⭐PUYB Virtual Book Club⭐

Monday, September 2, 2019

Blog Tour Kick Off: Twists Turns & Truths by Jayne Sanders #selfhelp #memoir

TWISTS TURNS & TRUTHS
Jayne Sanders
* Self Help/Memoir *

Title: Twists Turns & Truths – The Life and Lines of a Master Scientific Hand Analyst
Author: Jayne Sanders
Publisher: Full Gallop Press
Pages: 204
Genre: Memoir/Self-Help

A master scientific hand analyst and conversational storyteller, Jayne Sanders courageously reveals several of the more emotive high and low experiences of her life—stories about everything from love to animals to abuse, and then connects some of her characteristics involved to relevant markings in her hands. Readers will laugh, cry, cheer, and even wince as they peek into her journey full of challenges, celebrations, and vulnerability. Jayne’s stories demonstrate how Scientific Hand Analysis provides a blueprint to who people are and why they’re here on the planet, their gifts and tripping points, and answers to their big why questions.

How might your stories show up in your hands? Do you have some of the gifts and challenges Jayne shares in these revealing tales?

Jump right in to find out, and prepare for twists, turns, and eye-opening truths.

Praise:

Reviewed By Liz Konkel for Readers’ Favorite
“Twists Turns and Truths: The Life and Lines of a Master Scientific Hand Analyst by Jayne Sanders is a thought-provoking read with an inspiring voice, scientific hand analysis, and personal stories. The book is used to teach readers how everyone’s own experiences are reflected in their hands and how to understand each detail.
Each chapter is written with genuine honesty and an admirable openness, revealing different experiences which she then uses to show how these are seen in her hands. Several examples of hand analysis follow each chapter which makes it easy to understand and learn the significance of every moment in your life through every detail in your hands. Also throughout are lovely poems which tie into various stories. The poems have a stunning lyrical style with profound emotion and depth drawn out of each, making them perfectly fitted to the voice and tone of the memoir aspects. Twists Turns and Truths is a unique read with honest stories told through an emotional lens and with a focus on scientific hand analysis, ideal for those seeking honest memoirs, genuine voices, and unique topics.”

★★★ORDER YOUR COPY★★★

Amazon → https://tinyurl.com/yxzf3kfu

______________________

I promise not to chicken out on you.

To start, let me say that I was blown away. The very first Scientific Hand Analysis I received in 2012 answered questions I didn’t even know I had. It explained so much about my life, the ups and downs, the wins and losses, the joys and pains. It also answered big questions I did know I had, gave me deep insight, opened me up to innate gifts I hadn’t recognized, and provided my North Star for purpose, fulfillment, and taking action on problem areas. It changed my life.

So I want to share some of these discoveries with you, told through my memoir of sorts
—selected stories of my life that demonstrate many of the traits that are etched in the blueprint in my hands.

My hope is that you will laugh, wince, cry, and cheer with me as you read these stories. It is actually quite scary, vulnerable, to share some of these tales. But I don’t want to hold back, because I know that readers are too smart for that. I know you will see right through me, that you will recognize when I am chickening out and glossing over or leaving out the difficult or potentially embarrassing or controversial stuff. I want to be brave.

Some stories are about horses I have loved, but most involve humans. I have changed the names of people involved, but not the horses, as I know they don’t mind.

What I’ve discovered through my own story and those of my clients is that your hands will tell you about you and your life. They will answer the big questions many people ask—Who am I at my core? Why am I here on the planet? What legacy am I meant to leave? What are my innate gifts and talents? Why do those challenging patterns keep showing up? What can I do to reduce pain and trouble in my life? Why do I feel lost, confused, bored, overwhelmed, or depressed? Why am I experiencing relationship, money, or health issues? How can I adjust, and what steps can I take to make life even better?

My desire with this book is to demonstrate to you the depth and accuracy of Scientific Hand Analysis, using stories from my life and guiding you to apply relevant markings to your life. I want to share how the characteristics I have and have had, show up in my hands. Your hands will tell much of your story too.

My hope is that you will see some similar strengths and challenges in your own life, and if you are interested, learn how to take action to use the strengths for good, and reduce the more troublesome events and feelings. I want to help you, and anyone I can reach, love your life even more and smooth out some rough edges. I want you to crave living in alignment with your innate purpose.

I’d still be writing if I included every story from my life of any meaning. And I’d also still be writing if I addressed all the markings I have in my hands that are relevant to each story. So I’ve selected a few of the more prominent and important markings and described the topline of each. My intention is not to provide a primer, or a Scientific Hand Analysis (SHA) 101 how-to book. My intentions are to help some of you understand yourselves and your life better, spread the word about this life-changing work, so accurate that forbes.com wrote an article about it, and instill in you the fascination about SHA that most people experience when they hear about it.

I have referred to some of my markings several times intentionally, so that you can see how the same marking can show up differently in your life, as they do in mine. The more important markings have several messages for us.

I want to trigger some curiosity about what your hands have to tell you and help you identify a bit of what is there. And, I hope some of you can learn from the mistakes I share in some of my stories, perhaps recognizing some of the markings in your own hands and increasing your awareness of how related challenges may show up in your lives so you can take action.

This work is what guided me to living on purpose, finally. SHA profoundly changed me and my life, in the best way.

It is not predictive nor fortune-telling. I can’t tell someone when they will meet their soul mate nor how many children they will have. Nor do I want to. Here is what I know for certain—regardless of how good your life is now, if you take action on the information in your hands, it will only get better. That is the only “prediction” I make.

So please join me as I take you on a journey through some of the ins and outs, up and downs, struggles and accomplishments, heart wins and heartbreaks of my life—and how they show up in my hands.

I promise not to chicken out on you.

So I want to share some of these discoveries with you, told through my memoir of sorts
—selected stories of my life that demonstrate many of the traits that are etched in the blueprint in my hands.

Some stories are about horses I have loved, but most involve humans. I have changed the names of people involved, but not the horses, as I know they don’t mind.

This work is what guided me to living on purpose, finally. SHA profoundly changed me and my life, in the best way.

So please join me as I take you on a journey through some of the ins and outs, up and downs, struggles and accomplishments, heart wins and heartbreaks of my life—and how they show up in my hands.

A MASTER Scientific Hand Analyst and Purpose & Law of Attraction Coach featured in a FORBES article about her work, Jayne Sanders helps leaders, business owners, and managers love their lives and their work.

After an MBA and many years in the corporate world, Jayne did a complete 180 and now reveals your innate purpose, special gifts, and blind spots, then guides you into the inspired meaning, passion and fulfillment you crave in life and work. Corporate and team benefits are numerous as well.
When not doing her purpose work, Jayne can be found out on the trail riding her beautiful Arabian/Appaloosa horse, Darby, or eating dark chocolate J.

WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:

Website → https://precisionwisdom.com/
Blog → https://precisionwisdom.com/blog/
Facebook → https://www.facebook.com/PurposeWisdom/
And → https://www.facebook.com/jayne.sanders.1297
Goodreads → https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/47582803-twists-turns-truths

Blog Tour Kick Off: Patrick Turns His Play Into Pay @playintopay #children

PATRICK TURNS HIS PLAY INTO PAY
Shani & Patrick Muhammad
* Children *

Title: PATRICK TURNS HIS PLAY INTO PAY
Author: Patrick Muhammad & Shani Muhammad
Publisher: 5 Star Publishing
Pages: 40
Genre: Children’s Book

Once great and powerful sorcerers, the Amasiti were hunted to the brink of extinction by the Hir and his followers. For four hundred years, their legacy faded from memory waiting for the hope of Aferi to be renewed…

In the Land of Yet

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest

A young woman lives alone.

Forced to fend for herself after the brutal murder of her family, Ameenah Yemini has made a life for herself as a master tanner and farmer, only venturing into the world to earn her living then return to the safety and seclusion of her home.

Until a chance encounter brings her work to the attention of the powerful Hir and her careful life begins to unravel.

Drawn to the hidden magic that lingers in everything she touches, the new Hir insists on having her for himself, using the people around her to force Ameenah into his grasp.

When she realizes that her greatest enemy may hold the key to a secret she thought lost to her forever, Ameenah is determined to reclaim her stolen past. But, at what cost? As an ancient power waits to be unleashed, Ameenah’s choices will make the difference between awakening a new magic or delivering it into the hands of evil.

ORDER YOUR COPY:

Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/yxqrrsrz

B&N: https://tinyurl.com/y38gg5y8

______________________

South Florida based janitor turned serial entrepreneur, Patrick Muhammad took what some would call an unconventional route to his newest venture. “What I do now has evolved. It truly took my passion and has turned it into a profession for me. I can see myself mentoring and sharing my story with young people easily for the next 20 years. I love talking to young people and showing them, what entrepreneurship looks like. I love sharing my stories of how I came to be. I didn’t just wake up one day and have all the answers. My wife and I bumped our head A LOT. I just want to say to them, look…here’s the blueprint. Start now, don’t wait until you’re 30. Passion has no age requirement, and has no limit on how many you can have. I started out as a janitor, then became a baker now I am into motivational speaking. They just have to have the passion and guidance. Anything is possible.”

“Patrick Turns His Play Into Pay” is the 1^st book in a series of children’s books authored by husband and wife writing partners, Shani and Patrick Muhammad. The idea for the book was created one night while trying to explain the reason there was a gigantic, neon, pink and orange food-truck, now sitting in their front yard to their then 4 year-old Qadeer. Patrick and his wife came up with the idea that they would write a keepsake item for all their children, detailing the road they took to becoming entrepreneurs. The primary message is simple. By tapping into your passion early in life you can turn your playdays into paydays. Once the book was published they both realized that the story could not only inspire their own children to entrepreneurship, but others as well. Shani figured out how to self-publish it and Patrick would take it to different youth groups in his community. “I began shopping the book around to childcare centers and non-profits that served young people in the projects and the adults loved it. “They really loved the idea that it was based on a true story and that the message was coming from a black male perspective. A story their children could relate to. The images were brown like them and I just always got a positive response. We took that book everywhere with us, and the response was this is a message that’s needed. Children can’t be what they can’t see.”

Patrick currently lives in South Florida with his wife and three of his youngest five children. He has a passion for planting the seed of entrepreneurship and carving out wealth building opportunities for his children’s generation. When he’s not writing books he’s on tour, speaking to groups of young people about basic principles of financial literacy and the benefits of early investing using cryptocurrency as a vehicle to establish future financial goals. When he’s not doing that…he’s on a creek with a fishing pole in his hand.

Shani Muhammad has been married to Patrick for 17 years now. Together they have 5 children and 3 grandchildren. Shani has spent the past 15 years in a classroom as a teacher. She too is a serial entrepreneur and has in the past owned a one-price shoe store, group homes and several online businesses. When she’s not working on the next children’s book in their series, she too enjoys researching and investing in crypto currencies and planning her family’s next “staycation.”

WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:

WEBSITE | TWITTER | FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM

Blog Tour Kick Off: A Garden On Top Of The World by Virginia Aronson #YA #ecofiction

A GARDEN ON TOP OF THE WORLD
Veronica Aronson
* YA Ecofiction *

Title: A Garden on Top of the World
Author: Virginia Aronson
Publisher: Dixi Books
Pages: 112
Genre: YA Ecofiction

The year is 2066 and life in Greenland is much warmer and more crowded, and lacking in fresh food. Sixteen-year-old Jonnie lives in the Relocation city of Shamed, where hundred-story high rises house extended families from American coastal cities relocated after the Sixth Sea Rise. Work and school are conducted from overcrowded apartments, while the homeless camp out on the streets below. Jonnie is intersex and identifies as she, although her family pressures her to identify as he.
Jonnie’s parents run a high-tech call center out of their apartment. Her older siblings work there, and Jonnie must share a bedroom with two much older nieces. For quiet and privacy, Jonnie often retreats to the empty rooftop.

Red is a homeless man who takes up temporary residence in a pigeon coop on the roof. After Red talks about the seeds in the birds’ droppings, Jonnie gets interested in heirloom seeds. Jonnie knows little about how food grows because meals come in packages ordered online and delivered by drone. Armed with a new understanding of old-fashioned garden-grown food, Jonnie is determined to create her own garden on the roof of her high rise. Along the way, she meets a former cryosphere scientist, a botanist with an urban indoor garden, and twins her own age, one of whom is intersex.

A GARDEN ON TOP OF THE WORLD is environmental fiction for ages 12 and up. Jonnie’s search for who she is and what she might be able to offer the world is one that will resonate with readers of all ages. The information she learns about healthy food, sustainable agriculture, and urban gardens may inspire readers to start their own gardens.

ORDER YOUR COPY:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2XvMlrd

______________________

Introduction

"This is the way the world is fed."

Just think
about how our world might change in the near future. With the increase in
global temperatures, polar ice caps will have experienced significant melting,
causing significant rises in sea levels. Coastal cities will be threatened and,
unless adequate precautions have been taken, vulnerable areas of the world may
have to be evacuated. Food and land will become more scarce, feeding the world
much more difficult.

Right now less
than a hundred thousand people live in Greenland because most of the country is
snow and ice, permafrost. But if our earth grows much warmer, less hospitable
areas of the world like Greenland could become more populated as cities facing
massive water intrusion relocate residents. 

How many people
might be homeless if the global situation becomes dire? How many will be
unemployed? With advancements in automation, how many will be unable to find
work?

In the coming
decades, what will the world look like? Where will we live? What will we eat?
Will people be different than they are today?

Medical experts
have cited an increase in births of intersex babies. Human sexuality is
changing, becoming more fluid and less defined. In the future, as the global
population advances to 10 billion, such developments could be seen as
adaptation, a desirable evolutionary change.

What about
sexual (and racial and ethnic) equality? What about pollution? What kind of
technological changes will there be in 30, 40, 50 years?

Now imagine
that you are a young person living in the year 2066. 

And now, meet
Jonnie.



Chapter
One

Once I finish
my schoolwork, I have nothing to do until dinner. Everyone else at my house is
working. When I remove my headgear, I can hear them. Talking, talking, talking.
The sound is a deep, bone-rattling drone, interrupted by occasional bursts of
laughter or yelling.

So annoying.

My family is in
the call center business. This means they don't do anything; instead,
they talk for a living. Talk, talk, talk. And the work is international. This
means they talk all day long and right through the night. You would think they
would want some peace and quiet when they're not working, but this is not the
case. Even off-duty, my family is always talking. Always gossiping and
laughing, shouting and arguing, blathering on and on. 

I'm the
youngest and there are a lot of them and only one of me, so I rarely get to
speak. Not that I want to yack all the time. I prefer quiet. A serene, calm,
peaceful quiet. So I've had to adapt. Most of the time I tune them out. 

But sometimes I
can't block out the noise. That's when I sneak out. I wish I could do
something, like hit the streets and explore, but this is not allowed. They think
I'm still too young to be out alone where there's poverty and crime. So
instead, I go up to the roof. It's not much and there's nothing to do, but it
is quiet up there.

I'm going to
head up there right now.

First I put on
my niece Kamara's soft blubber boots and my dad's dog-fur coat. I slide thick
white Dura-Soy socks onto my hands to keep them warm. Nobody at my house owns
gloves. My mother says there's no need to go outside in the bad weather. We
have everything we need right here, in our home.

I'm not so sure
this is true for me. Being stuck inside, studying and hanging out all day, is
so boring. Only when I'm reading or researching or doing interesting schoolwork
am I content. When my mind is engaged, it goes elsewhere. Zoom! But escape is
only temporarily. I always come back here, to a crowded apartment in a crowded
building in a crowded city. 

I want to go
new places. I want to do amazing things.

Right now,
however, I have to complete high school. I'm a year ahead, a junior at sixteen.
I like being challenged, but digiworld education is pretty easy. However, I
love environmental history class and nature science. I love looking at how the
world around us used to be, the early people and their simple lives, the wild
animals and their natural homes. Everything was so different back then. Nothing
looks like it did in back in 2000, 2025, even as recently as 2050. There's been
so much rapid environmental change and so many social adjustments, it's a whole
new world.

I glide through
the living room without disturbing anyone. They rarely notice me anyway, tucked
in their tiny cubicles, encapsulated in their surround-sound head screens. I
don't walk past my parents, though. Those two have eyes in the back of their
heads and they could snatch me by the hoodie and hold me here. Maybe even
assign some useless chores. Or, even worse, try to make me do some call work. 

No thanks.

But I'm
invisible, so out the door I slip and up the stairwell I go. Up, up, up,
jogging two stairs at a time, eventually slowing to a brisk step-up walk. My
breath comes out in frosty spurts. The stairway is cement and holds the winter
chill. 

It's a good run
up the stairs to the top, so I use it as exercise. I want to be fit and strong
so I can go on adventures. Explore other parts of Greenland, then explore the
rest of the world. But I'm sort of huffing as I power up the flights. Sitting
inside all day is not good training.

At the
ninety-ninth floor, I stop for a moment to admire my lucky talisman. An
abandoned spider web, which has been here as long as I've been coming up from
the second floor. Dusty and wispy, it hangs in the corner off the rough gray
wall. The web is perfect, an incredible design still intact. I wish a spider
lived in it. I would love to see a real live insect, observe one in its natural
habitat. 

I remove the
sock from my hand and reach up, gently feeling the soft silk. Impressive how a
female spider can create such gossamer material inside her own body. I'm not
sure what I will create inside mine because I am intersex. That means I am part
male and part female. I may have eggs, I may not. Whatever is in store for me,
I will never be able to weave beautiful webs, that is certain.

I drag myself
up the final flight and lean against the door to the roof. The heavy steel is
especially difficult to push open today, which indicates it's extra windy
outside. I shove the door with all my strength and, with an aggressive grunt,
manage to open it wide enough that I can slide through. I'm small and thin,
making it easy for me to fit into some of the places I wish to go. Only I want
to go everywhere. Travel the world. Visit the moon. Take up residence at one of
the space hotels, and jump on the shuttle to Mars. 

Yet here I am,
stuck in the sad city of Shamed with my loud telemarketing family.

The wind is
biting, it chews at my face and neck. I pull up my hood, feeling sorry I didn't
borrow my niece Kamara's seal headdress. That kooky thing makes me look like I
have a pile of blubber on my head, but it keeps my ears warm.

I hurry across
the vast expanse of the empty roof to my spot. A small bench sits between the
solar heating units. The afternoon sun is still bright and, tucked here out of
the wind, I am soon warm and cozy.

I drop the hood
and turn my face to the sun. Winter all over the globe is mild and brief these
days, but here in Greenland it used to be brutal. Back then, nobody could sit
outside in March, their face to the winter sun.

Warmed enough
now, I pull out my dad's World War Three binoculars and stare at the activity
on the streets below. Most working people are inside, at home, probably on
their headgear. Those hanging around outside are homeless. Too many Shamed
residents are unemployed, and lots of families lose their apartments and end up
on the streets. My family is lucky to be employed.

Two raggedy men
sit side by side on the icy sidewalk, waiting for donations. I watch an elderly
man stop to give them something, but I can't tell what it is. It's flat, kind
of square, so it looks like an old book. But books are exceedingly rare, so I
doubt anyone here would donate one. After the guy shuffles off, the two beggars
argue over the donation. I watch them fighting over their prize until I'm
bored.

The streets are
harsh today. Gusts of cold wind rip off seal hats and shake solar lamp posts.
Kids dressed in layers of oversized clothing huddle in doorways. I feel sorry
for them. If you have no place to live and no screens, you have nothing to do.
You can't even go to school.

I check the
sky, looking for birds. But I don't see any. Usually I don't. There are so few
trees in the city that birds are as rare as books.

As I scan the
neighboring buildings, I peek in the uncurtained windows. I'm imagining what
the residents' lives are like in the apartments that surround ours. Sometimes I
can see people moving around their rooms, and I create stories about them in my
mind. The women care for others like my mother does. The men have interesting
work that keeps them from being bored with the limits of city life.

Two kids who
look around my age live in the building just south of ours. A girl and a boy, I
think. It's hard to tell because so many kids are intersex. They might be
twins, they sure look a lot alike except one has like an afro and the other has
long straighter hair. They study and eat together, often huddling to talk. They
nudge each other, make funny faces, laugh. Watching them makes me feel both
happy and sad. I wish I had someone like that in my life. My siblings are much
older than I am. Even my two nieces are in their twenties. My mother told me my
birth was a bit of a surprise. Had to be, she was over eighty when I was born.
My parents have great-grandkids who are around my age. So my grandnieces and
grandnephews are teenagers too.

Confusing,
right?

There's no sign
of the twins today, and nothing much to see in the other windows. The frosty
wind whistles in the distance as I look across a seemingly endless vista of
rooftops. Rooftop after rooftop, stark gray and lifeless. No people, no
furnishings, no swimming pools or pretty tile patios like in the historic
photos of old city buildings in places like New York and Miami, Paris and
Shanghai. Here in Shamed, the city skyline looks like an empty parking lot,
just gravel and asphalt that stretches as far as you can see. In the early part
of the millennium, lots of cities had restaurants and observation decks on
building rooftops. How cosmic that must have been! Dining close to the stars!
Looking out at the brilliant blue sky, the green vista below with flowering
trees and pretty parks. Birds flying by, settling in the treetops. And singing!

When my parents
were kids, they lived in an alive world. Such a different world than mine. I
feel ripped off. Still staring though my spy glasses, I sigh heavily.

"Feeling
grumpy, are we?"

I jump off the
bench, my binoculars bouncing against my chest, then whacking my chin. I can
feel my heart racing faster than it did when I jogged up the stairs. I've never
seen anyone out here on the roof. Nobody comes up here but me.

An old man with
reddish gray hair stands a few feet away, his arms outstretched. A smirk
escapes from beneath his bushy beard. After a few seconds of us just staring at
one another, a large blue-gray pigeon suddenly appears and lands on his right
hand. 

I startle and
step back, but he grins. "Wait. There's more," he says.

Another pigeon,
a pudgy brown one this time, lands on his left shoulder. He rolls his eyes and
that makes me laugh. I can't help it, he looks crazy! 

"There,"
he says, his grin widening when a white dove plops down on the crown of his
head. "That's better."

Virginia Aronson, RD, MS, is the author of more than forty books. She is the Director of Food and Nutrition Resources Foundation, a non-profit corporation that supports individuals, organizations, and communities actively seeking to improve access to healthy food, nutrition education, sustainable and regenerative agriculture, and a socially just food system. She is the author of two books of ecofiction: A Garden on Top of the World (Dixi Books, 2019) and Mottainai: A Journey in Search of the Zero Waste Life.

Website Address: https://fnrfoundation.org/

Blog Tour Kick Off: The Wolf Queen by Cerece Rennie Murphy @cerecermurphy #YA #fantasy

THE WOLF QUEEN
Cerece Rennie Murphy
* YA Fantasy *

Title: THE WOLF QUEEN: THE HOPE OF AFERI (Book 1)
Author: Cerese Rennie Murphy
Publisher: LionSky Publishing
Pages: 242
Genre: YA Fantasy

ORDER YOUR COPY:

Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/yxqrrsrz
B&N: https://tinyurl.com/y38gg5y8

______________________

I knelt before Safaro, as I swore I would never
and accepted his chain.  I watched as he
swelled with pride, eclipsing any possibility that he would discover my plan.
Blind purpose and certain victory propelled him forward without the slightest
concern for why a woman who had defied him every day of her life would have
surrendered so easily.  I bowed my head
and followed, prepared to betray everything I knew to preserve the hope of what
we could become.



Like a slave, he brought me dutifully to his
master.  We rode through the gates of
Elan to the Hir who sat outside the battlefield on a tall, white horambus that
was draped in blood-red velvet.  The Hir
spared only a second to regard me with contempt before sending me with Safaro
to the center of the battle where our right to exist would be decided.  



All around me, from every corner of our world,
the people of Yet fought against the tyranny of the Hir.  Closing my eyes, I could smell their desire
to live, to protect their loved ones, and see them survive past this day as if
the earth itself was calling out to me. Once again I looked to Safaro for any
sign of the boy I loved, but he was nowhere to be found.  He knew, as I did, that while their resolve
was as hard as iron, the people of Yet were not warriors.  Worse, we’d only had months to prepare.  From the power-crazed look in his eyes as he
surveyed the battle, I knew that the Hir had been planning the expansion of his
Kingdom his entire life. 



The final battle came to our doorstep just
outside the city of Elan, where our defenses had held as fiercely as they
could, but it was only a matter of time. 
The people of Elan, the peoples of Yet had given no ground easily, with
mounting casualties on both sides, but the Hir had too much of everything we
lacked: weapons, men, strategy, and now the most powerful Amasiti at his beck
and call.  



With me at the their side, they pressed
forward.  The poison chain connected my
will to Safaro’s, so that the power between us acted as one, except only I
understood the true meaning behind the Hir’s command to create an earthquake
that would swallow his enemies.  Safaro
could wield my power, but only I could give it the purpose that would call it
into being.  



I knew what the Hir’s soul was meant to be.  His greatest enemies were not in front of
him; he was surrounded by them, masking the truth of his insanity behind greed
and false adulation.  



And so, when I spread my hands wide and bellowed
across the sky “I am the Sorceress of Elan, now and always,” I did what I was
meant to do: create. 



The boats of Elan were just out of firing range,
harboring the men, women, and children who were unable to fight.  Only the strongest were allowed to keep the
front. It would be difficult for them to escape, but they had a better chance
than anyone who was not privy to my plan. 



I felt the fissure crack open far beneath me,
then bubble up and break with a diagonal energy just 100 feet from where I
stood.  The fissure would only hold for a
few minutes, announcing itself as a warning of things to come, so that my
people would have some time to retreat, before the fault folded back on itself
and consumed everything standing. 



Safaro watched with satisfaction as the people
of Yet began to run.  He did not
understand until he watched them forego the high ground of Elan and run into
the sea.   He rushed forward just as the
fissure we created together broke open into a chasm that pulled the dirt right
out from under the Hir’s army. 



The people of Yet scattered as the depths
swallowed the Hir’s front line.  As soon
as the last of my people were safe, I took it all. The land that held Elan to
the shore of Yet fell away, allowing the water to rise up, pounding out new
territory as it ripped through the battle field.  But it was not enough.  



It was only then that I understood that creation
and destruction are often the same thing. 
As the sea claimed its prize, I opened up the foundation of Elan
itself—breaking it from the bottom like an egg. 



The power of the sea did the rest, opening her
arms to the island in an eternal embrace that left only the tip of the land
visible, with the children I had left there clinging to the ancient trees.



Fear, terror, and isolation had burned through
their innocence, but in exchange I had given them something else—a chance to
survive and create something new, to evolve into sorcerers who were also
warriors.



As Safaro twisted the poison chain around my
neck, I imagined I could see the eyes of all those Amasiti children and hoped
only for their forgiveness.



And in the burning light of my death, I ascended
to the withering screams of the Hir, Safaro, and all his murderous men and was
at peace.

Cerece Rennie Murphy fell in love with science fiction at the age of seven, watching “Empire Strikes Back” at the Uptown Theater in Washington, D.C., with her sister and mom. It’s a love affair that has grown ever since. As an ardent fan of John Donne, Alice Walker, Kurt Vonnegut and Alexander Pope from an early age, Cerece began exploring her own creative writing through poetry. She earned her master’s degrees in social work and international relations at Boston College and Johns Hopkins School for Advance International Studies, respectively, and built a rewarding 15-year career in program development, management and fundraising in the community and international development arenas – all while appreciating the stories of human connection told in science fiction through works like Octavia Butler’s “Wild Seed,” Frank Herbert’s “Dune” and “The X-Files.” In 2011, Cerece experienced her own supernatural event – a vision of her first science fiction story. Shortly after, she began developing and writing what would become the bestselling Order of the Seers trilogy. Order of the Seers was selected as one of The Best Kindle Books of 2014 by Digital Book Today. To date, Mrs. Murphy has published nine speculative fiction novels, short stories, and children’s books.

In addition to working on the 3rd book in the award-winning Ellis and The Magic Mirror children’s book series with her son and releasing her 5th adult novel, The Wolf Queen, Mrs. Murphy has launched NARAZU, an online platform designed to deliver the best in indie sci-fi content and comic culture to the fans who love it most. You can visit the new site at www.narazu.com. Her current writing projects include the second book in The Wolf Queen duology and plotting a science fiction thriller set in outer space. Mrs. Murphy lives and writes in her hometown of Washington, DC with her husband, two children and the family dog, Yoda.

Website: www.cerecerenniemurphy.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cerecermurphy
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Cerece-Rennie-Murphy-205753729546299/