Anne, Psychic Medium

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Anne's Autobiography

Earth Angel


Anne has been working for the last two years on her autobiography.
She hopes you will enjoy the read and find it uplifting.

Within its 239 pages, Anne charts her childhood and family experiences, her time working at psychic fairs,
and her psychic development workshops, always with humour and deep insight.
Every step along the way was a learning experience.
£10.00 plus postage and packing
Earth Angel Cover
ISBN 978-0-9569018-0-4
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"Hi Anne, Thank you again for the great reading the other day. I have just finished reading your book which I thoroughly enjoyed ..." Carole, by E-mail.

"Anne, Congratulations on your wonderful book 'Earth Angel'. Inspiring, motivating, a true joy to read - Thank you! I look forward to purchasing many copies! All my love." Mary, by Thankyou card.

"Hi Anne, Hope you are well. Just a quick email to say I have just finished reading your book - it was fantastic!!! It was such a joy to read, it almost felt like you were sitting in the room with me, talking about your experiences face to face (I'm sure anyone who has had readings with you will feel the same when they read it) It truly is an inspirational book and I really hope with all my heart you sell loads of copies. ... it will give people a "real" insight into the life of a medium (with all the good and bad stuff that comes with it!)..." Sian, by E-mail.
Anne's book is now available on all Kindle readers!

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Below is the "blurb" on the back of Anne's autobiography, followed by the Prologue, just to give you a feel for what's in the book.

Back of the book...

Over here we call mediums Earth Angels! You are our little Earth Angel,’ the spirit gentleman whispered to Anne.

Since her early childhood unusual events surrounded Anne, which continued throughout her adult life. After praying to know when her dying father would pass over, so she could be there for him, she was overwhelmed to receive a powerful vision. This vision confirmed to her the reality of an afterlife.

Her journey had begun …

From psychic fairs to ‘haunted’ locations, and many other amazing and sometimes comical events, Anne tells her incredible story with down-to-earth humour and sometimes brutal honestly.

Anne also shares her controversial views on subjects, such as:

• Why ‘bad stuff’ happens.
• Past Lives.
• Cosmic Ordering.
• Religion.

In this remarkable book, Anne clearly illustrates how close our loved ones truly are…

Prologue


March 5th 1999.

Oh my God! I take a sneaky nip out of my hip flask, glancing round to make sure that no one has noticed. They haven’t; they’re all too busy preparing their tables for the evening.

Nervously I pick up the rose-quartz crystal I’ve just purchased and squeeze it tightly between my sweaty palms. Jo at the crystal stall assured me it would settle my nerves. It doesn’t seem to be working too well.

‘Please be with me tonight, you lot,’ I mutter repeatedly.

As I watch the assortment of tarot readers, psychics and mediums laugh and joke with each other as they prepare for the evening ahead, I wonder what on earth I’m doing sitting here pretending to be one of them. They all look so professional, so confident, so flipping serene and spiritual. I feel like a fake. I want to go and hide behind the aloe vera stall with my husband Andy. Better still, go and lock myself in the toilets for the night, but it’s too late to back out now…

It’s fifteen minutes to show time!

One of the readers arrives late and hurries over to the empty table next to me, eager to set up before the public arrives. It’s Minnie, a very popular tarot reader. Her usual purple robes swish around as she unpacks her tablecloth and bits and pieces.

I glance down at myself. Hmm, maybe my pink Bag-puss T-shirt was a bit of a mistake.

‘Hi, Anne!’ Minnie sings in her usual cheerful tone. Suddenly she stops setting up her table and turns her full attention to me. ‘What are you doing? Why aren’t you at the aloe vera stall?’

‘I’m reading today,’ I mutter sheepishly.

Minnie’s almost black eyes pop open in amazement. ‘You? Reading? But you’re not a psychic! You shouldn’t run before you can walk, sweetheart!’ With a toss of her wild black hair, Minnie turns away and continues in silence to set-up, throwing me the occasional dark look.

In a way, I can’t blame Minnie. I can see I’ve had quite a few baffled looks from the other ten readers around the hall. For the past year-and-a-half I’ve been attending the psychic fairs with Andy, selling health and beauty products. Now suddenly, I’m sitting here on a small table of my own, with just my lamp and a few crystals for company, proclaiming to be a reader!

No wonder the others are puzzled. I’ve never even mentioned to anyone that it’s always been my dream to work for Spirit. Until this moment I honestly thought the chances of it happening were so remote, there was more chance of me becoming the next Prime Minister of Great Britain.

But Spirit had other ideas…

A tall blond man in his fifties approaches my table. It’s Roger. ‘All right, Anne?’ he asks kindly. ‘You look a bit shaky, love!’

I nod. ‘I’m okay, thanks.’

He sits down and takes my hand. ‘I just wanted to wish you luck. You know, Anne, you’re as good as anyone here. Don’t forget that, okay? You’ll be fantastic.’ He gets up, gives me a wink and goes back to his table.

A massive lump forms in my throat. He’ll never know how much those few simple words will mean to me. Another reader, Julie, comes over and presses something in my hand. ‘For courage and strength,’ she whispers, and then slips away. It’s a tiny slither of light blue crystal; I don’t know what it’s called, but that doesn’t matter. I do find strength, but not from the crystal, from her kindness.

I glance at the clock. Five minutes to show time!

Carol is doing her usual rounds smudging the hall with some evil smelling concoction, which supposedly clears the air of negative energy. The overpowering whiff has me reaching for my asthma inhaler.

Pete, the fair organiser, is chiming some Chinese clearing bells. The sound is quite soothing and somehow calms me a little. The CD player is wafting out some new age track – all moody drums and mystic chanting.

The scene is set. All that’s needed are the ‘punters’ as most of the readers call the public.

Tinkle of coins at the door alert me that the first people have arrived, and are staring round expectantly at the array of stalls and readers. I find myself praying for a meteor to come crashing down. Just outside the hall of course, as I wouldn’t want anyone to be hurt, only distracted. A few minutes pass, but no sign of the meteor! The three elderly women are drawing closer to my table. I realise that I’ll have to make my own plans for escape.

The toilets!

My face is bright red and my chest and neck has broken out in its usual nervous rash. I splash cold water on my face and stare angrily at my reflection. Get a grip, Anne! This is what you want, isn’t it? I can do this. I know I can. I’ve got to do it!

But maybe Minnie’s right! I’ve never sat in circle. I’ve never been to any psychic development class or group. I don’t even have a clue how to read a palm or tarot cards like the others. God, I don’t even know all the flipping astrology signs!

Maybe I’m just kidding myself I can do this. Am I ready to be let loose on the public? I’m thirty years old, not very young, but the youngest reader here. They’ve all had so much more experience than me. I close my eyes as I battle with myself and am suddenly aware of my friends from Spirit around me.

You’ll be fine! I hear in my head.

I wait to hear any more great words of inspiration from ‘That Lot Upstairs’, but as nothing is forthcoming, I slowly make my way back to my table. To my horror, one of the elderly women is sitting there, obviously waiting for me.

‘Hello dear, the lady at the door said you’re doing readings for five pounds today. Is that right?’

‘Yes. This is my first day,’ I explain. ‘So if you’re happy to be my guinea pig…’

She stares critically at me for a second, and then breaks into a smile, plonking a fiver into my sweaty hand. ‘Let’s give it a go, shall we?’ I quickly put the money to one side. I dare not take it in case it jinxes the reading.

‘I’m after contact with the other side,’ she tells me.

‘I’ll do my best,’ I say, silently yelling at my guides for help. They don’t let me down. Within seconds, I’m strongly aware of a man standing next to me. I don’t see him with my physical eyes, but all the same, I know he’s there.

I describe him and tell her I could hear him saying that he’s called Jim.

‘It’s my husband,’ she says in wonder. I don’t know who is more surprised – her or me! This man draws so close to me I can literally feel the love he has for his wife. He gives me many facts about her and her family, which she can verify. The reading lasts around half-an-hour, and in that time I’m so focused the meteor I’d wished for earlier could’ve crashed outside, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

After the reading, she says she can’t thank me enough that I’ve put her mind at rest about her beloved Jim.

When she’s gone, I pop outside to take a breather. I’m on such a high! It’s the most wonderful exhilarating feeling in the world. I stare up at the evening sky and notice how bright the stars look. It’s like I’ve been wandering around with tunnel vision, and now suddenly everything is in sharp focus.

Back at my table, a young man in his twenties approaches, grinning sheepishly at me. ‘Give us a reading,’ he says. ‘I don’t believe in all this mumbo-jumbo, but my other half is well in to it. I’ll give it a go for a fiver. All the others are charging thirty smackaroonies!’

I smile weakly, not liking the idea of having a sceptic thrust upon me so quickly.

Actually, the reading goes quite well. Nothing to set the world on fire, and nowhere as good as the elderly lady, but I manage to pick up some good solid stuff; mostly about his work and relationship. His granddad makes a very short appearance, but soon disappears when it becomes apparent the young guy isn’t too fussed about the ‘dead dudes’! It’s really more of a psychic read, but that’s fine. I watch him re-join his girlfriend at the crystal stall, chattering away animatedly as he points me out.

Nine readings later and I’ve never felt so utterly shattered in my life.

The crowds have thinned out and there’s only a few people left, finishing off their readings. Pete strolls over to collect my table rent. I give him half of the forty-five pounds I’ve taken. This is what we’ve agreed before the fair. The other readers pay a set fee of sixty-five pounds.

‘Well, young lady, all the reports we’ve had about you have been excellent this evening, so I’m happy to offer you a regular table if you’d like. The only thing is a couple of the readers don’t like you undercutting them, so you’ll have to charge thirty quid from now on.’

I nod, still feeling giddy from the success of the evening.

‘I’d really like to do a few more,’ I say, wondering what I’m letting myself in for…


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