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Snow Dust and Boneshine Tour

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The Chronicles of Granny Witch (Book 1)

Paranormal Romance, Historical Fantasy, Magical Realism, Visionary
Fiction

Date Published: December 27, 2020

 

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Once upon a winter’s night, a lost cowboy finds himself in Purgatory Bend.
Patrick Doolin is plagued by a wound that won’t heal, but winter is the
season of miracles. As Patrick wanders through Wyoming, he meets Fawna
Darling, the mysterious granny witch, who channels the folk magic of her
ancestors.

With nowhere to go and a secret Patrick doesn’t yet understand, he seeks
shelter with Fawna in the snowswept prairie. Forbidden to fall in love, they
form an eternal bond in the dreamscape, but when the bluebirds sing of
summer and threaten their empire of dreams, they are faced with an
impossible decision. Will Patrick stay in the land of the living, or will he
cross over the prairie?

Summer is the season of surprises, and Fawna’s childhood sweetheart, Dezi
Ketchum, longs to win her heart too. When winter melts across the gold-slick
prairie, Fawna searches for answers under the rose moon. Caught between fire
and water and flesh and fantasy, she follows her heart and ventures into
uncharted territory.

 

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Praise for Snow Dust and Boneshine

 

“A warm and spellbinding tale…Soleil’s writing flows like a stream,
relaxing and exotic. Mixed with folk magic, simpler times and beliefs, this
is a wonderful escape.” ~ Tome Tender

“Soleil’s writing is riveting…It’s much more than a fantasy – it’s a
story of love and faith.” ~ Literary Titan

“Curl up under your blanket, grab a cup of tea, and let yourself wander
between magic and reality in Purgatory Bend…Snow Dust and Boneshine is one
of the sweetest, selfless, heartbreaking but also heartwarming love stories
I have ever read…The characters, the atmosphere, and the imagery are done
so beautifully. Every description made me sink my teeth into the story just
a little bit more.” ~ Snez at Book Lifey & A Quintillion Reads Book
Club

“Snow Dust and Boneshine was incredible…There’s romance, intrigue and lots
of magic. It’s very well written, so much so, I could feel the cold and
bitter wind as I read about it. The characters are beautifully written, and
I could see it playing out as a movie as I read. I highly recommend picking
this one up. 5 stars all the way.” ~ Angela Scavone, Author of Celebrity
Status

“This story was magical and fascinating with an element of surprise. It was
well-researched and beautifully thought out to bring us so many amazing
details. If witches and love stories set in a small town with a sprinkle of
magic interests you, I would urge you to read this.” ~ Kriti Dalmia at This
Reader Girl

 

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EXCERPT

Prologue: Angel Creek

Wolf Moon, 1854

Patrick Doolin hid behind a sunbaked boulder, his bare ribs sticking to the sagebrush. He grabbed the wet, mushy hole in his belly, his heart pounding, his ears ringing raw. Around the bend, there were howling beasts in the canyon, sniffing his blood trail. Trapped in the crossfire, he closed his eyes and pretended it was all a bad dream. He cloaked himself in a cloud of dust and prayed for invisibility. Patrick didn’t know whether to beg for his life or submit to death’s sting, but instinctively, his body forced him to gasp for air. 

From the moment he boarded the ship last summer, he regretted leaving Ireland. He missed the sheep-strewn pastures and the soggy sea cliffs. He missed the rolling fog and the taste of coddle by firelight. By the grace of God, Patrick survived the great hunger, and despite its brutal aftermath, he still yearned for his motherland, for fairy trees and cloud cover. It was better to be hungry at home than stuffed to the gills with strangers.

Patrick’s father suffered the most during the great hunger, so when a fever ravaged him last February, he was too weak to recover. Although Patrick bowed his head and prayed every morning, his father was skin and bones by Easter. Worst of all, his father’s spirit was troubled by Patrick’s black-hearted brother, Liam, so Patrick made a deathbed promise to his father. He vowed to look after Liam come hell or high water.

As soon as their father rattled his last breath, Liam set his sights on California. After the wake, the Doolin brothers boarded a ship to Philadelphia. From there, they made the long trek to Dakota territory. It took them three months to reach their uncle’s homestead, and by the time they arrived, old man winter was already there. The Doolin brothers agreed to work for their uncle until the following summer and then make their way to California, but after Christmas, Liam didn’t want to wait any longer. 

Patrick knew they were late to the gold rush. Their uncle showed them the newspapers and implored them to stay in Dakota. He said it was treacherous to travel in the dead of winter, but there was no reasoning with Liam, so the Doolin brothers saddled up and battled the pelting ice and blowing snow. They slept under giant fir trees, their fingers and toes tingling with frostbite. They hadn’t been on the trail for long when Liam started a gunfight with a goliath of a cowboy, then disappeared into thin air. 

Now, Patrick was all by himself, stranded somewhere between Dakota and Wyoming. Utterly disoriented, he clutched his belly in agony and stumbled through the wilderness. He meditated on the pine trees as they swirled into a blur of whistling green. Patrick saw trains and ships in the shadows. He saw the sea cliffs of Ireland in his dreams. When he couldn’t take another step, he collapsed on the edge of Angel Creek, his wounded body glinting red with sunburn, his sticky blood mingling with the cold stream. 

As he faded in and out of mortality, he saw a young woman with hair as black as a raven. A pack of wolves surrounded her and swaddled her porcelain skin with their ashen fur. Patrick couldn’t get a good look at her face, but he caught a glimpse of her scarlet lips. She was nothing more than a stranger to him, but he took comfort in watching her dance through the shimmering snowfields. As he stood there in the frozen prairie, held captive by the bone-chilling wind, he felt strangely warm as though a hearth was glowing inside him. 

The next morning, an old cowboy named Charlie was fishing for salmon when he came across Patrick’s body floating belly-up in the creek. Charlie took Patrick for dead, but as he got closer, he witnessed pulse and breath. Charlie rubbed his eyes in disbelief. He figured there was a reason this poor man was still alive, so he slung Patrick over his shoulder and lugged him for half a mile, dabbing his sweaty face with a red bandana. When he got back to his wagon, he plopped Patrick down next to the salmon and gave him a ride to Purgatory Bend.

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 About the Author

Grendolyn Peach Soleil

Grendolyn Peach Soleil was born in the Appalachian Mountains on a full
moon. She is an old soul and a folk magic fiend. Grendolyn loves twisted
fairy tales, all things vintage, tales of true love, and creature features.
Some of her fancies include pumpkins, black cats, mermaids, tea parties,
cowboys, dahlias, and sunsets. She is a member of the Visionary Fiction
Alliance and The Independent Author Network. Grendolyn is the author of
Limbo Jubilee, The Mermaids Melt at Dawn, and Snow Dust and Boneshine: The
Chronicles of Granny Witch (Book 1).

 

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Apollo’s Raven Blitz

 

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Curse of Clansmen and Kings, Book 1

 

Historical Fantasy

 

A Celtic warrior princess is torn between her forbidden love for the enemy and duty to her people.

AWARD-WINNING APOLLO’S RAVEN sweeps you into an epic Celtic tale of forbidden love, mythological adventure, and political intrigue in Ancient Rome and Britannia. In 24 AD British kings hand-picked by Rome to rule are fighting each other for power. King Amren’s former queen, a powerful Druid, has cast a curse that Blood Wolf and the Raven will rise and destroy him. The king’s daughter, Catrin, learns to her dismay that she is the Raven and her banished half-brother is Blood Wolf. Trained as a warrior, Catrin must find a way to break the curse, but she is torn between her forbidden love for her father’s enemy, Marcellus, and loyalty to her people. She must summon the magic of the Ancient Druids to alter the dark prophecy that threatens the fates of everyone in her kingdom.

Will Catrin overcome and eradicate the ancient curse. Will she be able to embrace her forbidden love for Marcellus? Will she cease the war between Blood Wolf and King Amren and save her kingdom?

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About The Author

Linnea Tanner

Award-winning author, Linnea Tanner, weaves Celtic tales of love, magical adventure, and political intrigue into the backdrop of Ancient Rome and Britannia. Since childhood, she has passionately read about ancient civilizations and mythology. Of particular interest are the enigmatic Celts who were reputed to be fierce warriors and mystical Druids.

She has extensively researched ancient and medieval history, mythology, and archaeology and has traveled to sites described within each of her books in the Curse of Clansmen and Kings series.

A Colorado native, Linnea attended the University of Colorado and earned both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in chemistry. She lives in Windsor with her husband and has two children and six grandchildren.

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The Gotten Blitz

 

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YA Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, Young Adult

 

Published: November 12, 2020

Publisher: Tell-Tale Publishing Group

For Fans of Neil Gaiman, Divergent, and Stranger Things…

No one knew about the doorbell until the news story of the boys’ mysterious disappearance.

If certain people couldn’t own the doorbell or if it rejected them, they wanted to destroy it and the boys behind it, calling it a hoax.

Ivor and Inge Borg have been tracking Astrid Sims, who has escaped from the ancient Norse myth as Skuld, the weaver of the future, fate and destiny of humankind. She’s the norn of the future. Urd of the past and Verdandi of the present. Ivor and Borg need her return so they can continue to spin the threads of life and decide the fate of all human beings. Skuld was reborn and escaped into a new childhood existence. She emerged as a teenager in the 1950s and later as a wife and mother in an American heartland town.

The Borgs recruit disappointed miracle seekers. When they threaten the boys to force Astrid’s / Skuld’s return, much to the anguish of their parents, their sons have to disappear. Accused of being a witch and a demon, Astrid spirits the boys into the future. They don’t find what they expect and they don’t like what they find.

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Excerpt

A profound silence stretched through the endless serenity of the massive forest. Blisters of unidentifiable sounds periodically erupted among the treetops as some form of communication. Invisible creatures brushed against the boys verifying their existence.

Where are we?” asked Steven. “What are we doing here?”

The boys had been disoriented since the moment of their arrival. They had no choice but to trust where Astrid was leading them. They could not make sense out of what they encountered unrelated to their former lives.

I brought you here to save you from the seekers who want to control you,” said Astrid. “Ivor and Inge were sent to bring me back to my origin. Since I refuse, they will punish me for desertion by taking your lives because you are my friends.”

Do you mean we’re stuck here? We can never go back?”

No, I have a plan, but it’s dangerous to all of you and to me.”

Tell us what we have to do,” said Ray. “We can handle it.”

What do this Ivor and Inge want from us?” asked Steven.

They want to control the present and the future. They want to determine your future rather than letting you decide. That can be done only through me. The doorbell works only through me.”

How do we decide?” asked Eddie.

You have to find your way. You have to each decide how to create your future.”

You mean we can make up what happens to us?” asked Ray. “I like that.”

That’s because you like to make up stories,” said Steven. “Stories aren’t real.”

Are what we doing real?” asked Clement.

That’s up to you,” said Astrid. “What you imagine can be real to you.”

What about everybody else?” asked Eddie.

What others see about you is back in the present,” said Astrid.

What are we supposed to do?” asked Steven. “Where do we go? There’s nothing here but trees and woods.”

This is my world,” said Astrid. “This is where I came from.”

Then you really are a witch,” said Steven, “if you came from a forest and brought us here like this.”

I prefer to be called a wicca,” said Astrid.

That sounds like witch to me,” said Steven.

Are there others like you?” asked Ray.

There are others in my world, but no one like me.”

So, what are we supposed to do?” Steven asked again. “Where do we eat and sleep?”

What about going to the bathroom?” asked Eddie. “Do we just go behind a tree? And where do we get toilet paper?”

Astrid laughed. “The things that concern you I find amazing.”

Well, it’s true,” said Eddie. “This is like camping out in Scouts, only we don’t have any camping equipment.”

You don’t need camping equipment. The world in the future isn’t the same as where you came from in the present. Your needs are not the same.”

Well, I still need food,” said Steven. “I’m hungry right now.” He looked at his friends. “Isn’t anybody else hungry?”

Yeah, I’m hungry,” said Clement.

Yeah,” Ray nodded. “I could use a hamburger, fries, and a Coke.”

Nothing is real here because the future isn’t real. It’s only imaginary. So you can imagine whatever you would like.”

And we’ll get it?” asked Eddie.

And you’ll get it,” said Astrid.

Does it just appear out of thin air?” asked Eddie.

What you imagine appears only to you and stays in your imagination and you can do with it in your imagination, but it won’t actually exist.”

I’m liking this,” said Ray. “It reminds me of The Twilight Zone.”

The future is beyond The Twilight Zone,” said Astrid. “The present will become your future. It is your experience and will eventually become your reality.”

That’s weird,” said Clement, “but I kind of like it too. Someday, we can get what we wish for.”

Not necessarily,” said Astrid. “A wish is only a wish. It’s not reality. It might be a starting point but you have to do the work to make it happen. That’s why you go to school.”

I’m not learning anything in school I want to do,” said Steven.

Of course you are,” said Astrid. “You’re learning basics you’ll need for later.”

You sound like my mother. When I grow up, I want to do something that’s fun.”

What do you think that will be?” asked Astrid.

I don’t know yet.”

That’s what I mean. You have to discover it.”

What do we do here?” asked Eddie. “We don’t just want to stand around. It is a woods. I like woods but I don’t just want to stand around.”

What you’re going to see is beyond the trees,” said Astrid.

Something keeps touching me,” said Ray brushing at his shoulder. I don’t see any insects, but it doesn’t go away.”

It likes you,” said Astrid. “It just wants to be your friend.”

What likes me? There’s nothing there.”

There are other forms of existence in my world,” said Astrid. “Some are more advanced than humans.”

That sounds like my kind of story,” said Ray. “What are they, aliens?”.

No, they were once human creatures just like you. They decided to stay in this world rather than go back.”

You mean they’re spirits?” asked Ray

Actually, they are your spirits.”

Ours?”

Yes, from the future. They are going to accompany you.”

Where?” asked Clement.

You will see soon enough,” said Astrid.

Wait a minute,” said Eddie. “What do you mean they decided not to go back? If they’re us, we don’t want to stay here. We want to go back.”

I don’t mean you can never go back. While you’re here, your spirit has separated from you and is prepared in case you decide to stay.”

If we decide to stay, does that mean we’re dead? We die?”

Death is in everyone’s future,” said Astrid. “You don’t have a choice of when that will happen to you. You will be gotten.”

 

About The Author

Multi-book author and retired business and management consultant with large, medium and small companies in a wide range of industries throughout the country, Rob Tucker resides with his wife in Southern California.

He is a graduate of the University of California, Santa Barbara and of the University of California, Los Angeles with Bachelor’s and Masters of Fine Arts Degrees. He is a recipient of the Samuel Goldwyn and Donald Davis Literary Awards and has also worked in advertising, corporate communications, and media production.

An affinity for family and generations pervades his novels.

His works are literary and genre fiction that address the nature and importance of personal integrity.

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Raging Sea – Blitz

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Dragon’s Dove Chronicles, Book 3
Historical Fantasy
Release Date: March 11, 2019
Publisher: Pendragon Cove Press
Outcast, clanless, and but a junior officer in Arthur the Pendragon’s army, Angusel struggles to rebuild the life stolen from him through betrayal by the person he had held most dear. His legion allegiance thrusts him onto the campaign trail as one of Arthur’s forward scouts, stalking Angli troops and being among the first to clash with these vicious enemies at every turn. But the odds loom high against him and his sword-brothers, and they will need a miracle just to survive.
Pressured to make the best choice to ensure her clan’s future leadership, Eileann struggles with her feelings for Angusel, whose outcast status makes him forbidden to her as a mate. When Angli treachery threatens everyone she loves, she vows to thwart their violent plan to conquer her clan. But she is no warrior, she has no soldiers to command, and she will need a miracle just to survive.
How can one soldier make a difference? How can one woman save her kin and clan? In the crucible of combat, Angusel must surrender to the will of the gods, and Eileann must invoke divine power to forge the most dangerous warrior the world has ever known.
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Other books in the Dragon’s Dove Chronicles
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Dawnflight
The Dragon’s Dove Chronicles, Book 1
Publisher: Publisher: Lucky Bat Books
What if King Arthur’s queen was every bit as heroic as he was? Find out by immersing yourself in this epic story of the power couple whose courage and conviction would shape the destiny of a nation.
Gyan is a Caledonian chieftainess by birth, a warrior and leader of warriors by training, and she is betrothed to Urien, a son of her clan’s deadliest enemy, by right of Arthur the Pendragon’s conquest of her people. For the sake of peace, Gyan is willing to sacrifice everything…perhaps even her very life, if her foreboding about Urien proves true.
Roman by his father, Brytoni by his mother, and denied hereditary rulership of his mother’s clan because of his mixed blood, Arthur has followed his father’s path to become Dux Britanniarum, the Pendragon: supreme commander of the northern Brytoni army. The Caledonians, Scots, Saxons, and Angles keep him too busy to dwell upon his loneliness…most of the time.
When Gyan and Arthur meet, each recognize within the other their soul’s mate. The treaty has preserved Gyan’s ancient right to marry any man, providing he is a Brytoni nobleman—but Arthur does not qualify. And the ambitious Urien, Arthur’s greatest political rival, shall not be so easily denied. If Gyan and Arthur cannot prevent Urien from plunging the Caledonians and Brytons back into war, their love will be doomed to remain unfulfilled forever.
But there is an even greater threat looming. The Laird of the Scots wants their land and will kill all who stand in his way. Gyan, Arthur, and Urien must unite to defeat this merciless enemy who threatens everyone they hold dear.
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Morning’s Journey
The Dragon’s Dove Chronicles, Book 2
Publisher: Publisher: Lucky Bat Books
In a violent age when enemies besiege Brydein and alliances shift as swiftly as the wind, stand two remarkable leaders: the Caledonian warrior-queen Gyanhumara and her consort, Arthur the Pendragon. Their fiery love is tempered only by their conviction to forge unity between their disparate peoples. Arthur and Gyan must create an impenetrable front to protect Brydein and Caledonia from land-lusting Saxons and the marauding Angli raiders who may be massing forces in the east, near Arthur’s sister and those he has sworn to protect.
But their biggest threat is an enemy within Urien, Arthur’s rival and the man Gyan was treaty-bound to marry until she broke that promise for Arthur’s love. When Urien becomes chieftain of his clan, his increase in wealth and power is matched only by the magnitude of his hatred of Arthur and Gyan—and his threat to their infant son.
Morning’s Journey, the sequel to the critically acclaimed Dawnflight, propels the reader from the heights of triumph to the depths of despair, through the struggles of some of the most fascinating characters in all of Arthurian literature. Those struggles are exacerbated by the characters’ own flawed choices. Gyan and Arthur must learn that while extending forgiveness to others may be difficult, forgiveness of self is the most excruciating—yet ultimately the most healing—step of the entire journey.
 
Excerpt
For the first time in a year and a half, Angusel was returning home.
To his birthplace, he corrected himself. “Home” had become a barracks chamber.
He marveled that Stonn seemed to remember the lands surrounding Senaudon, tugging at the bit and prancing higher by the league. It took Angusel’s last mote of skill to keep his stallion from bolting down the path ahead of the Pendragon and Centurion Cato.
And why shouldn’t Stonn be eager? He had the comforts of a familiar stable awaiting him, not scorn.
Angusel straightened in the saddle, submerging his resentment. Whatever might happen, he would comport himself as one of Arthur’s soldiers, stoic and reserved.
That plan worked until the troop rode to within hailing distance of Senaudon’s gate tower.
His mother chanced to be standing on the battlements, talking to Saigarmor, the guard captain. As Centurion Cato identified the troop, Alayna’s face clouded. She had to resent the Breatanach occupation force—swelled tenfold for the second time in as many years by the soldiers being staged for Angalaranach action—but it seemed to Angusel that her scowl deepened when she made eye contact with him.
Angusel squared his shoulders and looked straight ahead as he’d been drilled countless times to do, thankful for the military protocol to mask the wound rending his heart.
Peripheral vision told him that Alayna had departed the battlements, leaving Saigarmor to act on her behalf in completing the welcome.
Arthur dispatched a soldier to find the Comitissa Britanniam and ordered First Ala to dismount and lead their horses to the staging area’s picket lines while he wheeled Macsen about to join his family’s litter.
The cavalry troop obeyed but hadn’t advanced a score of paces when Alayna appeared, mounted, from through the gate and cantered straight up to the Pendragon.
“What is he doing here?” Angusel had never heard her sound so furious, and the pit in his gut confirmed that he was the he she had meant. He kept his gaze trained forward as he clenched Stonn’s reins, mindful not to drag on them and hurt his horse’s mouth. The heat in his cheeks and the sweat coursing down his back he did his best to ignore. “What gives you the right to violate Caledonach customs with such blatant disregard?” she demanded in Caledonaiche.
Arthur gave her a long, cool appraisal. “My soldiers are here upon my orders,” he answered her, wielding an improved Caledonaiche accent. “All of them. If you have a quarrel, it is with me and no one else. Not even my wife. We can settle this quarrel, you and me, in the nearest combat ring and to the death, if that is your wish.”
“My wish? You don’t give a bloody damn about what I wish. I’ll wager you can’t guess what I wish!”
“That you had never underestimated me in the Battle of Abar-Gleann?”
Angusel heard the undercurrent of humor in the Pendragon’s voice and pursed his lips to contain the smirk.
About the Author

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Kim Headlee lives on a farm in the mountains of southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, fish, goats, Great Pyrenees goat guards, someone else’s cattle, half a million honey bees, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied as recently as the midtwentieth century—seem to be sticking around for a while yet. She has been a published novelist since 1999 and has been studying the Arthurian legends for half a century.
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Queen of Zazzau – Blitz

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Historical Fantasy/Mythical Realism
Date Published: November 20, 2018
Publisher: Afrocentric Books | Mugwump Press
 
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Amina is heir apparent to the throne of Zazzau and must prove she is worthy of the crown. As foreign invaders close in on them, she is all that stands between her people and destruction. Caught in a web of prophecies, she must defend Zazzau, but cannot do so if she wants to prevent the future that was foretold. She did not seek war yet it finds her. Unwilling to be the plaything of gods or men and determined to take control of her own destiny, she tracks down the god of war himself. But has her destiny already been written? Can she choose her own fate? And can she protect her kingdom, no matter what price she must ultimately pay? Because, gods always want something in return.
Queen of Zazzau is an Historical Fantasy that takes place in precolonial West Africa.  It chronicles the life of one of the most famous W. African queens, Amina of Zazzau (or Zaria). At 139,000 words, the novel features several W. African historical figures and a pantheon of W. African gods. The story is told in first-person and gives the reader an intimate look at some of the lifestyles and cultures–many of which are still alive today–of medieval W. Africa.
Excerpt
I dreamed. Not a dream of laughing brooks and water spirits; I dreamed of an empty plain. I stood in the field, yellow-green savanna grass swaying in the wind. As its soft whistle grew to a roar, the grass whipped my legs violently. But it wasn’t the wind roaring; it was men. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands suddenly surrounded me. Each man fought the other with murder in his eyes.
My uncle was among them. Sword in hand, he lunged at the nearest half-naked man and brought down his blade, cutting into the other man’s shoulder. His enemy howled in pain but did not fall. The soldier rushed forward, still howling, pushing the sword deeper into his own flesh, and stabbed at Karama with a long-knife. Karama swept the knife away with a braceleted wrist. Then his wrist came down on the howling man’s head, burying the raised, serrated edge of a war bracelet in his skull.
Dislodging his bracelet, my uncle pushed the corpse off his blade. He turned and saw me. Our eyes locked for only a moment before a spear sprouted from his chest. Screaming, I ran to him but was buffeted by a sea of men. The faster I tried to run, the farther away my uncle was.
“Uncle,” I cried. “No!” But the wave of men pushed me to the ground. Curling into a ball, I tucked my head under my arms, closed my eyes, and screamed as the men stampeded over me.
Silence.
I opened my eyes, confused, sweat slick on my brow, tears still damp on my cheeks. The men were gone, but I could hear their cries. Climbing to my feet, I scanned the vast savanna ocean. A mud altar that hadn’t been there before now stood beside me. Blood spilled from the edges of the altar like melting wax. The men’s cries came from the structure. From the thousands of tiny figures piled upon it. At first, I thought they were living dolls, but they were the miniaturized bodies of men suffering myriad violent deaths. These were the casualties of war.
I stared at the mangled bodies, some of which were writhing in pain, and somehow knew these men had died—were dying—in the battle many leagues away. Frantic and nearly petrified by what I might find, I searched for my uncle among the bodies. There were so many Zazzagawa and Kwararafa mingled in the pile; I couldn’t tell one fallen soldier from another.
Wringing my hands, I backed away and reminded myself not to let fear subdue me, but terror pounded in my chest. The stink of death hung over the altar like a horrible fog that choked my lungs. Retreating from it, I came up against something hot and solid.
I froze.
The thing behind me shifted. It spoke.
“Look upon Death, Beloved. And know it for what it is.”
I spun around, stumbling backward, to find myself staring at the chest of a very tall man. Still trying but failing to fully master my fear, I took another backward step and looked up at who stood before me.
Towering over seven feet, the man had skin like polished ebony. He wore a vivid red and gold kilt that hung to just above his knees and a black cloak so long it brushed the ground. Black leather bracers with gold clasps covered his forearms. The open cloak was slung back over his shoulders, exposing a lean, powerful torso that rippled with muscle under smooth, dark skin.
I followed the contours of his chest, his long neck, a proud jawline. Save for the pointed tuft of hair on his chin and the thick, black eyebrows, his face and head were bald. His gaze was not upon me, his chin raised, so I could not see his eyes. I didn’t need to see them. I knew that once he looked at me, I’d be staring into the roiling red eyes of War.

 

About the Author

 

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J.S. Emuakpor was born and raised in West Africa. She is a married mother of four, a scientist, and owner of Afrocentric Books. She currently lives in North Carolina and is very much allergic to it. Most of her writing draws upon the spiritual beliefs of the ancestors who frequently whisper in her ear and on the superstitions that she refuses to relinquish.
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