Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: SERPENT RISING by Victor Acquista @victoracquista #mystery #suspense #thriller

Serena Mendez is haunted and she is hunted…

SERPENT RISING

By Victor Acquista

Serena Mendez is haunted and she is hunted…

… Haunted by trauma—terrified and scarred as a young child, when a secret initiation into an ancient order of Lightbringers went horribly wrong. Unaware of the power latent in her blood, she is haunted by a life out of sync with her true identity. At twenty-one, she is abrasive, jobless, in debt, and addicted to sedatives. Haunted by her past, she knows nothing of her destiny.

… Hunted by an enemy—ruthless and powerful, a Brotherhood that has been pitted against the Luminarian Sects for thousands of years. An ancient struggle continues—The War of the Two Serpents—a saga extending back to the dawn of civilization, to the time of the second breaking, when the elite sought dominion over the masses. Those serving truth and light opposed these dark forces. In return they were persecuted, burned as witches, suppressed and nearly defeated by the powers of darkness.

But the flame was not extinguished.

An old Navajo dream-walker had a plan to open the seven chakras mystically binding Serena’s power. To fulfill her true destiny, to unleash the latent power within her blood, Serena journeys to six continents where she uncovers the truth of who she is, and what she must do.

A warrior stirs, a Lightbringer. She is Serena Mendez. She is awakening. She is a Candelaria…

Serpent Rising is a story of unfulfilled destiny, discovery, transformation, and courage to embrace the truth.

  “Author Victor Acquista has opened a pandora’s box of adventure in his new breath-taking thriller, Serpent Rising. I was swept away from the first page in this wonder-filled, mystical, and compelling novel. Cleverly plotted with a female protagonist, Serena Mendez, that is truly original in ancestry, yet very 21^st century-real, with personal problems that she manages to set aside to pursue the very truth of her being. We join her in this a non-stop rush that mixes equal parts of  history, myth, and lore that I didn’t want to ever end! I’m already looking forward to more of Serena again and again. Acquista is the obvious heir apparent to the globe-trotting, can’t-be-put-down-novels such as The DaVinci Code and The House Of Secrets. Move over Dan Brown and Brad Meltzer, you have deserving company at your table with Serpent Rising!”

— Patrick Kendrick, award-winning author of American Ripper: The Enigma Of America’s Serial Killer Cop. 

 

Amazon → https://amzn.to/3inT9gU

 Barnes & Noble → https://bit.ly/3k1RqOK

BHC Press → https://www.bhcpress.com/Books_Acquista_Serpent_Rising.html

Attention!!!

BLACK FRIDAY SALE

Get your e-copy of SERPENT RISING at Amazon for ONLY $1.99 (reg. priced at $7.99)!!

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CHAPTER ONE

 

Impact…crash…darkness. The bedside table lamp and shattered light bulb lay on the floor, but Serena remained unmoved, without will or inclination to clean up the mess. She stared at the ceiling of her tiny efficiency apartment, lit solely by the eerie neon-green from the alarm clock’s LED. The glass fragments glittered, taunting her to get out of bed. Instead, she pondered the much larger mess of her life. She lay still, in a familiar paralysis of apathy. Somehow, a glimmer of hope broke through her complacence; she reached over and forced herself to set the alarm. Tomorrow she had another job interview. Desperation crowded out the apathy. Constricted by overwhelming inner and outer darkness, Serena’s breath became shallow. Her dry mouth and mounting anxiety muted her scream at life’s injustice into a muffled croak. Tomorrow would come…nothing would change. 

 

Survival. A day without struggle followed by a night of peaceful rest—why did achieving this seem so elusive? Agitated, she threw the bedcovers aside. How much longer could this torture go on? Awake and staring overhead, she felt every bit as broken as the glass shards. Her light within had all but extinguished itself, not unlike the fragile bulb. Could tomorrow be her first step out from the deep dark hole that hollowed her insides? Tomorrow she had another job interview. She double-checked the alarm setting. Serena’s fingertips ached as she desperately clung to the possibility of change. 

 

 Reaching into her bedside drawer, she randomly pulled out some meds and dry-swallowed two pills. Serena didn’t look to check what they were; she kept four or five different sleep meds stashed there. Not that it mattered. None of them worked. Serena needed to speak to Dr. Jenkins about that. Sleep did not come easily to the twenty-one-year-old woman afflicted with anxiety, plagued by PTSD, her life in shambles. 

 

 Sometimes it seemed better to stay awake. Steadily worsening vivid nightmares had been infiltrating her dreams. She tossed and turned, trying to stave off the inevitable, trying to deceive herself that tonight the meds would work. Ensnared between apathy and hope, Serena nestled into a crevice of momentary comfort. Her breathing slowed; the cadence of soft snores interrupted the green stillness. 

 

 It felt cold in the cave. Even lying on the sleeping rug, the rock floor was hard. She shivered, more from fear than the cold. Why did her great aunt, her shibízhí insist she sleep here alone tonight? She remembered her shibízhí saying with no moon the cave would be black. Serena blinked, but it didn’t matter whether her eyes were open or closed; she couldn’t tell the difference. Repeating and following her aunt’s instructions, she crawled to the edge of the pool then stood up to her knees in the still water. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Her shibízhí had said that was the most important thing, not to close her eyes. But she couldn’t see anything. She wanted to be brave; she didn’t want to disappoint her shibízhí, but she was scared. It was so dark. 

 

That’s when she saw something. It was just a blur, a smudge of light. Something glowed and slowly took shape—long and curved, it moved toward her. Immersed in blackness, water up to her knees, the creature moved closer. Wavelets rippled against her small trembling body. What was it? The creature glowed with the shape-shifting form of something. She strained her eyes. It looked like a… “No!” she screamed, shutting her eyes and not daring to move. “Shibízhí, help me!” There was no response, and then it touched her skin, curling around her leg. 

 

Serena bolted up, heart pounding and sweating as she reached to turn on the bedside table lamp, but the broken light with its shattered bulb still lay on the floor. Partly yelling, partly sobbing, “Damn dream! Goddamned dream! Goddamned aunt! Eleven years and you still haunt me!” 

 

She steadied herself by taking two more pills. Wide awake, lying in near total darkness and still terrified, she tried to fall back to sleep. Jaws clenched tight, trying in vain to stop her teeth from chattering; she shivered, gooseflesh covering her arms held close against her chest. It touched me. It touched me. That’s never happened before…

 

 

Victor Acquista has become an international author and speaker following his careers as a primary-care physician and medical executive. He is known for “Writing to Raise Consciousness.” His multi-genre works include fiction and nonfiction and often incorporate social messaging to engage readers in thought-provoking themes.

He is a member of the Authors Guild, the Mystery Writers of America, the Florida Writers Association, Writers Co-op, and is a Knight of the Sci-Fi Roundtable.

When not pondering the big questions in life and what’s for dinner, he enjoys gardening and cooking. He lives with his wife and dog in Ave Maria, Florida.

 

Website: https://victoracquista.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VictorAcquista

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/victoracquistaauthor/

Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: The Color of Together by Milton Brasher-Cunningham #Nonfiction #Christian

 

A book written with honesty and empathy about things common to us all…

THE COLOR OF TOGETHER:

MIXED METAPHORS OF CONNECTEDNESS

By Milton Brasher-Cunningham

Title: The Color of Together: Mixed Metaphors of Connectedness
Author: Milton Brasher Cunningham
Publisher: Light Messages Publishing
Pages: 160
Genre: Christian Nonfiction

The Color of Together begins with the primary colors of life–grief, grace, and gratitude–and enlarges the palette to talk about the work of art that is our life together in these days. The idea for the book began with understanding that grief is not something we get over or work through, but something we learn to move around in–something that colors our lives. Grace is the other given. Gratitude is the response to both that offers the possibility of both healing and hope.

“Locating ourselves in the adventure of life requires reliable tools for exploration. Milton Brasher-Cunningham gives us finely-tuned metaphorical gyroscopes to navigate our way with God, others and even ourselves. The Color of Together will help us find our place again and again along the way.”  ~ Rev. Dr. George A. Mason, President, Faith Commons, Dallas, Texas.

“In his beautiful new book, Milton Brasher-Cunningham shares arresting thoughts on grief, grace, and gratitude. He claims that we are all shaped by our sorrows and generously tells his own stories of loss. All the while, he leads us toward hope. The Color of Together is both poetic and instructive, relatable and deeply philosophical. It awakened my heart to read this book; I hope it will do the same for you.” –Jennifer Grant, author of A Little Blue Bottle

Amazon → https://amzn.to/30Urxsj

 Barnes & Noble → https://bit.ly/3jZ8OD6

Chapter 1

Sometime after we moved to Boston, Ginger, my wife, signed me up for a watercolor class at the Boston Center for Adult Education. Our first task was to make a color wheel. We set the three primary colors—red, blue, and yellow—equidistant from each other around a circle we had drawn on the paper, and then began mixing them to show the shades it took to move from one to the other. The purples, greens, and oranges that filled in the circle illustrated the relationships between the primaries, which stood in such contrast to one another on their own. Wherever we started on the wheel, there was a connection, a way to get to the other colors.

Color is more than pigment. It is figment as well. For us to see color requires an act of imagination and an understanding of relationship.

One Christmas after the watercolors, Ginger enrolled me in an iconography class at Andover Newton Theological School. I spent over a year learning the spiritual practice from a wonderful man named Christopher Gosey. Before we ever picked up a brush, we learned the vocabulary connected to what we were doing. We were not going to paint the icons, Chris said, we were going to write them.

As one who has learned to play with words more easily than with paint, the verb choice caught me. Good writing is descriptive and evocative. The challenge is to show, not tell; to reveal. Good writing tells a story, takes us on a journey, connects us to something larger.

The “cartoons”—the outlines of the figures we would write—had been passed down for centuries, much like basic plot structures in literature, or the elements of grammar and style.

The point of our work was to be faithful to those who had gone before and to what they had handed down, rather than to try and be original. Our offering was to trace the lines others had made and then color them with pigments we had mixed not so we could worship the icon, but so we could open a “window to heaven” to create a “thin place” for connection to God.

The phrase thin place entered our vocabulary through the earthy spirituality of Celtic Christianity. It describes the places where the border between what is seen and what is unseen becomes permeable. Liminal. Thin. Translucent. Transcendent.

It is a sacred space of disquietude; a turbulent silence where things are still and vibrant in the same moment.

As I sat in the sun-drenched room of the aging building, listening to recordings of Russian church bells, and learning how to write my brush across the blank parchment-covered block etched with the image of Mary, I came to understand more of what Jesus meant when he said, “Lose your life to find it.”

Our paint was almost translucent, by design. We mixed our colors by adding natural pigments to acrylic medium. In ancient days, the pigments were blended with egg yolks. The practice of iconography is more about prayer than painting; the necessary repetition was meditative and focusing. As we laid down the colors, we moved from heavier shades to lighter ones, choreography that held intentional theological significance. The first strokes of the lighter colors on the deep background didn’t seem to have much effect, yet, over time, and with intentional repetition, the colors took hold. The deeper tones became the background—the foundation—for the illuminating presence.

Without the contrast, the light would have had little significance. The base substances from which the pigments came were earthy and natural. The black was made from ashes. Some of the browns were made of dirt or powdered stone. At every level, the experience rubbed heaven and earth against each other like sticks to start a fire.

The work of icon writing is deliberate. To get a color to show up on the icon meant going over each line twenty to forty times. The spiritual practice was to turn the repetition into ritual—a sort of physical prayer. The move from heavier tones to lighter ones felt counterintuitive until I began to see the colors dawn on the icon. We traced images that had been handed down across centuries, much like we repeat rituals in worship. Everything about it was fraught with a sense of connectedness, a new way of seeing who we were in the context of who had come before and who would follow. The whole enterprise was steeped in metaphor.

In his letter to the Ephesian church, Paul wrote, “We are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus for the good works which God has already designated to make up our way of life.”

In a sermon on that verse, Ginger said, “We are dust, which becomes pigment in God’s artwork.” The pigments we used to write icons were made from earthy substances, just as we are.

The Greek word translated as work of art is poiema, which even my spell check knows is the root word of poem. Paul said, “We are God’s work of art.” Not works. Work. Not I. We. Together we become the artwork, handmade pigments illuminated by God’s presence, as it has been from the dawn of creation.

Riding the color metaphor train took me to the field of the philosophy of color, which is as esoteric as it sounds, and perhaps, not a journey everyone wants to make. But I took a trip, nonetheless, as I wondered about grief as a primary color.

Philosophers look at the way humans see color, or whether we actually see color at all. One of the ways of seeing is called color adverbialism, which is to say, we do not see red, as much as we see red-ly. What that means is there is a relationship between the object, the perceiver, and the context—another relational trinity.

The philosopher articulating the theory was not being intentionally metaphorical when she said, “Color vision is as a way of seeing things—flowers, tables, ladybirds—not, in the first instance, a way of seeing the colors.” What I heard her say was the colors we see have to be connected to something or someone for them to be significant.

In 2020, our sense of what it means to be together has been heavily shaded by the COVID-19 pandemic. We have lived in quarantine, without the ability to gather, to hug those we love, to share a meal, to go to a baseball game, or to share a pew at church. I have watched people gather on the Guilford Green
in groups of four or five, separating their lawn chairs to an appropriate distance just to be together. As Zoom has begun to feel like a necessary appliance in our lives, we have found ways to change backgrounds so we are surrounded by palm trees and superheroes in our little square on the screen. We are colored by our losses in ways our world has not known so pervasively for over a century.

Life, however, is a litany of losses in any age: failures, injuries, disappointments, betrayals, missed moments, things done and left undone, deaths, falls, illnesses, fears, lowered expectations. Life is also a compendium of blessings, of things for which we can be thankful: families, ball games, good food, starry nights, first kisses and last ones, friends, sunshine, spring rains, puppies, and pie. And life is an abundance of grace, of those things we stumble into, that find us, that surprise us and ambush us with the reminder of a relentless love that will not let us go. All three are true all the time.

Though we often feel them singularly because of our limitations, one is not there without the others. They are the primary colors we see in the context of relationships, with something or someone, in any moment. When we see grief-ly, grateful-ly, and grace-ly, we can see the color of together.

Milton Brasher-Cunningham was born in Texas, grew up in Africa, and has spent the last thirty years in New England and North Carolina. He is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ, and has worked as a high school English teacher, a professional chef, a trainer for Apple, and is now an editor. He is the author of three books, Keeping the Feast: Metaphors for the Meal, This Must Be the Place: Reflections on Home, and his latest, The Color of Together.

He loves the Boston Red Sox, his mini schnauzers, handmade music, and feeding people. He lives in Guilford, Connecticut, with Ginger, his wife, and their three Schnauzers. He writes regularly at donteatalone.com.

Website: https://www.torchflamebooks.com/milton-brasher-cunningham

Blog: www.donteatalone.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/miltybc

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/milton.brashercunningham

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5863259.Milton_Brasher_Cunningham

Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: The Alcohol Con by Michaela Weaver #Nonfiction #Alcoholism #alcoholismrecovery #self-esteem

 

In this ground-breaking book, The Alcohol Con is exposed, and unraveled with insight and humour...

THE ALCOHOL CON: HOW TO OUTSMART IT

By Michaela Weaver

Title: THE ALCOHOL CON: HOW TO OUTSMART IT
Author: Michaela Weaver
Publisher: Parker Press Publishing
Pages: 148
Genre: Self-Help

Is drinking having a negative effect on your life? You are not alone!

Millions of strong-minded, capable people find themselves falling victim to the biggest con trick of our time – alcohol!

It lures us with false promises of fun and social acceptability. Instead we find ourselves caught in a cycle of drinking, hangovers, morning regret, and guilt.

Despite being successful in other areas of life, it seems difficult to change our drinking habits. In the face of alcohol it’s easy blame ourselves, and believe we are unable to exercise self-control.

In this ground-breaking book, The Alcohol Con is exposed, and unraveled with insight and humour. Drawing on her own experience, and with a background in science and professional coaching, Michaela Weaver paves the way for you to outsmart the alcohol con, break free and move forward to a bright new sober future.

Amazon → https://amzn.to/3f16YRG

 

Introduction

Thirty years after joining the merry-go-round of drinking alcohol, my thumping head, nauseous stomach, and I, finally saw it for what it was: the biggest con trick on the planet. At that point I metaphorically got off the ride, left the fairground, and walked off into a beautiful sunny day. I’m still walking around in that beautiful sunny world, where it’s calm and peaceful, and the war of wants, and shouldn’t haves, and hungover regrets has stopped raging in my head.

I don’t head for the fridge as soon as I get home from work anymore, and don’t curse when I find only a half a bottle left there from the night before. I don’t worry about going out with friends and needing to remember to stop drinking after four drinks, only to have four drinks and forget to remember. I don’t ever wake up at 3am with a dry throat, and racing heart with a feeling of dread as I try to remember what I said and did the night before. I don’t have to deal with my guilt, or feeling stupid because I decided not to have a drink last night, but come wine o’clock my body went into autopilot as my brain decided to change its mind, and I did the very thing I promised myself that I wouldn’t do.

I don’t do any of that any more because I outsmarted the con artist that had held my confidence and trust for all those years. I outsmarted alcohol, and you can too. Alcohol has no control over me, as I now realise it once did. I am in complete control of every drop of alcohol that passes my lips. I consume exactly the amount of alcohol that I want to drink, which is exactly none. 

You can get smart about alcohol, and you can get control over it. But before you can outsmart anything, you need to understand it. In the game of psychological warfare, knowledge is ammunition, and knowledge is power.

But wait a minute.

Surely, if there’s a problem with alcohol, then it’s the people who drink too much of it that have a problem. After all, isn’t the term ‘alcohol abuse’ aimed at the uncontrolled drinker and not the drink itself. 

We all know that it’s alcoholics on park benches drinking meths from bottles in paper bags who have a problem. We know it’s them who need to go to weekly AA meetings and sit in a circle proclaiming their acquiescence to a lifelong disease and affliction that they battle in misery to control because they were born with some dodgy genes. 

We know that we’re different and our kind of drinking belongs in a different world. Ours is a world of grown-up laughs, sophisticated choices, and wine o’clock normality.

We’ve all grown up knowing that drinking alcohol is the golden ticket to adulthood and more alluring than a first kiss. We spent the early years of drinking, proving we could drink like fishes, building up tolerance, and working hard for the badge of being a proper grown up alcohol drinker. 

We learned that drinking is the multi-tasking doer of all things: it relaxes, relieves boredom, gives a whoop of joy, helps get over an argument, deals with our stress, fills our hours, brings us our friends, make social occasions fabulous, helps us throw off our clothes in the bedroom, makes us happy, makes us interesting, and the life and soul of the party.

We know all these things. Or we think we do. So why on earth would we need to outsmart it, when it does so much for us, our family, our friends, and everyone we know?

Because if it really did all those things, and there were no consequences, then it would be awesome, it really would. The problem is, as we all know, that if anything seems too good to be true, then it usually is. And alcohol is no exception. Yet virtually every drinker genuinely believes in a long list of benefits that alcohol brings them. 

Since birth, we’ve been conditioned by society, media, and the people we know and love, to believe that drinking alcohol is not only normal, but expected. It is the only drug on the planet that you have to justify not taking. Because alcohol is a drug, although the fact is not widely advertised: you don’t see advertisements saying, ‘Drink Sauvignon Blanc this Christmas, it’s a highly addictive and poisonous drug.’

In terms of addictive power, alcohol sits beside heroin, cocaine and nicotine. It is second to heroin in the addictive stakes, scoring 2.2/3 where heroin scores 2.5/3. 

In a UK study by David Nutt of Imperial College London in 2010, alcohol was found to be the most harmful drug on the planet based on 16 criteria relating to harm to the individual and harm to others. In the study, alcohol scored 72/100 compared to the second most dangerous drug, heroin, scoring 55/100, and crack cocaine which scored 54/100. Alcohol is not only harmful to us physically, it harms us psychologically, and it harms our families. Alcohol hurts the people we love.

Alcohol may be harmful, but we all know that in small doses it’s good for us. We’ve been told that it’s good for our heart to have a glass of red wine each day. Sadly, as medical knowledge expands, this is another bubble in the alcohol con to burst. The good stuff in red wine is resveratrol, which you can find in strawberries, grapes and blueberries to name a few sources, and these don’t come with increased risk of cancer to the neck, head, breast, colon, oesophagus or liver. 

A study published in The Lancet in 2018 concluded that the level of alcohol consumption per week that minimises health loss is zero. Put another way, this means that for us mere mortals, the safe amount of alcohol to consume is none. The study used 650 data sources, and over 590 studies in reaching its conclusion. Alcohol consumption has now been linked to 60 acute and chronic diseases, and just one glass of wine per day has been linked to a 15% increased risk of breast cancer.

We may know that something is bad for us, but our minds have an amazing ability to convince us that inconvenient facts which stand in the way of us doing what we want to do don’t apply to us. The mild inconvenience of the negatives pale into insignificance compared to the enormous benefits that we’re convinced that we’re getting. 

And then one day something changes. Some crisis occurs that affects us personally, and we decide that we have to do something different. 

Right now, you probably believe that alcohol is an important part of your life. But you’ll also know that supping those glasses of wine or beer each night, or partying hard at the weekend, is causing a problem. Alcohol may be affecting your health, your work, or your relationship, or maybe all three. 

You may be realising that the hangovers are feeling worse, or that you feel tired all day until a drink in the evening miraculously wakes you up. 

Waking up full of remorse and anxiety, with a thumping head, and a questionable or even nonexistent recollection of last night’s events is far from fun, relaxing or stress-free. In fact, it’s diametrically opposite. And vowing never to do it again only to pour a glass of red wine at dinner isn’t good for long term self-esteem, either, as you find yourself in a constant cycle of internal mental battles, over which reaching for a glass always wins. 

The result is that the real you, the conscious-minded part of you that doesn’t want to drink, fails. Always. And I know, because I always failed too. If I’d had a particularly boozy Saturday night with friends and felt hellish the next day, I’d be proud of myself that I didn’t have a glass of wine that evening. The fact that I was still feeling queasy from the night before didn’t enter my head as being the reason for my evening of abstinence.

When I decided to stop drinking for a while, like on a hungover 1^st of January having decided to do a dry month, I’d start off feeling amazingly positive and determined. All my resolve and positive vision of self, drinking green tea every evening, was primed and ready for action. I would spring open the fridge and give the bottle of wine a ‘Ya boo,’ scoff before putting it firmly in the back of the cupboard, with a ‘See you in February,’ smile.

I’d go to the pub and loudly order a diet coke, telling the bar tender that I was doing Dry January. I might as well have stood on the bar, grabbed a microphone, and shouted to the room, ‘Look at me with my diet coke everyone! Look at me controlling alcohol. I’m not drinking Chardonnay or Merlot here today my friends, so I DON’T HAVE AN ALCOHOL PROBLEM.’ Thou doth protest too much.

By around the 20^th of January I was usually bored with Dry January and poured myself a large chilled glass of white wine to celebrate my abstinence. A week later and I had my nose back in the fridge at wine o’clock, waking up on Saturday morning with a remorseful hangover.

For someone who is fundamentally a smart person, none of that made me feel very smart. And that’s the problem, drink makes a fool of everyone, even the most successful and well educated of us. 

What you’re about to find out is that the whole package that is wrapped up in the glass in your hand is the result of a very clever and long drawn out confidence trick. It’s a confidence trick that has drawn you in, like it did me, and millions of others, and one that you have completely trusted. 

All con tricks work because the con artist gains your trust, implicitly. You believe in them, who they say they are, and the benefits that you believe they can bring you. 

The psychological brainwashing of addiction happens in the subconscious mind, and this is the part of your mind that says, ‘Oh go on then,’ when your conscious mind is sitting there with its arms crossed and a large banner with the words, ‘I’m not going to drink today’ emblazoned in bold lettering. This explains why we feel stupid when we’ve gone to such lengths, just to cave in five minutes later.

If you knew for a fact that you had been a victim of a con trick that had trapped you, would you want to get out?

Alcohol is the basis of a confidence trick of pandemic proportions, with millions of people across the world being caught out and being caught in the trap. Alcohol is embedded in every crevice of our society and for many it’s a trusted friend. It has won the confidence of people like you and me who genuinely believe (as I used to) that it adds value to their lives, and that life without it would be deficient. Alcohol is also the cause of inordinate suffering and misery for millions of people who find they can’t live with it and can’t live without it.

Alcohol is the con trick that is fooling the world. Intelligent, successful, strong-minded people are amongst the most common group to fall for the con and give their trust to alcohol. It’s only when you try to get out that the rope tightens, and you realise that you’re trapped. With minds yo-yoing between wanting a drink, and trying to stop having one, or just having less, most drinkers mistakenly blame themselves for being weak, and unable to control alcohol. People don’t realise that they are victims of a con.

Unless you’ve read a library of books on addiction, drugs and alcohol lately, then there’s a ton of stuff about alcohol that you are completely unaware of, just like I was. And you’re a bright person. You’re smart. I am too. I’ve got degrees, I’ve written books, run businesses and I’ve raised kids, but I was drawn in by the alcohol con, just like the millions of smart, intelligent, successful people who are still in the trap.

When people try to get out, the con trick keeps them trapped by adding layer upon layer of false confidences and beliefs. 

People think they can’t live without alcohol, and life would be dull. A few years ago, the very idea of going to a party and not being able to drink would make me feel deprived, even before I got there. 

Recently a friend came to stay, and twice before she arrived, I went to my local shops to get some last-minute supplies. Both times I had ‘buy wine’ on my mental list, because my friend is a drinker. Both times I completely forgot the wine. I ended up texting my partner to ask him to pick up some on the way home from work. A few years ago, I would have gone to the shop to pick up some milk and would have come through the door with two bottles of wine, and completely forgotten the milk.

I’m now free, and it feels great.

People talk about ‘giving up’ alcohol as though there’s something to lose, and I appreciate that right now that’s what you believe. It’s the reason that people are so fearful of facing the problems that alcohol is causing. It’s like the abusive partner who beats someone up only to hug them better. We all know that person is manipulative and can’t be trusted. The alcohol con is cleverer though, because whereas an abusive lover may shower someone with tangible gifts and benefits, there are literally no benefits to taking alcohol, and you’ll get smart to that later in the book.

I use the word ‘take’ in relation to alcohol interchangeably with the word ‘drink’, because drinkers drink to take the drug which is alcohol. Heroin is mostly injected, or smoked, and nicotine is smoked, or vaped. I know that you won’t like to think of it that way: taking alcohol, but that is what it is. If it makes you recoil, or feel aggrieved, that’s okay. You’ll find out later that’s just your subconscious mind, and it’s your subconscious mind that is the real victim of the confidence trick.

Alcohol, and everything that it embodies, is the con artist who has lied and continues to lie to you. Alcohol is the Pied Piper of Hamlyn who plays happy music full of promises of joy. And just like the piper it lures the followers, reeling them in, slowly, subtly, until the point when it’s got them, and it’s too late. It’s not too late for you though, and if you are prepared to get smart with alcohol then you’ll be in full control very soon. 

Alcohol traps educated, capable, strong-minded people. The only abuser in the alcohol equation is the alcohol itself. It is not us who abuse alcohol, it is alcohol that abuses us. 

Alcohol is the loan shark who lends you $20, then demands $30 in repayment, who lends you the $30 to then demand a repayment of $40. It is the loan shark who gives with one hand and takes with both, taking you ever further in debt while you try to get back to being where you were before you started. 

It’s time to delve into the confidence and trust that we have put in alcohol and to unravel the greatest confidence trick of our time.

 

As a TEDx speaker, author, masters qualified coach, science graduate and professional woman, you would think that with all that I’d know better than to find myself addicted to alcohol and stuck in a ‘wine o’clock, weekend binge’ drinking cycle.

But I have since learned how and why we become addicted to alcohol, and how to change that.

I now help women to learn about alcohol, revolutionize their relationships with alcohol and skip, run and jump into a thriving life without alcohol dragging them down.

You’re not weak, incapable or out of control, but maybe like millions of others you were lured in and fell for a highly addictive and insidious drug.

Website: www.thealcoholcoach.com

Facebook: facebook.com/thealcoholcoach