I love to invite authors to share their thoughts and am so happy to have Marielle S Smith here today to share five of her favorite gratitude quotes.
Five of my favourite
gratitude quotes
With two gratitude journals out there, I’ve gathered
a fair collection of gratitude quotes. In today’s post, I’ll be sharing some of my favourite quotes from both the first and
second volume of the 365 Days of Gratitude Journal.
Life
is a series of thousands of tiny miracles. Notice them.
—Roald Dahl
I just
love this quote and it’s so in line with the one by Albert Einstein I included
in the introduction to the journal: ‘There are only two ways
to live your life. One is as though nothing
is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a
miracle.’
Each time I
hear or read any of these two quotes, my perspective instantly shifts to
something much lighter and joyful and I can’t help but smile.
The more grateful I am, the more beauty I see.
—Mary Davis
There’s a reason I put this quote on the cover of the second volume—it
hits home every time. I can’t even put my finger on why, it just does. And I
know from experience just how truthful this statement is, which is why I get a
little bit frustrated with myself each time there’s a lull in my gratitude
practice.
It’s a good thing it’s so easy to get back into it!
We should certainly count our blessings, but we
should also make our blessings count.
—Neal A. Maxwell
Back in my
student days, I had a conversation with my supervisor about privilege. As a
relatively privileged woman—I’m white, cisgender, able-bodied, I can pass as
straight, I was getting a higher education—I struggled with those privileges
because it all felt a little unfair to me.
I’ll never
forget how she responded. She said: ‘There’s no point in feeling bad or guilty
about where you came from, because that’s beyond your control. But what you can
do is use whatever privilege you happen to have to help dismantle the system
that created these privileges in the first place.’
This quote
reminds me of that conversation and that I should really use all of my
blessings, including my privileges, for the greater good.
When you
focus on the good, the good gets better.
—Abraham Hicks
Whether this is
actually true, I couldn’t tell you, but it’s definitely something I want to
believe. At the very least, this quote reminds me to focus on the good things
that are happening in my life instead of all the things I’m not as thrilled
about, and that always makes me feel better instantly.
We’re all so busy chasing the extraordinary that we forget to stop and
be grateful for the ordinary.
—Brené Brown
This quote
is, in a nutshell, why I decided to create a gratitude journal in the first
place. We tend to celebrate and express gratitude over the big milestones and
large blessings in our lives, but the key to living a grateful life is to learn
to notice and be thankful for all those teeny tiny things we so easily take for
granted.
What are you grateful for today? Can you name
one thin
Thanks so much for being here today, Michelle. I hope everyone enjoyed the post.
365 Days of Gratitude Journal by Mariëlle S. Smith
GENRE: Non-fiction; self-help
BLURB
***
Now available in black-and-white AND full colour! ***
‘The more grateful I am, the more beauty I see.’ Mary Davis
Gratitude is not just about ATTITUDE.
Gratitude is about PRACTICE.
But how do you create a gratitude practice that sticks?
After the success of her first 365 Days of Gratitude Journal, writing coach
Mariëlle S. Smith brings you Volume 2. Same journal but with an entirely
different look!
After years of barely surviving her own emotional minefield, Mariëlle
discovered the transformative power of practising gratitude. But, like no one
else, she knows that cultivating an attitude of gratitude is easier said than
done.
365 Days of Gratitude, Vol. 2 is an undated, guided journal. Complete with
inspiring quotes, daily prompts, and recurring check-ins, it was designed to
help you create a sustainable gratitude practice too.
Commit to the life-changing power of gratitude today and order your copy now!
AUTHOR Bio and Links
Mariëlle
S. Smith is a writer, writing coach, and editor. She lives in Cyprus, where she
organises private writer’s retreats, is inspired 24/7, and feeds more stray
cats than she can count.
I love to give authors a podium and the freedom to share whatever they like. I found Vince’s Guest Post to be interesting and it got me thinking….
Guest Blog Post
Which two authors would I have dinner with?
Ernest Hemingway and Taylor Caldwell have been
known for their inspiring and exceptional writing. So, what would it be like to
have dinner with them?
Let the fantasy begin …
As we waited for our drinks, I leaned over to
Ernest. “Put that cigar away,” I whispered, to avoid embarrassment.
“It’s Papa,” he replied in his usual charismatic
tone. “I told you many times, call me Papa. And this is no ordinary cigar. It’s
a Cuban puro.”
“I know what it is,” I said as my eyes followed
the waft of smoke charging towards me like one of the bulls from his book, The
Sun Also Rises. I moved my head to the side and added, “This is not El
Floridity and it’s not 1952. It’s 2022 in Sotto Sotto, Toronto. You remember
Toronto, don’t you?”
“Of course,
I do,” Ernest said as he extinguished his cigar. “The Toronto Star. I started there
as a freelancer and eventually worked as a foreign correspondent in Europe
writing stories about post-WWI conditions.”
I looked over to Taylor. She wasn’t a bit annoyed.
The curl of her lip suggested she rather enjoyed the exchange and would have
also enjoyed a Cuban cigar.
Our server came with our drinks. “Two daquiris,” he
said. Ernest smiled and tapped his finger on a space on the
table in front of him. “Martini for you, madam. And Negroni for you, sir.” We
toasted to friendship and writing and as the food and drinks came in plenty, so
did the conversation.
“Congratulations,” Taylor said, raising her glass
to me. “I thoroughly enjoyed reading The Final Crossing. Well done.”
“As did I,” Ernest said. I thanked them, smiled,
and took a sip of my Negroni.
Then Taylor turned to Ernest. “Papa, you should
have added more religious themes in your books.”
“You mean like your stories?”
“You know very well I have written on a broad range
of subjects, not just stories related to real historical events or persons. I
do not need to defend my work.”
Ernest smiled and raised his glass in tribute of her
accomplishments. It was probably more in his appreciation of a woman who
exemplified his own persona – strong-minded, adventurous, and passionate about her
craft. The wise fisherman was no match for this marlin, at least not this time.
“And don’t forget,” I said. “While you published The
Old Man and The Sea in 1952, for which you later won the Nobel Prize,
Taylor had written The Devil’s Advocate, set in
a dystopia where North America came under Communist rule.”
Ernest leaned back in his chair and took another sip of
his drink. Then he began to talk about his time in Cuba and in Paris and in
Spain. Taylor raised her hand. Ernest
stopped and remained
quiet. She then leaned forward towards him and said, “Don’t let the past steal
your present.”
The place fell in deafening silence as if everyone
had heard our conversation. I broke the stillness with my own curiosity about
their work.
“Papa, did writing come easy for you?” He shifted
in his seat and cleared his throat as if ready to respond in an interview with
a seasoned journalist.
“Writing is something that you can never do as well
as it can be done,” he said. “It is a perpetual challenge, and it is more
difficult than anything else that I have ever done—so I do it. And it makes me
happy when I do it well.”
Then I turned to Taylor. “You have always been
outspoken which is reflected in your intricately plotted, suspenseful stories
depicting family tensions. Much of this stemmed from your childhood. Would you
agree?”
“To some extent,” she replied. “As you know, I
emigrated to the U.S. with my parents and younger brother in 1907. Shortly
after my father died and the family struggled. I think I tapped into those
experiences and wrote them in my stories.”
“I believe you started to write at the age of eight
and wrote your first novel when you were twelve.”
She smiled. Then, as if the memories surfaced, her
smile faded. “My ill health prevented me from doing many things, except writing
of course. I buried myself in writing and the world knew little about me. Many
presumed I or rather the author, was a man. That was my first editor’s doing,
giving me a pen name. When my identity was eventually made known there was even
some public fuss over it.”
“Did that experience change how you thought about
people?”
“The nature of human beings never changes.
Political fads come and go; theories rise and fall; the scientific truth of
today becomes the discarded error of tomorrow. Man’s ideas change, but not his
inherent nature. That remains.”
My eyes darted towards Ernest who sat with his hand
on his chin, and I could tell he learned something new about Taylor.
“OK, now please humour me,” I said. I reached into
my pocket and pulled out three pens, one for each of us. I then took out a
piece of paper, ripped it in three and distributed them. I had obviously planned
for this moment.
I continued. “If we were stranded on an island and brought
with us only one book, what would it be? Write it down, fold the paper and pass
it to me.”
They were pensive at first. But then, in unison,
they wrote down their answer and handed it to me. I also wrote mine. I unfolded
each one and placed them on the table for us to see which book we would have had
brought with us.
Taylor wrote, The Old Man and The Sea. Ernest
wrote, The Devil’s Advocate. I wrote, The Final Crossing.
We laughed and laughed. We ate and drank. We
savoured the evening until the place had emptied, except for three revelling
authors.
And the fantasy ended.
What a fun post. I know I have read The Old Man and The Sea, but the others….I’ll be checking. I loved the post and you made it so enjoyable, Vince. Thank you very much.
The Final Crossing: A Tale of Self-Discovery and Adventure by Vince Santoro
GENRE: Historical Fiction
BLURB
In this tale of self-discovery and adventure,
we are connected with a history we’ve come to know as the cradle of
civilization.
Nenshi, an Egyptian house servant, raised in
nobility, is well-schooled, a master huntsman and hungers to be free. His
master agrees to grant his freedom but while the petition is set to be heard,
Nenshi’s indiscretion gets in the way. He is caught in a secret love affair
with a woman above his social status.
As punishment, he is exiled to labour in the Nubian
gold mines. His life turns upside down as he is thrust into a world for which
he had been ill prepared. He escapes from the mines and vows to return to
Thebes, but his attempts push him farther and farther away on a journey that
redefines him – a journey mired with cruelty, bloodshed, and the discovery of a
new deity.
In the end Nenshi learns his freedom has been
granted and must decide whether to return to his homeland or start a new life.
“I greatly enjoyed this well written story by
Vince Santoro. He takes us across the Ancient World
through the protagonist, Nenshi, an exiled Egyptian
servant who struggles with class structure, both around and within himself.
Santoro weaves a story of ideas – a sense of belonging, monotheism, and the
human soul – told through Nenshi’s rite of passage through to his final
crossing. The setting is visually evocative of “spirit of place” as
the novelist and travel writer Lawrence Durrell called it. It’s a story worth
reading.” – Terry Stanfill
Award winning historical fiction author of The Gift
from Fortuny, Realms of Gold, The Blood Remembers and other works.
“Vince Santoro is a gifted storyteller. I
found The Final Crossing difficult to put down because it is
well written. As an historian and author of
non-fiction books, I am impressed with the amount of research that Santoro has
done to prepare this story of adventure and romance set in the ancient Middle
East. The customs, the beliefs and even the character names are all authentic
to that region and era. With so many plot twists and turns, Santoro will keep
you guessing about what might happen next to the protagonist until the very
end!” – John Charles Corrigan
Author of The Red Knight and “Love
Always”
EXCERPT
Twilight was fast approaching, and they returned to the trail.
From a distance they saw an abundance of trees and vegetation that sprung from
the hard soil. Moments later, they heard rushing water. A twisting river
murmured. It called out and invited them to consume its wealth. Nenshi and
Aziza went to explore it.
Aziza stopped and kneeled to examine small flowers in bloom.
On the river’s edge Nenshi bent over and splashed water on his face. He cupped
his hands and drank its cool refreshing offering. Rocks jutted out from the
shallow water. He heard footsteps and threw a glance behind him. Aziza, ran
towards him, as free as the wind blew, eager to jump into the river. Nenshi
screamed from the top of his lungs to warn her.
“Aziza … Aziza … be careful, the water is shallow! There
are rocks!”
Her excitement muffled his warning. Nenshi then stood,
flapped his arms to get her attention. She pushed her legs hard against the
water to run faster until it was just deep enough to jump in.
“Aziza …. Aziza … stop …” Nenshi cried. Aziza took another
step but this time slipped and almost fell. She tried to regain balance and
continued moving forward. Nenshi gasped hoping she realized the danger and
would stop. But she didn’t and it was too late. She slipped again, fell and hit
a rock. Nenshi immediately ran to her, stepping and slipping on rocks that
almost caused him to lose balance. Babak who had heard Nenshi’s cries dashed to
the river. Nenshi crouched over the wet and motionless body.
“Help me get her out,” Nenshi cried out as he lifted her,
propped her head and shoulders in his arms. Blood, washed by the water, dripped
from her head.
AUTHOR Bio and Links
Vince is an Italian-born Canadian who grew up in Toronto,
Canada, and now lives in Pickering, a suburb of Toronto.
In his youth, education and sports became a priority. A private
boys’ school, St. Michael’s College in Toronto, provided the opportunity for
both. He graduated from York University, Toronto, with a degree in history and
a minor in behavioural science.
Vince was always up for new challenges. After completing his
studies, he set his eyes on Europe and played professional basketball in Italy.
When he returned home, he shifted gears and worked in the aerospace industry in
several capacities. The most rewarding was managing internal communications for
a large aircraft manufacturer. It was during this time he decided to hone his
writing skills by studying journalism at Ryerson University, Toronto, and he
had several articles published.
His career in communications along with studies in history and
journalism prepared him to take on his next challenge: to write a book. His
debut novel, The Final Crossing, has been a labour of love, one he worked on
for many years. It reflects life experiences, woven into a story that inspires
and entertains, and perhaps even show the world in a different way.
This is a deleted scene from early in
the novel. I hope readers enjoy!
The journalist
followed Natasha’s bodyguard across the empty restaurant. As he approached, she
smiled up at him from her cushion at the low, Asian-style table.
“Miss Bernard.” He
leaned down to shake her hand. At least he didn’t try to kiss it; Americans could
hardly ever carry off such an affectation.
“Andrew, right?”
“You can call me
Andy.” As he dropped onto a cushion opposite her, Natasha studied him. Dark,
shoulder-length hair. Blazer and jeans. Intense dark eyes. Pretty hands, with
long, tapered fingers.
The server came
with their appetizers. They spent a few minutes sipping tea and nibbling spring
rolls.
Finally, Andy
leaned forward. “So, Ms. Bernard, what made you decide to reinvent yourself?”
“I think it’s time
to move past the slinking villainess thing. I have much more range than some of
my recent roles have showcased.” And whose fault was that? Listening to her
agent’s bad advice? Or was she just getting lazy?
“It has nothing to
do with a certain looming milestone?”
She chuckled. “You
mean my birthday?” In just over two weeks, she’d be thirty. “I suppose that’s
part of it. At some point, I outgrew the wide-eyed ingénue, and I could never
be the girl-next-door. So I ended up falling into the classic femme fatale
role.”
“For good reason,
if you don’t mind me saying so.” His admiring glance took in her perfectly
made-up face, her long, auburn hair, and the silk blouse that displayed her
figure to good advantage.
“You know that
tired old saying?” she said. “Don’t judge a book by its cover? I’ve always
found it ironic how untrue it is. We’re all judged by just how good our
packaging is.”
“So, you want to
rebrand?”
“Exactly.”
Andy glanced at
his notebook. “It seems you’ve been staying busy.”
“Indeed.”
“Your recent
bruising pace seems to have come about at just about the time of your break-up
from Sloan … and Richard Mac.”
Natasha took a sip
of tepid tea and wished a black hole would swallow Andy. “I never dated the
Bastard—I mean Richard.” She waited for Andy to correct himself. I mean,
your affair with Richard Mac, which resulted in the breakup of your marriage to
Sloan. As if Richard the Bastard ever would have touched her. He’d always
loathed her.
“Excuse me,” Andy
said smoothly. “Maybe it’d be safer to say you’ve had a, um, complex
association with the members of Mephisto.”
Not
bloody fair. A two-year-old scandal, and they still hounded her about it. She
swallowed against the shriek rising in her throat. No one had believed her when
she’d tried to set the story straight. Rather hard to deny it when Sloan wrote
a song that pinned the scarlet “A” squarely on her chest. And Richard said
nothing. Not a word to set the story straight. As if he didn’t care if the
entire world thought him the sort of man who’d betray his best friend. Ha. Not
that it mattered; if anything, the scandal had only enhanced his bad boy image.
Focus.
Andy was still waiting for a response. “As thrilled as I am to speak about my
personal life, I’m afraid any response I might make would be unprintable.” She
softened her words with a smile. “In any case, it’s old news, hmm?” In other
words, change the bloody subject.
“Well,
it might be, only …” Andy’s dark brows lifted. “I’ve heard rumors that a
tell-all exposé of the band is in the works. Word has it there’s an entire
chapter about the rock-and-roll love triangle.”
Natasha
gulped her tea. All that time and effort spent reinventing herself, only to
have it all come unraveled thanks to some trashy book.
Not.
Fucking. Happening.
As she changed the
subject, she promised herself that tell-all would never see the light of day.
Even if she had to confront Satan—AKA Richard Mac—himself.
Unchain My Heart Nadia Blair (Mephisto, #2) Publication date: May 10th 2022 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
What’s a bad girl to do when the world won’t let her be good …
With her thirtieth birthday looming, actress Natasha Bernard wants to reinvent herself as something other than Hollywood’s favorite villainess. When she hears rumors that a tell-all exposé reveals details of her love life with her rockstar ex, she decides to put a stop to it. Even if that means confronting his bandmate, Richard Mac—the man who let the world brand her with a scarlet ‘A.’
She’s his nemesis … his secret obsession … and the only woman who can incinerate his life …
Guitarist Richard Mac is a control freak, whether he’s working on a new album or using his custom leather toys in the bedroom. When “Hurricane” Natasha storms back into his life, he risks everything to claim her. But he can’t risk losing control and letting her guess his darkest secret … that she’s the one woman he’s always wanted and could never have …
Nadia Blair writes steamy contemporary romance featuring outrageous bad boys and gutsy girls who give as good as they get. She has a thing for snappy dialog, humorous situations, and swoon-worthy happily-ever-afters.
When she’s not having conversations with fictional people, she enjoys summer thunderstorms, top-shelf whiskey, and rockin’ out to a classic guitar solo.
Hollywood Underworld Lindy S. Hudis (A Hollywood Series) Publication date: August 8th 2021 Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller
Nick Savage was supposed to be the next sexy Hollywood heartthrob, until he turned up dead!
His personal manager, Dani Foxx, is a seductive former actress with spunk, guts and a take-no-prisoners attitude. She lives in the Woodland Hills section of the San Fernando Valley with her teenage daughter. They must survive and protect each other in the world’s most glamorous and sin-filled city. Then an unidentified body discovered under the Santa Monica pier is found to belong to the up and coming young actor.
Dani’s partner, the dashing and charismatic A.J. Tarentella, is the son of a mob boss, raised in a ruthless crime family. He now is the proud owner of the Tarantella Agency, a Private Investigation Company located in the heart of Beverly Hills. He used his father’s work ethic, connections and family ties to build his powerful business empire, and now he is always there to help those in need.
When another gorgeous nubile actress on the brink of getting her breakout role mysteriously vanishes as the body of a beautiful young girl is discovered in Runyon Canyon park in the Hollywood Hills, Dani realizes this is no coincidence. Who is targeting young Hollywood stars? And more importantly, how can Dani stop them before the next body surfaces?
Together, A..J. and Dani find themselves tangled in a web of organized crime, Hollywood secrets, and a vengeful faded movie star with a lethal vendetta.
Lindy S. Hudis is an award winning filmmaker, author and actress. Lindy is a graduate of New York University, where she studied drama at Tisch School of the Arts. She also performed in a number of Off-Off Broadway theater productions while living in New York City.
She is the author of several titles, including her romance suspense novel, Weekends, her “Hollywood” story City of Toys, and her crime novel, Crashers. Her latest release, “Hollywood Underworld – A Hollywood Series” is the first installment of a crime, mystery series.
In addition, she has written several erotic short stories, including “The S&M Club”, “The Backstage Pass”, “Guitar God”, “The Guitarist”, and “The Mile High Club”.
Her short film “The Lesson”, which she wrote, produced and directed, has won numerous awards, including ‘Best Short Film’ at the Paris International Film Festival, The Beverly Hills Arthouse Film Festival and the San Fransisco International Film Festival.
She is also an actress, having appeared in the indie film Expressionism, the television daytime drama “Sunset Beach”, also “Married with Children” , “Beverly Hills 90210” and the feature film “Indecent Proposal” . She and her husband, Hollywood stuntman Stephen Hudis, have formed their own production company called Impact Motion Pictures, and have several projects and screenplays in development. She lives in California with her husband and two children.
I must confess, I am a cover…well, you know. So I am excited to have Martha Dunlop her to talk about her covers.
Designing my book covers was a treat I was
waiting for. I’d been working on my books for years, focusing on craft, writing,
getting feedback and rewriting over and over. Finally, the moment to publish The
Starfolk Arcana had come, and I got to live out the cover dream.
I knew exactly who I wanted to hire to design
my covers. There were two books I had bought in paperback, even though I’d
already read them on my Kindle. I bought them because I loved the covers so
much and that had always stuck in my mind. They had the same designer, Ravven.
My books are a love story, so I wanted people
on the front. It’s also set in historic city, St Albans, in a part of town that
has lots of Tudor buildings. I went on a ghost walk when I was planning the
novel, and the stories I heard whilst walking around the Tudor buildings were a
wonderful source of inspiration to me. And more than one ghost made it into the
final version of The Starfolk Arcana. I
wanted to capture the history and the spookiness in the cover and I think
Ravven did a wonderful job of that with the old, crumbling Tudor building, and
the ravens flying in front of the full moon.
Tarot is another important theme in the
book. The main characters are all
represented as archetypes in a specially illustrated deck. Jonan explains early
on in the book that this is no mystery.
They knew the artist and she based some of the cards on her friends. But
as more characters join the story, and their faces are also in the deck, things
become less clear. I love the way Ravven
threw tarot cards into the mix on the book cover, having them flung up into the
air to drift on the breeze around the characters.
Choosing the people was the biggest job, and
Jonan, the guy, was the toughest one to find. He had to be blond, (most of the
models had dark hair), with long hair and an angular face. In the end I spent a
long time looking before I found the guy on the cover. He was very smiley in
most of the pictures, but looking serious, and with the addition of longer
hair, he was the perfect Jonan. There
weren’t many pictures that worked, but there is a fabulous image waiting for
book three of the trilogy.
For book two I wanted a new colour scheme and
a different mood, whilst maintaining the same feel. This cover is set in the countryside in front
of an old farm building and it picks up on some scenes from the beginning of Starfolk
Falling. Beth is a lot more confident in
this cover.
In The Starfolk Arcana, Beth falls prey to my
antagonist, Amelia’s fear mongering and that is reflected in her worried
expression on the book cover. By Starfolk Falling she is far more in control,
and I can’t wait to see the cover with book 3’s Beth. I have the perfect image
for her.
I wanted these covers to feel immersive and magical, to pull the reader into the story before they even begin, and I really love the way Ravven achieved that for me. She’s a wonderful designer.
I must say, you accomplished your goal. I love the covers. Thanks so much for visiting.
Destiny calls. Soulmates draw closer. One
woman stands in the way.
Beth trusts her psychic senses. So when her
birthday visit to a daytime TV talk show takes a weird turn, she knows
something is wrong. Amelia, the celebrity on stage, is oddly fixated on Beth
and the man with the microphone is hauntingly familiar. Things become even
stranger when she buys a tarot deck, and they are all pictured in the cards.
Jonan has waited an eternity to be with the woman
who haunts his dreams. When he finally sees her at the TV studio, he hopes life
with his soulmate is within reach. But as Amelia refuses to let go of their
past together, his hopes fade.
Amelia stands between Beth and Jonan. Spinning
tales of supernatural threats to her adoring fan base, she builds a personality
cult through fear of the paranormal. As her power grows, she does her best to
scare Beth away from Jonan and plans to reclaim him for herself.
United by a destiny that spans lifetimes, Beth and
Jonan are determined to stop Amelia’s fear-mongering. But Amelia has more than
one card to play. Even though they are fated to be together, Amelia’s
destructive nature may once again tear them apart.
EXCERPT
Beth sighed and slouched down in her front row seat at the
TV studio. If she’d known she was going to be subjected to this drivel, she
wouldn’t have come. She’d been here for two hours already, and not one of the
stories had been genuine. Her so-called friend and flatmate had a lot to answer
for. She was pleased Laura loved her new job, and it had been obvious her
friend’s enthusiasm about the chat show was overblown, but this was worse than
she’d expected.
She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and
turned. Laura was standing off to the side of the set, waving her clipboard at
Beth. She shifted on her mile-high spikes. Her feet must have been so uncomfortable,
but Laura had been determined to make an impression today. Her eyes were bright
as she scanned the set, drinking in her world. This job was her triumph. Beth
couldn’t fault her enthusiasm, she just wished Laura had left her out of
today’s charade.
Seated on the dais, Katherine Haversham waited for a moment,
eyebrows raised, bright red lips pursed.
‘Thank you for staying with us over the break. I know this
is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Model and It girl Amelia Faustus is
here, live, on Deep and Dark to break her silence over the horrific out-of-body
attack that took her from the media spotlight. After weeks of fear and
soul-searching, she has decided to step back into the public eye. Amelia,
welcome. Tell us what happened.’ Katherine leaned forward. ‘Start from the
beginning.’
AUTHOR Bio and Links
Martha is a dreamer and lover of stories who likes nothing better
than spending her days getting to know the characters in her head.
She is a tarot card reader and reiki master, and loves to chat
reading, writing and all things mystical on social media, as well as posting
pictures of her fellow pack-member, Bertie the Cavalier.
A fiddle player, Martha fell in love with traditional music,
particularly Irish, and is also teaching herself to play the Irish Bouzouki.
She played her way through her English degree at York and remembers that time
as much for the music as the books.
Martha is the author of three books: The Starfolk Arcana, Starfolk
Falling, and standalone Wild Shadow. She
is currently working on Book 3 of The Starfolk Trilogy, Starfolk Rising.
If you have been coming to fundinmental for a while, you probably know how much a cover can influence me. That is why I invited Barbara Casey here to tell us her thoughts. Take it away Barbara.
THE ARTFUL EXPRESSION OF BOOK COVERS
One of the things I am most pleased about in
writing The F.I.G. Mysteries is the fact that my publisher is also a
professional and extremely talented artist. From the beginning when she first
published Book 1 – The Cadence of Gypsies
– she sensed the emotional tenderness underlying the story. The cover she
designed – an obscure symbol found in the Voynich Manuscript – expressed that
emotional tenderness perfectly. At that time, I wrote The Cadence of Gypsies as a stand-alone novel. After it was published,
however, my publisher convinced me to expand it into a series. The original
cover metamorphosed into something different that was perfect because it now
tied in with the other covers on The Wish
Rider, The Clock Flower, The Nightjar’s Promise, and now, The Seraphim’s Song.
Each cover symbolizes the main underlying
theme of the book in a beautiful and sensitive expression. Books 1 through 4
have focused on the personal emotional journeys of Carolina and the females of intellectual
genius as they search for answers to explain why they were placed in an
orphanage and who their biological parents were. With those answers for the
most part found, The Seraphim’s Song elevates
Carolina and the F.I.G.s to another level of understanding. There are new
questions; more answers are needed. This involves an ancient artifact that, in
fact, is a key to all knowledge in the universe that has been hidden in a cave
in China for as long as the planet Earth has existed. The cover shows a “key”
surrounded by colors of the universe. It is beautiful, and it is perfect.
It is really nice to visit with you again. Thank you for inviting me and for your continued interest in my books. All best to you and your bloggers. ~Barbara
I am so happy to have you here and look forward to ‘seeing’ you again soon, Barbara.
The Seraphim’s Song by Barbara Casey
GENRE: Fiction/Mystery
BLURB
Book
5 – The F.I.G. Mysteries
Many changes have taken
place at Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women while Carolina and
Larry were on their honeymoon in Frascati, Italy, on the Granchelli farm. The
newlyweds have been given a larger bungalow; Ms. Alcott, niece of the founder
of Wood Rose, and Mrs. Ball, assistant to the headmaster, have moved into a
bungalow together; and Jimmy Bob, caretaker and night watchman at Wood Rose has
moved from his family home down the road a bit into a small bungalow on the
orphanage property with his hound dog Tick, as well as his new cat and her
litter of kittens. Most important, thanks to the persuasive powers of Ms.
Alcott and Mrs. Ball, the F.I.G.s have been given a forever home at Wood Rose.
Summer is coming to an
end and the F.I.G.s will soon return to the universities to complete their
special projects. They are starting to feel anxious, and the coping mechanisms
they have used their entire lives are starting to work overtime. Dara’s
thoughts turn to an unknown language, possibly from another world; Mackenzie
focuses on the relationship of math to music; and Jennifer keeps hearing the
note of B flat minor and is drawing dark swirls on her canvas board.
Deadly forces and
natural disasters are unleashed into the world when Milosh, the evil young man
who placed a curse on Carolina when she searched for her mother, steals an
ancient artifact—a “key”—from an archaeological site near Puli, China on the
Yellow Sea where he is working. This artifact, when paired with a certain
note—B flat minor known as the Seraphim’s song—opens a portal that enables man
to communicate with the gods.
When the key gets lost
in a storm, Carolina comes into possession of it through Jimmy Bob’s dog, Tick,
and when she does, she hears Lyuba, her gypsy mother, tell her that time is
running out. The F.I.G.s and Carolina must go to the forbidden cave on the
Yellow Sea, the place where the early gypsies are believed to have settled
before travelling into Europe. For it is there where the key must be returned
before all is destroyed.
EXCERPT
As she usually did in the early, pre-dawn hours, Lyuba was
digging roots, in the dark of the crescent moon, and every so often replanting
a good piece of a root to grow next year.
The day before she had picked herbs, during that time when the essential
oils are at their strongest, before they could get evaporated by the midday
sun. Where she searched was her favorite
place, the place where the energies were strongest. Surprisingly, it was the old church graveyard
built on a slight mound just outside of the rural Italian village of Frascati,
which is why the other gypsy women stayed away.
Unlike Lyuba, they feared being so near the dead. They believed that
being near death would hasten their own, therefore they refused to go there.
Lyuba, however, saw death as the natural and necessary progression of life, in
another form, in a different dimension. She found comfort and solace in its
nearness.
A creek ran nearby, and a tall, unkempt yew tree grew near
the entrance to the graveyard, poisonous, but giving off positive
energies. It was a place Lyuba knew
well, having discovered it from earlier times when the travelers came this way.
It was there where she found peace.
She would prepare her potions from the roots, bark, and hard
seeds she gathered and make decoctions by soaking them overnight and boiling
them the next day. Some of the
decoctions she would add honey or sugar to; others she would thicken into syrup
or add lard to make ointments and salves.
The freshest herbs she saved for her oils.
Once her potions were ready, she would take them into the
village to sell. Coughs or colds,
rheumatism, cuts and bruises, burns—it didn’t matter. She knew what remedy was necessary to relieve
pain, create lustrous hair, revive the impotent, whiten teeth, cure
constipation, or simply heal the broken spirit.
Unlike others who only pretended, she had the gift.
As she scraped pieces of root and bark, and gently picked
the seeds from the plants she revered, she suddenly paused, aware of something
different in the air around her—an unseen potent force. She stood up and,
closing her eyes, listened quietly as she sniffed the air. There was an
unfamiliar strangeness surrounding her. She felt the slight tremor of the earth
and somewhere very far away, she heard the low-pitched hum.
It was a sound she knew well for it had been given to every
civilization from the beginning of time. Used in all of the major
religions—Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Islam, Zoroastrianism and
Christianity—it was the sacred universal sound.
A single sustained note, a mantra, it was the melody of the angel that
acted as the means of communication between the gods in the heavens and the
humans on earth. It was the seraphim’s song.
But something was wrong; the single note was slightly
off-key. The pitch wasn’t quite right. Then, because she was a choovihni and
had the knowledge of the universe coursing through her veins, a cosmic
consciousness that had been passed down to her from her mother, her
grandmother, and her great grandmothers through all time, she sensed darkness
and evil.
AUTHOR Bio and Links
Originally from
Carrollton, Illinois, author/agent/publisher Barbara Casey attended the
University of North Carolina, N.C. State University, and N.C. Wesleyan College
where she received a BA degree, summa cum laude, with a double major in English
and history. In 1978 she left her
position as Director of Public Relations and Vice President of Development at
North Carolina Wesleyan College to write full time and develop her own
manuscript evaluation and editorial service.
In 1995 she established the Barbara Casey Agency and since that time has
represented authors from the United States, Great Britain, Canada, and Japan.
In 2014, she became a partner with Strategic Media Books, an independent
nonfiction publisher of true crime, where she oversees acquisitions, day-to-day
operations, and book production.
Barbara has
written over a dozen award-winning books of fiction and nonfiction for both young
adults and adults. The awards include the National Association of University
Women Literary Award, the Sir Walter Raleigh Literary Award, the Independent
Publisher Book Award, the Dana Award for Outstanding Novel, the IP Best Book
for Regional Fiction, among others. Several of her books have been optioned for
major films and television.
Her
award-winning articles, short stories, and poetry for adults have appeared in
both national and international publications including the North Carolina
Christian Advocate Magazine, The New East Magazine, the Raleigh (N.C.) News and
Observer, the Rocky Mount (N.C.) Sunday Telegram, Dog Fancy, ByLine, The
Christian Record, Skirt! Magazine, and True Story. A thirty-minute television special which
Barbara wrote and coordinated was broadcast on WRAL, Channel 5, in Raleigh,
North Carolina. She also received
special recognition for her editorial work on the English translations of
Albanian children’s stories. Her award-winning science fiction short stories
for adults are featured in The Cosmic Unicorn and CrossTime science fiction
anthologies. Barbara’s essays and other
works appear in The Chrysalis Reader, the international literary journal of the
Swedenborg Foundation, 221 One-Minute Monologues from Literature (Smith and
Kraus Publishers), and A Cup of Comfort (Adams Media Corporation).
Barbara is a
former director of BookFest of the Palm Beaches, Florida, where she served as
guest author and panelist. She has
served as judge for the Pathfinder Literary Awards in Palm Beach and Martin
Counties, Florida, and was the Florida Regional Advisor for the Society of
Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators from 1991 through 2003. In 2018 Barbara received the prestigious
Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award and Top Professional Award for
her extensive experience and notable accomplishments in the field of publishing
and other areas. She makes her home on the top of a mountain in northwest
Georgia with three cats who adopted her, Homer – a Southern coon cat, Reese – a
black cat, and Earl Gray – a gray cat and Reese’s best friend.
I want to welcome Toby Negus to fundinmental. I left the topic open to whatever Toby would like to share. I hope you enjoy it. Take it away Toby….
Love
While I was sitting within a grove of
trees, my gaze came to rest upon a single tree. I tried to see this tree as it
was, to feel its life without my conditions of how I thought it should be. So, I waited for another way to understand
this tree, resisting the distractions in me that so wanted to tell the tree
what it was. I waited for the tree to tell me who it was. Ever so
slowly, an awareness of the tree grew in me of its life, its interconnectivity
to the other trees, the air, and the earth. This tree felt singular in its
purpose; not a different type of tree or a daffodil, but the tree that it was.
It felt like it had no doubt of what
it was or why it was. The power of the tree’s self-identity was total.
It was in love with being the tree that it was.
This irrevocable love that is evident in
nature, feels so different from the human experience of love. Ours seems a
kaleidoscopic chaotic love affair. Unfixed to the singular love that a tree
has. It is a helter-skelter ride of highs and lows, where our everchanging will
causes our love to come and go all too easily.
The tree does not have to make it, it is in
it! We have to summon it; create its opportunities and beckon it into our
lives. And we do this each day; rekindle the sparks of our purpose to find again
our love. Because we do long to be in love in what we do, with another and with
who we are. We love to love, love to share, love to give, love to make things
that shine, and of course, we love to be happy.
It seems that the human task is to ‘make love’,
to give birth to it by our will. And
this we do, in our choices of passion and in the struggles we endure to bring
our heart’s love to life.
The Heart Knows What the Mind Cannot See by Toby Negus
GENRE: self-help, mind body spirit
BLURB
This is a thought-provoking and enlightening
exploration of spirituality and perception. The text functions as a guide to
self-improvement, with a mixture of autobiographical elements and snippets of
universal wisdom. The speaker provides accessible solutions to life’s
difficulties, and an outlook of optimism applicable to any circumstance. The
illustrations and graphics are thoughtfully chosen, and the interactive textual
elements give this work an originality that sets it apart. The speaker’s own
experiences and conclusions are at the heart of this fiction, and the first
person narrative voice creates a sense of proximity between author and reader.
The text describes itself as ‘a journey to the heart’, and this truthful
discovery of the self is reflected in the speaker’s revelation of his whole
self through the text. The narrative often presents a dichotomy between positive
and negative outlooks or voices.
For example, the speaker includes sections in which
his self-doubt speaks, ‘you’ve got no proper education, you can’t spell
properly, you’re dyslexic and your grammar is crap. You’re not really a
writer’. This negative voice directly opposes the sense of self-belief the
speaker builds within the narrative. He uses examples such as this to remind
readers that the journey to happiness is complex and that flaws or setbacks are
natural. The negative separation or fragmentation of the self is prevalent in
the lines, ‘I do not love the grumpy me, the sad me, the hostile me, the parts
of me that act as if I do not care’. The act of writing represents a
unification of the self and an attempt to reframe the speaker’s life into coherence.
The frequent use of direct address and rhetorical questions promotes an active
reading experience, in which the author opens up a dialogue with the reader.
The text includes prompts and activities for the reader to engage with and
learn from. Encouraging readers to take part in the text is emblematic of their
journey to self-fulfilment and love, in which they must take responsibility for
actively creating their own happiness.
The speaker depicts his process of enlightenment as
a framework for others to emulate, and the format of the text demonstrates the
transfer of agency to those who take part in the speaker’s challenges at the
end of each chapter. This work ultimately teaches us that ‘we are the cause of
what is’ and thus sheds light on the crucial idea that every individual has the
power to create themselves and their world positively.
EXCERPT
Real learning is not what we expect. If we could expect it,
it wouldn’t be learning.
I looked in the mirror today and saw more than who I thought
I was; within the eyes was a million years of purpose. I saw the depth of the
universe and felt its unfaltering love. It was as if I had seen the divine
within myself, the truth of who we are. The us that never dies, the custodian
of our purpose, the love of our life.
This wasn’t what I expected and was somewhat sobering. There
was no blinding light, no sound of trumpets, and no big handshake with an
almighty. But it was as profound as if there had been. For it seemed I was
touching an eternal part of myself, an authority within that could create my
heaven on earth, that was already in heaven on earth! It was a glimpse of
something other than the me I thought I was. Its light questioned the lack of
self-care and love I held for myself. And its presence would eventually crack
and then dissolve my view of what I thought it meant to be human.
Doing a spiritual journey and tackling self-development
issues can give many profound perceptions, and I have had my fair share of
them. But this was different, this was personal. It was my eyes that were
looking at me, something that I could not escape from. It could not be brushed
off as a ‘perhaps’ or a nice perception that subsided over time. Its truth
seemed to embed itself into my very soul.
AUTHOR Bio and Links
Toby
Negus has studied and taught spiritual and personal development in the UK and around
the world for over two decades. He is qualified in advanced counselling, as a
life coach and as a Cognitive Behaviour therapist. He is an Amazon best-selling
author of a collaborative Conscious Creators book and has illustrated and self
published two books on the subject of self-awareness and the spiritual journey.
He is also a published author of a children’s book The Boy Who Dreamed in
Colour. He has given talks and run workshops in support of his published work
within the UK.
In
the last few years, he has created many pieces of artwork that are a reflection
of his spiritual journey. These have appeared in magazines and have been
exhibited in the UK.
Oath-Breaker River Starr (Shadow Pact, #1) Publication date: May 5th 2022 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
No one survives their meeting with the Angel of Death—except for me.
After being accused of rallying citizens to revolt against him and breaking the rules of engagement with demons to save my best friend—guilty as charged on both accounts—the Angel of Death demands to personally oversee my sentencing in his obsidian castle of demons and death.
I’m done for. This is the end. But my death won’t be in vain—I’ll die a martyr to the Paladins Order’s cause, and I’ll rescue my best friend at the same time. She’ll be safe and the paladins will pick a new leader. They’ll thrive and continue the fight.
Or so I think. When judgment day arrives and I’m knelt before the Angel of Death, with his onyx eyes, his ebony hair, and his seductively imposing stature, my soul doesn’t leave me.
It soars.
Because when I dare to look the Angel of Death in the eyes, everything changes. And what unfolds in my anger and vengeance’s stead is a thread of events I never could have foreseen.
I survived my meeting with the Angel of Death. But can I survive his love?
OATH-BREAKER is the first of a M/F paranormal demon romance duology full of steamy goodness.
I am a lover of book covers and am always curious how a cover gets chosen for a book. So, I would like to welcome River Starr to tell us about her cover for Oath Breaker.
Oath-Breaker and its sequel Oath-Maker were
fun books to work on covers for! I worked with one of my favorite artists on
trying to find a blend between the romance and action readers are to be
promised. Working with cover artists on covers is one of my most favorite parts
of being an indie author. What artists can do by bringing the story and
characters to life is truly amazing.
For Oath-Breaker, I knew I wanted both main
characters portrayed on the cover as well as the background to contain a
castle. Throw in some wings and Ayla’s celestial sword, and we have the cover
that exists today!
The cover for Oath-Maker includes a bit of
a change… but you’ll have to check out Oath-Breaker for how it comes to be!
Thanks so much, River, for making an appearance on fundinmental,
Author Bio:
River Starr writes books that help you escape, especially fantasy romance full of magic and supernaturals. Favorite things: coffee, wine, chocolate, and a heavy dose of books to chase away the dark… or invite delicious darkness in.
Liquid Foundations Lisa Acerbo (Hell in a Handbag, #3) Publication date: April 13th 2022 Genres: New Adult, Post-Apocalyptic, Supernatural, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult, Zombies
Even the most solid foundation can be shaken.
No place is safe anymore, and I’m on the run from something new.
The putrid stink of zombies has been replaced by sulfur, feces, and wet dog. The High Point Inn has been abandoned, the landscape plagued by the unimaginable, animal-hybrids. Wolves and bears rise from the grave or maybe they never died. Sure, the hordes of undead humans are diminishing, but whatever lies in wait is faster, smarter, and spurned by the devil himself.
With Caleb, Lilly, and Eric at my side, I search for friends and suFictiorvivors. But the new evil has arrived.
I can’t run quick enough.
The wolves are here, and they’re hungry, not to mention cunning and cruel. Endless rains force my group underground and into a cave system. Lost in the interminable, pitch-black subterranean tunnels, I struggle to keep my sanity and my life. There’s only one place in the world that makes sense anymore, and that’s where my friends are.
If I can survive the dark and the zombie wolves, Hopewell, Maine, here I come.
Her eyes found the offending window, and the Streaker who launched through it. What had once been a squat man in a flannel shirt and jeans had turned into a distended corpse in blood-crusted rags, its bloated stomach exposed for all. The Streaker wore a wrinkled face with the consistency of a peach left too long in the sun. One arm hung limp, fingers gnawed away.
Did something do that to the Streaker, or did it eat away at its own flesh?
The monster staggered to the curb and stopped, pointing its chin to the sky, and taking in a breath through black, decayed nostrils. Its next meal had arrived, served up and ready to be consumed. Patches of skin had been torn away, exposing the rot that lived underneath. With a mewl, it lumbered at Jenna. The Streaker’s stare met her with singular intent. Eyes dead and unblinking, it closed the distance between them. She equaled food, and the risen dead was hungry.
In a practiced motion, Jenna released her bowie knife from the sheath on her belt. The monster stumbled over a garbage can in its path. Moving close, it reached out.
“What’s that smell?” Jenna ducked and swung low and hard. “Step back, foul one. God, you reek. Haven’t bathed in forever I’d guess. Personal hygiene not a priority these days?”
The Streaker growled in response and stretched a mottled, pus-clotted arm to grab her camo jacket.
“They’re slower than they used to be, Jenna, but don’t get too smug. The bite might not kill you, but the infection can.” Lilly tilted her head. “Need help?”
Eric moved closer, a similar knife in his hand. “Don’t worry. I got you covered.”
Jenna kicked at the creature. “Eric and I can handle this.”
The Streaker staggered back, but then surged forward again. “I’ll keep watch.” Lilly surveyed their surroundings. “Where there’s one, more to come.”
“Did you just make that up?” Eric asked.
“I like to rhyme,” Lilly said. “Appears clear.”
“One of your many talents.” Eric sent a smile her way and turned back to face the enemy.
“Come here, big boy.” Jenna took a step back into the center of the road where less debris meant less to trip over.
“Me or the monster?” Eric joked.
The Streaker trailed Jenna, the remains of its ragged flannel shirt fluttering open. Guts leaked out of its sliced chest cavity and slipped out of the tattered remains of clothing.
Jenna gagged. “There’s something no girl ever wants to see. Put it away and be a gentleman.”
“The gentlemanly thing to do would be to find dinner somewhere else.” Eric moved behind the creature. The undead mewled.
“That’s all you got for me?” She stepped back, hoisted the bowie blade, and slashed. The knife embedded itself between the creature’s eyes. She sliced higher. The blade released with a pucker. She stepped back. The zombie closed in. “Guess I missed my mark.” Jenna dodged the lumbering monster.
Eric’s knife slashed the Streaker’s back with a repeated, steady swing. Strips of skin and black goo melted to the ground.
Jenna sliced across the creature’s neck, stabbed, and drew her knife away, hearing the suck of release. She skidded back. “Why won’t it die?” Jenna eyed the creature for a weakness.
“Maybe you have bad aim.” Eric carved out new wounds, but the monster stretched its arm making it impossible to get close.
“Could be that it’s already dead.” Jenna frowned. “I have great aim and practice a lot more than you to make sure I never lose it.”
“I’m younger and more fit.”
“We’ll see about that.” Jenna moved behind the writhing creature. She hoped to catch it unaware, but the monster spun, its lifeless eyes meeting hers. Jenna jumped back and huffed out a breath. “So much for the element of surprise.” She’d better practice those battle skills a few more hours a day.
“What’s the plan?” Eric sidestepped to refocus the Streaker’s attention on him. “More firepower? Bring out the big guns?”
“Don’t want to attract more.”
Eric scooted close and then backed away. “I’ll draw its attention. You finish it from the rear.”
“Sounds like a firm plan.”
“Not in this case.”
Jenna eyed the undead. “True. Very saggy from this view.”
“Get on with it, you two.” Lilly waved a hand at them. “I don’t want to hang around here any longer than I have to.”
Author Bio:
Lisa Acerbo is a high school teacher and adjunct faculty at a local community college. She lives in Connecticut with her husband, daughters, two dogs, and horse. When not writing, she mountain bikes, hikes, and fosters dogs.
Seeing I am such a cover hound, I thought it would be interesting to get Zanne Raby’s take on the cover for Descent Into Darkness. It sure is colorful and intriguing, making me want to know what is happening. Welcome Zanne.
Subject: Discuss your cover
Hello All! I’m really excited at being
featured as a guest author on the Fundinmental blog and I’d like to thank Cheryl
for inviting me to write about the cover of my latest novel, Descent into
Darkness, the second book in the sci-fi/ space opera series, “The
Chronicles of Deneb”. Since I’m working on a series I’d like to begin with a
little background to set the scene.
Let’s jump forward to the year 2080 CE. In the sixty years separating us from the characters in my series, humanity has just about ignored every little bit of science related to our climate catastrophe and allowed our beautiful planet to plunge into decay. Politicians and big multinational companies wore blinders over the decades that resulted in droughts, famine, and mass migration. But rather than own the problem, the developed world manned the guns and doubled down on isolationism. That’s not all folks, because NASA, the European Space Agency and ROSCOSMOS banded together and created the Space Ark Project – three massive shuttles that were built to be the saviors of the human species. Except in 2080, that’s not what’s really going on. When Dr. Daniel Radu, the project manager of the United States of North American’s Space Ark Project, overhears the truth he decides that he’s not going to take it lying down. He didn’t get to be one of the best astronomical engineers on Earth by twiddling his thumbs after all. Daniel arranges for his team to take control of the Space Ark Mayflower and off they go, leaving the rotting planet and the even rottener politicians behind while they rocket through space and on to their destination: Deneb7. Now fast forward three years to 2083 CE and let’s catch up with the crew in the second novel of the series, Descent into Darkness, where they try to integrate into Denebian society. Little did the intrepid space travellers realize that the desert planet was populated until their arrival and by then, it was too late. The war-like denizens of Deneb sent out a greeting party and you can just imagine that things didn’t go so well for the crew. The refugees try their best to integrate with their new neighbours. But what do you know, the humans bring along some unintended guests in the form of a deadly disease that begins to blaze through the local population. With Denebians dying like flies, a lack of communication and a series of misunderstandings spark off a deadly planet-wide conflict. The cover of Descent into Darkness is a reflection of this. The fires of war blaze in the background while one of the powerful warbirds descends through the roiling clouds of smoke to bring battle to the enemy. The entire planet is ablaze and I tried to capture that on the cover bThanky portraying mushrooming clouds of greasy orange smoke billowing up from the ashes of destruction. Above it all, isolated from the carnage, is one of the weapons of annihilation. There, high above the wreckage and safe in their warbird, a pilot is about to make their descent. High above the planet’s ravaged surface they soar, unseeing of the destruction they unleashed on the city below, unaware of the carnage they wrought that extinguished thousands of lives. The title of the novel, “Descent into Darkness”, alludes not only to the actual massacre of the population and destruction of the planet exacted by the war on Deneb, but also of the moral abyss into which the characters find themselves falling. In the novel’s cover, I’ve tried to distill some of the more important elements of the plot to incorporate them into the cover. If you want to dive into the depths of Deneb, why not to pick up a copy of Descent in
Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts. Happy to have you here, Zanne.
Descent into Darkness: Mayhem follows the
Mayflower in the second book of The Chronicles of Deneb series. Journey along
with the crew of the Space Ark Mayflower as they adapt to their new home on the
planet Deneb. But along with their struggle to integrate into an alien culture,
a new battle sweeps across the planet with the arrival of the human-transmitted
Chimera bactovirus, bringing war and fanning the flames of racial intolerance.
With a bloody conflict raging across the planet, the crew of the Mayflower is
split between the two factions and embroiled in the chaos and destruction.
Descend with the crew into darkness, where the only survivors of a global war
will be on the right side of the border.
EXCERPT
“Pallav? You alright?” Tara’s voice broke him from his
reverie and he pasted on a phony smile.
“Sorry darling, I was a million light years away. I’ll be
fine,” he promised. Sweat trickled down his back in the unrelenting heat of the
Denebian day, his disruptive pattern shirt already sticking to his body as he
shrugged into his rucksack.
“Daddy, I’m gonna miss you.” The chirpy sing-song voice of
little Jolanta gave him cause to smile at the child as she held out her arms to
him. Swooping her up, Pallav dropped a kiss on the little girl’s rosy brown
cheek, her eyes glistening with tears.
“And I’m going to miss you too, little one.” Hugging the
orphaned girl to his chest, he burrowed his face into the cloud of dark hair
that was as soft as a feather before pinching her cheek and gently setting her
down. Guilt pierced his heart at the sad resigned look on the child’s face. Had
it not been for him, Jolanta would be snug as a bug with her biological parents
and not in lockdown high above the capital city living with a pair of humans.
Poor little thing… she’s known so much loss in her short
life, he thought. Surrounded by death as the human Chimera bactovirus raged
across Deneb, Jolanta had been cruelly abandoned by her mother after Tara
retrieved the fallen child from the cobblestoned marketplace in the centre of
the capital city. He could still picture his wife walking through the door with
the tiny tot in tow. Shocked, surprised, but then captivated, Pallav let the
child into his heart. It wasn’t like his two teenagers wanted him around
anymore. No, Luke and Isabella were busy chartering their own course in the Wessel
world with Gomalan insisting that they attend the best boarding school in the
nation.
Taking advantage of his position, Pallav had initiated a
thorough search for Jolanta’s parents only to get confirmation that they were
amongst the thousands in Styria who had succumbed to the pandemic. Since her
arrival, the young orphan had been his little shadow, never leaving his side,
following the big man’s movements with her luminous opalescent eyes. He smiled
inwardly at the thought of Jolanta climbing into her little cot and begging her
new daddy for a bedtime story. Guilt-ridden he realized that he’d miss her more
than his own children who were so immersed in their new lives that even their
weekly holotalks were rushed and awkward. Laughing at himself, Pallav knew he
was totally under the child’s spell.
“I promise to be back in time for market day, so no tears,
okay?” Taking the little urchin’s chin in his hands, Pallav stared into her
eyes. “And you have a promise to make to me too young lady, don’t you?” The little
brown head nodded up and down, serious eyes acknowledging the responsibility
her adopted father had assigned to her.
AUTHOR Bio and Links
Since the days of
the Napoleonic War, there has always been a member of Zanne’s family in
uniform. Choosing to follow in the footsteps of her ancestors, Zanne joined the
Canadian Armed Forces in 1980, and was selected to attend the Royal Military
College of Canada – the first year that women were accepted into that
prestigious academy of learning. After graduation, she studied to become a
Transportation and Movements Officer in the Royal Canadian Air Force.
During a career
spanning 38 years, some of the most memorable experiences involved command of 8
Mission Support Squadron as part of Joint Task Force Afghanistan, leading a
study on support to the Canadian Arctic involving several trips to Northern
Canada, including Canadian Forces Station Alert (the most northern settlement
in the world), a three–year tour with NATO at Joint Force Command Brunssum, a
deployment as the NATO Liaison Officer to United States Central Command, and
finally a nomination as the Deputy Commander for the Canadian Forces Recruiting
Group.
After hanging up
the uniform and putting away the combat boots, Zanne bought a small acreage in
Central Ontario and designed her own house. With an office overlooking the
picturesque shores of Georgian Bay, surrounded by maps and images of alien
worlds, she is pursuing her life-long ambition to become an author. Enough of
the reports and returns that littered her desk over her career, now she could
turn her attention to unleashing the creativity that had taken a back seat to
the analytical world of logistics. The time had come to shake the dust off and
begin a new career. The winds of change had called.
Zanne is
currently crafting The Chronicles of Deneb, a sci-fi series that will
take the reader from a dystopian earth on a voyage across the galaxy in search
of a safe haven. But the planets the team discover provide anything but the
sanctuary they sought. In her spare time, Zanne enjoys travel, photography,
hiking, and gardening. And always, a good story to pass the time.
