by Lindsay McKenna, paranormal (2001, 1994 reissue)
Silhouette Dreamscapes, $4.50, ISBN 0-373-51129-9
Warning: this is not a romance novel. I repeat, this is not a romance novel. It seems like a romance novel, it has a nice X-Files type of cover, but it is not a romance. It is actually a metaphysics mini-textbook. If you are facing a Metaphysics 101 test soon and can't read any more thick textbooks without puking brain slime through your nostrils, you would love Hangar 13. It's to Metaphysics what all those illustrated abridged comic Shakespeare books are to Literature 101.
Chapter 1 has a beautifully written definition of "metaphysical" and why "metaphysical" and "psychic" are not to be confused for each other. Chapter 2 lovingly details the intricacies of shaman mind-journey, the First Law of Metaphysics, the fourth dimension, and left versus right brain functions. Chapter 3 tells you how to trigger your inner metaphysical switch so that you can do lots of fun things like sensing emotions and reading minds. And in Chapter 4... oh, you get the idea.
The story is about this Hangar 13 of the Luke Air Force Base somewhere in Phoenix, Arizona, being haunted by wrench-throwing ghosts. Major Mac Stanford knows that the Big Bosses are coming down for an inspection, and if he doesn't do something fast, it's bye bye to early retirement. So an underling suggests that he give Ellie O'Gentry, shaman, a visit.
There you go. Both characters who, upon first meet, start discussing the true meanings and calisthenics of metaphysics in textbook-like manner. And it goes downhill from there as Ellie lovingly demonstrates, explains, and details everything you want (or never want) to know and more about metaphysics. Mac listens and nods approvingly.
It's so boring because that's all they do - talk metaphysics. Oh, there's some obligatory "My ex sucks" blues from the both of them, but who cares? They don't. They want to talk metaphysics. It's the new foreplay for sensitive new age people. Get your crystal today and trigger your inner chakra. But honey, there's no tantric sex in Hangar 13, a big pity as it may keep me awake.
And when I find myself screaming at Mac, "No, no, please don't ask her what that means... PLEASE NO, NO, NONONONONONONO AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" and dropping the book to flee in terror when Ellie opens her mouth to launch another lecture, I think both this book and me have lost it altogether.
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