Author: missjenkinsbooks

There is not much to say about me. I wish I could say with honesty that writing was a destiny that simply fell into my lap; that I was meant to do this and in the next year or so my name will be written on the skyline; that I will be sitting on Oprah’s couch on her Next Chapter; and my work will be the next block buster. But I cannot. I will not. I am a 28-no excuse me, 29 year old woman with a long list of dreams and goals that have only been recently introduced to the light. So, what is there to say about me? Well, I used to write poems that eventually turned into song lyrics back in my teen years which led me to believe that I was going to be a ghostwriter for the likes of Destiny’s Child. Clearly that never happened. Just like every other passing whim of a dreamy eyed girl those words disappeared back into the ether perhaps to be syphoned back into the third dimension by some other dreamer with the heart to pursue their vision. And then I unwillingly became an adult: and one can only guess how the cycle went; relationships, a relationship that eventually led to a child and a tumultuous road of ups and downs and disappointment. And then I got over myself and picked myself up. I put away the pen and sought more practical pursuits like giving college a final attempt. I decided to go through the for profit route: Westwood College. There, I was able to receive my Bachelors of Science in Criminal Justice in three years leaving me feeling like my victory in accomplishing something was hollow. Now what? I drifted. I did what adults have to do to take care of their families. I struggled, and in that struggle forgot about my ambitions on changing the world through some sort of activism to just hoping to land that position that would provide me with the stability that I was searching for. Throughout the pursuit of my education I was encouraged to write. “You’re an excellent story teller,” came one instructor. “Help me with my paper,” came a fellow student. I know, I know how does this relate to this particular point in my life? Looking back, I remembered. I remembered how much I enjoyed a good read. I remembered the many nights that my muse would haunt me with visions of vibrant and amazing characters begging me to bring them to life; to give them a story and a name and a purpose. I fought with myself; denying this sudden urge to become my own creator because I did not believe that I could write; and that my writing could affect someone somehow. I jotted down my ideas lest they end up forgotten and kept them safe until I was ready. So, I bought a laptop, and it could not have come at a better time because as I was struggling with a great deal of emotional conflicts, I wrote an urban drama entitled Love At Last. Once that was accomplished, I gave one of the most challenging characters I created her story in Nubia Rising. As a fan of the L.A. Banks Vampire Huntress Legends series, I was inspired after her death in 2011 to create my own heroine. A heroine that would live on long after my time on earth is complete; and in that discovery, and in all of the hours of reading and research and bible studies (yes, Bible studies), I found her path which inevitably is my path. My journey as an author and as an individual rests within that of the supernatural; the paranormal; the abnormal; the shadows behind every single myth and legend and conspiracy one could find. My goal is to blur the lines of the literary world… to challenge its fears of what most would think to be the unaccepted. So, now that I have introduced the first chapter in my life, only God can write the next.

Nubia Rising: The Awakening Synopsis

Synopsis

Nubia Rising begins with the introduction to the legend of the Destroyers. Many eons after the First War in Heaven when Lucifer and a third of the heavenly company were cast out from the presence of God, the Annunaki, or Fallen Ones (as known by the ancient Babylonians) came down from the Heavens, bringing down with them a power that was to remain only in the hands of the Almighty and violated the Heavenly Edict; an action that cost them severely. They built the city of Atlantis using this power, created immortals (gods) and taught humans wicked ways and as a result a great flood came and washed everything away, including that great city of Atlantis and they were banned from returning to the Heavens. Some were captured and imprisoned in the Euphrates Rivers as stated in the Christian Bible until further judgment. Others flocked to Lucifer for protection, leaving only six who opted to not side with Lucifer and become a part of the damned. Instead, they held out hope that they may be offered some sort of redemption and so they took refuge in the deep waters of the Atlantic where the last surviving pyramid of Atlantis remained.

The story’s heroine, Kitara, a head strong, independent young woman born between 1450 and 1500 B.C.; during a time when gods ruled the lands; and the human populations had to be careful in the choosing the god or gods that they worshipped. Since birth, Kitara’s long time ailing mother Aisha had known that her daughter was special, which is why she chose to live as a nomad to protect her daughter from being recognized for who she was meant to be. However, it was not long after Kitara received bits and pieces to answers that she was looking for, when the Egyptian goddess Isis confronted Aisha regarding Kitara’s insolence; and rather than heal the woman, whom had been nothing short of a loyal worshipper, Isis killed both Aisha and Kitara’s 12 year old brother. Angry, confused and heartbroken, Kitara vowed to come for Isis and every Egyptian god thereafter, and it was soon after, that someone else had been watching and more than ready to provide her the opportunity to have her revenge.

The storyline transitions from present day to past memories that Kitara reflects on as she struggles with the losses of everyone she had ever loved. Her most stable companion is her sword, and is frequently referred to as the Sword of Oblivion. Oblivion is actually an angel; the first and only female angel ever created and the Light’s secret weapon against the darkness. Oblivion is the only one who can permanently obliterate an immortal or a god; and she was given to Kitara because Kitara’s abilities renders her the most powerful of the Destroyers. Between the two of them, they are a lethal force to be reckoned with.

Next, there is Jose: a young, ordinary man with a not so ordinary life. His mother had committed suicide when he was just 13 years old and prior to that, she been battling severe mental illness after his birth. His father and the rest of the family had done nothing but sweep it under the rug, leaving him to come to terms with her loss on his own. Not long after her death, he began to experience some of what his mother had gone through with severe bouts of depression and even hallucinations. He had been given prescriptions for the depression and had at one point in his life been referred to a therapist which proved to be less than helpful. So now at the tender age of twenty he felt like his life was meaningless. He was fired from his job, his girlfriend broke up with him and there was an incessant female voice in his head seducing him to end his life at the Golden Gate Bridge. Fed up with everything he makes the drive, only for his attempt to be thwarted by none of Kitara who had sensed the presence of the goddess of suicide Ixtab and proceeded to terminate the ancient Mayan deity. After a brief introduction and an even quicker goodbye, Kitara heads off in an unknown direction, leaving Jose alone with his thoughts.

The other Destroyers are quickly introduced. There is the hothead Naomi, the Vampire Hunter who is now technically out of work because vampires have now become extinct. Sage, the Witch hunter, a vibrant woman of Celtic origins and born during the time of Merlin. Syrene: the Demon Hunter and the one Destroyer whose origins as well as intentions are constantly placed into question. And, then there is Celeste, a Destroyer born at the very end of Mayan prosperity. All four Destroyers had been on a quest to locate Kitara for five hundred years after the tragic loss of Incan children who were sacrificed to one of the many blood thirsty gods. It was not until here in the present day that they were able to reunite with their beloved god slayer; and they finally learn that Jose was the key to Isis’ plans and that the supernatural community is severely divided.

Isis had awakened from her tomb thirty years before Kitara was found and in those thirty years she managed to fool mankind by posing as a singer by the name of Jewel and launching herself into superstardom. Her consort was a rapper who called himself Young Ra, whose own ambitions would lead him into serious trouble. Lilith, Adam’s first wife and now the mother of all demons had been posing as Isis’ maidservant while working on her own schemes. It was not until after an almost lethal confrontation between the two entities that Isis realized that Lilith was her enemy and proceeded to accelerate her plans of raising Osiris and harnessing the energies of Atlantis to gain full control over the supernatural and human communities. Isis and Osiris were the only gods who were aware of the existence of the last Atlantean pyramid, but she needed assistance from the full company of the gods to complete her plans. After quite a bit of deception she leads just about every single remaining god left that had not been beheaded by Oblivion into an all-out assault on Kitara and her team, bringing to light the age old battle between good and evil that usually played out behind the scenes of humanity.

As the story concludes, Isis ends up capturing Jose and fulfilling her purpose of raising Osiris whose spirit had been trapped in his own Osirian realms; Syrene had been captured and trapped by Young Ra using Osiris’ ring in an attempt to work out a deal with a death demon; and so it then becomes up to Kitara, Sage and Naomi to save Jose and the rest of humanity from Armageddon’s premature arrival through the reintroduction of Osiris’s return.

At the end, Kitara kills Isis, and Osiris is back but only to return to not being able to be at his wife’s side and thirsting for revenge. Jose is given a new life; not as a Destroyer but simply a young man with a new lease on life. Syrene is still trapped in the Osirian realms and there is a new enemy that has not been on the scene for centuries: Kalima, the Fallen Destroyer. The Destroyers must figure out a way to defeat Osiris while at the same time deal with one who was once one of their own as well as come to terms with their own individual issues which will all be discussed in book two.

* This is the actual synopsis for my second completed manuscript that I am currently shopping around to agencies and publishers. There is no where else to go but up from here. I just wish that the publishing community would embrace the “There is something for everyone” concept instead of constantly searching for the next Twilight, Hunger Games and Harry Potter stories.*

Sometimes it’s all in Your Head

I gotta get out of my head. That self doubt, that little voice that tells me “no, they won’t like that” or “no, you gotta change that” has kept me locked in this prison of the unaccomplished… I am a writer. I felt its pull in my elementary school years- 5th grade to be exact when we were asked to write a short play and then act it out in front of the class. The only thing I remember is the scene wherein I wrote “well, you stole my boyfriend with your sexy perfume!” And, once my partner/BFF Priscilla acted it out the class (including my teacher/arch nemesis Ms. Steeg ) roared with laughter. So, for me to finally step into the arena and put more focus on my dream, it is a tad overwhelming to see that I am not the only one with a story…with this same desire to see my work come together in printed form and reach the hearts and minds of many…to give a little of that part of oneself that has remained hidden from everyone other than God. I know, I am rambling. But sometimes it’s all in my head.

What I Should be Doing

All I want to do is write; to share my imaginations with the world; to give humanity an inside scoop on what REALLY goes on in my head, but here I sit with a slight headache, my significant other talking-no yelling-into his phone (which is normal for him) and my television on A Different World. I should be working on my third manuscript for another science fiction/fantasy called The Family Curse. I should be searching for agents to submit my Nubia Rising manuscript to. I should be researching independent publishers and learning more about the publishing market and what I could do to get myself out there. I should also be focused on my job search. I am a step away from the unemployment line being that I work part time for a well known retail store (mind you I have a Bachelor of Science degree in Criminal Justice, but that is the topic of a different blog) and I simply need to move on. But no. I am curled up on the couch counting the minutes until I have to pick my 7 year old up from her after school program. I should take a nap.

Excerpt from Love At Last

Chapter One

Danielle

Monday Is a Bitch

I hate early mornings, but I especially hate MONDAY mornings. But hey, I know that I am not alone in my hatred for the first day of the work week. You see, Monday mornings are incredibly hectic in my household; they are constant reminders as to why I should be single. My boyfriend of five years live together in a small one bedroom apartment in Los Angeles, and before I go any further, rent ain’t cheap ok? Which means that we BOTH have to work. Unfortunately, I am the only one who does (and has been since the first of last year when he lost his job as an account manager for a mid-sized security company) and I will most assuredly get to that later. So, for over a year I have found myself having to go in TWO hours early just to squeeze in some overtime. As a matter of fact last week I had to beg, plead and borrow just to scrape up the money to turn our lights back on AND buy some food for the house. Any who, back to the reason why Mondays are a bitch: I have to get up at four, attempt to do some housekeeping before I leave (even though I will have to do it again when I come home) and then beat feet out the door before “his majesty” wakes up and asks me a million questions which when dealing with him has the potential to make me late. And God forbid he rolls over and decides that he wants some early morning “cookie”. But thankfully, today is the day that period has decided to grace me with its presence, so just as I am grabbing my bag and my jacket, I hear nothing but loud snoring coming from the bedroom.

I hate driving, especially downtown Los Angeles so I usually just park my car (a 2000 all white Honda Accord) in the Green-line parking structure and ride the train to work and today is no exception. I park my car between a beat up forest green Sudan and a 1995 funny colored BMW, slip on my flip-flops (yes I wear them on my way to work. You try walking in five inch heels all day riding public transportation and walking to and fro and you will quickly find out that before the end of the day, your feet will hate you.), load my “work shoes” and my lunch in my favorite tote bag, do a once over in my mirror to make sure I at least do not have any food stuck in my teeth and make my way to the train. I say a little prayer that even at 5:15 in the morning, my ride to work is uneventful and that instead of laying in the bed all day and eating us out of house and home, the man with the title “boyfriend” is in front of the computer screen and making use of the resume I put together for him. I hate Mondays. I really do.

I work for a small law firm on 5th and Wilshire as a legal assistant. The pay is ok, all things considered but being the go-getter that I am I am working on my paralegal certification. And before you say anything Paralegals make good money, at least in my case good enough for me to move on from my living situation. Don’t get me wrong, I am sure somewhere in the pit of my stomach I do love King (again don’t. say. Anything. I am not the one who named him) BUUUUUUUUUUT he has done quite a bit of damage not only to me but to our relationship and as I have gotten older and much more mature I have realized that I don’t have to take that shit. Excuse the ghetto that just came out of me but it is the truth.

Moving on, I already have my Bachelors of Arts in Liberal Studies from Cal-State Dominguez but what the hell am I going to do with that? Now that the job market is messed up I need to do something that is practical and that I will not have to worry about the field coming to an end. And it is painstakingly clear that people with legal problems are never going to go away and there is such a wide range of law to work around in, I figured why not? I did at one time want to be a lawyer, which is still a dream that I may pursue, and I already work at a law firm so again, why not?

So, where was I? Oh yes, so I work as a legal assistant at a Disability law firm. I have been there for a little over two years and I feel that it is time for some advancement. Between being the sole provider for my household AND paying off my student loans, I most definitely need to upgrade. It is unfortunate that I am the only African American, black person, Negro, whatever the politically correct term for a person of African descent is that works at the firm. Everyone else is either Mexican, or white and there is that lone Asian that ironically works in accounting. I have good report with everyone, or in laymen’s terms, it is pretty chill. I actually enjoy working in a professional environment. My pay is salary based and not hourly; I know that everyone here has some formal degree of education or training and my benefits package is nothing to complain about: full medical and dental coverage, 401K, a free gym membership to 24 Hour Fitness (which I have yet to use) and access to a company owned time share in Lake Tahoe.

Stepping off of my last train, it is now almost six in the morning and my REAL shift does not begin until 9, but I have to do what I have to do so I guess I should not complain. The walk is a long 15 minutes and I say long because each block is a stretch. The sun has yet to fully peek over the horizon; the early shades of blue are barely breaking through the still darkened sky. The air is crisp, clean and ridiculously chilly. Granted, it is still in the middle of winter (early January) and I do prefer the cold but as I expressed earlier, it is Monday and I would have still loved to lay in the bed for an extra hour. My toes have lost all feeling due to the freezing temperature, but once I am inside the building and can relax and enjoy the warmth and comfort of the heater, my toes will be just fine.

Throughout the course of my walk, I realized nothing has changed in this area. I see the same old abandoned buildings that squatters have taken control of; the streets are littered with trash and last night’s festivities; I see the same drunkard passed out on his favorite bus bench snoring peacefully; and the same homeless woman who has been on the streets for so long she has forgotten who she is. She reeks of a combination of smells; smells that are from her lack of care in her personal hygiene and just from living in the streets. She holds what appears to be meaningful conversations with herself as there is no one who is physically there to entertain her. There have been days where it was quite clear that whoever she was talking to had pissed her all the way off and as I am a couple of blocks away from her I could still hear her voice ranting and shouting at the top of her lungs at this invisible manifestation of her outrage. My heart goes out to her, and today is not any different.

As I finally approach the building where I work I quicken my pace because it is a little after six and I need as much overtime as I can get, but just as I open the door to enter the five story building my phone buzzes. It’s a text message from King. It read, “What time are u off?” It takes everything in me to not reply with something nasty but instead I swallow my anger and reply,” 6. Why?” He does not answer me back and at this point I could care less. It is a damn shame that at six in the morning I already have an attitude so I turn my Samsung Galaxy III off and toss it back in my bag. I acknowledge the overweight security guard who sits at his desk in the lobby with a quick,” Good morning” and make my way over to the ladies room to put on the black pumps that I purchased from Target. The shoes add an additional four inches to my already 5’7” height. My black slacks are slimming and my favorite white gold buttoned blouse makes me feel a bit better about myself. Here at work, I keep my black shoulder length black hair pulled back in a neat little bun and since I wear no make-up I take pride in keeping my cocoa brown skin healthy looking. I do one last once over in the mirror, apply some Chap stick and even though by no stretch of the imagination am I fat, I remind myself that maybe it is time that I use that free gym membership. Then I make my way to the elevator, press the button for the fifth floor and prepare to start my day. Monday mornings are truly a bitch. Let’s hope that the rest of the day is not.

If you are interested in the rest of the story download it on Smashwords. Here is the link to my profile: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/465611