Tag: creativity

Sin: Daughter of the Grim Reaper (Excerpt)

Sin: Daughter of the Grim Reaper (Excerpt)

Chapter 4

I awake to the familiar smells and sounds of sulfur erupting from the gaseous pits of home sweet home: Hell. I force my eyes to open and there standing beside me in dazzling white robing is the messenger angel Gabriel. Like the rest of his brethren he is surrounded by a blinding gold light, and he extends a glowing hand to help me to my feet. He lifts me with no effort on his part, and once I am steady on my feet, he gazes at me with hopeful eyes. I find his stare to be unnerving, his colorless eyes examining me with a quiet uncertainty.

“Your father has been removed from his duties,” he said sadly. I look at him, the memory of my father’s final words turning my stomach into a tangle of knots.

“Forever?” I ask hoping that there is still some time left for me to find the seal.

His gaze remains focused on mine. “No. Until the seal is found he will remain under heavy guard…but if the seal is not returned in time before it is broken, then…he will be held responsible.”

“Where is he being detained?” I at least needed to know that he was…ok. For all of the misery and extreme punishments he has subjected me to one would think that I would be kicking my heels with joy. And, to a certain extent a part of me did feel slightly vindicated that he may receive a taste of his own brutal medicine, but at the end of the day he was still my father…and he trusted me.

“I cannot reveal that information to you for reasons I am sure you would understand.”

“So why are you here?” Without thinking I summon my father’s Scythe into my possession. Gabriel looks at me alarmed by my sudden offensive act.

“I ask that you do not react in such haste; such actions could further instigate harsher consequences for both you and your father.”

“I have no intentions on threatening you Gabriel,” I say softly. “I just want to know why you are down in the more…baser levels.”

Gabriel studies me once more, his expression changing from alarmed to thoughtful. “You are more like your father than you know,” he says finally after a brief pause. “No one foresaw that he would transfer his powers unto you, a half mortal. But now that he has done it, there are a few things you should know.”

“I’m listening,” I say shifting my weight onto my right foot where I could lean onto the Scythe for support.

“You are to only claim the humans without the mark, and your powers are not meant for you to act on revenge. To do otherwise would result in a punishment worse than what your father may experience. You are the gatekeeper of the afterlife: humans that are allowed entrance into the Heavens will be escorted by one of my brothers. You are never to intervene. Humans that are not allowed entry will be escorted by you to the lower realms where…the fallen will claim ownership….”

He continues on in a speech about what I can and cannot do for what seems like an eternity. Most of the stuff I already knew courtesy of Grim, some of it would take a few practice lessons for me to get it. But what I do not think Gabriel understands is that my new promotion is temporary. I am finding that seal and proving my father’s innocence.

“And last but not least,” He says turning to leave from whatever path he took to get here. “I do not believe your father had something to do with the seal’s disappearance. I believe that my brothers are guided only by their reverence for human life that they see him for what he is not. Grim may be a lot of things that oppose what most of us are designed to do, but ambition is not his motivation. He is nothing like the unnamed one and it saddens me that he is being blamed for such an atrocity.”

“I will find that seal and the human responsible for it,” I declare, now more determined than ever.

“I know you will. That is why I came down to speak to you. But I must leave you be Sin of Sin. Send for me and I shall assist you in any manner that I can…” And with that, he disappeared into a ball of light and was gone.

So even the angels are divided, I think to myself still staring in the direction where the angel had stood. It was then that I realized my father had given me his powers to better aid me in my quest and not so much to prevent a cosmic meltdown. As the Angel of Death, I am now more connected to humanity than ever. I gaze down at my hands, stretching out my palms and I could sense the very vibrations of life right underneath my fingertips. In my mind’s eye I witness human after human whose lives were on the brink of coming to an end ranging from the last few moments of breath after months of battling a terminal illness; the moment their heads make impact through the windshield in a fatal collision; the brush of fear as the really unlucky humans fall victim to a murderous predator and their cries are blotted out by a gun, or a knife, or the overpowering grip of a pair of hands wrapped around their throats choking the life out of them.

So this is why dear old dad is always so damn cranky.

I extend my left arm, summoning the legendary Scythe into my grip. Thank goodness wearing that black hooded robe is not a requirement because I still remain in the leather outfit I purchased. I made a mental note to take Grim shopping as soon as this mess was resolved. He needed a different look, other than his current dreadful appearance. I take one last look at my surroundings. Hellfire, brimstone, lava pits, demons materializing from the physical world in search of a soul to torment; fallen angels lurking about, perhaps on their way to meet with their boss…speaking of boss, now that I am the Angel of Death where are my underlings? Father had a legion of soldiers at his beck and call and here I stand in the middle of Hell alone…. Shouldn’t there have been some sort of ceremony to recognize my promotion? Strange…very strange.

Father mentioned something about being some sort of conspiracy against him, and in Hell, there is always a conspiracy for a power grab. Coups are performed on an almost constant basis, alliances are always formed and agreements made. Everyone down here works for someone, with the exception of my father. He is a sort of free agent, and now that I think of it, that makes him more of a threat than anyone. Someone down here has conspired to remove Grim permanently from his position and used a human to see it through. The question is who? There are millions of demons and most of them work for the Beast. Furthermore, they do not act unless told and I doubt that the Beast has any real interest in destroying Grim considering the fact that he has a war to plan and Grim’s purpose is more beneficial to his cause than not. So that must mean it had to be one or some of Grim’s own soldiers who were responsible.

First things first: find the human. I could terrorize the entire realm and would still find myself unsuccessful. And then I have an idea. Using the Scythe, I send out a telepathic call to every last one of my father’s soldiers to my presence. Instinctively I knew that the one or ones responsible would not make an appearance. They would be somewhere in the earth realm hiding until the time came for the seal to be broken, when my father would meet his end. The caverns vibrated a deep rumbling, creating deep splinters in its wake. Sounds of souls being tormented escalated to a deafening level; cries begging for the Almighty to come and set them free of their eternal torture. Within seconds the first few hundred of my father’s soldiers, now fully under my command are standing in front of me. Some of them sported the black winged/dark angel appearance, while others resembled gargoyles with their clawed hands and feet, stony expressions and grey scaly skin and wings like that of a bat instead of a bird. In just a few minutes I had almost an entire legion standing before me, ready for my command.

All of them stared at me in surprise, and as I mentally counted present heads, I noticed that a good fifty or so were absent-and those that were absent had been my father’s best men. As a matter of fact, those that were missing had accompanied me on several recon missions…just as I thought. They stared at me with curiosity, desperate for answers. As I surveyed these entities, I sensed the vibration of jealousy coming from a few of them, and I knew that if I did not establish myself now as the Angel of Death, I would have to deal with a possible mutiny, and Grim was no longer available for me to run to for obedience issues. I take a deep cleansing breath before speaking.

“As you all may know, Grim has been temporarily removed from his position,” I begin slowly, making eye contact with every one of the warriors that stood in front of me. “For now I will resume as the Angel of Death, fulfilling my father’s duties which is why I felt the need to call this impromptu meeting.” I wait for a response, and when there is none I continue. “Someone or, someones have stolen the Seal of the Apocalypse and somehow my father is being held responsible. When I discover just who the culprits are,” I say, my eyes blazing with rage so dark my unnaturally emerald green eyes turned completely black. “…not only will I skin them alive personally, they will die a second death. Most of you know that I survived the Abaddon Pits, and inside those pits lay a creature that has yet to be unleased onto the earth for a reason. His name is the Devourer and not only does he eat your physical body…he eats your soul. And one more thing,” I add staring beyond the legions and into the deeper pits that made Hell what it was. “I know that this may come as a shock to a lot of you. Some of you even feel that I am not qualified to assume such a prestigious position considering that I am or was half mortal. And I know that some of you feel slighted by Grim after eons of unquestionable allegiance…yet here I stand being given all of the powers of darkness at my disposal… Here is what I present to you: either you stand with me as you had my father or you stand against me and betray my father. You could try to form an alliance with the Unnamed One, but we all know how that goes…betray my father and you die, plain and simple. Have I made myself clear?”

*******Coming Soon***

My Press Release

THERE COMES A TIME WHEN YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ANSWER THE CALL…

Will YOU answer the CALL?

Newbie writer and lover of science fiction/ fantasy books, Delizhia D. Jenkins has finally stepped into her shoes as an author. It has been greatly anticipated by friends and family alike just WHEN she would understand her talent as a writer and put something out there for the world to share. Finally, after almost three years of contemplation, research, and prayer Nubia Rising: The Awakening is available and may be purchased as an e-book or as a paperback through Amazon starting at just $2.99 (for the e-book) and $11.25 (as a paperback).

Noted for her colorful play on words, Delizhia went from daydreaming about the day when she could breathe life into her characters to that dream becoming a reality. “I never thought that I would see this day,” she writes on her Facebook page and WordPress account the moment she completed the design of her book cover. “I refuse to wait for someone to tell me I am good enough”, she writes in her blog detailing the frustration and heartache that comes with the territory of being a new writer. Delizhia D. Jenkins is not only creative and passionate about her craft, she is also fearlessly unflinching in her pursuit of a career in the literary world.

Nubia Rising: The Awakening is a science fiction/fantasy adventure that crosses millennium and fuses it into present time. It offers not only relatable and multicultural characters, but a story of pain, personal discovery, sisterhood, and forgiveness as Kitara and her fellow Destroyers embark on a journey across time to correct an unholy abomination from eons ago. Nubia Rising: The Awakening will not only touch your heart, but will leave you breathless and aching for more. It is a reminder that we are all destined for something great and regardless of what we go through, we can overcome it.

Delizhia D. Jenkins is a proud mother of a seven year old rock star and currently resides in Paramount, CA working on her next masterpiece. For more information and updates, giveaways and more all you have to do is LIKE her Facebook page “The D Code”, or you can follow her on WordPress at: https://authordelizhiajenkins.wordpress.com/.

To place an order for the book, visit Amazon’s website at:

http://www.amazon.com/Nubia-Rising-The-Awakening-Volume/dp/1502991934/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1414622407&sr=8-1&keywords=Nubia+Rising

Or, if you are interested in general information please email her at: septembershope@gmail.com.

About Nubia Rising…

The Destroyers are a group of specially and specifically designed, earth bound heaven warriors that are “called” to restore the world back to its natural balance of light and to prepare the way for the Second Coming of Christ. There are five of them and they fight according to the category or skill set that they possess. Kitara, the last living descendant of Atlantis, is a god slayer. She fights immortals that dare to challenge the throne of the Almighty, and she is the unspoken leader of the Destroyers. Isis, Egyptian goddess of magic, wife and sister of Egypt’s first Pharaoh and Lord of the Underworld (Osiris); she has one single mission: to resurrect her fallen love and to bring back the power and glory of godhood that she once had. After positioning herself as the reigning “queen” of the music industry and taking on the undisputed “King of Hip Hop” as her consort, Isis is one step closer to accomplishing her goal of becoming Queen of the gods. Her only obstacle is acquiring a Potential (a human with the potential of becoming a Destroyer due to special gifts that are hidden in their DNA). Reunited with her closest friends, and with the help of her very special “sword”, Kitara must realize her unlimited potential to finish what was started centuries ago.

http://www.amazon.com/Nubia-Rising-Delizhia-Denise-Jenkins/dp/1502991934/ref=sr_1_1_bnp_1_pap?ie=UTF8&qid=1414597416&sr=8-1&keywords=nubia+rising

And Like my Facebook page “The D Code”

I Refuse to Wait for Someone to Tell me I am Good Enough

No more queries. No more submissions. No more early mornings and hopeful nights of waiting for an agent or a publisher to say, “Yes, I love your work!” No more. There is room for more than one at the top. You don’t have to follow trends when you know you can create them. You don’t believe in my dream, well fine. I do. And if you are not a believer now, you will be later. I could have easily given up; thrown in the towel…discarded my dreams into the dumpster of deserted goals and fleeting passions. But, that is how you know you are destined to do something. It is when you don’t give up. It is when, you find away over, around and through an obstacle. Maybe it is better to have the agents chasing you because you hold the ball. Now, you can say how it’s going to go. So, with that being said it’s your dream: believe in it. That is my motto. It is my dream and I believe in it. And you will too.

Find me on Twitter @authordelizhia

I am now on Amazon so check out my author page:http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00OWX108W

And last but not least check out my Facebook page entitled: The D Code.

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

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!”

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.

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….