solar pulse Archives - fundinmentalfundinmental

What a gorgeous cover for If The Sun Spares Us by Breanda Marie Smith. I have been on an apocalyptic reading kick for a while now, and the Braving The Light Series sounds like a fabulous read and I am happy to share it with you.

IF THE SUN SPARES US by Brenda Marie Smith

GENRE: Post-apocalyptic thriller

Two years ago, a solar pulse destroyed modern life. Bea Crenshaw organized her starving, suburban neighbors into a farming community. But now Bea’s gone, and her grandchildren must carry her legacy forward.

In the post-apocalyptic pressure cooker of Austin, Texas, 19-year-old Keno and his younger cousins struggle to ensure their community’s survival even as they’re forced to relocate to safer grounds. Northern Lights that don’t belong this far south grow increasingly intense, making Keno fear what harm the sun will cause next.

Even worse, a marauding militia called the Raiders is closing in, led by a deranged woman who preys on teenage boys. Despite Keno’s debilitating flashbacks from a firefight, he and his wife have a new baby to protect. Though Bea is dead, her spirit desperately searches for ways to shield her grandkids. When Raiders target two neighborhood members, the only hope lies in the community’s strength, Keno’s ingenuity, and the family’s fierce love for one another.

EXCERPT

In the next second, thick neon bands of green light shoot into the sky like they’re spewing straight out of the earth at the horizon, the aurora pulsing and soaring hundreds of feet into the air toward the stratosphere. This is nothing like the tame Northern Lights we’ve had off and on over the past year, but crazy-bright and thick and enormous. None of it belongs in Texas. I stare at the lights, getting dizzy from their movement and intensity.

The guys out on the street whistle and shout… I close my eyes to get my bearings.

Residual streaks of light burn my eyeballs and flash across my eyelids, then mutate into the recurring, overly-vivid memories I can’t shake: flaming, screaming boys, falling fiery trees, bursting Molotov cocktails, strafing assault rifles—a hand slaps across my mouth and covers my nose, and Richie’s behind me, yanking me to the ground, hissing, “Shhh! Shhh! Don’t scream.”

“The End of Days is upon us, and we’ve got work to do!” shouts the woman from the street. “Head back north.” The feet start tramping around. “Jonesie, north’s the other way.”

Richie’s pressing so hard on my mouth and nose he’s gonna suffocate me. My tears run over his hand. Flaming bodies still flash before my eyes while green lights burn in the sky overhead…

I grab his hand to yank it off, but he presses harder. I panic. Dude’s gonna kill me.

AUTHOR Bio and Links

BRENDA MARIE SMITH is attracted to stories where everyday characters transcend their limitations to find their inner heroism. She lived off the grid for years in a farming collective where her sons were delivered by midwives. A lifelong community activist, Brenda has managed student co-op housing, produced concerts, and raised a small herd of boys. She and her husband live in Kyle, Texas. They have more grown kids and grandkids than they can count.

SOCIAL MEDIA: