Spoiler: Love At Last….#Him

Chapter 6

Him

It had been two weeks since me and King’s fall out. I only went back to the apartment once and that was when I knew for sure he was not there. My brother had come with me to collect the rest of my things: my clothes, personal paper work such as my car insurance policy, and that was basically it. He could have it ALL. I am just so ready to move on with my life and to start anew. I mean, don’t get me wrong, in the two weeks that King and I have been apart, I did miss him-terribly. The night that I left, King called me so much that I had to turn my phone off just to get some peace. The first twenty voicemail messages he left were basically him begging for me to come home. “Baby I’m sorry”, “So when are you going to come home”, and “I miss you”, you know the usual. The same thing went with the fifty plus text messages he sent and all of them went ignored. I did not speak to him until three days later, after I had cried and vented to my mom and my brother so much that I was beyond exhausted. I even called out of work for a couple of days because I just could not pull it together. Kendra had even called, and like King’s her calls went unanswered. I will deal with her in due time. My mom did tell me that Kendra did come by, but since I was finally sleeping so peacefully, she did not want to disturb me. But, like I said, I will deal with her in due time. Patience has always been my virtue.

So here I am back at work and trying to get back into the full swing of things; but as a single woman. I no longer feel like I have to work for two people. I do not have to come in super early to squeeze in some overtime. I can sleep at night, peacefully without having to deal with King and his insomnia issues. I do not have to deal with King at all…Sitting in front of my computer screen struggling to concentrate on imputing the client’s information into the system, it is hard to digest the fact that I am…free. Free from King and all of his drama. Free from tears and burrowed resentment. Free to be who I am. Free to…just then my line rings. “Lender’s Disability, this is Danielle speaking. How may I help you?” I say clearly and confident into the receiver. Damn, even my confidence has went up. “Danielle, this is King”. My heart drops. Of course King would call me at work. “What is it?” I say. God this man just refuses to leave me alone. “So you are just not coming home, huh?” That was not really a question. It was more of a demand. “And why should I King?” “Look I was wrong. We can work this out. We have been together for five years, Danni” (now he is using my nickname…typical but not going to work). I roll my eyes wishing that I could be somewhere else doing something else-anything but being in this moment, having this conversation. “And what does that mean?” I ask. “There is nothing to work out.” “So what after one little fight you’re just willing to throw everything away?” King replied. By the way he sounded, he seemed a little…hurt. “You threw everything away every time you lied to me…every time you” (I whispered into the receiver so that no one could hear what I had to say next) “slept with other bitches and especially when you put your hands on me King. You blamed me for everything that went wrong in your selfish little world and-““Baby I’m sorry…” He croaked. “Yes King you are sorry. And I bet the only reason why you are even putting this much effort into bringing me back is because you have no idea how you are going to pay the rent on your own this month.” There was a pause. “Man fuck you then Danielle. I don’t need your stupid ass anyways-“There was something in those words fuck you that made me see pure red. This was the last time he was going to utter those words to me ever again. “Good. Because after tomorrow I am removing my name from the cable, the lights, the gas AND that lease. Have a nice life King.” And, with that I disconnected the call. Suddenly, I felt a massive headache coming on so I reach into my bottom drawer and pull out a bottle of Advil that I keep on hand for moments like these. I get up and walk a few steps over to the communal water cooler, grab one those itsy-bitsy Dixie cups and fill the cup with water. Just as I pop my pill and take a seat, Martha, the firm’s receptionist who was also a charmingly vibrant older woman with an infectious Colgate smile, tanned skin and blue eyes approaches my desk. She had to be in her fifties but had such a youthful spirit, her age was the last thing anyone ever thought about. She wore her hair cut short in one of those Bob type styles and she recently died her hair this reddish brown color. Today she wore a yellow cardigan with matching wedge shoes and grey slacks. She wore a look of deep concern on her face. I force myself to smile. “Hey Martha. How are you?” She smiles back. “I’m ok Danielle, but the question is are you?” I raise an eyebrow, please don’t tell me King called and is harassing everyone in the building. “I’m fine. What’s going on?” She clears her throat before speaking. “There is a young man who keeps calling here looking for you. He told me his name was King. I think you should get back to him as soon as possible.” All I could do was shake my head. “Either that or file a restraining order against him.” “Thank you Martha, will do.” I turn and face the computer screen and pretend to be preoccupied with something of importance so that I won’t have to respond to the probing questions she has written all over her face. “Seriously Danielle, you should get a restraining order or at least tell that young man of yours to leave you the hell alone.” With that, Martha turned to go back to her desk. All I could do is rub my temples and pray that the day went on without any more King issues. But, like most things that have happened to me in my life, the thought alone was too good to be true.

The day went on without a hitch. King did not call me at all since and that was great. I just want to be done with the situation. After I punched out for the day and slipped my favorite bubble gum pink flip flops on, I begin my walk to the train station. I pull out my phone and my headphones so I would not have to be entertained by my thoughts that could easily turn depressing, and I guess I wasn’t paying much attention because I accidentally walk right into a young man who was exiting a tattoo shop. I dropped my phone while my headphones went flying in another direction. He and I both bend down at the same time to pick up my phone only to make a clumsy situation even clumsier. We bumped heads. “I am so sorry!” I shout, immediately straightening myself out. He hands me my phone. “It’s all good ma’. Are you alright?” I accept my phone and nod, “I’m ok. How about yourself?” Just then, our eyes meet and I do not want to sound cliché but there was a very strong connection. It was as if I knew him from somewhere, but where? I immediately brush off the feeling and scold myself for being so silly. Clearly we are not two star-crossed lovers. What I am is an emotional wreck and incredibly vulnerable and…those eyes, those slanted almond shaped eyes…”I’m good ma’. Hey you look real familiar do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. Couldn’t be…or could it? Stuff like this only happens to white people in movies. Maybe I’m trippin’…”No, don’t think so,” I say. I put my phone in my bag. I gotta get out of here, I think to myself. I think I am going crazy. “You seem like a nice person,” Mr. Slanted eyes says. “I am, or at least I try to be,” I reply. I check my watch. “Are you in a hurry? Where are you coming from?” “I uh, ummm I am coming from work…” “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be in your biz or nothing it’s just-“No, no it’s fine. You’re good.” I hate myself. I’m such a lame. “Oh ok cool.” My mind is telling me to leave and that I have enough issues (namely King) but my feet refuse to listen. “So, you were getting a tattoo?” I ask, wishing that I could think of something else more charming or witty to say just to keep us trapped in this moment for just a few minutes longer. “Oh no ma’ I was here earlier with one of my homeboys while he was getting tatted up and I lost my brand new IPhone 5 so I came all the way back here to see if anyone found it. I’m pissed off man.” He looked around and then back at me. “That sucks. Those phones are super expensive…you had insurance on it though, right?” “Yeah, but they was like, it’s gonna take 7-14 business days, so I am basically without a phone until then. Plus all of my contacts and pictures of my son…” In the dimming light I could see his frustration. “Well, again I am sorry about your phone. But, I really have to get going now. I still have a train to catch.” “Oh you’re catching the Redline?” he asked. “Uh yes…” “Oh, well would you mind if I walked you?” I was not sure what to do at that moment other than say, “I don’t mind”. And there it was. We walked a steady, even pace and during the first few minutes of silence I snuck peeks at him. He wasn’t very tall. As a matter of fact he was shorter than King. He was maybe 2 inches taller than me and I am 5’7”. He had a slim build and a medium brown complexion. His lips weren’t full, but they were nice, he was clean shaven even though his moustache and beard looked more like peach fuzz. But I just couldn’t get over his eyes. He must have caught me looking at him because then he said,” You look good too ma’”. I never blushed before, and black people (unless they are very light) do not blush, but I felt the blood rush to my face. I couldn’t help but respond with a cheeky grin. “I forgot to ask,” he goes on, “but do you have a man? I got so caught up in not letting you get away that I-““NO!” I did not mean for it to come out that way but it did. “I mean, no, no I don’t”. Then he and I just burst out laughing for seemingly no reason at all. We continue on with our walk. “So what’s your name?” I ask. Good Lord, I am actually nervous. I thought all sense of shame went out the window with King, but I guess not. “Trey,” he says. “And yours ma’?” “Danielle.” I don’t really understand the whole “ma’” thing, but whatever. He could call me “ma’” all he wants. “Danielle…” he breathes, “so what do you do Miss Danielle. You look real professional,” his eyes gloss over me as if he taking me in and storing me away in a mental rolodex…and then he sees my feet. Mind you I keep my feet pedicured so there is never any crust I need to be ashamed of but my bubble gum colored flip flops did look out of place with my grey slacks and black my black blazer with white tank. “Please don’t judge me,” I giggle, “But my shoes were killing me and I keep a pair of flip flops on me for after work.” He cracks a smile. “It’s all good. I get it. I have five sisters so I know how it is.” In that instance, the walls came tumbling down on both parts. We both opened up about our lives and what we had to deal with and what we wanted in the future. I briefly talked about King and I informed him that our relationship was over for good. He talked a little about his sons mother and what she was putting him through, and to me, she sounded like a piece of work. Of course, you can’t believe everything a person tells you because folks lie and because you typically hear only one side of the story. But, the woman did sound like she had a couple of screws loose. By the time we made it to the platform, I felt like I had known him forever. “So where do you get off at?” he asked. I told him the name of the stop and that I also have to transfer trains. “Damn ma’ you live that far?” I nod. It was strange. I didn’t want him to leave. I could have stayed on that platform all night just to be in his presence for a while longer. He must have read my mind because he says, “I will ride with you, and don’t worry about me being a stalker it’s just that it is late and a woman such as yourself has no business riding a train alone.” I thought I had died and went to Heaven. I have a hard enough time trying to get a man to open a door for me let alone ride a couple of trains with me just to see me safe. I didn’t know what to do or how to even react. “Thank you but you don’t have to do that. I’m a big girl, I do this daily.” “You need a car ma’.” He said. If it was not for the fact that he had already earned 1000 points in my book, I might have been offended. “I have a car. It’s parked at my last stop in the parking lot. I just hate driving the freeway.” If his jaws could have fallen to the floor, I am quite sure they would have. He seemed stunned. It was obvious he wasn’t expecting that. “Well I’ll be damned. Alright then,” he said. “But I am still going to ride with you and I will even walk you to your car.” Would it have been too much if I had kissed him right then and there? I feel like I am in a dream. “Sounds good…I could use the company”, was my reply.

The train ride, well to be specific, all three train rides had me in a bliss. On each train he sat on the seat nearest the edge, like he was protecting me from everything and everyone-and I never felt safer. He wore a black hooded sweater over some khakis, and black and white Nikes. The day had finally gave way for night and the air was borderline freezing. The evening rush was near its end and I found myself wishing that I had a time machine just so I could start the day over again and relive this magical encounter. Our conversation never ceased, even when we changed trains, it was like we were in our own world…truly an enchanted moment. By the time we had exited my last train and he escorted me to my car, I felt bad that he had traveled so far with me. I started to ask him if he needed a ride but as soon as my mouth moved to say a word he says,” Don’t worry about me ma’. My car is parked right over there at that tattoo shop.” “But I feel so bad that you traveled all this way with me and now you have go all the way back.” He shook his head. “It was worth it, believe that.” “At least let me drive you…” “I thought you hate driving the freeway?” He smirked “I do but-““No buts,” he said. “Unlock your car.” I hesitated for a moment. Fear began to creep in. Was this a set up? I do so against my better judgment and he walks along to the driver side and opens the door. “Get in.” I do as instructed and once I am inside, I say, “You forgot to ask for my number.” His smile is big…and beautiful. “I surely did. Damn ma’, you got a nigga all discombobulated. You got a pen and some paper? You know what happened to my phone”. I reach over into my glove compartment and find a pen and a pad. I write my number down. “Don’t lose this.” I tell him. Then I scold myself for sounding desperate. He laughs. “Trust me I won’t. Now, start your car. I’m not leaving until I see you drive off.” This man unknowingly scoured another two million points in my book. King who? I fasten my seatbelt and start my car. “I feel like I am saying goodbye to my best friend or something,” he chuckles. “Me too,” I say a little sad. “But look ma’ I’m going to call you. I never met a woman like you before…let alone ride three trains with her to her car. Be safe ma’.” “Goodnight Trey. I look forward to that call.” And with that I rolled up my window, reversed, and honked my horn as a final goodnight and I pulled away. And as I drove off I felt like I had just left that missing piece of me right there in the parking lot.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/465611

Spoiler: Love At Last…Meet Danielle.

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 5^th 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.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/465611

Nubia Rising: The Awakening Sample Chapter #5

Chapter 24

Standing next to the twenty something year old medical doctor, a former foreign exchange student from Germany made Lilith want to hit something. It took everything in her to not bite this man’s head clean off, but she forced herself to remain composed. For all of his intelligence, the bastard was as arrogant as they come and equally as stupid. He knew exactly who she was, for he was a descendant of the Astor family, a family whose existence had been based solely on the OFF; and whose founding father had met his untimely demise in the privacy of his Swiss Mansion. Lilith had killed him, and what a glorious death that was. And now, here she stood with his great-great-great-great grand- nephew? Just like his great uncle, he was foolish to think that she would allow him to sit at the highly coveted New World Order table. Yes, she was recruiting, but there was a certain standard of evil and deceit that she was looking for; and even though arrogance was attractive, it wasn’t enough. And as soon as she was done with him, he was going straight to an early grave.

They stood side by side next to one of the many hospital beds of a condemned New York asylum, where fifty of her “vampire” offspring laid unconscious and awaiting to be awakened. Due to his family’s influence, the young doctor had managed to keep city officials off of his back regarding his usage of an asylum that was no longer functional; and no one had dared to question what he needed all of the hospital equipment he had taken from several of the hospitals in the New York area in which he worked. The equipment mostly consisted of beds, monitors, IV bags, syringes, and things from the lab. The current “patient” that they were monitoring was a teenaged runaway: a tall strawberry blonde with green eyes and a sneaky grin. A wanna-be bad ass who at 15 who had run away from her drug addicted father and alcoholic mother of five. When Lilith found her, she had just finished dancing at an afterhours strip joint trying to earn a buck to feed herself when an overly intoxicated patron had snatched her as she was leaving and attempted to take what wasn’t rightfully his. The girl had put up a good fight, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade a six foot, two hundred pound drunken monkey whose idea of a good time included raping a minor. Lilith and Anastasia had been inside the club, surveying the scene and enjoying the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of lust, greed and other vices when Lilith had heard the girl’s cries. Lilith left Anastasia alone while she came out to investigate and at first looked on with excitement as the girl kicked and screamed and even bit the man. She even chuckled as he howled in pain, but something struck a chord in her as she watched the man’s anger intensify and as he proceeded to beat the girl until she was barely able to speak. And when the moment of truth came, when his pants were unzipped and the reason for this violent offense had slammed hard into its goal, Lilith decided enough was enough. She couldn’t wait to torment his soul for the rest of eternity. And one thing the mythology stories were right about was the fact that Lilith was a vengeful spirit, and she would see to it that this young girl would have her revenge. She emerged from the shadows and grabbed the man by the back of his neck and like a bag of trash she flung him into a nearby dumpster. She made sure to not throw him so hard that he would have died in the process but she made sure that he was hurt-bad. Lilith summoned Anastasia to come outside and once she did and saw the bloodied and beaten girl Anastasia cried out. Kneeling beside her and gently raising her head, Lilith examined the child and made the decision on just how the girl could get her revenge. “Do you want to exact revenge on the bastard who did this to you?” she said to the barely conscious girl, who mumbled something unintelligible. Lilith took that as a yes. “I can give you the power to become all that you want to be. You will no longer have to fear becoming the prey when you will become the predator. You will no longer have to fear being viewed as one of the weak, for you will be strong. No one will hurt you ever again. And when you are healed, I will personally bring you to this very spot where you will have the opportunity to kill the man with your own two hands who did this to you. Do you want my help?” The girl had not been able to fully answer because she passed out from the pain. Lilith glanced at Anastasia who was taken aback by Lilith’s rare display of mercy. “Why so shocked Anna?” Lilith mused. “I can be merciful…besides she would be perfect. This is a perfect recipe of disaster to make a perfect vampire. Revenge will give her purpose. And, she will have me to thank.” “So what shall we do with her?” Anastasia asked. “Hmmm,” Lilith began. “Well, her injuries are extensive and if I attempt to do a hell travel transport with her, her blood will make it very difficult if not impossible to make it through. Go get the car. We can’t take her to a human hospital because they will involve outside authorities and I am not in the mood to commit a serious massacre. I have other shit to do. I can heal her myself and then, well we shall have the first of my vampire army in hundreds of years…” A few moments later, Lilith heard a loud screeching noise as Anastasia pulled up to the curb, in an all black 2013 Mercedes Benz, and got out the car to open the side passenger door for the girl to go inside. Lilith lifted the girl with ease, and carried to her the car, in which she gently laid her against the cool leather seating and slammed the door.

And now, many months later, Lilith stared down at one of the many social outcasts she had turned into the living dead, boiling with silent rage that she couldn’t awaken them to wreak havoc on the human populations; nor implement her own strategic planning in preparation for the final battle against heaven. No, she had to put everything on pause until this whole Isis and the gods situation was taken care of. The entire company of hell was in an uproar, especially her “business partner”. He was growing impatient. His anti-Christ was ready to be put in place. He had spirits of all levels of hell influencing the humans; placing jealousy, larceny, hatred, lies in the hearts of man. From the very pits of Tartarus he spewed forth every disease imaginable, even creating new strains to affect generations of mankind; famine was beginning to run rampant, not only in the cursed dark continent of Africa but in other parts of the world too. He instructed some of the Fallen to go out into the world and implant lies that would appear to date back as far as the ancient Jerusalem days regarding the Messiah as was recently found in what is known as a missing book from the Bible, the Gospel of Judas. The unnamed one had been working tirelessly throughout the ages for since the First War in Heaven, when he and a hundreds of thousands of others were cast out; and now that the day was quickly approaching, the last thing any of them needed was a bunch of power hungry gods and goddesses challenging them, the Lords of Darkness for their positions. And if Isis and that mongrel of a husband of hers was successful in harnessing that Atlantean energy, well Lilith would be groveling at her feet again. Speaking of Atlantis, she still didn’t know much about it, which was why her babies would have to stay “asleep” until it was time. The Fallen were busy searching for the last remaining gods and exterminating them, hoping to appease the Beast. And what a beast that bastard was.

The dank darkness of the condemned asylum was a perfect hiding place for evil. The vibrations of the last group of tormented humans who, by medical standards had been declared “unfit” for society still permeated the air. She could still feel the ice cold tremors that fear provided; she could hear the echoes of screaming patients forced to endure lobotomies and other forms of torture in the name of medicine. Some of her favorite demons still patrolled the halls, existing in their true forms which was disfigured, and grotesque shapes. There were no windows in this particular section of the institution, which added to her favor. Now that these humans were fully turned vampires, even in their unconscious states, sunlight would incinerate them immediately. The doctor, ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair, while studying the clipboard in the other. Like his great-uncle, he was tall, standing well over six feet, with broad shoulders, and because he was a proud gym rat, his constant work outs left him with a well muscled and fit body; and if Lilith hadn’t been so busy with her own evil plans she might have taken him on as a lover. But then again, maybe not. That would have shot his ego into another world, and then she would have had to kill him prematurely. “Well everything looks good,” he said, still staring at the clipboard. “Their heart rates are much faster than a normal humans, and-“”And the transformation cannot be complete until they have had blood.” Lilith interrupted coolly. “Well, I can order a large shipment of blood packets,” the doctor replied and for the first time since they set foot into this place taking his eyes away from the clipboard and onto Lilith. As usual, Lilith was dressed to the “T” in an expensive black pants suit and matching Fendi heels. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a bun and of course her make-up as always, was perfect. Even though make-up wasn’t something she needed. He was impressed and could only hope that she was impressed with him and would save him a seat at that coveted table of hers. “They don’t need blood packets Alexander,” she said, examining her long red painted nails. “They need blood from an actual source. A living, breathing source. When the time comes, I need for you bring me at least a hundred warm bodies to feed my children.” Alexander stared at her in shock. His eyes widened in fear and disbelief at her demand. “A hundred victims? How the hell do you suppose I accomplish that?” “I don’t know,” Lilith said without an ounce of concern. “Figure it out. You are the doctor. Tell some of your patients that they have cancer and send them here for “treatment”.” Lilith laughed. “But-“”No buts, you want a seat at my table then prove it. Be grateful that I am at least giving you some time to figure it out and get it together. But I do need at least a hundred humans. I will call you when I am ready for the delivery.” And with that she turned on her heels and headed straight down corridor to the side exit. “Don’t forget to lock up!” she shouted behind her, leaving a very well respected doctor alone with 50 sleeping vampires.

Anastasia was waiting outside on the steps of the three story building that was once an asylum when Lilith emerged appearing to be pleased with the state of her affairs. “Now what my queen?” Anastasia greeted her, when Lilith had finally approached her. The sun was high up in the sky, even though the temperature was freezing. There was a soft blanket of snow left over from the other night, of course neither Anastasia nor Lilith were affected by it. “Well, cold weather does bore me,” Lilith began, winking at Anastasia who was dressed in her favorite 19^th century garb: peasant dress topped with a ragged petite coat and knee high boots. “You did do as I asked?” Lilith continued. “Yes milady, I did. The other nests are as they should be. Just awaiting your command.” Anastasia answered quickly. “Good. And have you managed to put a tracer on Trenton? I have not heard from that little scoundrel in days…not since he decided to rescue his matron of worship…” “No, I have not. But I theorize that he may be hiding in one of the many Osirin realms.” Anastasia concluded. “Hmph, I never thought about that. Well, where we are about to embark on, we shall have front row V.I.P. passes to a long awaited showdown that even I have been looking forward to for eons. And to think, I thought I was going to be the one to give Isis what she has long deserved, but hey, clearly I cannot have everything.” Lilith snapped her fingers and a large yawning opened up right in the middle of the sidewalk. Hellfire, and sulfuric ash spewed forth, followed by a consuming darkness filled with screams of pain and terror. Anastasia gave Lilith a look of unease causing Lilith to smirk. “Get over yourself Anastasia. This is much faster. But before we go on I am commanding you as my most favored servant to not attack or thwart the efforts of ANY of the Destroyers while we are on this little rendezvous. Especially Sage. We might even have to, how shall I put this, AID them to ensure that Isis’ demise is successful. Now is not the time for revenge. Got it?” Anastasia’s eyes flickered with a hint of pure fury and betrayal, but she was not foolish enough to say one word. Lilith stared at the witch, noting the slight flash of fury that rolled through to her core. “You know, it is very easy to lose my favor,” Lilith threatened. “And very difficult, if not impossible to win it back.” Lilith leaned in closer until she was literally a breath away from Anastasia’s piercing blue stare. “Don’t lose my favor Anastasia. You will have your moment of revenge.” Anastasia lowered her head before responding her usual ”Yes, milady”. Lilith smiled. “Good. Now how about I buy you a couple of bikini’s to wear on the sandy beaches of the Bermuda? I hear it is hot this time of year and I am tired of seeing you dressed like a frumpy old woman when you are one of the last great beauties to ever exist in the last 300 years. Shall we?” Lilith stepped aside to allow Anastasia to enter the Hell portal first, who this time didn’t hesitate. Lilith quickly joined her, sealing the portal up behind them. There was only a few hours left until the full moon, and hopefully if everything goes well, Lilith hoped that this would be the last full moon Isis ever laid her eyes upon.

Nubia Rising: The Awakening Sample Chapter #4

Isis slammed through the atmosphere like a nuclear war head. She and the rest of the few hundred gods and goddesses were on a mission. After Zeus had taken her, Athena, Ma’at and later on Durga to Mount Olympus, it was there she discovered that was the only place close enough to the heavens for what was left of a long running era of godhood to seek refuge. She had no idea that this place had still existed; or at least what was left of it. She had only been to Olympus once in her entire existence and that was during the first beginning of mankind, which was some time before the Flood. Located well beyond the mountain peak of Greece, conveniently named after the kingdom of the gods, for generations it had been an oasis of splendor and indulgence. Solid gold Roman relief pillars atop gloriously built Roman styled architecture surrounded by magnificent gardens underneath a clear blue sky. Pools of crystal clear water where the last remaining water nymphs basked in all of their naked glory, completely unashamed of their ethereal beauty; and where Aphrodite had entertained many of her male suitors from both the heaven and the earth realms. Now, all that remained were the pools with the crystal clear water that had once been marked as the site of pure pleasure. Mount Olympus had fallen into a desolate state that reminded Isis of the Underworld, the Afterlife as her people had called it. No longer were there green pastures, or vineyards that stretched on for miles. The only thing that had withstood the obvious onslaught that had taken place was Zeus’ palace, which was an exact replica of the Temple of Zeus on earth. The only difference between the earthly one and the one in which Zeus resided, was that this one was constructed from pure marble, while the humans who had constructed their version used limestone and stucco. “What happened?” She had asked upon arrival. “We were under siege,” Zeus informed her. “Our fathers are angry. Tartarus has opened, which means that those that haven’t been extinguished by Kitara’s sword or simply faded away into nothingness will be captured and dragged down to the very pits of Tartarus to face a horrific death. Several of them, our fathers appeared bringing hellfire and brimstone and brandishing weaponry that even I had yet to see and slaughtered many of us, while others were captured. Most of us were able to escape, but those that weren’t…”Zeus had looked away, sadness melting away that stone expression he normally carried, exposing a vulnerability that Isis was sure he had not wanted her to see. “I have never experienced anything like this since the days of Cronos…” “I remember Cronos…a titan. You were very brave then. I remember you had called upon Osiris to render assistance but later on you found out you didn’t need his help.” “Ah yes,”Zeus said. “Defeating Cronos had been the high point of all of our existences. At the time, we had all thought that defeating the titans and sending them into the very pits of Tartarus would be the end of any threat to us gods; that we could live on and wallow in the worship of humans for eternity. We never believed that our fathers would turn us like they have and for what? What is worth immortality when immortality has an end? Now we have to flee like vermin. And what makes this all the more infuriating is that at least humans, despite their obvious short comings, and their desires for pleasure and inflicting pain and misery on each other, there has always been someone or something that they could pray to; to look to for guidance and assistance during the time of need. Humans are far more blessed than we are. All we have is immortality at the end of the day. They have something else we don’t have.” Isis looked at Zeus, confused and wondering where all of this was coming from. She couldn’t help but ask ,”And what is that?” Zeus turned to look at her. “Hope. They have hope. And a chance for redemption. Because of who and what we are, redemption is not something we can dare to ask for let alone dream of.” “We WILL survive this.” Isis said emphatically. “That is something we have yet to determine. The only reason why you are even here, still standing among us Isis is because of the knowledge that you possess, just so we are clear. That long awaited fight with Kitara that you took to the public has set a series of irreversible events in motions and you triggered something that was not supposed to happen…at least not now. We were supposed to fight on the side of our fathers when the time came against those who seek to destroy us. And now, as we sit on the edge of extinction I can only hope that you now understand the damage that you have caused and what is at stake. I hope that what you have said is not a lie and that there will be no more acts of betrayal from you. Now, go to the last remaining pleasure pool and recharge yourself there. I will address everyone that is left. As soon as the sun is completely set, we have to act. We don’t have much time.” And with that Zeus left Isis standing in the middle of what had been considered the most beautifully constructed palace in history, alone with her thoughts. And now as she and the two hundred or so gods and goddesses left, came down hard on humanity, causing natural disasters and leaving chaos and turmoil in their paths, they rode hard from all four corners of the earth towards a battle that they knew most of them were going to surely lose. Poseidon, Hades, Thor, Selene, Dahaka, Athena, Balor, just to name a few all from varying ancient cultures who had managed survive the test of time, sent down hail, bolts of lightning, erupted “sleeping volcanos”, sending humanity into a fearful frenzy. Poseidon, king of the oceans, rose from the seas causing multiple tsunamis drowning small islands across the Atlantic and into the Pacific. Isis sent black lightning bolt charges down, decimating farmland and crops, buildings, highways collapsed as she blew through bridges with powerful gusts of wind. She was going to succeed, even if it meant she used every ounce of strength that she had. It was now or never. Just as the gods approached the outskirts of the White House, the whirlwind of chaos they were creating ceased. It was as if there was a collective knowledge that this earthly version of Olympus, was to remain untouched, and that is when Isis realized that they possibly have made a very foolish and fatal mistake. “This is a very large hell mouth”, she said dryly. “This place is heavily guarded by our father’s minions. If we make ourselves visible, in light of recent events,” Isis said nervously. “They know we are here. We just cannot destroy this unholy architecture. It sits directly on top of a pentagram from which our fathers draw some of their power,” Athena said, having appeared next to Isis. “It has its own barrier to which none of us can cross.” “Our brethren grow impatient,” Zeus said, appearing out of the ether. “It is now or never. This city, just as that Potential is ours for the taking!” “I don’t think so!” came a familiar and quickly approaching voice from behind them. In a menacing ball of white light, blasting across the sky, neither Zeus, Athena or Isis had enough time to react as Kitara slammed into them, knocking them out of the sky, sending them spiraling down to the earth. They hit the earth with a large impact, leaving an eight foot deep crater in the middle of a busy street. Kitara was up and out in an instant with Isis hot on her heels. People rushed out of their houses, and from the local business establishments to see what the hell just happened. And with the now visible Athena and Zeus staggering to their feet, the atmosphere became thick with panic. The other Destroyers, Sage, Naomi and Celeste emerged from their own energy folds into the panic stricken crowds. Police and fire sirens rang in the background, as Naomi immediately went to work on one of the demonic deities from ancient cultures. He was as grotesque looking as they come with his bulging large eyes, green scaly skin and multiple arms and legs. With her mighty Sword of Babylon in her grip she went to work, slicing off apendages and eventually decapitating him. How are we going to completely destroy these demons without Oblivion? If someone starts praying over this creature again, he could rise. Naomi said mentally to Kitara who was busy blocking Isis’ black bolt blasts. Just fight. You put down Osiris with that same sword and he hasn’t been called forth yet. They are all nothing bust distractions anyways. I have to put down Isis, Kitara mentally shot back to her. Zeus and Sage were going to blows, Zeus having gained the upper hand having yanked Sage by her thick red hair and flung her through the window of a local coffee shop. The patrons ran out screaming in terror while one of the baristas kneeled down by the semiconscious slayer and tried to render assistance by taking one of the clean cloths she used to wipe the tables to apply pressure on her bleeding forehead. “You’re gonna be alright,” the 20 something brunette said. “Help is coming.” Sage moaned in response. “Sage!” both Celeste and Naomi cried out, but both were too busy fighting off a string of deities who had turned their attentions to the fleeing humans. Celeste clapped her hands and instantly a portal opened up. “Help us!” she called into it as several Aztec and Incan warrior spirits dressed in their traditional warrior garbs emerged. All of them tall and very well built, with gleaming bronze skin and hardened expressions rushed into battle with their battle axes and bow and arrows onto the electrified streets of D.C.. Kitara still locked in battle with Isis who had increased in strength had decided to use her dark magic on the innocent human population. In between sending out dark lightning bolts at Kitara, she reached down and placed her hand on the frozen asphalt and summoned forth thousands of spitting cobras from the ground. Out of nowhere they appeared, angry and hissing; ready to attack anything as they slithered into the crowds of people. The screams of terror and chaos was deafening. Oblivion, what am I to do? She thought to her angelic friend as she sent out white light blasts in the direction of the snakes. She knew she could not allow herself to get too distracted, Jose and the rest of humanity’s life was at stake. Hold on Kitara. Michael is coming. Call on nature to help you. Kitara closed her eyes, focusing all of her energies inward. Michael is coming. Call on nature to help you, she heard Oblivion’s voice say again in her mind as the visual images of the crystal pyramid, hidden deep underneath the waters of the Bermuda triangle, that white light source of infinite power. It was a part of her; coursing through her veins; she could feel the white hot intensity ignite at her core. She could feel all of her Chakra points light up, her irises turning platinum silver. Her long thick locks levitating off of her shoulders as she began to ascend. “Sage!” she heard her sisters cry out. She could feel the destruction the gods were wreaking over the city. Buildings burned as people flocked to the streets for cover; several of the most wicked deities such as Balor and Thoth had captured several humans, having had them bound and gagged preparing to take them down beneath the earth’s crust for several rounds of torture. Police and various other agencies of law enforcement had taken the streets, making futile attempts to shoot down what could not die in the physical sense. “Somebody please help us!” a woman carrying a small child screamed as she ran from another one of those strange looking goddesses with multiple arms and a menacing long tongue. “Kali,” Kitara grumbled underneath her breath. Naomi, however was the case, in hot pursuit of one of the oldest and longest lived deities in the world, Sword of Babylon raised, righteous indignation and rage combined with the adrenalin rush that fueled her. Naomi was a blur; she was the wind in the air, the chill of night, her eyes perfectly adapted to darkness she launched herself full throttle at the demon goddess, slicing off one of her many arms, bringing the goddess’ pursuit of the woman and baby to an immediate halt. Kitara saw all of this through her mind’s eye, as shr continued to draw strength from the remaining energy reserves from Atlantis. She wondered why she could never do this before, but then she quickly realized that had become entirely too dependent on Oblivion to get the job done. And then she saw Sage’s body being lifted into an ambulance, a brunette was with her, speaking to one of the EMT’s. Noooo, Kitara thought to herself. And that is when she snapped. Raising her arms to the heavens she sent up a massive white light beam that hit the sky with a sonic blast. Isis took the moment as an opportunity to escape. She could sense the Potential’s close proximity to one of those townhomes in the very short distance. Athena appeared next to her in an instant, her Greecian robbing flapping against the cold air. “Shall we?” Athena said with a smile. Isis said nothing more as they vanished into thin air making their way to Naomi’s house.

Kitara knew the instant Isis had disappeared, but Atlantis had taken over and she couldn’t stop what had begun. Against the darkness she was a living lighthouse, and that is when the gates of heaven literally opened up. A battalion of angels, beings draped in gold light poured out into the atmosphere by the thousands. A familiar face, the same face who first gave her his hand with a message from On High nodded in her direction, as they collectively unleashed a heavenly onslaught on the gods and goddesses who had spent eons turning humanity away from the truth. Zedkiel said nothing as he followed his brothers into battle, golden wings spread, shimmering against the darkness. It was amazing to finally see him in full battle mode. Using her mind’s eye she scanned what was going on down below, and there was nothing but pure chaos. Humans were running, and ducking for cover, but to their avail, there was nowhere to hide. The White House was on lock down, the streets were running rampant with terrified civilians and officers; gunshots rang about, cries for help deafened the series of honking of cars that rang throughout the city, and now that the state was in a state of panic, the military had been called to action. It broke Kitara’s heart to see several young men, of African descent get ripped apart by another Hindu deity of death, with a black tongue and yellow eyes, and rows upon rows of sharp teeth. And even after feasting off of all of that, the fiendish creature was still hungry for more. It tore her soul to shreds to see a young Hispanic woman get pulled by her ankles by a snake like deity from Aztec tombs, wrap it’s coils around her tightly. Its entire body was that of a python but it possessed the head of a human, who wickedly expressed a large toothy grin as it expanded its jaws to take a bite. The woman had already turned blue from lack of oxygen and was on the brink of losing consciousness when Michael the Archangel, unsheathed his sword and with one quick swing decapitated the demon, whose coils immediately unraveled from the young woman. Michael quickly scanned the young woman whose life energy had yet to leave her body before taking off into the air again after another goddess who had long ago escaped his grasp. It was a shame that these very special beings of light could not be seen by the human eye other than by those who possessed the gift of “sight” and even that was limited. To some, there was nothing but busy white and gold orbs of light, fluttering about the scene leaving ash and gook in their wake. To others, there were illuminated sillouhettes of extremely tall men with no defining features other than large stature, and wings. Kitara remembered Queen Dahiya telling her in one of her final moments that when the world was coming to an end, they would only be able to see the darkness before they could accept the light. Kitara had no idea what she meant by that until now. Just send an army helicopter buzzed by sending firestorm of bullets in her direction. The bullets that whizzed by melted away from her light, and she wondered how long she would remain tapped into the Atlantean energy source. The pilots looked at her stunned and confused as to what to do next. She mouthed the words, “Go, home” hoping that they would take the hint and retreat, to which of course they did. Dozens of wicked deities were destroyed that day, and Kitara was glad that she didn’t have to do it alone. Her sisters, with the exeception of one, did an amazing job of holding their own, and of course all praise and glory be to the One Above who always remained true and steadfast in His word. He said she would never be alone and she wasn’t. Zedkeil, after what seemed like an eternity appeared to her finally, covered in dirt and soot and said,” It is done. You have learned to harness the power that was once stolen from On High. There are only but a few that remain. Go.” And just like that he and his brethren ascended back into the heavens in a flash. Kitara allowed herself to let go of the power that took hold of her and she as she plummeted to the ground from hundreds of feet midair, one name quickly came to mind. “Isis!”

Nubia Rising: The Awakening Sample Chapter #3- Introducing…Oblivion

Sitting on high in the second ring of Heaven, she sat and watched the very first Destroyer smile for the first time in ages as she met with the wise queen. And so everything was coming to pass…everything except for her purpose, whatever it may be. To be the only female angel out of a countless number of males wasn’t easy. She was treated as if she was a rare and sacred scroll; however, there was nothing about her that she deemed worthy enough for all of this care and concern. She wasn’t a warrior like Michael or a messenger like Gabriel, or a healer like Raphael. She wasn’t wise like Raziel and she definitely wasn’t blasphemous like the unnamed one. During the First War in Heaven, Michael secreted her away in the third ring and told her to stay there until those who did not belong were casted out. She was not allowed to enter the earth plane for no reason whatsoever; not even to help the poor helpless humans who called out to the heavens every second of every minute.

She had had many talks with Gabriel about her existence and how her lack of purpose made her feel useless; and the sequestering didn’t make it any easier. Gabriel was always patient with her and understood her plight, and he would remind her that just because her purpose had not been revealed to her did not mean she was without one. She wished that she was brave like Michael and thought that maybe if she were, she could go into the earth plane and prove her worth, but the thought of battle frightened her. The only thing her Father told her was that it was not time yet and to just keep watch over the humans and when the time came, He would let her know. Oblivion was her name, and Raziel, during one of his rare appearances told her she was one of the universe’s best kept secrets whatever that meant. He refused to elaborate and simply went on about his business in the higher rings of Heaven. Michael would just smile warmly at her before pointing something out in the earth realm that she should pay attention to and then disappearing.

So much had occurred since the Creation of Man and the Fall of Man and now that a destroyer was finally on the planet, Oblivion was excited to watch how this young woman’s life would play out. Those demon-gods were surely in for it, and the unnamed one and his minions would be busy trying to come up with a counter attack. Mankind had already been plagued with physical diseases and illnesses, and a variety of spiritual attacks but with the gods ability to attack humans both physically and spiritually in a tangible way brought tears to her silver irises. Supernatural abominations were beginning to manifest into existence and wicked humans were tapping into spiritual realms that only the most brave and strong warrior angels could venture into. Everything was out of balance, but somehow that was a part of the Divine Plan.

She stood to her full ten foot height and stretched out her silver magnificent wings. She thought about her fallen brothers, not those who are now in league with the unnamed one but those that have taken refuge beneath the waters to avoid the final transformation from a heavenly being into a demon of darkness. She could feel the pain that they endured and hoped that their Father would forgive them. Unfortunately, all heavenly beings knew that once one fell from Grace there was no coming back. Ever. But, those that have decided to remain steadfast despite knowing the ramifications of their actions still held on to something that angels such as Gabriel and Raphael worked hard to restore on the earth plane: hope.

As Oblivion stood there in the ethereal planes, completely lost in her thoughts, one of the Seraphim, the most highly ranked of their kind approached her. Their light, being that they serviced the Most High directly was so bright that whenever they made appearances, they displayed themselves as nothing more than a glowing orb, because even another angel could not tolerate their normal presence. The Seraphim glimmered down to where she was faced to face with it; and in its voice which sounded like a thousand voices at once spoke to her with growing excitement. “It is almost time for your destiny to be fulfilled dearest one,” it said to her, its voice ominous with the sound of many. “You have been kept save here in the Heavens, barred from the earth realm with good reason. The Most High says that it is time for you to know the truth of who you are…”the Seraphim continued. “And what may that be?” Oblivion asked, confused and extremely intrigued and excited. In all of her milenia of existence, she was finally being called to action; to be of service, to be something more than just…her. “You are very special my dear and the Most High kept you heavily guarded for knowledge that had your existence been discovered before its time, the balance of Light would have been tipped to favor that of the darkness.” “But Seraphim,” Oblivion began, her silver eyes filling with silver tears. “How am I special? I am not brave like Michael, nor do I have special healing abilities like Raphael, and-“ “Ssssshhhhh, dear one you must not speak that way, especially given who you are. Everyone’s role is important and highly valued by The Most High; but He has made you in a way like no other. You are what your name says you are: Oblivion.” “And what does that mean?” The Seraphim at first said nothing. It appeared to be frustrated with her lack of understanding and self doubt. “You, along with the Destroyers are the Unnamed One’s worst nightmare. Inside you lies the power to destroy the immortal. Just as the sun rises to face the shadows in the east, Michael will escort you through Orion’s belt. There you will collect star that shines the brightest and cast yourself into it. Michael, then will from that star make the greatest sword known to the histories of creation and will then hand you, as the sword to the Destroyer, and you and she will do great things.” The Seraphim was so excited about her fate and its role in delivering the message that it was beginning to burn so brightly, Oblivion had to cover her face. “So I will become a sword…”she said flatly. “Ah yes,” the Seraphim continued to burn. “A living sword. You are a weapon. Your very design is to destroy darkness. No harm will come to you, but you my dear will smite all that come against the Destroyer.” “And what would happen should I fall into the wrong hands?” Oblivion asked softly. “Do not fret. The entire company of Heaven would come for you if that were to happen, but that will not come to pass. When not in the Destroyer’s possession you will remain invisible to the human world. Darkness will always be able to sense your presence because of the unnamed one’s genealogy, however, you cannot be destroyed. When on earth you will not be able to reveal your true self; only the Destroyer will know just what you are. You will be able to communicate with her and when she needs you, she will summon you. However, I must warn you Oblivion, while in the earth plane, you will be able to sense your fallen brethren-those that reside in the lost pyramid of Atlantis and by Heavenly Edict you are NOT to communicate with them whatsoever. Their verdict is still in question. Are we clear?” Oblivion nodded her head and with that the jovial Seraphim was gone.

Oblivion stood there, too many emotions she wasn’t used to flowed through her ethereal body like electricity. She was excited, frightened, confused, sad, and a number of other things, all at once. Time moved differently in Heaven than it did on earth; so she wasn’t sure exactly when Michael was coming for her, so she unfolded her silver feathered wings with a wingspan of 10 feet and stretched them out. Perhaps she and the Destroyer could be good friends…Friends. That was something she had always wanted to experience. Michael, Gabriel, Zedkiel…they were not her friends, though she loved them dearly. They were her brothers and her protectors. Maybe she and the Destroyer could talk about things, other than Heavenly affairs; things like their favorite colors and sounds and what they liked most about the earth. Maybe she could teach her things about the earth and what it’s like to be what she is…or maybe she could just be that friend that gives good advice. Oblivion smiled at the thought. She couldn’t wait for her favorite Archangel to return. She was finally needed.

Nubia Rising: The Awakening Sample Chapter #2

Chapter 7

With a sigh of relief Celeste watched Jose return to his parked car and after a few minutes of nothing, drive off. She smoothed her silky straight jet black hair into a loose pony tail and leaned back in the drivers’ seat of her 2013 Mercedes Benz. She had been tracking Ixtab for centuries but that she-demon was as elusive as they come. In many ways she felt like a failure; however as it had already been explained to her the night her people had “vanished” into thin air, hunting gods was something that was completely out of her range. Yes she had the skills to fight them off, for she had battled many of them, however it always felt like a form of defeat because it would always end in a draw. She did not possess the sword of Oblivion, nor did she have the strength and the know-how to match. She always felt helpless when a human fell under the enchantment of one of those entities because the only sure way to severe the influence was to kill them, and that she simply could not do. She had felt Ixtab’s dark energy surrounding the Golden Gate Bridge since its construction in the 1930’s. She and Naomi were already out of the vehicle, weapons ready to engage in battle with Ixtab to save the young man’s life when Kitara burst through the sky like a falling star. Neither she nor the rest of the Destroyers had been able to locate Kitara in over 500 years after the Incan god Supai trapped her in one of the many volcanoes near the Andes River where children were sacrificed in his honor. Unfortunately, it was all a ruse to incapacitate the slayer. There were too many children for her to rescue all at once and by the time Celeste, a newly transitioned Destroyer and Syrene made it to render assistance, Supai, caused the volcano to erupt, killing all 100 children instantly and entombing the Destroyer at the same time. For many years, Celeste, Syrene, Naomi, and Sage tried every possible way of freeing Kitara, but to no avail. They knew she was alive, however based on the telepathic messages she would send to them, Celeste knew that Kitara could have easily freed herself, but the tremendous amount of grief and guilt at her failure to rescue those children consumed her. After a century, she stopped communicating altogether with the other Destroyers. Celeste and Sage had gone to that very volcano hundreds of times in hopes of convincing her that the world still needed her and the only answer they would receive was silence. The last time Celeste went to the volcano was 50 years ago and that’s when she realized that the volcanic peak was under excavation. She remained hidden in the shadows, waiting to come to Kitara’s defense when needed, and after a few hours it had dawned on her that Kitara was not there. The archaelogists and excavators were all busy with their work and had managed to dig deep into the caverns only to find the mummified remains of the children used for sacrifice. Sage had suggested that Kitara may have sought refuge in the Atlantean pyramid that was located at the bottom of the Bermuda Triangle. None of the other Destroyers had been to the Pyramid. Ever. They all knew of its history and their connections to it, but from what Syrene had said, only Kitara could enter.

Fast forward to the scene on the bridge with Ixtab luring the poor human to his death, Celeste nor Naomi were ready for what had happened next. Kitara came bursting through the sky and put Ixtab out of her misery for good. The human was left in one piece and now Celeste and Naomi sat in wait for the others to arrive. Once they sent out a mental SOS to Syrene and Sage, informing them that Kitara was back, it was evident that everyone was relieved, and ready for battle. So much had transpired in Kitara’s absence, and even though they all battled the evil forces of the supernatural to the best of their abilities, they needed Kitara as much as the world did. Isis had risen over thirty years ago and was back to her old tricks. She had now taken position as a super star recording artist and used the magic of music to influence and gain worshippers. Since the fall of the ancient empires such as Greece, Rome, Egypt, Mayan, Aztec, and the like, the gods were no longer seated on thrones of worship. Thanks to Kitara when the gods fell, so did their civilizations and without prayers and sacrifices, they grew weak. Isis managed to find another platform of worship-and that was through entertainment. Celebrity worship has become ridiculous, on top of secret occults built on amassing power for global domination; the axis of evil had opened the gates of hell and demonic influences from the basic levels of demon had increased dramatically. The gods were returning to the forefront, hoping to rule over the humans as they did in the days of old. Isis had a clear cut plan to raise Osiris which was evident in the young male rapper/consort she was now seducing. Lilith was back which meant in time there would be an increase in demon populations and half breeds like during the time of the Nephilim. The human population was in trouble.

As Celeste reclined in the driver’s seat, her thoughts refocused on that young man. She felt the spirits of death surrounding him; taunting his spirit by assuming the form of his dead mother and pushing him to take hold of the noose that hung from the sky and hang himself. She witnessed this moment hundreds of times and most of those times she had been successful in defeating those fiendish spirits and preventing the person from taking that long walk over the short edge, but today she knew that if Kitara had not appeared when she did, Jose would have not made it. Ixtab was more than a spirit; and for a person such as her, who possessed the gifts of a true Spirit Walker, to go against a god was like taking a knife to a gun fight.

What she found most interesting was Ixtab attacking the boy herself. Usually it would be her minion who would do the job, but from what she gathered, Ixtab had been after him for years. Celeste needed to know more. And just why after all of these centuries would Kitara all of a sudden awaken and come out of hiding? Celeste was almost certain when Isis was foolishly released from her cryptic prison by that archaeologist 31 years ago, that energy alone would have drawn Kitara out. Yet it did not.

Naomi sat next to Celeste in passenger’s side quietly surveying the scene. Traffic was light, despite the day’s events of a couple of car collisions, and a thwarted suicide attempt. It was always intriguing to watch humanity go on and move forward with their day to day living without as much as a thought toward to inevitable cycle of life and death. To be a part of the mindless masses again was something Naomi did not want to think about. She quickly glanced at Celeste who too was lost in her thoughts. She had reclined her seat and laid back with her slanted eyes closed. Naomi pushed a stray strand of her thick mane of curly black hair from her cocoa brown face and sighed. The others should be here shortly, being that none of them used the “traditional” methods of travel, particularly during a crisis.

Out of all of the Destroyers, Naomi was the most restless. Celeste chalked it up to it being that vampires were no longer being mass produced, Naomi was essentially “out of work”. She would assist the other Destroyers in their missions of demon hunting but there was nothing like going up against a vampire. Back in the days of old when vampires damn near eliminated the human race, and when witches were trying to take the place of the gods in the supernatural hierarchy of evil, Naomi, Syrene and Sage had been a trinity to be reckoned with. There wasn’t a night when Naomi’s glorious sword of Babylon hadn’t been in use. Kitara would make appearances from time to time whenever their paths would cross, but just before the days of the last Egyptian Pharoah and when the Celtic winds no longer blew to the call of the North, vampires and witches had been a plague. Nowadays, vampires were so sporadic and on the rare occasion Naomi came across one, they were so weak it wasn’t worth breaking a sweat. Centuries ago when witches were at their strongest, vampires were hard to kill. And Naomi loved a challenge.

She adjusted her lava colored tank top and unhooked her seatbelt. The advances in transportation technology had been slow according to Naomi. But, when someone is blessed with the ability to manipulate the shadows and move through dimensions like it’s a simple stroll in the park, operating an automobile was similar to riding a camel. “What is the hold up?” Naomi grumbled. “Perhaps they had to engage in battle?” Celeste reasoned. And that was the end of the conversation for the next few minutes. Silence seemed like a much better companion to both of them. Sage was the first to appear from a foldaway of nothingness right there in front of the car. Naomi cursed. “I keep telling her not to do shit like that where people can see her.” Celeste sighed. “Discretion is not exactly her specialty.” Sage, totally oblivious to Naomi’s stare of disapproval rounded the car, tossing her flaming red hair carelessly over her shoulder and opened the door, taking a seat behind Naomi. “Ahh ladies it has been too long,” she said, her Celtic accent thick and cheerful. Her emerald green eyes bright with excitement. “It is good to see you too Sage,” Celeste turned to face her and smiled. “Yes Sage. It is always a pleasure.” Naomi said flatly. “Ay, isn’t it exciting that Kitara has returned?” Sage asked. Celeste and Naomi simply nodded. Sage continued to fill the car with mindless chatter about her travels and her enthusiasm for a new male suitor that she rescued from the clutches of a large coven of witches that taken root in Louisiana. Naomi cringed at the story even though none of them were ever told that they could not fall in love, but being that they were pretty close to being immortal it made no sense to even attempt to cultivate any type of meaningful romantic relationship. Falling in love wasn’t a part of the Divine Plan; at least that was how Naomi felt.

It was another thirty or so minutes before Syrene was spotted approaching the car. She wore her thick straight midnight hair high above her head in a huge bun, with black Chanel sunglasses covering her sandy brown eyes. She was covered in a trench coat and thigh high boots giving the image of conspicuously inconspicuous. Syrene was a vision and regardless of where she went and what she had on, people stared. Naomi had overheard people tell her a countless amount of times that she resembled the actress Zoe Saldana with her light brown smooth as silk skin tone and delicate features and petite body. Syrene never paid the compliments any mind and would rather spend time slicing demon guts than looking at herself in the mirror. She slid into the car and removed her glasses. “Sorry it took so long ladies. I was in the middle of tracking Kitara’s energy signature when I got the mental SOS. She has been around for a while but for some reason she had been eluding us.” Sage stopped smiling. “But why? We need her.”

Naomi simply closed her eyes and sighed. The revelation somehow wasn’t so shocking, even though it still felt like a knife to the chest. They were all Destroyers; a select group of female warriors with the purpose of restoring the world back to its original balance of light, which in a sense made them into a sisterhood. They had all fought together at some point. They had all cried together, ate together, argued, and all had suffered tremendous loss. They all sat in silence, allowing the information to sink in and wash through them and after what seemed like an eternity Celeste spoke. “Syrene, when did you realize that Kitara was avoiding us?” All eyes turned to face Syrene who maintained nonchalant and slightly disengaged from the situation. “I think we all know that Kitara can take care of herself. When Supai trapped her in the volcano with all of those children, I think he knew she would survive and those children would not. I think he knew that even though physically he couldn’t damage her, but knowing that she could not rescue all of those children would damage her psyche…and he was right.” “But that still doesn’t make sense,” Sage said angrily. “Kitara disappeared for 500 years! No sign of her anywhere. I think we all searched every nook and cranny of this cursed planet and we couldn’t sense her.” “That doesn’t mean that she wasn’t around. She simply didn’t want to be found,” Naomi breathed. “Well clearly she wants to be found now being that she came out of hiding and rescued that boy on the bridge,” Celeste added. “How long have you been tracking her Syrene?” “I picked up on her trail maybe a year or so after Isis awakened. I was over in Vatican City tracking this demon who had plans on infiltrating the Pope when I felt her pulse. She was near. I stopped going after the demon and followed her pulse to the Island of Patmos where she disappeared again.” “And why didn’t you tell us about it?” Naomi frowned. “Because at the time both you and Sage were possessed with going after Isis and because I think she didn’t want to be forced to face any of us…” Syrene argued. “And how long have you been tracking her?” Celeste said. “Off and on for the last 30 or so years.” It was clear that emotions were on high in the car. Celeste said nothing more and turned to face the window. Naomi was so angry she could spit flames and Sage couldn’t do anything other than allow tears to stream down her lovely face. Syrene sat back in her usual cool and aloof demeanor. “To hold something that serious back from us Syrene does not sit too well with me and I don’t care what you say,” Naomi growled. “You knew all this time that Kitara was out and about and you said nothing-“ “I was just respecting Kitara’s space,” Syrene replied cool as ever. “I could have sworn there was an unspoken agreement that whenever any of us become privy to information such as that that we inform one another. I always knew you were the secretive type but never to the point where I cannot trust you. I will not speak for everyone else but I have the feeling that there is much more to the story than what you are telling and if I discover that there is any deception on your part in regards to Kitara or any one of us Syrene I will figure out a way to-“ “Lets not go there Naomi,” Celeste interrupted. “We all are a little on the edge right now. There is so much going and so much we need to discuss and figure out and we do not need you two drawing your blades on each other. That is what the Unnamed One wants, to divide and conquer. Now lets squash this spirit of dissention and move forward so we can find Kitara and do what we do best. And Syrene I think all of us are a little upset with you but I’m leaving it at that. So for now let’s agree to not fight until this mess could be sorted out. Comprende`?” Syrene simply rolled her eyes and put her sunglasses back on and laid back against the cool leather seating. Naomi said nothing else. Sage shook her head and turned to look idly out of the window. Celeste slid the key into the ignition and started the car. “Now, I think we need to find that boy. I don’t know why but I feel a strange connection to him and I need to figure out how.” “Maybe it’s love,” Sage chuckled. “Or lust,” Syrene added. Celeste smiled. “No ladies, it is neither. The good news is that we know Kitara is back which means Isis will be on high alert and what is the name of that rapper she is consorting with? I saw their picture on the cover of Time Magazine.” “That is Young Ra also know and Trenton Miller and he has been dabbling in all types of dark arts for years and has now captured the attention of our beloved Isis. He has death demons completely surrounding him.” Syrene said. “But we know you can handle that part right?” Celeste grinned. “Hell yeah! Havent had a good fight with a death demon in years, elusive sons of bitches they are. Strong as shit too, but nothing I cannot handle.” “And Sage,” Celeste cooed. “Yes my beloved Spirit Walker,” Sage chirped. “You know that Isis was once known as the goddess of magic so you know covens are brewing and vying for her special attention.” “Ay milady yes, and I was meaning to tell you that our dearest Lilith was in the mix too, posing as a maid servant for the high priestess. I saw her on tv last night on some red carpet event on E! and she interviewed with my dream man Ryan Seacrest talking about some clothing line she was working with Young Ra on.” She is drawing the other gods out back into the forefront,” Celeste added. “Something big is coming and people are speculating that a lot of the high powered celebrities and politicians are all involved with a secret group called the Illuminati. But what trips me out the Illuminati is just the center of all this, there are dozens of other secret groups out there dedicated to satanic and pagan worship with the goal of forming the New World Order. Isis is at the center of it all. Naomi, you and Kitara come from very similar kingdoms from the days of old. Do you have anything you would like to add?” Naomi had silently retreated into her thoughts. For some reason, she still didn’t trust Syrene, and truthfully never really had. Celeste was right about everything but there was something that she should know. “We all know I come the days of Cleopatra, that wicked queen she was. And you are right about everything, but you forgot to add one thing. If you are familiar with Egyptian myths and legends, Isis raised Osiris once after Seth had killed him and cut his body into several pieces and scattered them across the four corners of the earth. Well, Kitara killed him but she didn’t use the Sword of Oblivion; she had used my Blade of Babylon which is a final death for vampires; and gets the job done on most demons but for deities such as Osiris, well there is a loophole. Isis thinks that Kitara killed him with her sword, but in the moment she had no other choice but to use mine.” Celeste took the key out of the ignition. All of the women sat in the car in slack jawed silence. “What?!” Syrene exclaimed. “Kitara killed Osiris with my blade and not the Sword of Oblivion which means there is a chance that Isis could bring him back. The only issue is Isis may not know and the only one outside me and Kitara who does is the last one any of us would want privy to that information…” “And just who may that be?” Sage asked. “Lilith.” The silence that followed was similar to that after a bomb has been dropped. “Well bend me over and spank me harder,” Sage drawled. “Sage you need to stop whatever it is that you are doing,” Celeste said slightly amused. “So I guess I am not the only one with secrets huh?” Syrene said with a slight smirk. “Whatever,” Naomi said rolling her eyes. “So what does that mean?” Syrene asked in all seriousness. “It means Lilith is up to something and Ixtab knew more than what we originally assumed being that she attacked the boy personally…it means that in order for a demonic resurrection there must be a sacrifice and that boy may be the key to everything.” Celeste said wearily. “So what do we do?” came Sage’s voice. “We find that boy first and in the meantime try to make a direct contact with Kitara, let her know what we know and take it from there.” Celeste restarted the car and pulled back out into traffic. Celeste made a silent prayer to the Almighty that they find Jose before any of the other gods did.

Creativity Equals Originality

All of a sudden, everyone wants to be a writer….everyone has a story to tell. But, not everyone’s story is original. As I look around in the various Facebook groups for would-be authors, I see the same stuff…same storylines but different titles. It is important for a writer to have his or her own identity; their own style…their own something that separates them for the rest; from the wanna-be’s. I have read plenty of books from unknown authors and knew immediately who was their biggest influence in their style of writing. It is one thing to learn from and take bits and pieces from another successful author but for the love of God don’t copy! Be yourself. Write from the only perspective that you know-YOURS! You can only be you. Just because you love Anne Rice does not mean you should write like Anne Rice. Just because you are a fan of Stephanie Meyer you should write a story that involves vampires that glitter in the sunlight. Unfortunately, when an author is successful enough to write a story that goes from the bookshelf to the big screen agents all over the globe scout for authors with similar storylines (such as Hunger Games versus Divergent) just so that they too can have a piece of the pie. I could never be Zane, or K’Wan or Eric Jerome Dickey or L.A. Banks and even if I were to even attempt to do so that does not guarantee success. Their success is their own, not mine. Creativity means originality…authenticity. I am not trying to be the next J.R. Ward, I want to be me. I want my own title. I love their work but I love mine more despite the fact that I am unpublished. If you know who you are there will never be room for comparison. Story telling is a gift that should not be taken lightly. It is no different than singing: you either have the vocals or you don’t. And, unfortunately there are too many “writers” who simplify the craft to nothing more than a money making opportunity; or an attempt to satisfy some delusional fantasy of making the New York Times bestselling list. But who am I to judge?

Nubia Rising Sample Chapter

The Darfur Region of the Sudan…1500 B.C.

Kitara pushed her long, thick locks from her eyes as she looked into the noon-time sky; the sun, bearing no mercy on her already midnight skin, beat down on her relentlessly. She wished her mother would hurry up and finish the offerings. She couldn’t understand why they had to sacrifice what little precious goods they had every so often to a motionless statue…Isis was beautifully carved and brazened in the finest of metals. But this went beyond reason. The gods that her people have worshipped for the last 1000 years have done what they always do in times of crisis…nothing. It seemed as if those who were highly favored were born that way and those who were not…well, all they could do was pray to lifeless statues and hope for the best. And that was what her mother was doing right now. Praying to a lifeless god. How could an immortal being be so…lifeless? She closed her eyes and exhaled. All of this to find a husband…a husband that she did not want. She sighed and leaned against the massive rock. She thought about her father and how much she missed him. He would have never allowed her mother to worship something as ridiculous as a statue. He was practical. He had sense. And he died many moons ago when she was young. Her father had come home to their thatched hut with a strange illness. Her mother had traveled to almost every neighboring village and tribe seeking their most gifted shamans whom had called on every deity, every spirit that they could think of, and still, her father died within three days.

Living in the desert, moving from place to place after her father’s spirit had moved on to the next world, was beyond tiring. Kitara, her mother Aisha, and her brother Nayeem had become nomads, traveling with the seasons to evade any and every possible danger from what was known as wandering men: men who had no families and sought nothing but trouble. Being that Nayeem was much younger than Kitara, there was nothing that he could do to protect their mother nor his sister; and it could have been if he happened upon a wandering man who had no issue with his sex, then he too would become prey. Now, as Kitara waited for her mother to finish her prayers and offerings to the statue, she realized that a husband for her was more than ensuring her survival but her mother’s too. In a year, Nayeem planned to go into the great nation of Nubia and train with the warrior men there and then that would leave Kitara and her mother. They barely slept in reasonable accommodations as it was; a small thatched hut with palm leaves for flooring. During the rainy season, they had to seek out shelter in caves and hope that there is no great flooding or that the cave was inhabited by vermin or worse. Such a hard life they had lived.

If Kitara had grown up with a tribe that was bountiful in goods and wealth or even had their family settled in Egypt like most of her father’s people, then by now at the age of 16 she would have been married to perhaps a man of trade or a farmer; someone that could provide. Kitara was by all standards incredibly beautiful. She looked just like her mother with her amber colored Bedouin shaped eyes, full lips, chiseled cheek bones and rich dark skin. She had her father’s height which was 5’11 and his athletic build. Her wild hair had now been tamed in tightly woven locks that had grown so much in length that it now hung below her waist. However, being that her family rarely settled in a single place for too long, it was difficult to meet and arrange anything. Kitara seriously doubted her mother had anything to offer as part of her dowry. She figured her mother was praying that her looks alone would be sought as something of value.

Beads of sweat were dripping down Aisha’s face as she prayed from the depths of her spirit. She asked Ra for understanding and begged Isis for assistance. Her time was running out, she just knew it but she didn’t want to leave without knowing Kitara was going to be alright. Nayeem would survive, but Kitara, she was not too sure about. The girl had an iron will and didn’t take to kindly the role of the women. She daydreamed more than she listened and when she spoke to outsiders, her mother would hide her face in embarrassment. Kitara was intelligent…too intelligent and the men of their time wanted something a little more…naïve. Something a little more… soft…. Something less than Kitara. She was so much like her father it was eerie. She carried herself like a Neter, they said (they being outsiders); like she was better than everyone else even though the clothes that she wore were more like rags. She had a temper and had on several occasions challenged fully adult men if she felt the slightest amount of disrespect and had it not been for Aisha to beg and plead these men not to harm her, Kitara may have been with her father a long time ago. Aisha did not know what to do with her daughter. That is why she prayed incessantly. There was nothing else to do. Especially considering how blatant Kitara had been as of late with the blasphemy. Aisha could only pray that the gods have mercy and understanding; and that Kitara will see that the gods did answer prayers…she would just have to learn patience.

Wiping her face with her tattered robes she murmured a few last words of thanks to Isis before raising from her weary knees. The sun was still high in the sky, sucking away the last of the small amount of energy reserve that Aisha had. Nayeem was off by the spring, more than likely lounging about in the cool waters. He was twelve, still a boy and in a year he hoped to become a man by training to become a warrior. Kitara was off standing by a lone palm, scowling as usual whenever Aisha went to pray. In a few hours the sun will surrender its merciless rays to the gentle light of the moon, and then Aisha would be able to rest her very weary body.

Aisha approached her daughter cautiously. Her joints were screaming in pain and the pit of her stomach felt like she had swallowed fire. She had no clue what was wrong and had already been to several shamans from various tribes and none could figure out what ails her. Some had said it was a curse from Isis, for not being strong in her faith. One said it was because of Seth, others said it was an attack from the spirit world. Whatever it was that was causing the pain, was also sucking the life out of her. She wasn’t sure if her very astute daughter had sensed something was wrong, but she knew just like she knew her own name that her time was drawing near. As she inched closer to her oldest, her legs gave out and she fell, her hands reaching out to try to stop the inevitable. She collapsed right into the blistering sand.

“Mother!” Kitara shouted in alarm as she ran to assist her mother. She held her mother’s hands and lifted her to her feet, dusting the sand off in the process. Speaking in a language that is today no longer in existence, she studied her mother for any signs of illness. “Mother, why do you fall?” Aisha struggled to right herself before answering. She looked into her daughter’s concerned eyes and said,” Kitara, I am not well. I have visited tribal healers and they know not what to do. I have prayed to Isis and she-“ “SHE HAS FAILED YOU!” Kitara screamed. Aisha stared at her daughter in disbelief and horror. “She has failed you just like every other god that us mindless people pray to. She has failed US! Look at us mother,” Kitara pleaded. “We have wandered in the deserts for years living like sheep, barely surviving…you prayed to that selfish idol when father was sick and what did she do? NOTHING! Nothing but bestow sickness on you and condemn Nayeem and I to a life of hunger!” Enraged by her daughter’s blasphemy, Aisha summoned what strength she had left and met Kitara’s left cheek with an open hand blow. Kitara stumbled back stunned. “I will not stand here and listen to you disrespect our matron. We have life, something that we should not have been granted this long after your father passed. She has guided you, protected Nayeem and she will not-“ “She will not save you mother. Your death, our lives mean nothing to her. You-“ “Foolish girl!” Aisha seethed. “And then you wonder why no man will have you as his wife. You are-“ “I AM NOT FOOLISH! No man will have me because you do not have resources and to be fair I have no desire to be wanted…to be nothing more than a slave to a man’s desires and weaknesses-“ “Then it is not Isis who has cursed you it is you.” “Mother, it is not I who is foolish,” Kitara said softly. Aisha simply stared at Kitara, the anger dissipating. “You are so much like your father. He did not trust the gods,” Aisha began. “He, like you, said that I was foolish just like the rest of our people.” Aisha took a moment to gather her thoughts. She then knew it was time for Kitara to know the truth as to why they lived in the desert and why they never settled. “Before you and way before , Nayeem were born, your father grew tired of the sea. That is what we were; we came from the same tribe of peoples that instead of toiling the earth, we sought nourishment from the sea. Yemanja, was her name…” Aisha stepped away from Kitara and sat against a massive stone rock. She removed some of her torn robing, revealing a full head of beaded thick locks and greying hair. Kitara looked at her mother with pain and sadness in her heart. She had been so busy dreading the idea of being married and secretly hating her mother for her choice in worship and had not noticed how thin and tired her mother had become. “I am telling you this child so you can tell Nayeem and one day if you so decide, you can pass this on to your own children.” Kitara nodded, and beckoned for her mother to continue. “Your father and I had been wed for only a few moons when I became with child the first time.” “I am not your first?” Kitara quizzed. Aisha looked away sadly. “You are the first to survive…but let me continue. My grandmother was a witch of some sort. She was able to commune with the spirit world, and her ability to communicate with those who are no longer with us kept our tribe safe. Not just from other warring tribes but from the gods. Kitara there are many and you must be wise in who you choose to worship because there are gods who no matter how greatly you serve them, enjoy inflicting pain and punishment. My grandmother had received word from the spirit world that I was to give birth to a great warrior; a challenger to the gods. Your father just laughed at her and blamed her age for saying such ludicrous things. But I believed her. And so did the rest of the tribe. My belly had not begun to show the signs of life in which it carried when Yemanja came to me in a dream.” “Who is this Yemanja?” Kitara gently wiped the beads of sweat that were dripping from her mother’s dark skin. “She is the goddess of the sea and protector of children, at least that was who she was supposed to be…in the dream she was far from that. She was a monster and she chased me from my grandmother’s home and into the seas where there she and other Oshiras attacked my pregnant belly. I woke up the next morning no longer pregnant. She did this every other time for the next three pregnancies until my grandmother asked our ancestors to form a barrier around me and the one that I carried and then you were born.” Aisha paused before continuing. “When you were born, because you were not born male my grandmother became angry at the spirits because she felt like they had deceived her. She thought that this challenger was to be born male. However, as you grew older more trouble came to our village. The seas had dried up; no one could catch any fish and it seemed like every time we looked up there was a storm and then last but not least came the raids. You may not remember this but my grandmother had received word from the spirits, the last word she would receive for not long after she joined them, and she sent me, you, Nayeem and your father away. She told us to go into the desert and remain there until it was time. And that’s what we did. Your father had caught word that our village had been slaughtered, my grandmother included.” Tears had formed in Aisha’s eyes and she couldn’t find the strength to hold them back. “Time for what?” Kitara asked gently. “That is the question, I don’t know.” “So are you saying that I am the one who is supposed to challenge the gods?” Aisha took a deep breath before exhaling. “If my grandmother is right, I do not think it is Nayeem. Nayeem lacks the same conviction and righteous indignation that you possess. He is not brave, not saying that one day he will not be, but you my child have always been…brave. You have no skill in fighting but yet you fight. Nayeem hopes to become a warrior one day but he does not have a warrior’s heart. He is peaceful. Perhaps one day he will grow one…” “But if I am to challenge the gods how am I to do that when I have no special power?” Kitara asked, becoming more interested in her future and her role in it by the minute. Aisha smiled. Kitara was always full of passion. “My grandmother said the spirits would assist you when the time came.” “So all this time you knew what I was destined for and you still insisted that I have a husband and succumb to the lowly role of a wife? Living off the hard work or lack of hard work of a man?” Kitara demanded. Her demeanor changed from gentle and sad to angry. Aisha again sighed. “Kitara no mother wants their daughter in battle. I do not want to see your life cut short chasing after something that would ultimately defeat you. That is why I never settled in any tribe. I never took another husband. There have been stories circling around about the possible ‘destroyer’ for years and I do not know if others know about you or if what my grandmother said was nothing more than a story.” “Then we must go to Nubia to settle mother. Nayeem wants to go there anyways to train and I must go to find out what I must about this ‘destroyer’.” “Child you cannot read…only the priviledged are taught to read the sacred texts.” “Then I will learn. Until then I can speak.” “My dearest daughter, that is an adventure for you and Nayeem. My time is like the rain is drying up. I can feel it. That is why I want you to have a husband, so that you will not be alone. And Kitara, there is nothing wrong with being a wife, especially if your husband happens to be the one you love.” Kitara fell on her knees despite the fact that the sun was still high in the sky and the sand would blister her skin from the heat. “No mother. You will not die. I will not accept it!” she sobbed. Aisha stroked her daughter’s long locks. “Do not cry. We still have time. Get up and let’s go and be with Nayeem. If we stay out here in this sun any longer we shall surely become food for the vultures.”

Kitara stood up and without wiping her face, she took her mother’s hands and helped her to her feet. The spring where Nayeem waited was only but less than an hour walk. Kitara made sure to walk at a slower pace so that her mother would not fall again or become too weary where she would not be able to walk on her own. Aisha said nothing more as they went about their way. She had said enough. She had hoped it was enough for Kitara to understand why they lived the way that they had lived. Kitara was happy that her mother had finally given her some sort of an explanation about their lives and what some of the pain and suffering they had endured had meant. But she wanted to know more. Was the destroyer a legend of some sort? Or was it just a fable of hope? Who else knew? Was it written in the Book of the Dead? And was she really the destroyer?

The small spring was hidden just beyond the mountainous sand dunes. Nayeem had discovered it a few nights ago just when their thirst for water had become unbearable. He remained their ever since. As they approached, they could see Nayeem’s midnight and naked skin standing in the thigh high waters. A jackal was in the distance just ahead of him, watching. Kitara had at first feared crocodiles, but it appeared none had made their way to this side of the desert. They could also see a woman, adorned in the finest of gold and silk robing, her beautiful golden brown skin and her eyes shown like magic. Her irises were Azul blue and her hair was swept up high above her neck. She was so beautiful she didn’t look real and the closer Kitara got to the spring, the more alarmed she became. Aisha had become alarmed too and had stopped walking, urging Kitara to do the same. “Kitara,” she whispered. “DO not challenge her. That is Isis herself.” Kitara’s amber eyes glowed with rage. “Then why is she here? She has done nothing for us in all of these years and why is she speaking to Nayeem?” “I do not know. But let me approach her. I was the one calling to her for her help. You stay here. This is rare. DO NOT MAKE A SOUND.” Aisha warned. Kitara could hear the tremble of fear in her mother’s voice.

The gods rarely made any type of appearance and if they did, it was usually on the dream scape. Kitara ducked down behind a bush and did as her mother asked. She watched her mother, limp slowly to the deity who was still engaging what looked to be conversation with Nayeem. Kitara wished she would speak louder so she could hear, and took it upon herself to move closer. Aisha dropped to her knees before the deity who was standing in the thigh deep water. Nayeem stood frozen in place. His eyes glossy. The deity turned to face Aisha. “Stand up Aishsa.” Isis commanded. “You have already paid your respect to me; something you have YET to teach your daughter who watches me from a close distance.” Aisha stood up but kept her eyes held to the ground. “You have a handsome son.” “Thank you my queen.” Aisha said humbly. “Your daughter is quite beautiful herself. I have watched her. She has the spirit of a warrior yet she is arrogant. So arrogant that she refuses to not just bow before me, but before any god.” Isis began to casually circle Aisha; walking with her hands behind her back and in a manner as if she is debating on something. “You know Aisha I have protected you and your family even when you thought I was not and I have tried to do more for you, but the other gods refused to help you. Do you know why?” Aisha shook her head. “Of course you do. I listened to you tell your daughter the story and it all makes sense. My husband tried to warn me and he told me once you entered my lands that I should have you all killed, but did I listen? No. I didn’t believe that a human could defeat me or any god and that it was all just a myth….a myth to give you humans something that us gods find amusing-hope. I’m not a tyrant. I have been very good to you people and this is the thanks that I get.” Isis continued to circle Aisha, observing her. “You are ill, are you not?” “Yes my highest queen.” “And you prayed for healing, did you not?” “Yes.” “Hmmmmm…. I could heal you and let you live the rest of your days in wealth and leisure. You and your son….” Aisha said nothing. She just kept her head down. “Osiris and every god of this land wants your daughter dead. Osiris claims ownership of her soul. Her soul however is being heavily guarded by spirits that my husband for whatever reason cannot control. He said that he needed an elder of her bloodline to call them off. I command you to do it.” Aisha spoke with tears in her eyes. “But I cannot my queen. My grandmother had the spirit gift but she is long dead.” Isis stopped pacing and using her kinetic ability raised Aisha’s head so that her eyes met hers. “I see. That is the problem with gifts, they are apparently not for everyone.” Aisha began to visibly tremble with fear. “You should have forced her to bow down before me Aisha.” Isis stated. “I could have protected you better, given you more. I ALWAYS protect my faithful. I-“ I WILL BOW BEFORE NO ONE!” Kitara bellowed, standing to her full height and quickly approaching to where her mother stood. “You decide to come out from hiding when you perhaps are due to face your one and only threat?” Kitara challenged. “KITARA!” her mother screamed. “YOUR INSOLENCE WILL COST YOU GREATLY MY DEAR. I HAVE BEEN AROUND LONGER THAN YOU COULD FATHOM AND YOU DARE DISRESPECT ME WHEN YOUR FAMILY’s LIFE IS IN MY HANDS?” Isis voice boomed. Isis turned her attention back to Aisha. “I will not grant you healing Aisha. Osiris is anxious to meet you…” and with from Isis hands came a dark shadow of twisted light and before Kitara could react, Isis cast the energy into Aisha, dropping her mother dead instantly. “NOOOOOOOOO!” Kitara screamed. Isis then turned to NAyeem who was still frozen in the spring. “Pity…” was all she said before she sent the same dark shadow into Nayeem. “NAYEEEEEEEEEM!” Kitara cried out as she ran to her brother to try to block the attack, but it was too late. He collapsed dead in the water. Kitara watched, her eyes laden with tears as two white beams of light emitted from both her mother and her brother’s bodies and as Isis collected their spirits into an amulet that Isis wore around her neck. “Where they are going, I can assure you they will be WELL taken care of. And be warned, DESTROYER, you will die by my hand just as your mother and your brother. Refusal to submit to my worship in my lands is death. The spirits protect you for now, but trust me your time draws nigh.” Kitara, even completely stricken with grief and kneeling beside her mother’s body manage to issue her own threat…a threat that would sustain her very existence. “I vow to wipe your name out from the books of history Isis. You, your husband and the rest of you pathetic gods. Your pyramids will exist no more. No one will chant your name or sing you praises. I don’t know how, but YOU will die by my hand and you know this; that is why you fear me. You cannot kill me but I can kill you. I will see to it that your cities are burned to the ground and that your name will be etched in the Book of the Dead before I burn it.” No human being has ever had the courage to issue a death threat to a deity. And no one in history had the courage to look a goddess such as Isis in the eye and issue a warning with so much hate and conviction and live another second to talk about it. For the first time since she was created, Isis felt something she was used to ensuing; and that was fear. She could feel the burn of malice oozing from Kitara’s pores and the rage that seethed just beneath the surface of her skin. Isis knew she needed to seek the help of her father, who had long ago disappeared if she wanted to stop Kitara from acquiring her “gifts”. She had heard about the prophecy of the “destroyer” but she, like the rest of her brothers and sisters just laughed it off like it was some twisted joke. But she now stared in the very face of the one who potentially held the key to ending the long existence she had managed to obtain. Only the Watchers knew; the ones who created the gods, only they knew how to defeat a Destroyer. Kitara was to be the first of the so –called five that was going to wipe the earth free of deities to prepare the earth for its one true King. Isis didn’t know anything about this “king” but one thing she did know was that she had work to do. “Until we meet again Destroyer…Good luck acquiring your powers….” Isis’ voice echoed as she disappeared into the wind. Kitara, still kneeled by her mother let out a long mournful cry. And that is when she saw him. The one who would introduce her to Oblivion.

My Author Bio

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.

*Check out my first published e-book Love At Last on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/NubianNeteru*

Muse

A Muse is like a jealous lover: all consuming, addicting, beautiful, and maddening all at the same time. They creep up on you like a thief in the night, drag you out of bed and demand that you give in to their call. And then, that moment when you are too occupied with your reality (career, kids, school, whatever) they leave you without question…they totally abandon you when you need them most leaving you alone with empty thoughts, desperate to continue with whatever your creative instinct challenged you to conceive. Sometimes, a Muse can be so cruel to leave you longing for their embrace for days like a man thirsting for just a sip of water in the desert. At that point you find yourself ready to give up and forget about the sweet seduction and the feeling of complete oneness that only your Muse can bring. You want to forget about the enchanted dance that binds creation to its creator as a single unit. So, come out Muse. Don’t leave me hanging tonight. Don’t let me forget….don’t let me forget….

Miss Jenkins Books

Where Magic and Melanin are One

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