Synopsis

Alien swarms.
Ceaseless wars.
Hive worlds, pirates and conflict without end.

For hundreds of years, the Conviction has kept these threats at bay. So why now are its forces suddenly disappearing?

Adroa is a bleak, backwater world on the edge of known civilisation, with every day a struggle to survive for Ellie and her two siblings. Yet when a heavily armed Conviction soldier falls from the sky and into her lap, she must face dangers even greater than the ravenous Rike swarms that threaten to consume her and her entire colony.

Something is stirring in the dark between galaxies as the greatest military power humanity has ever known empties its garrisons and leaves its worlds undefended. Can a simple melon farmer rebuild her shattered home in peace, or will Ellie and her family be dragged into a galactic conflict that could determine the future of the Conviction itself?

In this romantic, action-packed space opera of life and love, C.J. Watson weaves a captivating story of upheaval in a cold and uncaring universe – and the tenacity of those fighting to survive another day.

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Excerpt

Four: High Score

Ellie saw the captain was indeed out as they crested the top of the ramp to the spaceport’s main platform. It was next to impossible to miss him and his distinctly booming voice as it carried across the distance.

Ellie could see he’d already dealt with many of the larger farmers as large stacks of shipping containers were being loaded up the ship’s ramp by their respective mechs.

It was surprising, however, to see a number of the ship’s heavy loaders carrying many separate payloads out of the cargo hold. Giant construction haulers floated by above them with a throaty rumble. Of course, Ellie expected some offloading; it was the one delivery of the year that brought people whatever they may need from off-world. But as quadrupedal loaders stomped past the two of them and their little cart, Ellie could make out construction supplies, large metal and plasteel plates, as well as bags of instant cement stacked high atop one another. Even some large panels of framed glass moved past, reflecting the world in their mirrored finish.

Ellie tilted her head in curiosity. Almost all the buildings outside the area immediately surrounding the spaceport were earthen or wooden or else small, prefabricated dwellings like her own, a necessity of self-reliance on the tiny fringe colony. Metal for building material was used almost exclusively for swarm bunkers.

Not that it did the Sayers much good.

Ellie screwed her eyes shut, turning her head away from the procession and batting away the thoughts. Emotions welled deep down as she’d yet to fully process her grief over the loss of the Sayers and the multitude of emotions between which she’d been flung during her ordeal with Hunter.

But right now, Ellie couldn’t afford to let it affect her mood. She slammed the window shut on the emotional storm clouds gathering in the distance, simultaneously trying to harden her heart and soften her smile. Soon, she would have all the time she needed to process her emotions. But now was the critical moment that would determine what she would be able to feed Jonathan and Alayna for the next year.

Ellie nudged the cart and Jonathan along, pulling to one side and joining the short line of smaller farms shuffling forward bit by bit. Even at the back of the line, only a handful of people stood ahead of them.

“Are you okay with taking the cart the rest of the way?” Ellie turned to ask Jonathan softly.

Jonathan simply nodded, taking the full weight of the yoke so Ellie could slip under. Facing her back to the line ahead, Ellie tugged on the bottom of her skirt and straightened all the frills along its edges. She took care to pull up and position her bosom as well as she could, letting her natural curves accentuate the fullness of her chest and the graceful silhouette of her neck.

Reaching up, she quickly retied her ponytail, ensuring it looked fresh and making sure her fringe was swooping down just low enough to cover one eye perfectly.

“How do I look?” Ellie asked.

“You look… You look good,” Jonathan replied.

Ellie smiled at him, running her fingers through his hair one last time to straighten it neatly.

Ellie took position next to him, doing her best to stand easy and look casual. They shuffled along as the line progressed. Ellie did her best to discreetly listen to the deals the other farmers were cutting with the captain, specifically the prices they were negotiating for their goods so she’d have an idea of the window in which she had to manoeuvre. The captain held a monopoly over their prices as their primary link to space, excluding the occasional prospector or explorer. They were prices that could be decided on his whim and were affected by his mood. What they were able to negotiate the year before was no guarantee of what they’d get today.

But try as she might, their voices naturally dropped to an almost conspiratorial level when it came to actual negotiation. Ellie could make out the sounds, but not the words. The distance, noise of the heavy machinery and general bustle of the area proved too much for her ears to overcome.

“Captain, please. The colour is only due to nitrates in the soil. Trees can’t be rotated like other crops; the fruits more than make up for it in their extra size and juiciness from the rains!”

Ellie turned her head slightly, careful not to look over-interested in the scene playing out. The farmer ahead of her had raised his volume, a distinct note of desperation and pleading entering his voice.

A cold stone dropped in Ellie’s stomach. The farmer had just made a grave mistake, tipping his hand and letting his desperation show. No one liked a charity case except for the captain, and even then, only for all the wrong reasons.

“Ah, Mr Thomas, how many years have we been trading? I fully understand the difficulty of farming, and if it were up to me, I’d be paying you all twice the asking price currently on the market,” the captain replied, his words sympathetic, but his smile predatory. His tone indicated he knew that everyone else was aware of what he was doing. And yet he’d put on the theatrics anyway because there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“But the only ones I can sell it to are the colonies that don’t grow enough for themselves. Why, the cost of fuel alone to fly your produce all the way to Etheria, or even Newgate Station, let alone the cost of crew and maintenance… Imagine if I were to go to all of that expense, only for half the stock to rot on the shelves for not being ‘pink’ enough,” he said, holding up one of Mr Thomas’s Pink Lady apples that was almost entirely a pale yellow.

“Why, such a thing would ruin me. And then how would you or the rest of the colony feel when I have to close up shop and can’t make a run next year, or any other year, for that matter?”

“But…” Mr Thomas began, indignant but unsure of his footing.

“Now listen here. I can offer you twelve dols per tonne,” he continued as if Mr Thomas hadn’t said anything at all. “That seems more than fair; since each apple is, as you said, so much larger than last year’s, it should be much easier to hit that same weight with fewer fruits. Oh, and no need to thank me directly. Just keep it to yourself that I cut you such a good deal, yes?” he finished in that slimy, coy tone.

Ellie tried not to baulk, very aware she would already be in the captain’s peripheral vision. Twelve dols a tonne was nothing short of thinly veiled robbery.

Mr Thomas seethed, clearly backed into a corner.

“You’re a wretched bastard, Captain,” he said in earnest, holding out his hand.

The captain smiled.

“Why thank you. I take that as a compliment. Wouldn’t make it out here to buy up your slop if I wasn’t,” he said, nodding once.

Two blue circles appeared over the backs of their hands to confirm the transaction. The light had barely dissipated before Mr Thomas snatched his hand away and stormed off, a dark cloud hanging over his expression.

Grabbing his coat with both hands, the captain pulled down to straighten it before turning to acknowledge Ellie.

Captain Slackvore was a complete dichotomy of character. He wore a long, brown trench coat, tattered in places and well-weathered. Its creases ran deep, and its surface was cracked from years of use. Yet underneath, he wore vibrant, tailored pants and a complexly embroidered vest, the material a shimmering purple interlaced with intricate floral patterns, and its shades perpetually shifting from slightly lighter to slightly darker than the rest of the outfit. Equally ornate boots with black velvet trim worked together with a dark, wide-brimmed Stetson to vertically frame the odd man.

A slimy smile that always made Ellie feel as if she was on the wrong end of a bad deal she couldn’t understand hung below a pair of cunning, calculating eyes. His exact age was unclear. Older than Ellie for sure, but still far younger than one would expect of a man running a pirate crew. Then again, the man exuded a fierceness not difficult to pick up on.

“Melon girl!” he bellowed in welcome, a deep, booming voice scratched raw by the various questionable spirits Ellie knew the crew brewed, and occasionally sold.

“Captain Slackvore! It is so good to see you!” Ellie responded with a bright smile and a light, excited tone. Stepping forward, she threw her arms around his shoulders and pressed her entire body tightly against his, pretending the scene with Mr Thomas hadn’t just happened.”

Review

Sometimes, I like to try a genre or book that is a little out of my normal reading sphere. This novel is a cross between science fiction, fantasy, romance, and maybe even a little dystopian, and it was a delight to read.

Ellie is a tough young woman. She is only 21 but is taking care of her two siblings and trying to make it as a melon farmer on a planet that doesn’t have a lot going for it. One of her siblings, Alyana, is a bit of a hothead. So, the nickname she is tagged with from Jake (more on him in a moment) is more than appropriate. He calls her Spitfire. Jake is a savior, but does he have an ulterior motive? He has combat skills and is able to help Ellie and her family in some difficult situations. I like how he was raised to be kind and see the goodness in people. It does seem to contradict his career path, which is never fully defined, and we are left to guess what he did before coming to this planet.

I was taken away to a world that has little hope for anyone. The inhabitants are attacked by something called a Rike. We are never really told what a Rike is or why it attacks the people of the planet. The best description is some sort of beast that bleeds purple. We do know that everyone does what they can to protect themselves from this creature, including adding turrets to their homes to fight them off.

I admired Ellie for doing what she needed to do for her family to survive. It isn’t easy accepting Jake’s help, and she is suspicious about his true intentions. I can’t blame her; why should she trust him? But I think she is going to be surprised at how easily he will fit into her life if she will allow him to.

The author does a good job of building this world and bringing it to life, from the dark and gritty characters to those with compassion. While there are many unanswered questions, this is the first book in a series, and I have a feeling all of those will be answered soon.

There is an epilogue that gives a hint as to what Jake might be running from in his life. Only future books will tell.

We give this book a solid 4 paws up.

About the Author

When he’s not running various I.T. departments for his day job, he can be found spoiling both his partner and their many, many cats somewhere around the desolate hellscape of Sydney, Australia.

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Synopsis

Nature speaks to us in many ways. In this collection of haiku written over the course of one year, Jim Bates has chosen the 5-7-5 syllable format to share his feelings for the natural world. He hopes you enjoy them.

After the snowstorm

Winter’s soft gentle beauty

Snow on evergreens.

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Praise

“Award winning author Jim Bates writes entire stories inside the parameters of a Haiku. Each word invokes imagery so impactful that one forgets it is wrapped in such few words. From the simplicity of a haiku comes boundless emotion and each one is to be savored.” – Acclaimed writer Sharon Frame Gay is the author of “Song of the Highway” and “Nomad Diner.”

“Jim Bates brings a clear view of nature in his tiny gems–a beautiful collection of the Haiku art form.” – Shelia Henry is an accomplished poet whose work appears in many anthologies and online publications.

Jim packs beautiful imagery into Haiku and within them manages to deliver to us deep insightful stories. This is a book you will want to read over and over. Charming! – Ger White is an Irish poet and storyteller. “Newspapers on the Floor” is her first collection of poems.

Jim Bates’ new book “Haiku Seasons” is filled with beautiful shortform poems that are meditative in their quality. Each poem evokes a visual image of seasonal wonder. It is a perfect book to relax you at the end of a long day. – Ann Christine Tabaka, is a poet & author whose most recent collection of poems is “Learning To Climb the Mountain.”

Excerpt

Haiku Seasons is a wonderful compilation of heartfelt, thoughtful, and soulful haiku.

Soft snowflakes drifting

Brushing eyelids so gently

Like a lover’s touch.

The book is divided into four seasons, and the haiku within each season reflects images, with words evoking snowflakes, bluebirds in the spring, geese winging south in the autumn, or childhood memories of a summer cabin.

By the forest path

Babbling woodland stream flowing

Music to dream by.

Some are joyful. Some are whimsical, while others reflect the quiet hours of a winter’s day before a soothing fire.

Northwest wind blowing

Cold gray winter day chills deep

Fireplace burns so warm.

Each haiku reflects the deep and sensitive soul of award-winning author Jim Bates, who delivers these special poems with a fine hand and a depth of spirit. I highly recommend this book.

Hot day on a dock

Feet dangling in cool water

Sunfish nibbling toes.

About the Author

Jim’s stories and poems have appeared in nearly five hundred online and print publications. His collection of short stories, Resilience, is published by Bridge House Publishing. Short Stuff, a collection of flash fiction and drabbles is published by Chapeltown Books. Periodic Stories, Periodic Stories Volume Two, Periodic Stories Volume Three – A Novel, and Periodic Stories Volume Four are published by Impspired. Dreamers, a collection of short stories, is published by Clarendon House Publishing. Something Better, a dystopian adventure novella, and the novel, The Alien of Orchard Lake, are published by Dark Myth Publications. In the fall of 2022, his collection entitled Holiday Stories was published by Impspired as was his collection of poetry, Haiku Seasons. In February 2023, Periodic Stories Volume IV was published, as was his collection of poems, The Alchemy of Then, both by Impspired. In June 2023, a collection of flash fiction, Dancing With Butterflies, was published by Impspired.In July 2023, his YA novella The Battle of Marvel Wood was published by Impspired. His short story “Aliens” was nominated by The Zodiac Press for the 2020 Pushcart Prize. His story “The Maple Leaf” was voted 2021 Story of the Year for Spillwords. He was voted December 2022 Author of the Month for Spillwords. He also reads his stories for Talking Stories Radio and for Jim’s Storytime on his website. He lives in a small town west of Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Website

Synopsis

If the fate of unrequited love survives fifty-one years, nine months, and four days in Gabriel García Márquez’s Love in the Time of Cholera, it leads the way for HER: The Flame Tree, a spare, remorseless love triptych that sweeps through the rich panorama of two generations of colonial and post-colonial Vietnam. The hopeless love of a young eunuch for a high-ranking concubine is one of this novel’s three stories that illuminate the oriental mystery of Vietnam, as epic as it is persevering,

Despite a rich trove of documentary films, Western readers know little of the spiritual face of Vietnam. Framed between 1915 and 1993, HER: The Flame Tree begins in Huế, the former imperial capital Vietnam. It is in the Purple Forbidden City, that Canh, the young eunuch, fulfills his vow to be near the girl of his dreams, a villager-turned imperial concubine.

The novel begins with an expatriate Vietnamese man living in the United States who journeys back to Vietnam to search for the adopted daughter of a centenarian eunuch of the Imperial Court of Huế to find out who she really is. His world takes on a new meaning after he becames a part of her life.

Phượng. Her name is the magnificent flame tree’s flowers that grace the ancient capital of Huế. Her father, mentor of Canh the young eunuch, was a hundred-year-old grand eunuch of the Imperial Court, who had adopted and raised her since she was a baby. Their peaceful world suddenly changed when one day, sometime in the early years of the Vietnam war, Jonathan Edward came into their lives. On his quest to search for his just deceased lover’s mysterious birth, there he met Phượng, an exquisite beauty.

Through the eye of her father, history is retold. Just before the fall of the French Indochina during the last dynasty of Vietnam, a young eunuch hopelessly fell in love with a high-ranking concubine. Once the eunuch had secured the concubine’s trust, it became a fatal attraction. The eunuch died. The concubine, still a virgin, lost her mind. Her father said she was possessed by the young eunuch’s spirit who had been madly in love with her.

HER: The Flame Tree does not have the flavor of historical fiction, plot-heavy and sexually graphic. Rather, it is atmospheric and impressionistic, in the style of Snow Falling on Cedars. The magnificent poinciana flowers, which grace the ancient capital of Huế, symbolize farewell in Vietnamese adolescent romance. Its symbolic image befits Phượng for her magnanimous nature and grace, and the scarlet blossoming flowers when Jonathan Edward bids Phượng farewell is beauty without sadness—Wait and Hope.

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Praise

“In this almost folkloric saga of a royal eunuch, his adopted daughter and the tragedies and triumphs of love in their lives from the days of the emperor’s court to the war with America, Khanh Ha takes us deeply into the heart of traditional Vietnam in a tale told in such lushly poetic, descriptive language that it immerses the reader deeply and sensually into the gorgeousness of the land, the texture and taste of food, and the complex humanity of the characters. Her: The Flame Tree is an intricately woven, seductively fascinating story of family, sacrifice, loyalty and redeeming love in the face of heart-breaking loss that breathtakingly weaves the lives of individuals we come to know and care about into the saga of Vietnamese—and American—history.” —Wayne Karlin, author of Memorial Days

“Ha evokes a visceral image of Vietnam . . .  A vivid study of a country’s fraught history and how its people struggled to make sense of it.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Her: The Flame Tree is a beautiful novel, rich with evocations of natural setting in coastal Vietnam; remembered action going back more than a hundred years; and characters both extraordinary and poignantly ordinary, developed by layer upon layer of stories.”—Elizabeth Harris, judge and author of Mayhem: Three Lives of a Woman

“Early in Khanh Ha’s latest novel Her: The Flame Tree, the author describes a book made of delicate leaves of gold. Such a volume would be ideal to record this shimmering and often tender tale of love, loss, and memory.” —Steve Evans, author of The Marriage of True Minds

Excerpt

Miss Phượng met the last concubine of Emperor Tự-Ðức when the woman was very old, in the final year of her long life. When the emperor died in 1883, she was only fifteen. She told Miss Phượng she was one hundred and twenty-three now. Small, birdlike, white hair parted in the middle, braided in two small plaits on the sides of her head.

She took Miss Phượng by the hand and led her into the cottage, which sat behind a bamboo hedge in the back of the mausoleum. She served tea from a tiny blue-flowered pot the size of her hand. The nougats she offered were made of egg whites and brown sugar and chopped nuts. Brittle, they melted quickly in the mouth.

“I used to make them for the emperor,” she told Miss Phượng. “A long time ago.” Then regarding Miss Phượng, she nodded, “See the banyan out there?”

It dwarfed the cottage with its shade, like an immense pavilion. Miss Phượng traced its tortuous roots to the steps of the concubine’s home.

“It was a little tree when I came,” the old woman muttered.

“Yes,” Miss Phượng said, “trees outlive us. My father had a magnolia planted outside the Trinh Minh Palace during his service as the grand eunuch for the imperial family. He would be three years older than you, Madam, if he still lived.”

In the deceased emperor’s personal room the old concubine sat down on the carved rosewood bed. Hunched between the parted panels of the yellow mosquito net, she sat amidst her husband’s belongings—the bed, its embroidered mat, the porcelain pillow, the tea, the rice liquor, the areca-nuts and betel leaves and a tiny pot of lime. They were here for him when he returned in spirit.

For one hundred and eight years she replenished them every morning so that when he arrived nothing was missing, nothing was stale. He could read his favorite books. He could write, as was his passion, in his annals, each page of which was a thin leaf of gold. He would find again his gold swords, jade shrubs, his chess men in green and white jade, chopsticks made of kim-giao white wood that turned black against any sort of poison. They were arranged there under glass.

Miss Phượng took the old woman’s hand and led her out of her haunt, passing candle-lit nooks and corners and the eternally mildewed air of the sunless chambers.

©Khanh Ha

Guest Review by Nora

A spellbinding novel from one of the greatest authors of our time– ‘Her: The Flame Tree,’ by Khanh Ha, is a one-of-a-kind story that allows the reader to travel deep into the heart of Vietnamese history.

Minh is a Vietnamese man now living in America who returns to his home country to seek out one very special woman and learn her story. Phuong is the adopted daughter of a former court eunuch who spent much of her life caring for her elderly father. Of both Vietnamese and French descent, Phuong knows nothing of her birth parents and has only ever known the love of her adopted father, Canh. But Canh has a storied history as well, and the novel unveils these three different timelines as it goes along.

From the halls of the palace of the Imperial Emperor to the packed streets of the marketplace, ‘Her: he Flame Tree’ takes you on a journey that you won’t soon forget.

I’m a huge fan of Khanh Ha’s writing and have enjoyed several of his books in the past, which is why I had a feeling I would enjoy this one. As an author, he has an undeniable way of crafting an atmosphere that makes the reader feel immersed in the story.

Between that creative blend of Vietnamese and American culture that Ha is so great at illustrating, and the strength and power of the characters, this book was a strong five star read for me!

I can’t imagine a better way to spend a winter evening than enjoying a book by this stellar author. This, being one of my first books of the year, was such a treat for both the heart and mind. I simply cannot wait to read whatever Ha comes out with next! I’m sure it will be extraordinary!

About the Author

Award winning author Khanh Ha is a nine-time Pushcart nominee, finalist for The Ohio State University Fiction Collection Prize, Mary McCarthy Prize, Many Voices Project, Prairie Schooner Book Prize, The University of New Orleans Press Lab Prize, Prize Americana, and The Santa Fe Writers Project. He is the recipient of the Sand Hills Prize for Best Fiction, The Robert Watson Literary Prize in Fiction, The Orison Anthology Award for Fiction, The James Knudsen Prize for Fiction, The C&R Press Fiction Prize, The EastOver Fiction Prize, The Blackwater Press Fiction Prize, The Gival Press Novel Award, and The Red Hen Press Fiction Award.

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Giveaway

This giveaway is for 3 print or ebook copies and is open to the U.S. only.

This giveaway ends on Feb 22, 2024, at midnight pacific time.

Entries are accepted via Rafflecopter only.

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Synopsis

For Quinn and his young family, life in 2220 in the aftermath of global warming was a depressing dead-end existence with no future past the mandatory forty-year life span at which point you were unceremoniously put to death and turned into compost. But only if you lived that long. One day Quinn makes a fateful decision with a disastrous effect, and it forces him and his wife and son along with a friend to flee the confines of The City in search of a different life. Something better. But first, they need to elude the World Order Security Police who are dispatched to track them down with orders to shoot to kill. Will they make it? Read their inspiring story and find out.

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Excerpt

When they were seated on the Carrier, Matt said to his dad, politely, “Thank you, Daddy, for taking me. I had a really fun time.”

Quinn smiled. He loved his son, and he was glad he’d been able to spend time with him. Once a week wasn’t often enough. “I had fun, too.”

The first stop was the building where children of Matt’s age were kept. Quinn wanted to hug him but knew the World Order frowned upon signs of affection. After a brief hesitation, he thought, what the hell, why not? and grabbed Matt in a big bear hug, knowing the surveillance cameras would catch him and punish him accordingly, taking a day off his LifeLine. Too bad, he thought, holding his son tighter. Matt hugged him back. He felt his son’s sweet breath on his neck and it made him smile. The hug was worth it.

Finally, Matt squirmed away, giggling. “I’ll see you next week, Daddy.”

“Okay, son. The History Center, right?”

“Right.”

“See you then. Bye, bye.” Quinn waved.

The Transport Carrier then headed for the concrete building where Quinn and his wife lived. He watched the landscape passing by outside his window, featureless and grey with dust and ash everywhere. Relentlessly depressing. His mind drifted back to the exhibit he and Matt had seen. He loved the colors: the green trees and the blue pond. The red cardinal. Not the grey decay he and his wife and son lived in every day. It’d be a week before he’d see Matt again and he was already looking forward to it. In fact, at that moment he made a fateful decision. When they got together next time, he was going to hold his son again. Tight. No matter what the consequences. LifeLine be damned. It’d be worth it.

About the Author

Jim’s stories and poems have appeared in nearly five hundred online and print publications. His collection of short stories, Resilience, is published by Bridge House Publishing. Short Stuff, a collection of flash fiction and drabbles is published by Chapeltown Books. Periodic Stories, Periodic Stories Volume Two, Periodic Stories Volume Three – A Novel, and Periodic Stories Volume Four are published by Impspired. Dreamers, a collection of short stories, is published by Clarendon House Publishing. Something Better, a dystopian adventure novella, and the novel, The Alien of Orchard Lake, are published by Dark Myth Publications. In the fall of 2022, his collection entitled Holiday Stories was published by Impspired as was his collection of poetry, Haiku Seasons. In February 2023, Periodic Stories Volume IV was published, as was his collection of poems, The Alchemy of Then, both by Impspired. In June 2023, a collection of flash fiction, Dancing With Butterflies, was published by Impspired.In July 2023, his YA novella The Battle of Marvel Wood was published by Impspired. His short story “Aliens” was nominated by The Zodiac Press for the 2020 Pushcart Prize. His story “The Maple Leaf” was voted 2021 Story of the Year for Spillwords. He was voted December 2022 Author of the Month for Spillwords. He also reads his stories for Talking Stories Radio and for Jim’s Storytime on his website. He lives in a small town west of Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Website

Synopsis

Beneath the weight of four long years in confinement, a story of liberation unfolds, igniting a whirlwind of love, fear, and even hope.

When Ed and Stacey go to Las Vegas to visit their friend Pepper, they realize his dementia has gotten worse. They decide to take him with them on their road trip to see old friends near Mt Konocti in northern California. At the reunion, he meets Sandy Martin, and they begin a new love relationship. He calls in to a local radio talk show and the audience likes him so much that he becomes a regular part of the show. But when a local psychopath hears Pepper on the show and decides he wants Pepper to be his friend, things take a very dark turn…

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Praise

“This book was both suspenseful and beautiful at the same time. All in all, an excellent read.” – Book Addict Book Blog

“The author uses richly crafted characters to bring the story to life, weaving past memories into the present. Keeping Pepper highlights the importance of living each day to the fullest, even if it means taking risks.” – Novels Alive

“Thoroughly enjoyed the twists and turns as the story evolved. Certainly didn’t see some of them coming. The poignancy of old friends, new paths and one more good time was woven into a very engaging story.” – Deb Zak (Amazon Reviewer)

“This was such a fresh and engaging story about the power of taking risks no matter your age or stage of life. It centers on a group of longtime friends of former ad executive Michael Pepper. Pepper’s story is romantic and, at times, quite suspenseful. I found his energy and spirit of adventure inspiring, and it made for a very enjoyable book.” – KKW (Amazon Reviewer)

Excerpt

Konocti

In the end, twelve of them decided to make the trip. Several others begged off, leery of the trails and opting to take the day at the farm. They took three vehicles. A car and two SUV’s, packed with lots of food, drinks and gear in addition to the people. It took them about twenty minutes to get to the bottom of the mountain. The road goes through the village of Kelseyville, down some residential blocks, then the road slopes up through a series of farm fields and orchards, followed by open rocky hillsides. As they rose up on the hill, the tableau took shape – Clear Lake at the foot of the mountain with towns and suburban blocks in the distance. Going higher, the view got bigger, and the lake got both deeper in color, and silvery where the sun reflected off it. They all stopped talking and watched the view changing and developing with some awe as they drove. As they got higher, they disappeared into a cloud bank, then the road popped out of the cloud, and they were in a thick stand of Maul Oaks in a notch between two peaks rising on either side of them. The oaks were tall, 40 to 60 feet, with big heavy curving branches that looked like trees out of an old Disney cartoon. They drove a bit further through the woods until they reached a clearing with parking spaces near a trailhead. They got out, still surrounded by trees.

“That didn’t take long,” Stacey said, stretching her legs.

Richie was organizing their stuff. He had divided them up into small packs so people could carry them easily on their backs. By giving them to a few people, he figured nobody would have too much weight to carry.

“They call it Mt. Konocti, but it’s really not much of a mountain,” he said. “Just about 2,200 feet above the lake.”

“Looked a lot higher coming up,” Hubert said. “Beautiful views on the way up. Can’t wait to see them from here.”

“Yeah, it gets better from here on.” Richie said. He turned to speak to the group. “Everybody ready? Everything good? Anyone need to pee or anything before we get started?” Nobody said anything. “Anybody wanting to take a nap yet?” He laughed, as did a few in the group.

“A nap?” Pepper asked Ed.

“It’s a joke, Pepper.”

“Ah.”

Pepper was standing with Ed, Stacey, Sandy, and Franny. They had decided to stay together as a group on the hike. They looked like an aging tribe in plaids and jeans, shaggy hair and caps in the cool morning. Bits of fog lingered and drifted through the trees around them, cooling the air and filtering the sun.

“OK, well then let’s get started,” Richie said to them all, turning to walk. “The trail-head is over here.” And they were off. They hit the trailhead and followed the path into the trees. After a few minutes, Richie started talking to them about where they were.

“This is what they call the Black Forest because it’s a very dense wood of Douglas Fir and Maul Oaks. It’s a bit of a mystery, since it’s located on the north face of the mountain where it never gets direct sunlight. Nobody really understands how it got started here or why it grows just here.”

“Kind of spooky in here actually,” Sandy said to Pepper, sliding her arm around his. Pepper thought that was nice, but he wondered if she was thinking he needed propping up. He decided not to worry about it.

“Yes,” he agreed with her. “Keep your eyes open for witches.”

Richie kept going. “Truth is Mount Kon is really pretty exceptional. It’s not so big, as I said before, but it is a special place – both the mountain and the lake. It’s an old volcano. Part of what they call the Clear Lake Volcanic Field. It has been quite active in its history. They say it last erupted around 10,000 years ago, which is pretty recently.”

He stopped to help Cyn and Hubert over some rocks.

“I guess it was a fairly active volcano over the millennia, and through that time it created lots of caves and natural tunnels – old volcanic vents – into the interior of the mountain. Indians used to live here – lots of them. This was a large settlement of native Americans all around the lake. Mostly the Pomo tribe. They say thousands lived in the area in the 1800’s before white men came and started killing them off.”

“God Bless America,” Eddie said.

“But the Pomo explored the area more than anyone since. Their stories about the mountain told about a huge open cavern in the center of the mountain. Probably this would have been the central magma chamber from when the mountain was an active volcano. They said their men used to crawl through the tunnels until they came to the edge of the openings, then they would drop things into the cavern to see how far they fell. Often, they never heard them land. Geologists mostly tend to believe these stories. They say this could be the tallest cavern in North America. But the soil is very unstable and many of the vent tunnels have collapsed. So, it is dangerous to explore – nobody has ever been able to find the central cavern, if it still exists. But one thing they do know about Konocti – the mountain breathes. All the vents around the sides, and the open cavern in the center creates wind drafts and thermal currents. The changing pressures and different temperatures create its own air system. They say when the weather is changing on the outside and it gets windy, that’s when you can hear it the most, kind of whistling or wheezing. Feel it too, since the air on the inside is a constant temperature it feels either warmer or cooler than the air outside. So you get little blasts of the mountain’s breath walking around.”

He stopped and walked with them for a bit. Walking and talking got him out of breath.

“Lots of people have reported strange breezes blowing right out of holes in the side of the mountain. Sometimes they smell like old decaying soil, sometimes people say they blow warm wet air. It breathes. In storms, especially. And lots of people report finding openings into the side. Sometimes big enough to call caves. Other times just holes. This mountain — it seems to have its own life, kind of. It’s unpredictable and kind of spiritual. One of the reasons I wanted to bring you all up here, just to see it and feel it. The Pomo felt it. This was a sacred place to them. They gave it the name Konocti which combined their two words for “mountain” and “woman.”

“Wow,” Sandy said. “You know, Richie – as long as I’ve lived in San Francisco, I never heard any of that before, and we’re so close. I’ve heard of Clear Lake, but never heard much about it. Never seemed to be anything that special.”

About the Author

Scott Brody works in broadcasting and ad sales in Southern California. He’s married with a daughter, two sons, and two grandchildren. He also wrote The Org, which is available on Amazon.

Giveaway

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Synopsis

After his mother’s death, seventeen-year-old Jubilee Walker asks to join a scientific expedition led by Major John Wesley Powell, a family friend. Powell initially refuses, but Jubil’s persistence and resourcefulness eventually win him a place on Powell’s crew. However, Jubil’s plans for a life of adventure are complicated by his deepening feelings for his best friend, Nelly Boswell, who is reluctant to spend her life with a man who insists on such a dangerous lifestyle. How will Jubil navigate the hardships and lawlessness of the American West? And will he be forced to choose between a life of adventure and the girl he loves?

Jubil’s story draws on the real-life adventures of naturalist, college professor, and one-armed Civil War veteran Major John Wesley Powell during his Colorado River Exploring Expeditions. Powell became the first explorer to summit Longs Peak in the Colorado Rockies and navigate the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, fixing his place in history as one of America’s great explorers.

Amazon

Win a copy on Goodreads (ends January 18th) 

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

In late February, while winter still had a grip on the prairie, Jubilee Walker’s mother fell ill. She was still able to suffer through her work around the farm, but Jubil lay in bed listening to the sound of her cough, staring at the rafters above his loft. In spite of having spent the day cleaning out the barn and the livestock pens, he was not sleepy. In a few hours he would be at it again, splitting and stacking firewood—a never-ending chore. It was not the hard work of farming that weighed on Jubil’s soul but the monotony of it, and constantly being at the mercy of the weather. But then again, unpredictable weather was the only thing that broke the monotony of the chores that went on every day of the year, year after year.

He opened the door to his imagination and allowed it to roam as freely as his saddle horse, Star, turned out to graze without halter or bridle. One of these days, he was going to saddle up Star, taking nothing more than his rifle, a bedroll, and whatever he could pack in his saddlebags and ride west toward whatever adventures lay in his path. Following only his instincts, he would see as much of the world as he could before settling in any one place. How he would earn his daily bread was unclear, but he would hunt, fish, and live by his wits—and take a job now and then to earn a little travel money. That method had worked fine for his uncle Pete for many years until duty called him to the farm and then to war. Jubil’s path would become clearer once he was on it.

His mother coughed again, and his daydreams snagged on reality. He couldn’t imagine telling her that he was leaving her to run the farm on her own so he could ride carefree across the country in search of adventure. He would not lie here pining for a life that drew him away from his responsibility to her and to the memory of his father.

The other complication in this imagined life was Nelly Boswell. He had never spoken of his changing feelings for her and was unsure whether he ever would, but even if she didn’t feel the same, he was not anxious to live his life alone. It was unclear how he might be a husband to Nelly—or anyone else—and a father to their children while living a life of unfettered freedom and adventure.

He rubbed his eyes and told himself, Stop these foolish daydreams. His life was on this farm. If he married, his wife would come to live there with him and his mother, and that was that. He reached for the dime novel atop the stack sitting next to his bed, thinking it might help him sleep, but he had read it, and all of them, more than once. He tossed the book aside and blew out the lantern.

About the Author

TIM PIPER: Tim Piper is retired from a long career in Information Technology and has been a lifelong hobbyist musician. In his earlier days, he was an avid hiker and backcountry camper, but his adventures these days are less strenuous and more comfortable. He lives in Bloomington, Illinois, with his cat, Maggie, who is no help with his writing but is a stellar companion. He began his education at Illinois State University as an English major, but life circumstances put him on a more pragmatic path, and he graduated with a BS in Business Admin, a degree he finds appropriately named.

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Synopsis

Two men. One wrong choice.

Tempia Wade’s life had jumped the rails.

One fateful night, she believed a stranger’s lie rather than the assurance of a trusted friend. For her lapse in judgment, she paid an agonizing price.

Her now-bankrupt life featured shattered dreams, ruined friendships, and the loss of a promising relationship. Now, two years later, the twenty-three-year-old prayed for a second chance with the man she had fallen for at first sight.

Would Cory Sanders finally overlook her egregious mistake in accepting a next-day date and liaison with another man? Or would she have to truly accept life without him?

Amazon

Excerpt

After installing HVAC systems at a new apartment complex, twenty-eight-year-old Cory Sanders should’ve headed home, eaten a sandwich, and stretched his five-foot-eleven-inch frame onto his king-sized bed. But today he sought diversions at a friend’s pool hall. The short trek across the parking lot led him inside a large yet cozy space teeming with some of his favorite folks. As his eyes adjusted to dim lighting, he stepped up to the counter of the juice and coffee bar.

Glancing at Cory, a middle-aged woman, brown eyes alert, paused her conversation with a customer. “Wait till I tell Dan who stopped by on a late Friday afternoon,” she said to Cory. “Of course, neither he nor our sons will believe me.”

Miss Laura’s husband, Dan, had been Cory’s father’s best friend since their HVAC training program days. He and his youngest son worked for Cory’s father’s heating and cooling business, while his wife helped their oldest son, Scott, run his pool hall.

“Keep our secret, Miss Laura, or someone will demand I show up more often.”

She winked as she laughed. “If anyone asks me, I’ll say you were just winding down from a tough workday.”

Cory chuckled. “Sounds like the perfect plan,” he said. “One pomegranate slush, please. And Miss Laura, let your son know adding slushes to the juice menu was an excellent idea. If he asks, tell him to add grilled cheese, hamburgers, and hot sausage sandwiches.”

“More approval will swell his head. Thank God, he won’t inquire.”

“I bet you he’d consider those suggestions if he did.”

“Serving food ain’t happening on my watch. This mama has enough tasks without piling on more. We’ll hold off on a food menu until Scott quits his day job.”

As Cory left the counter, Miss Laura snuck in, “See you next Friday.”

While sipping his slush, Cory peered around the cavernous room and took in the lively atmosphere. Ten pool tables were strategically set up to maximize solo and group play. Walking across the space, he passed a group of men ribbing each other. A fifty-something man pocketed a ball then spotted Cory. “Lookee here. Grab a pool stick, son.”

Cory sat on a seat close to the action and pointed at the bald, clean-shaven man. “Not today. I just came to watch you masters clean the table.”

“Take notes,” another man said. “Stu left this little boy hanging in the pocket.”

With that, Cory realized he had chosen the correct diversion after all. His bed and sandwich could wait until later that evening. These lively antics might delete a tiresome woman from his mind. Last year, he had purged her from his heart, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never seem to evict her from his mind. He hoped that changing his long-established habits might help.

Review

Of all of the books in this series, this has been the best one. While all of the stories have their pros and cons, this one felt smoother with the writing. The characters were ones that I could relate to in a way. While I haven’t gone through the same situations, I understand betrayal.

Tempia and Corey have a bumpy start to their relationship. While there is attraction, Quince’s underhandness separates them before they ever get started. Quince is NOT a likable character. He is only in a relationship with Tempia to get at Corey. Some friend, right? Quince is selfish and cares only about himself. Sadly, Tempia realizes this too late. But she is able to extract herself from this situation. Now, if she and Corey can find their way to one another.

I think both of these characters have trust issues. They also have parents that, while they want the best for them, can be overbearing. I know that most parents care about what happens to their children, but they are adults and have to learn some of these lessons themselves. Even if it is the hard way. But that is what makes these characters endearing: the willingness to adapt and become better people through their normal lives.

We give this book 4 1/2 paws up!

About the Author

E. C. Jackson began her writing career with the full-length play Pajama Party. Thirty-one years later, she adapted the play into Pajama Party: The Story, a companion book to the second book in the five-book standalone Hope series.

Jackson’s favorite pastime is reading fiction. She enjoys taking the journey along with the characters in the books. That also led to her unorthodox approach to story writing. Her vision for each book she writes is to immerse readers into the storyline so they become connected with each character.

“The Write Way: A Real Slice of Life” is the slogan on her Facebook author page. She feels that if every person reading her books feels connected to the characters, her job is done.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Synopsis

Is there hope for this love between friends?

Pamela Hayes is a smart, successful business owner with a supportive family and a thriving bakery. She should be the happiest girl in the world. But she can’t shake the melancholy that accompanies every conversation she has with her best friend, Mark. Pamela doesn’t know how much longer she can hide her true feelings.

Why can’t Mark see how perfect they would be together? She would make a much better girlfriend than the one he currently has. Pamela prays he’ll come to his senses soon and realize he’s with the wrong girl. But when her dream comes true, it isn’t the fantasy she had envisioned.

There is trouble in paradise from the start, and all the red flags she’s been ignoring are starting to threaten her confidence…and her relationship with Mark. She’ll have to rely on family and her faith in God to help her secure the hope she so desperately needs.

Amazon

Excerpt

Motes reflected in the sunlight that beamed through an eastern bedroom window. Background noise filtered past closed doors. Turning over in bed onto her stomach, Pamela Hayes yanked a beige satin comforter off the floor with one hand. That same hand then tossed a navy-blue neck pillow upon the bed. Footsteps on the other side of the door grabbed her attention.

Mom’s on her Saturday-morning prowl. Five, four, three, two, one …

Anna Hayes’s head poked inside her daughter’s bedroom. Hallway lighting bathed her trim figure in artificial brightness. “Morning, babe. Touching base before I go.” Her warm gaze surveyed the tousled bed. “From the tangled cover, it looks like you had a rough night.”

With a hand covering her yawn, Pamela shook her head and turned onto her side. “Just my normal Friday night tug-of-war. It’s my preferred method of winding down.”

Anna’s soft laugh sounded like music. “Any special plans today?”

Leaning on her elbow, Pamela rested her face on spread fingers as she gazed at her mother. Forty-eight-year-old Anna wore desert-green ankle boots, cropped white pants, and an oversized olive-green sweater. A brown suede bag hung over her shoulder.

“You look like a dream, Mom. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d think you were going out with someone special.”

Laughter flitted through slightly parted lips. “I’m late. Give me a quick rundown on your activities for today.”

Oh boy. I had hoped she wouldn’t ask. Better mention my afternoon expedition last.

“Shopping for a spring wardrobe around noon. My jeans are tatty. And then, shooting the rapids.”

The door opened wider as Anna grasped the doorknob. “Water rafting somewhere near South Town?”

“Oklahoma City. The spring season begins today. It’s safe, Mom. Stop frowning.”

“I’m sure they take safety precautions. But promise to be extra careful. I can do without mental pictures of my twenty-five-year-old daughter drowning.”

Pamela flopped onto her back. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you. I love surrender whenever I hear it.” Anna checked her watch. “I’ll be out late. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.”

After those parting words, her mother floated out of the house. Her all-day Saturday excursions had begun late last year. A seeming whim had developed into a lengthy pattern.

After the front door lock clicked, a sleepy Pamela hid her head beneath the sheets and immediately fell back to sleep.

Review

Pamela and Mark might be best friends, but are they right for each other? Or is it just Pamela’s desire? There is a whirlwind relationship culminating in their wedding, but it doesn’t take long after the honeymoon (like the same day!) to realize that there might be issues. Communication will have to be worked on if this relationship will work.

I wasn’t wild about Mark at first. He was very self-involved, and it was evident when he knew nothing about Pamela’s business and interests. It doesn’t take too much for him to realize that he is going to have to step up his game and get to know his wife. Pamela ran away from their issues from the start instead of staying and talking to Mark about it, despite their list of relationship “rules.” Granted, she only ran away for a few hours, and I can understand her desire to take a breather to think about the situation. However, that is a bad precedent to start at the beginning of a marriage.

Things do settle down, and we see them work through many issues and situations to strengthen their relationship or at least give the appearance of becoming a stronger couple. I don’t know if they ever truly resolve their issues to my satisfaction, but this isn’t my relationship or how I would handle things, and I know that everyone has their own approach to dealing with issues.

There are a few surprises along the way, and I like that Pamela is growing her business with Mark’s help. Although, I felt like he was trying to take it over at times. I know he has the experience and was trying to be helpful, but I think he could have gone about it differently.

There are family issues to deal with as well. Mark isn’t fond of his parents. Pamela is torn between her divorced parents. I think this helps us to understand why Mark and Pamela approach situations the way that they do.

Overall, we give this book 4 paws up.

About the Author

E. C. Jackson began her writing career with the full-length play Pajama Party. Thirty-one years later, she adapted the play into Pajama Party: The Story, a companion book to the second book in the five-book standalone Hope series.

Jackson’s favorite pastime is reading fiction. She enjoys taking the journey along with the characters in the books. That also led to her unorthodox approach to story writing. Her vision for each book she writes is to immerse readers into the storyline so they become connected with each character.

“The Write Way: A Real Slice of Life” is the slogan on her Facebook author page. She feels that if every person reading her books feels connected to the characters, her job is done.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Synopsis

An unforgettable tale of courage, compassion, and the pursuit of freedom.

Maggie has always accepted life’s constraints: that is, until she witnesses a breathtaking moment of liberation as a butterfly breaks free from a spider’s web. And this small, defiant act sparks a fire within her soul.

That’s a dangerous thing for a field slave in 1850 Missouri.

As her daughter ascends to the coveted position of personal maid to the Mistress, Maggie’s family is thrust into the intricate dynamics of power and privilege within the House.

But in the shadows, a chance encounter between Maggie’s sons and Preacher, a burly, escaped slave, sets the stage for a risky alliance.

Meanwhile, Lucy, the Master’s lonely daughter, hungers for the warmth and kindness that Maggie effortlessly exudes. The boundaries that separate them are as rigid as the times they live in, but the desire for connection and understanding defies the odds.

Maggie, recognizing an opportunity for freedom, finds herself entwined in a perilous dance between liberation and the relentless pull of her current station.

Will she follow in the path of the butterfly?

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Excerpt

Preacher had run out of Poplar Bluff and never slowed through Perryville. A dog caught him just outside Hannibal. Beating the hound off with a heavy branch, he’d limped free, though days later he could barely crawl. The pain had swelled, and his strength had ebbed.

He’d avoided plantations till now. Old Merlin had told him plantations were perfect—slaves helped slaves, and the masters couldn’t tell one from the other. But most slaves weren’t tall enough to look their master’s prize stallion in the eye, and Preacher could. And some slaves would turn you in for an extra portion of bacon fat. He’d found that out the hard way the night he ran. He’d stuffed food scraps into a feedbag as he had taken to doing several times a week. The next step was to snatch the last few scraps from the master’s ancient hound. The hound never minded—it ate too well and liked its sleep. But that particular night, Old Ned had seen him. The man had nodded friendly-like and started walking away—before Old Ned’s mother appeared and struck her son with a stick.

“He’ll tell the master for bacon,” she’d told Preacher. “Hell, he’d tell just out of spite. You go on now. Get!”

Seeing the look in Old Ned’s eyes, Preacher left the scraps and ran. He ran for six days.

He’d been able to eat here and there, doing some hunting but more stealing from gardens. Hadn’t ate much since that dog bit him. Last night he had crept into the plantation, dug up a potato, and devoured it dirt and all. The scent of honeysuckle had promised a sweet treat, but he found it too much effort to eat. So, he’d hidden in this bush, hoping the bit of food and rest would be enough to keep him going.

He woke to a sound.

“Snatch it off careful,” said a boy’s voice, innocent and unaware of life’s burden. “Now bite round the end, but not all the way. See? Like this.”

“And that drop’s the honey?” said another boy, seemingly younger still and full of wonder.

A movement caught Preacher’s eye, long and black and sliding through the grass toward his bad leg.

“That’s the honey.”

Preacher crept his hand into position. Saying a quick prayer, he grabbed the serpent farther down the body than he’d wanted, but close enough it couldn’t bite him. That dog had outsmarted him, but no damned snake would do the same.

“I thought honey came from bees.”

The reptile thrashed about, rattling the bush until two little heads popped through. “What you doing, mister?” asked the older boy, his eyes wide.

Preacher showed him the black snake. “Looks like I’m saving your ass.”

“Shoot. That’s just a king snake…he can’t hurt nothing.”

Preacher held it out to the boy, who pulled back. He then twisted around and threw it as far as he could.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

“Hound dog got it.”

The little one finally spoke. “Booker had a hound dog.”

“Buster! Tweed!” called a far-off voice. “You youngins hear me?”

Both boys looked over their shoulders.

“Don’t tell on me,” Preacher whispered. “We men take care of each other.”

The older boy seemed affronted at the accusation. “We won’t tell!”

“Where you boys at? Buster!” The woman’s voice sounded annoyed but with an anxious tone creeping in.

“Our secret from the womenfolk.” Preacher tried to smile.

Then the younger boy burst out, “Mammy!”

There was nothing Preacher could do but lie there and wait. When that third head poked through the flowering branches, the woman’s eyes grew bigger than the boys’ had been.

“His leg is hurt,” the older one told her.

She didn’t reply.

She looked old enough and then some to be the boy’s mammy. Still had muscle, and she was a reasonable size as far as women went, with a faded purple scarf covering her hair. Her eyes were full of some emotion, but Preacher couldn’t guess exactly what. He didn’t know if he was safe or dead where he lay.

About the Author

At the age of three, her father found her with a book in her lap, yelling, “Read, read, read!” He quietly tiptoed away. Jo Sparkes took up a pen soon after.

As a contributing writer for the Arizona Sports Fans Network, where she was called their most popular writer, she garnered popularity with her humorous articles, player interviews and game coverage. Her body of work includes scripts for Children’s live-action and animated television programs, a direct-to-video Children’s DVD, and commercial work for corporate clients.

Her original script, Frank Retrieval, won the 2012 Kay Snow Award for best screenplay. Her fantasy series, The Legend of the Gamesmen, has garnered two B.R.A.G. Medallions and a 2015 silver IPPY award for Ebook Juvenile/YA Fiction.

When not diligently perfecting her craft, Jo can be found exploring her new home of Plymouth, England, where she and her spouse have embarked on a new adventure.

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Echoes of a Voice for Justice: The Story of Barry A. Murray
by Anita Hackley Lambert
Publisher: HLE Publishing
Pages: 296
Genre: Historical Biography

Synopsis

Experience the extraordinary life of Barry Antonio Murray, an unwavering champion for the progressive Black movement of the post-Reconstruction era. Ms. Lambert masterfully tells the riveting tale of this unsung civil rights activist, influential publisher, and uncompromising editor in this historic biography. Uncovering a 50-year-old family secret, Ms. Lambert’s captivating narrative begins at her book’s debut, where chance encounters forever altered her life. Delve into Barry Murray’s legacy, his ties to F.H.M. Murray, a civil rights trailblazer and the great-grandfather he never knew—yet, walked in his shoes. Readers gain insights into the nation’s racial divide and witness the heart-wrenching conclusion and his questionable sudden death. This captivating biography sheds light on Barry’s remarkable journey, celebrating his unwavering activism, pursuit of justice, and empowerment of the community. This saga intertwines history, personal struggles, and family secrets, leaving an indelible mark on readers, showcasing the indomitable spirit of one man’s triumphs and divine destiny.

Interview

Why Barry A. Murray? What was it about him that made you want to write a book about him?

Anita: Why, because it’s truly supernatural—all a part of God’s plan. Barry Murray’s life and legacy had a date with destiny. The Lord chosen, inspired and facilitated every aspect of Barry Murray. Really. From, personal spiritual experiences I have learned there are no coincidences. As fate would have it, the time had arrived when Barry’s legacy and my destiny would merge. Barry Murray is the cousin I came to know through exploring his life. Just as there was an appointed time for Barry’s legacy to be revealed, God had orchestrated the appointed for me to write Barry his story—just as He did for the F.H.M. Murray legacy.

Anyone who knows me, understands that I live my life is Spiritually-based. I do not focus on my desires but solely on how the Spirit of God leads me. There are no words to express my gratitude that God allowed me to the author of both Barry A. Murray and F.H.M. Murray’s historical biographies that otherwise may never have been written.

Can you give us the very first page of your book so that we can get a glimpse inside?

Anita: As a spiritual-connected individual, I’m thrilled you requested that page because, for me, it was the beginning manifestation of a promise I received from Lord, years before. It’s still awe surreal.

Prologue

Echoes of a Divine Encounter

God blessed me, then set me up to bless me again.

Call it an omen if you like. I know better. It was a clear demonstration of God’s favor in my life, as He has always been present. In His infinite wisdom, the Holy Spirit sent a message to my spirit, assuring me that great things would transpire once my book, F.H.M. Murray: First Biography of a Forgotten Pioneer for Civil Justice was released. Little did I know how astonishingly accurate that message would prove to be.

As a first-time author entering the arena of Pulitzer Prize-winning authors, the journey behind the creation of this book is remarkable in itself. Allow me to indulge in a few eventful affirmations leading to this book.

During this time period, was there much turmoil going on in the country?

Anita: In the crucible of 1963, a twelve-year-old Barry Murray began his journey through a harsh reality dominated by systemic racism. It was a pivotal point that laid the foundation for his unwavering commitment to addressing the glaring absence of support and representation for the black community. Submerged in newspapers, Barry keenly observed the injustices reported and pledged to become the advocate his people sorely needed.

The era spanning the mid-1960s to 2000 witnessed the prominence of civil rights luminaries such as Martin Luther King, Jr., Julien Bond, Eleanor Holmes Norton, John Lewis, Dorothy Height, and Fannie Lou Hamer. Yet, following King’s tragic assassination, a shift occurred in the landscape of activism. Many leaders assumed federal positions, trading some of their boldness for comfortable roles, which, ironically, did not afford the freedoms they once enjoyed. The struggle for justice became entangled with financial gains, and the waves of change began to recede.

Compounding this transition, both white and black press adopted a superficial approach to news reporting. White media, driven by advertiser interests, skewed their narratives, neglecting the pressing issues affecting black communities. Simultaneously, the black press, grappling to stay afloat, found itself caught in a cycle of rehashing stories originating from the white press.

Barry, disheartened by the distortion of facts, recognized a critical gap in the narrative. The community remained uninformed, devoid of an authentic voice that truly represented their concerns. This realization sparked an unyielding determination within him. He envisioned a future where he would assume the self-appointed role of advocating for the black race – a mission to make waves, empower the community, and disseminate the unadulterated truth. Barry Murray emerged as a symbol of resilience, propelled by a commitment to fill the void and ensure that his people were not merely heard but accurately informed about the realities shaping their lives.

This “closely guarded secret” that you hint about in the book description, can you give us a hint at what that is?

Anita: I’ll reveal only this much: had the secret not been guarded with utmost care, the narrative of Barry Murray might never have unfolded. What I am willing to assert is that, in my perspective, the true hero—or should I say, heroine—of this entire saga is an impoverished, solitary, and perplexed orphan girl. She, against all odds, defied expectations and made a pivotal decision that became the genesis of this entire tale.

Do you believe we need more people like Barry A. Murray and, why or why not?

Anita: AT the moment and based upon the current fallen state of humanity, more people like Barry Murray is not what this country needs. While the prospect of such a transformation may seem like wishful thinking, the landscape of our times has indeed undergone significant upheaval, leaving everything topsy-turvy. Our current reality reflects an ungodly societal shift, where the lines between right and wrong, good and bad, have become blurred. Regrettably, our society and the global stage have evolved into a marketplace of hatred, indifference, and intolerance. It is disheartening to observe that those with malicious intent are causing disruptions, and there seems to be a deafening silence in response. Society appears to have succumbed to a state of collective ignorance, fear, and confusion. The struggle for survival has become a daily reality for many, with the simple act of providing for their children becoming an arduous task.

True change, it seems, hinges on decisive actions from our government or military to reclaim power for the people. Until then, the narrative remains stagnant. A pivotal aspect missing from our current discourse is the absence of God and the Bible, which, if reinstated, would serve as a beacon to steer humanity away from self-destruction.

Speaking from a personal standpoint as a woman of faith, having traversed two near-death experiences has granted me glimpses into the future. I am certain that a day of reckoning is on the horizon. Positive change will manifest, ushering in a season of change for the betterment of the people. However, the inevitable corruption cycle repeats itself, with evil rearing its head once more, presenting new challenges. It is during these times that figures like Barry Murray and other advocates for humanity will need to unite or stand alone to uphold justice.

Then our nation would urgently require powerful like-minded advocates of civil rights and full equality—men and women alike—who will courageously champion what is right and stand against the prevailing injustices targeting humanity. The strength derived from an unwavering connection to the Word of God will be the determining factor in prevailing over adversity. Sadly, amidst this struggle, millions, perhaps billions, may perish, highlighting the urgency for a collective awakening and a return to foundational Christian values this nation was founded upon.

Is this a series of books and if so what are the others?

Anita: My writing career had to be appointed by God, because although I write historical biographies, that would not have been my genre of choice. I am on a divine mission to write a host of nonfiction books, not a specific series. As 2024 approaches I shall strive to complete as many of the following book projects as possible:

Second Edition – F.H.M. Murray biography (to highlight his major contributions and to add more research details)

The F.H.M. Murray’s Family Member Biographies & Genealogy Charts of selected individuals who devoted their lives and careers to the betterment of humanity during a time when Jim Crow laws prevailed.

Authorized biography: an amazing “outhouse to the White House” story of a poor orphaned girl who against all odds, emerged to work for some of the world’s wealthiest families before working for two former U.S. presidents.

Memoir: My two near-death experiences and my transforming life

Inspirational/Encouragement: about the supernatural connection between dreams and achieving your goals

Memoir: based on the unpublished book (No Where to Run), I wrote when I was 14 about the deep dark secret that nearly shattered and almost ended my life.

If I were to stop and think about it, this might seem like a lot. However, each of these volumes either have either a rough draft or summary chapter outlines, which will help move things along. I will do my best as I am still learning to write.

Last questions: What do you believe would put an end to racism?

Are we going about it all wrong and that’s why nothing’s working?

Or do you believe we are doing everything we can and are going in the right direction?

Anita: Based on my observations, racism appears to be a learned behavior, sustained by the persistence of prejudiced hearts. It seems destined to persist until either those harboring such malice undergo a transformative change or the world itself comes to an end. The key to eradicating racism lies in the willingness of parents to instill values that prioritize judging individuals based on their character rather than the color of their skin.

Reflecting on the historical dynamics of white infants raised by black caregivers, I’m reminded of instances where deep bonds were formed. A white friend who experienced such an upbringing shared, “To this day, I cherish my ‘mammy’ as if she were my biological mother. Her kindness, warmth, nurturing nature, and love were unparalleled. My biological mother was seldom involved in my upbringing.”

However, the present reality is marked by a troubling landscape of opposing groups seemingly fueled and funded to incite racial and civil unrest. A concerning trend involves uneducated and ignorant youth from various ethnic backgrounds falling into a trap, unwittingly contributing to civil discord. Many seem to lack a clear understanding of the protests they join, functioning as followers without leadership skills, ambitions, or dreams—essentially becoming unwitting puppets.

In my perspective, the role of the federal government in curbing hatred and racism has been notably limited. Insights from media and digital platforms reveal a disheartening truth: politicians, regardless of party affiliations, often prioritize personal wealth accumulation over serving the people. The pervasive issue persists because little concrete action is taken to address the root problems.

While some assert that a solution would require an act of Congress, I posit an alternative view. Real change, I believe, necessitates an Act of God—an intervention beyond the conventional realms of human governance. Until a higher force intervenes, inspiring genuine transformation and a commitment to resolving societal ills, the status quo prevails, and the cycle of unaddressed issues perpetuates.

Excerpt

Revelation At Harpers Ferry

DAY 1. Over three remarkable days, I experienced an extraordinary blessing. The journey began with a captivating audience of history enthusiasts eagerly awaiting the scholarly presentation of my  book. Hosting the event was none other than the talented actor and orator, Fred Morsel, adding an extra layer of prestige to the occasion.

DAY 2. The second day brought an unforgettable collaboration as I joined forces with the esteemed Dr. Henry Lewis Gates. Together, he and our volunteer group embarked on a historical reenactment that transported us back in time, allowing us to breathe life into the past. The experience was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

DAY 3. As the event’s third and final day unfolded, it delivered an exceptional finale that surpassed all expectations. Amidst a captivating photo shoot, I had the incredible honor of meeting the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and esteemed historian, David Levering Lewis. His approval of my book was a momentous validation, solidifying its significance in the literary world. Furthermore, I had the pleasure of engaging with readers and selling and signing copies of my book–an experience that felt like a dream come true for a first-time author.

But the wonders did not end there. On this very same day, I had the privilege of capturing memories alongside the illustrious Dr. DuBois Irving, the great-granddaughter of the legendary W.E.B. DuBois, as well as Reverend Walter Fauntroy. It was a surreal convergence of influential figures embodying the legacy and impact of the subject I had delved into within my book.

In retrospect, I realized how mistaken I was to believe that the day couldn’t get any better. This trifecta of days had become the pinnacle of a first-time author’s aspirations, a once-in-a-lifetime culmination of success, connections, and reflective experiences. It was an unforgettable chapter in my life, ever etched in my memory.

The true purpose behind our fateful meeting that day in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia became crystal clear, and its significance can never be underestimated. It felt as if the forces of destiny were at work, orchestrating every detail. Joan Anderson and her daughter Kelly had embarked on a journey with a singular objective in mind: to find me and engage in a discussion. Their presence was no mere coincidence; they sought me out with a determination reminiscent of an eagle’s relentless pursuit of its prey.

As they made their way across the paved courtyard towards me, I immediately sensed an air of urgency and purpose. Joan, with a noticeable limp and relying on a cane for support, locked eyes with me. The tremor in her voice betrayed her emotional state as she began to speak. What she revealed next left me utterly stunned. “My son, Barry, has been a closely guarded family secret for half a century,” she confessed. Her words hung heavy in the air. “He is none other than F.H.M. Murray’s great-grandson. He shares a bloodline with you.”

Sensing the watchful eyes of curious onlookers, Joan guided me away from the crowd, creating a cocoon of privacy amidst the bustling celebration. She revealed that other family members were in attendance, yet she chose to trust me, a stranger, with her most painful secret. As she spoke, her words carried a weight of sincere love and immeasurable loss. It was palpable how deeply she cherished her son and the devastation she felt in his absence.

The burden she had carried for so long was finally lifted, and she entrusted it to me, a confidant she had only just met.

In that moment, the weight of generations converged, extraordinarily intertwining our lives. The revelation brought forth a deep sense of connection as if a hidden mystery of familial ties had been unveiled. Our encounter was far more than a chance meeting—it was a cosmic convergence guided by an unseen hand. It was as if the universe itself conspired to bring us together, weaving together our shared heritage and the legacy of our ancestors.

I sat in awe as Joan continued to unveil the depths of her long-held secret, her words flowing uninterrupted. It was as if she bore the weight of this revelation for years, and now she was resolute in her purpose. There was a certainty in her voice, an insightful understanding of the task before her. With a firm determination, she looked directly into my eyes as if she could anticipate my very thoughts.

You have been chosen,” she declared, her gaze piercing into the depths of my soul, “to write Barry’s story.”

At that moment, the weight of responsibility and privilege intertwined. For over fifty years, the truth about Freeman Murray’s audacious fight for African-Americans had remained buried, neglected by historians and authors who failed to uncover his significant contributions. Yet, she believed that I, and only I, possessed the ability to breathe life into Barry’s legacy, to connect him to his Murray lineage, and to share his untold journey with the world. Joan was adamant, unyielding in her conviction that it was my divine purpose to write Barry’s biography.

An inexplicable connection enveloped us instantaneously as if the threads of fate had bound our lives together across the ages. It felt as though I had stumbled upon the long-lost sister I had conjured in my childhood fantasies. Joan articulated that our bond symbolized her “freedom,” a newfound purpose that propelled her forward. As I grappled with the weight of this extraordinary opportunity, I contemplated whether I dared embrace an encounter that would bind me by an unbreakable oath while simultaneously liberating her.

Though cognizant of the commitment that awaited me, I recognized it as a remarkable honor to undertake. The magnitude of this chance was too extraordinary to overlook. It held the promise of a cherished friendship, a sisterhood forged in the depths of shared secrets, a bond of cousinhood, and the revelation of a hidden familial legacy. Moreover, it presented an unparalleled opportunity to craft yet another captivating book, exceeding my wildest aspirations. The first book had merely set the stage, but this authorized biography, bestowed upon me like precious rubies, was a treasure of immeasurable worth. It came accompanied by invaluable documentation, slashing through the dense thicket of research and providing a shortcut to truth.

About the Author

Ms. Lambert, a distinguished genealogist, historian, and biographer, achieved historical acclaim with her inaugural book, praised by luminaries such as Pulitzer Prize-winner David Levering Lewis and historian Charles Patterson. As an unrivaled familial authority, she penned insightful biographies of visionary businessmen and civil rights champions F.H.M. Murray and Barry A. Murray. Nestled in the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia with her husband, Ms. Lambert continues her literary journey, poised to add two more captivating biographies and contribute to a quartet of nonfiction gems, that showcases her unwavering commitment to illuminating the human experience.

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