A tower in a book within a book... Inside a dream more real than reality.

Magical Blend magazine (Oct. 2000):

"Do you remember when you stepped onto the path of enlightenment? In The Immortal Tower Dawn Rouncville has created amazing fiction that explores that experience. Gorgeous imagery and a sense of calm and peace await you. Purple dolphins leap from the pages, as you explore a sanctuary on a warm ocean island. Join protagonist Joan Renko on her search for enlightenment and herself."

Chapters Book Reviews (3/12/00):

"A fantastic, psychological thriller, The Immortal Tower by Dawn Rouncville, tells the tale of Joan Renko, a woman who attempts to bring her spiritual side into step with the rest of her life. Her spirituality receives invigoration by her dreams, a special book and even by her normal waking life. Soon she adopts a new attitude and has a new outlook on life that leads her to a more satisfying existence. This well-crafted novel moves fluidly and offers touching passages of reflections and spiritual enlightenment."

Abbey Reviews (1/15/00):

"When it comes time to awaken to the spiritual path and a mission, it is a shock for Joan Renko. In her dreams she swims with Dolphins, meets with Joe, her light-hearted spirit-guide, the mysterious 'Ellbe' Myleen in the form of a small white crab, and encounters her own 'Immortal Tower'.

"However, the challenges the experiences confront her with lead her to seek new friends in her 'normal physical life'. A neighbor introduces her to Max, a real estate broker, eccentric spiritual teacher who stirs up even more confusion, and leads her to the precipice of changing her entire approach to relationships, her friendships, and her job. Woven into the story are Joan's waking dreams and meditations", which awaken her gradually to her own identity as a light being (LB) capable of wielding the ultimate power of the universe.

"In the process she discovers a book called 'The Immortal Tower' in which the main character is her spirit-guide, Joe Lemenchuk. Her spiritual initiation is thus represented on three parallel levels: the book, her dream world, and her normal life. Miraculously, one never loses sight of which is which. Slowly, painfully, inexorably, Joan is catapulted into discovery of her Divine Self, her psychic powers, and most importantly, her mission.

"Almost any reader will identify with Joan's tortuous resistance to 'weird' ideas like reincarnation, telepathy, waking dreams, intuitive life, and miraculous manifestation. This is a great book to hand someone newly-awakened. It is reassuring to the soul unfolding to the 'Immortal Tower' within themselves. It also has an outstanding surprise in every chapter.

"'The Immortal Tower' is a psychological novel, probing the mysterious nature of the self-created world like no other. As Herman Hesse said, 'One must start with the impossible in order to reach the possible.' Ms. Rouncville, a master of dialog, makes the dream world more real than waking reality and guides the reader to an understanding of simple truth. This is a novel for any generation of seekers, a worthy introduction to the path."

Excerpt, CHAPTER 1, (c) 2000 Dawn Rouncville

"There are no coincidences in life, Joan Renko. There are no chance encounters and there is no such thing as fate. Human beings manifest their own fate just as they manifest everything in life, be it physical or mental." The word-pulses paused. "There is more to life than life."

"What?" Joan shook her head, though in reality she merely mumbled and twisted in her bed sheets.

Violet waves pulsed behind her lids. She had no idea why they were there, though she grasped that they seemed to mean something. She followed them with her mind's eye. She started at bottom left where they entered her vision and followed to top right, but as soon as she focused on them, the waves grew erratic, entering and leaving her vision in no discernable pattern.

Gradually, Joan realized she was not dreaming as she had at first thought, but rather was in that early morning dream state that preceded her six-o'clock alarm. She became aware of a nagging feeling of dissatisfaction. An important thought had escaped her and somehow she knew it was vital she remember. To open her eyes would admit defeat. She kept her eyes squeezed shut to keep the morning at bay and again her inner vision was flooded with violet. A purple wave reared up, stood a moment, then melted at the edge of her vision.

Another wave reared up. It split and two foaming crests curled in upon themselves, the smooth arc of water echoing the graceful curve of a dolphin. Yes, definitely they were dolphins. They danced on their tails as though inviting her to play. Joan smiled and the dolphin snouts parted, laughing in return. High-pitched squeals tickled deep within her brain. Their fun was infectious and a feeling of warmth spread through her, the same feeling she had when she watched her friend's kittens tumble over each other in play.

"Hello there," she said, unable to stop herself, though she knew it was ludicrous that she should be speaking to purple dolphins at six in the morning. They sprang high out of the water and cartwheeled snout over tail. They cavorted and splashed and Joan laughed at their antics.

When the shrill buzz of her alarm clock intruded, Joan was jolted from her violet playground and her mind abruptly went black. Regret swept over her. What a dream! Or daydream, rather, as technically she hadn't been asleep. She hadn't dreamt like that since childhood. She lay there a moment longer, trying to recapture the euphoria she'd felt watching the dolphins play.

It was no use. Already her mind was racing ahead to the pile of work waiting on her desk, to the drive she had to make before reaching that pile of work, and even to the kitchen where she'd have to decide which cereal to eat before making that drive. Grumpy that she couldn't finish her dream, she climbed out of bed.

Tonight, she caught herself thinking, she'd replay it and see if she couldn't pick up where she'd left off. She hadn't tried to manipulate her dreams in years. As a child, her dreams had been confusing and frightening and she had learned to redo the endings to suit herself. Her strange dreams, however, had left her as gradually as she herself had left childhood and adolescence. Now that she was thirty, she rarely dreamed.

Joan's distraction with her dream followed her throughout the day. She found herself typesetting ads and editing copy with only half a mind as vague thoughts crept into her awareness.

"It was like the purple world was real and the one I woke up in wasn't," she said to Linda. "It was the strangest feeling." Her co-worker gazed at her over her coffee mug. The coffee room had emptied, giving Joan the privacy she needed to tell Linda her story. Somehow it hadn't seemed the sort of thing a person blurted out in front of others.

"Dolphins bring good luck," said Linda. "Seeing them in person would have been better, of course."

Joan arched a brow in question.

"It would have meant you were somewhere warm, not here trying to survive in the middle of a flippin' iceberg."

Joan smiled at her friend. "You ever have a dream so real you woke up confused?"

"Yeah, once." She ground out her cigarette. "I dreamt I'd caught Bill flirting with a waitress. As soon as I saw him, he whispered something to her and left the restaurant. Then she left, too, and they met out behind the kitchen. I was furious. When I woke up I felt like decking him. The poor guy walked on tiptoe all day. Even though I knew it was a dream, I couldn't seem to let it go. Stupid, huh?"

"Irrational," Joan agreed. "That's what's so interesting. No matter how irrational, it's still so real. It's as though logic is suspended in the dream world." She brightened. "Maybe that's why we're so susceptible to it. Think about it. We're surrounded by prosaic thoughts and actions every waking moment of our lives. Our dreams allow us to safely let go of our schedules for awhile. We don't have to be linear or practical. We can be kids again - no planning ahead, no grownups saying you can't do this, you can't do that. You're allowed to be irrational. You're allowed to dream about purple dolphins. It's fun!"

Linda grunted and heaved herself out of her chair. "I gotta get back to that car ad. I wish all those stupid car pics would park themselves in their boxes properly so the copy could just flow around 'em. Irrational, huh? I know I'd be dreaming if that happened.

That night, Joan dreamt again. She was sitting on a pink-hued beach hugging her knees to her chest. The sand was warm beneath her and her toes curled into the fine, powdery granules. Far out to sea she could discern a pod of dolphins cavorting in the waves. They were playing beside a sailboat that had anchored to watch them. One of the pod broke free and raced for the beach where Joan sat. When it was near enough, it raised its head from the water and looked directly at her.

"Are you coming?" it asked.

Joan got to her feet, walked to the edge of the surf till she was ankle-deep in water, then turned to walk the shoreline. The dolphin followed, twenty feet out beyond the breakers.

"I can't swim," she found herself telling the dolphin in her mind.

"I will pull you."

"Out there in the ocean? Are you crazy?"

"I will show you something. Something nice." The dolphin edged closer. "No fear for you. Nice place."

The word-pulses bathed her mind with light, a soothing violet light that gave Joan the distinct impression that there really was nothing to fear, that no matter how far or how long the ride, she would be safe as the dolphin pulled her out to sea.

She stood there a moment more, indecisive, then walked out to meet the dolphin. "Do I hold your fin?"

"Only think you hold and you hold."

Confused, Joan looked down at the silvery-grey body glistening beneath the surface. Tentatively, she reached out to grasp the dorsal fin.

"With mind, Joan," the dolphin said gently. "Hold in mind."

"Not with my hand?"

"Not necessary."