but a door inside you. A moment when your pulse races from the tension on the page, but your mind races because something deeper—something true—feels like it’s waking up. That’s the essence of the metaphysical thriller , a genre that blends the heart-pounding tension of mystery and suspense with the expansive terrain of consciousness, sp

The Ascent to Healing Mist clung to the ridgelines like a second skin. It softened the sawteeth of the Appalachians, making them appear almost merciful. Cole guided his old pickup along the winding two-lane road threading through the hills. One hand was steady on the wheel, while the other worried the fray on his jacket's cuff. The radio had given up on music two counties back, settling into a low static reminiscent of rain on a tent. He let it whisper. The air smelled of wet

Part One: Flight Across the Desert The highway stretched like a black ribbon through the desert night, its edges swallowed by sand and...

The Struggles of a Young Smith The winter wind clawed through the village, sharp as a knife, carrying the smell of smoke and sickness. Frost clung to the thatched roofs, turning every breath into a ghost. Inside the forge, the fire roared, but Darian still shivered. Sweat slid down his soot-streaked face as he fought with the iron bar glowing in his tongs. He had hammered it flat, then curved it, only to watch cracks spread like veins through its surface. Another day ruined.

Prologue   Jerusalem slept uneasily beneath the silver gaze of the moon. In the tangled streets above, dogs barked and merchants snored,...

Part 1: Thread of Light Daniel Rhys awoke with tears on his cheeks. They were not tears of sorrow but something harder to name—something luminous and aching, like a memory just out of reach. It felt like a memory that didn’t belong to this life. His sheets clung to him like mist, the sweat cooling against his skin in the pre-dawn quiet. A low hum reverberated through his bones, like the fading chord of a forgotten song. The room was still, but the air vibrated as if the dream

When I sit down to write, I’m never just writing a  story. I’m building a universe. Not in the traditional sense—not with blueprints or...

Part 1: Before the Storm The storm had arrived without warning—thunder rolling like a drumbeat from some forgotten age, lightning...

I still remember the first time I heard the name Edgar Cayce . I was just a boy—too young to understand fully the weight of his...

by Bill Combs Part I: The Contraction Gabe Whitman moved through the morning like a ghost in his own life. The alarm chirped at 6:05...

He sat alone on the ledge, legs dangling over the edge like a child teasing gravity. Seattle spread below him, draped in the last violet...

When people ask me where the characters of The Quantum Gate  came from, I often smile and say, “They’ve always been with me.” And it’s...

Since publishing The Quantum Gate , I’ve been overwhelmed—in the best way—by the messages, questions, and heartfelt reflections from...

By Bill Combs      Part 1: The Locker Door to Nowhere I’ve always suspected that my locker was trying to kill me. Maybe it’s the way the...

By Bill Combs | www.billcombs.com I didn’t become an author to chase fame or fill a bookshelf. I became an author because something in me...

Part I: The Cracks in the Mirror The kettle screamed in protest as Elara forgot it — again. She stood in the middle of her kitchen,...

I. The Gift and the Isolation Amari was born in the eye of a solar storm. They said the sky split open that night — the stars blurred...

Ethan Pierce sat in his office, surrounded by books and papers, staring at his computer screen with an intensity that made his eyes ache....

In the late autumn of 1925, deep in the Black Forest of Germany, a young Albert Einstein sought solitude in a rustic cabin tucked away...