Brenda Pandos's Blog
May 25, 2020
Slave No More
Hi Fans and Friends,
On this solemn Memorial Day, I want us all to reflect on the brave sacrifice
those men and women died for: OUR FREEDOM
Our freedom to move, live, to breathe, and pursue happiness, to pursue our dreams.
What would they say, if they could, when seeing
what we're doing with it, especially now in this lock-down state?
If it were me, I'd be spitting mad!
To roll over and ALLOW government to strip us of our rights.
To be honest, it's not our fault. Instead of being taught our rights via the Constitution, Bill of Rights, Declaration of Independence, etc. we've been watching TV and entertaining ourselves into oblivion.
So my new platform is WAKING everyone up!I can no longer keep quiet. I've swallowed the red pill. It's not an easy pill to swallow... truth isn't. I'm glad I did.
What's the red pill?
That is a deep question.
In a nutshell, it's becoming aware of the deception of what, we as Americans, and the world have been fed for a long LONG time.
People (Black Hats) are strategically groomed/placed within places of power, while blackmailing or eliminating threats who could expose what they're doing, with a one world government agenda.
I always knew things weren't as they seemed, and knew politicians were corrupt, thirsty for power. But not to this degree.
My awakening started April 12th with the Out Of Shadows documentary.
And then I watched the 10-part series from Fall of Cabal (part 5 available on BitChute) along with Covid-19 parts 1-4
Watch PLANDEMIC as well
My eyes were OPEN open.
For the first time, I had hope.
I learned about Q
Who is Q?
Qanon is a group of persons who post on an imageboard 4chan website, the first post being 28 October 2017. The collective group of person's is unknown, but whoever they are, they have close contact with the president and when Q+ posts, it's the president himself. Speculation within those who follow Q believe US Secretary of Defense, General James Norman "Mad Dog" Mattis, US Secretary over housing and urban development, Dr. Ben Carson, House Oversight Committee and Rep of South Carolina, Trey Gowdy, Secretary of State and former Director of the CIA and a former army Captain, Mike Pompeo could be part of the group.
The patriots who follow Q all believe there's a secret plot to by the "Deep State"against the American people (and the world), and they would have been successful too, if President Trump wasn't in their way.
There's so much to cover on this, I have to break it up into posts, but the Q drops are a way to give Patriots information that's not tainted by Main Stream Media [MSM] which is controlled by the Deep State.
Those who want to follow the posts/drops outside of the 4chan site as do so on Qposts or Qmap.
Together, we form a digital army of soldiers and our end goal is The Great Awakening.
Our motto, where we go 1 we go all! #wwg1wga
This whole covid-19 outbreak/quarantine has been a plan by the Deep State to ruin America and shove the blame on President Trump so he wouldn't get reelected. It's not working. It's backfiring, actually. America is still suffering and needs to reopen.
We need you! We need more patriots to join the fight!
You can start by registering coordinatedcitizen.com and ssbamerica.com
Stay tuned for more posts how!
God speed Patriots. My hope is you'll become a FREEDOM FIGHTER too!
April 3, 2019
Day of Truth is Finally Here
Today is the day.
After 18 months of waiting and two denials, I get to tell a judge why I can't work. It's been a long wait, filled with lots of other challenges (ones for a future post), besides my own.
My biggest deficit... low endurance and fatigue. Basically, the more thinking or physical effort involved in the task, the quicker my fatigue rears its ugly head.
Maybe a look into my life will help show you what I mean.
Typically, on weekdays, I get up at 6AM to get the boys ready for school (breakfast and making lunches). After taking them to school, I make myself breakfast, read a devotional plan in my YouVersion Bible app, pray and journal my thoughts/feelings. Next, I work on my never ending list of little things I need to do. Looking at it now, I see "call XYZ", "birthday card," "donation bag," "$ for yearbook," "cancel appt," "order XYZ clothing," "library." Before, I added stuff like "breakfast, clean up dishes, shower," to the list and had a sheet for each day, so I'd feel accomplished once I crossed said task off the list (as per a suggestion from my speech therapist). Now, it's more of a general list, but I have to say, when I add whatever to my list, it does something magical to inspire me to get that task done.
Anyway.... back to my daily routine: I might go for a walk, or do a low impact exercise DVD, depending on my day. If I have to go out for any reason, I won't do the DVD or walk less time as to save my energy for the task. Afterward, I take a shower and if I'm going out or not, determines whether I do my hair/face. Once 11:30 rolls around, I make myself lunch, then rest with a few to-do's mixed in until I have to pick up the boys from school at 2:30. At 4:30, I start making dinners for me and the boys. It's always simple... little prep... little dishes to clean afterward.
In between these times of "doing stuff," I rest. Either I'm reading, watching something on Netflix, or playing a non-stressful game on my phone. At 6PM, my husband comes home from work and makes his dinner, then helps my youngest with his homework as I don't know how to do the math problems anymore and (honestly) post-stroke, my patience is thin. And by that time, I'm close to being physically spent anyway. By 8PM, the boys are finished with screen time and start showers/teeth brushing to be in bed by 9. I'm in bed by 9 myself and read to get sleepy, just to start the cycle all over again the next day. If I stop and think about the effort needed to accomplish my daily tasks, I get overwhelmed and fatigue sets in. I have to reward myself to push through... something I want to watch, read, or do, but it'll come at a price.
A price.
Even rereading this... I sound so pathetic. I don't want to be. And don't get me wrong, I'm not telling you this for your sympathy. Nothing grates more on my nerves than hearing someone complain. If you're thinking that's what I'm doing, you're missing the point. What I want for you is to appreciate your LIFE, your HEALTH, your ENERGY. Don't live life to the full now, live it with the future in mind. Do you ultimately want quality of life or quantity? I've made, for the most part, food choices to keep me healthy now with a few sugary exceptions (maybe too many). But isn't that what we hear all the time in the media, to live for the moment? Just please, keep the future in mind because future-you will appreciate your healthy choices now.
The day I met with my lawyer to discuss what would happen at my hearing, it was a 1-1/2 hour meeting. Afterward, I met my husband for lunch since he works close by, and then left to pick up the boys from school. Sitting in the parking lot waiting for them to get out of school, my exhaustion overwhelmed me (like end of the day exhausted), but I had to pick them up as I'm in a carpool. A full car (6 kids) and with them all talking... just the noise is draining. By the time I got home, I fell into bed and took a 30 minute nap. When I woke up, I didn't have the energy to make dinner for the boys (mine just needed to be heated up). I was done for the night. Before my stroke, I could do all that EASY and still have energy to write in the evening, getting to bed at 11PM.
To compensate, I order online when I can because getting ready, getting in the car, going to the store, finding it, buying it, taking it home... all takes energy... I only have so much each day and once it's spent, it's gone. I save my energy for the important things in my life. That in itself takes a lot of planning and pacing. I avoid crowds as they take energy from me. I avoid making decisions on the fly. I go to church on Saturday so I can pick out my seat as I have a wonky foot that doesn't work well. I try to regularly hang out with friends from high school. If we can meet at someone's house, I'm all for it. One time, we met downtown at a restaurant... let me say parking was a nightmare for me and I hadn't planned for that. Typically, I carpool with a friend who lives close to me so she can make those quick decisions and do the planning.
In a nutshell, I avoid stress at all costs.
That's why I barely blog, why I'm not on Facebook (accept when people tag me). Maybe I avoid Facebook so I can stay in my little bubble of avoidance. It's hard seeing people living their lives and not wanting to join in. Hard. Even writing this is stressful to a degree and later, I'll pay the price for investing my energy. It all boils down to making sure the price is worth it... trading a meaningful conversation with my children for a clean floor, for example.
But... avoiding the hard in my life isn't going to help in the long run either. I need to force myself to get out of the house, to pace, to do, to go, to live.
The old me would thrive on the stress, try to squeeze in as much as she could and over commit. Write until late in the evening, imagine her characters in impossible situations and loving the puzzle of getting them out of that. The old me.
The other day, I got a inspired to work on my memoir. I quickly went to find the manuscript I'd worked on a year ago, just to realize I couldn't find it. I frantically searched and searched to no avail.
It was gone! Poof!
And just the act of searching took the wind out of my sails. I was frustrated and angry and exhausted. I started to question. Did God really want me to write my memoir? I know I will need help throughout the entire process, but honestly... to lose my manuscript? I'd written 9K words and those words took energy to write, energy that was precious to me.
When talking my frustration over with my husband, I read a journal entry to him, one I'd written before my stroke. It was a raw look inside myself, admitting the realities of where I was emotionally and asking questions I didn't know the answers to. And then a glimpse of now, three years later, going through what I've gone through, I was able to answer such questions. The answers weren't what I'd wanted back then, but what I needed. I sobbed reading it. He looked at me and said, "that needs to be the first chapter of your book." I blinked at him. Seriously? I've never been that vulnerable. Showing the real me. The ugly broken pieces of me. I struggled just to read it to him.
I felt God's nudge. Yes. That's what He wants. My manuscript before didn't show that. That manuscript was safe. Maybe I was supposed to lose that manuscript. That it was part of the plan, part of my story.
So.... for now, I'm journalling with the hopes that it will become my memoir. Good news is that it'll be using the energy I'd already allotted for the day anyway. Win-win.
So with all that being said, I'd love your prayers and well wishes as I go to this hearing. I know God has got my back. I really want the ruling to be in my favor. Unfortunately, I will have to wait 60 days until we know for sure. The good news is I'll be paid backpay 6 months after my stroke (June 2016 - present) and it should be tax-free. Either way, I want the truth to come out, to prevail. I want to win. But whatever happens, God is with me, and we'll cross that bridge together when I get there.
In the end, it's all supposed to be my story.
The good, the bad and the broken.
Thank you for reading.
Hugs to you all!
After 18 months of waiting and two denials, I get to tell a judge why I can't work. It's been a long wait, filled with lots of other challenges (ones for a future post), besides my own.
My biggest deficit... low endurance and fatigue. Basically, the more thinking or physical effort involved in the task, the quicker my fatigue rears its ugly head.
Maybe a look into my life will help show you what I mean.
Typically, on weekdays, I get up at 6AM to get the boys ready for school (breakfast and making lunches). After taking them to school, I make myself breakfast, read a devotional plan in my YouVersion Bible app, pray and journal my thoughts/feelings. Next, I work on my never ending list of little things I need to do. Looking at it now, I see "call XYZ", "birthday card," "donation bag," "$ for yearbook," "cancel appt," "order XYZ clothing," "library." Before, I added stuff like "breakfast, clean up dishes, shower," to the list and had a sheet for each day, so I'd feel accomplished once I crossed said task off the list (as per a suggestion from my speech therapist). Now, it's more of a general list, but I have to say, when I add whatever to my list, it does something magical to inspire me to get that task done.
Anyway.... back to my daily routine: I might go for a walk, or do a low impact exercise DVD, depending on my day. If I have to go out for any reason, I won't do the DVD or walk less time as to save my energy for the task. Afterward, I take a shower and if I'm going out or not, determines whether I do my hair/face. Once 11:30 rolls around, I make myself lunch, then rest with a few to-do's mixed in until I have to pick up the boys from school at 2:30. At 4:30, I start making dinners for me and the boys. It's always simple... little prep... little dishes to clean afterward.
In between these times of "doing stuff," I rest. Either I'm reading, watching something on Netflix, or playing a non-stressful game on my phone. At 6PM, my husband comes home from work and makes his dinner, then helps my youngest with his homework as I don't know how to do the math problems anymore and (honestly) post-stroke, my patience is thin. And by that time, I'm close to being physically spent anyway. By 8PM, the boys are finished with screen time and start showers/teeth brushing to be in bed by 9. I'm in bed by 9 myself and read to get sleepy, just to start the cycle all over again the next day. If I stop and think about the effort needed to accomplish my daily tasks, I get overwhelmed and fatigue sets in. I have to reward myself to push through... something I want to watch, read, or do, but it'll come at a price.
A price.
Even rereading this... I sound so pathetic. I don't want to be. And don't get me wrong, I'm not telling you this for your sympathy. Nothing grates more on my nerves than hearing someone complain. If you're thinking that's what I'm doing, you're missing the point. What I want for you is to appreciate your LIFE, your HEALTH, your ENERGY. Don't live life to the full now, live it with the future in mind. Do you ultimately want quality of life or quantity? I've made, for the most part, food choices to keep me healthy now with a few sugary exceptions (maybe too many). But isn't that what we hear all the time in the media, to live for the moment? Just please, keep the future in mind because future-you will appreciate your healthy choices now.
The day I met with my lawyer to discuss what would happen at my hearing, it was a 1-1/2 hour meeting. Afterward, I met my husband for lunch since he works close by, and then left to pick up the boys from school. Sitting in the parking lot waiting for them to get out of school, my exhaustion overwhelmed me (like end of the day exhausted), but I had to pick them up as I'm in a carpool. A full car (6 kids) and with them all talking... just the noise is draining. By the time I got home, I fell into bed and took a 30 minute nap. When I woke up, I didn't have the energy to make dinner for the boys (mine just needed to be heated up). I was done for the night. Before my stroke, I could do all that EASY and still have energy to write in the evening, getting to bed at 11PM.
To compensate, I order online when I can because getting ready, getting in the car, going to the store, finding it, buying it, taking it home... all takes energy... I only have so much each day and once it's spent, it's gone. I save my energy for the important things in my life. That in itself takes a lot of planning and pacing. I avoid crowds as they take energy from me. I avoid making decisions on the fly. I go to church on Saturday so I can pick out my seat as I have a wonky foot that doesn't work well. I try to regularly hang out with friends from high school. If we can meet at someone's house, I'm all for it. One time, we met downtown at a restaurant... let me say parking was a nightmare for me and I hadn't planned for that. Typically, I carpool with a friend who lives close to me so she can make those quick decisions and do the planning.
In a nutshell, I avoid stress at all costs.
That's why I barely blog, why I'm not on Facebook (accept when people tag me). Maybe I avoid Facebook so I can stay in my little bubble of avoidance. It's hard seeing people living their lives and not wanting to join in. Hard. Even writing this is stressful to a degree and later, I'll pay the price for investing my energy. It all boils down to making sure the price is worth it... trading a meaningful conversation with my children for a clean floor, for example.
But... avoiding the hard in my life isn't going to help in the long run either. I need to force myself to get out of the house, to pace, to do, to go, to live.
The old me would thrive on the stress, try to squeeze in as much as she could and over commit. Write until late in the evening, imagine her characters in impossible situations and loving the puzzle of getting them out of that. The old me.
The other day, I got a inspired to work on my memoir. I quickly went to find the manuscript I'd worked on a year ago, just to realize I couldn't find it. I frantically searched and searched to no avail.
It was gone! Poof!
And just the act of searching took the wind out of my sails. I was frustrated and angry and exhausted. I started to question. Did God really want me to write my memoir? I know I will need help throughout the entire process, but honestly... to lose my manuscript? I'd written 9K words and those words took energy to write, energy that was precious to me.
When talking my frustration over with my husband, I read a journal entry to him, one I'd written before my stroke. It was a raw look inside myself, admitting the realities of where I was emotionally and asking questions I didn't know the answers to. And then a glimpse of now, three years later, going through what I've gone through, I was able to answer such questions. The answers weren't what I'd wanted back then, but what I needed. I sobbed reading it. He looked at me and said, "that needs to be the first chapter of your book." I blinked at him. Seriously? I've never been that vulnerable. Showing the real me. The ugly broken pieces of me. I struggled just to read it to him.
I felt God's nudge. Yes. That's what He wants. My manuscript before didn't show that. That manuscript was safe. Maybe I was supposed to lose that manuscript. That it was part of the plan, part of my story.
So.... for now, I'm journalling with the hopes that it will become my memoir. Good news is that it'll be using the energy I'd already allotted for the day anyway. Win-win.
So with all that being said, I'd love your prayers and well wishes as I go to this hearing. I know God has got my back. I really want the ruling to be in my favor. Unfortunately, I will have to wait 60 days until we know for sure. The good news is I'll be paid backpay 6 months after my stroke (June 2016 - present) and it should be tax-free. Either way, I want the truth to come out, to prevail. I want to win. But whatever happens, God is with me, and we'll cross that bridge together when I get there.
In the end, it's all supposed to be my story.
The good, the bad and the broken.
Thank you for reading.
Hugs to you all!
August 6, 2018
Happy Summer... it's 2018.... what?
Hello,
I wanted to give an update about what's happening with me.
It's August and there's only a few more days of summer until school starts. The fact I have a 5th grader and a 7th grader is mind-boggling. I turn around to see my older son eye-to-eye with me. Really? He's just shooting up like a weed. It's bittersweet watching them grow and change into young men. Each stage has its challenges and enjoyments (cue the groaning and fighting, I mean frustration from FORTNITE), but I keep asking myself, where has the time gone?
Time. Sigh.
If you haven't heard, on December 1, 2015, I suffered from a stroke. It happened as a result of a surgery where microscopic coils were placed in an unburst aneurysm in my brain. The surgery went fine, but I didn't recover well. I awoke to find my right side no longer under my control, not wanting to speak, unable to understand common words and extreme exhaustion. I was in rehab for 20 days to learn to talk, walk and take care of my self. My recovery was very miraculous, but the fictional side of my brain where I'd written fiction hadn't returned.
Fast forward to now, it's still not returned.
Often, I run into people who haven't seen me in a while and eventually they'll ask with hope in their eyes, "Are you writing yet?" My pat answer comes rolling off my tongue, "I'm not yet, but I've not given up hope that it'll come back."
Come back.
I've recently been introduced to the personality test called the Enneagram. If you know anything about enneagram it's very enlightening and empowering. It's helped me understand how and why people do what they do, especially people I love. In my discovery, I found I'm a 7 with a 6 wing. It's called "The Entertainer." Famous 7's are Robin Williams, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, or Stephen Colbert. We're naturally the enthusiast with a Peter Pan look on life, in search constantly for adventure and the fun of life with the gift to bring joy into any situation.
When in a healthy space, 7's know "less is more," are aware of the energy invested into manufacturing happiness, and see that joy is a gift or grace that can only be received. We embrace the full range of human emotions and are growing in our ability to embrace life for what it is rather than what we want it to be. We incorporate pain and disappointment by embracing it rather than avoiding it. So the hope that I'm waiting for the fictional side of my brain to return... is that based in reality or my personality spin to make it positive?
If I'm to be truly honest with myself, the part I enjoyed about writing--imagining my characters going through, enduring and coming out in the end on top--isn't there. It's broken. Permanent writers block. And if that isn't there, it's no longer fun for me.
So that being said... *deep breath* .... I don't think I'll be writing fiction. It's hard to say that out loud. And as you can see, admitting that is SO against my natural bent. And I so don't like disappointing people. But it's true and in saying so, it's helping me be more healthy. God has another plan for me.
While I year ago, I felt God's nudge to write my memoir, it's been slow going. Maybe because my story isn't over yet. Or I might need help writing it to tie the pieces together. Or I need to be patient with myself and it might take 10 years to complete it. I'm okay with that.
And maybe, in the mean time, I should just post here short things about stuff going on in my life.
Anyway, if you'd like to read more on the Enneagram, I highly recommend The Road Back to You by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile
and The Path Between Us: An Enneagram Journey to Healthy Relationships by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile. (By clicking on these links and purchasing them, I make a small portion as Amazon's thank you to me)
Thank you so much for your kind words, prayers and encouragement during my recovery and continued journey. They mean more than you know. I always welcome your comments :)
Hugs, Brenda
I wanted to give an update about what's happening with me.
It's August and there's only a few more days of summer until school starts. The fact I have a 5th grader and a 7th grader is mind-boggling. I turn around to see my older son eye-to-eye with me. Really? He's just shooting up like a weed. It's bittersweet watching them grow and change into young men. Each stage has its challenges and enjoyments (cue the groaning and fighting, I mean frustration from FORTNITE), but I keep asking myself, where has the time gone?
Time. Sigh.
If you haven't heard, on December 1, 2015, I suffered from a stroke. It happened as a result of a surgery where microscopic coils were placed in an unburst aneurysm in my brain. The surgery went fine, but I didn't recover well. I awoke to find my right side no longer under my control, not wanting to speak, unable to understand common words and extreme exhaustion. I was in rehab for 20 days to learn to talk, walk and take care of my self. My recovery was very miraculous, but the fictional side of my brain where I'd written fiction hadn't returned.
Fast forward to now, it's still not returned.
Often, I run into people who haven't seen me in a while and eventually they'll ask with hope in their eyes, "Are you writing yet?" My pat answer comes rolling off my tongue, "I'm not yet, but I've not given up hope that it'll come back."
Come back.
I've recently been introduced to the personality test called the Enneagram. If you know anything about enneagram it's very enlightening and empowering. It's helped me understand how and why people do what they do, especially people I love. In my discovery, I found I'm a 7 with a 6 wing. It's called "The Entertainer." Famous 7's are Robin Williams, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, or Stephen Colbert. We're naturally the enthusiast with a Peter Pan look on life, in search constantly for adventure and the fun of life with the gift to bring joy into any situation.
When in a healthy space, 7's know "less is more," are aware of the energy invested into manufacturing happiness, and see that joy is a gift or grace that can only be received. We embrace the full range of human emotions and are growing in our ability to embrace life for what it is rather than what we want it to be. We incorporate pain and disappointment by embracing it rather than avoiding it. So the hope that I'm waiting for the fictional side of my brain to return... is that based in reality or my personality spin to make it positive?
If I'm to be truly honest with myself, the part I enjoyed about writing--imagining my characters going through, enduring and coming out in the end on top--isn't there. It's broken. Permanent writers block. And if that isn't there, it's no longer fun for me.
So that being said... *deep breath* .... I don't think I'll be writing fiction. It's hard to say that out loud. And as you can see, admitting that is SO against my natural bent. And I so don't like disappointing people. But it's true and in saying so, it's helping me be more healthy. God has another plan for me.
While I year ago, I felt God's nudge to write my memoir, it's been slow going. Maybe because my story isn't over yet. Or I might need help writing it to tie the pieces together. Or I need to be patient with myself and it might take 10 years to complete it. I'm okay with that.
And maybe, in the mean time, I should just post here short things about stuff going on in my life.
Anyway, if you'd like to read more on the Enneagram, I highly recommend The Road Back to You by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile
and The Path Between Us: An Enneagram Journey to Healthy Relationships by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile. (By clicking on these links and purchasing them, I make a small portion as Amazon's thank you to me)
Thank you so much for your kind words, prayers and encouragement during my recovery and continued journey. They mean more than you know. I always welcome your comments :)
Hugs, Brenda
August 24, 2017
News about Me
Hello friends and fans,
I wanted to let you know what's going on with me.
If you hadn't heard, on December 1, 2015, I suffered from a stroke. It happened shortly after a surgery to repair an unburst aneurism in my brain. A tiny tube via catheter was threaded in my artery from my groin up into my head to the spot where my vessel pooched out and then they filled the pooch with microscopic coils to stop it from growing any larger. Funny... I'd gotten the procedure to prevent a future stroke (or death!) and was the lucky 1% to have that horrible thing happen as a result. Alas... I woke up with my right side no longer under my control and not wanting to talk. I was in rehab for most of December, getting out on the 22nd (just in time for Christmas). There, I learned what words meant again, how to take care of myself, and how to walk again. My husband, mom, boys, friends and family were so supportive, generous, and helped in every sense of the word... and I thank you!
While I've had a pretty miraculous recovery, the creative side of my brain where I'd imagined up stories hasn't returned. I'm not sure what to say about that other than it's a huge let down for me. I would have loved and had every intention of writing another Mer Tales story, and finishing up Lost in Time and starting new series' as well. Sigh.
The good news is that I am writing again, but it's nonfiction. I've started my memoir. It's about my self publishing journey and how the stroke interrupted it... and strangely, how it's been a blessing. I know that sounds crazy, but really, it has been. And how God as been there before, during and now... helping me, growing me, developing me. And while I'm not sure why this has happened to me, I have peace.
So, 20 months later, my new normal is being where things are predictable for me as I'm easily overwhelmed and only have so much energy each day which needs to be conserved for important stuff. When I get frustrated, words don't come as easily as they did before, and I have memory issues with events/details that I just can't recall. One day at a time, right?
Anyway, I'd love encouragement while I'm on this journey.
Thanks for reading,
Brenda
I wanted to let you know what's going on with me.
If you hadn't heard, on December 1, 2015, I suffered from a stroke. It happened shortly after a surgery to repair an unburst aneurism in my brain. A tiny tube via catheter was threaded in my artery from my groin up into my head to the spot where my vessel pooched out and then they filled the pooch with microscopic coils to stop it from growing any larger. Funny... I'd gotten the procedure to prevent a future stroke (or death!) and was the lucky 1% to have that horrible thing happen as a result. Alas... I woke up with my right side no longer under my control and not wanting to talk. I was in rehab for most of December, getting out on the 22nd (just in time for Christmas). There, I learned what words meant again, how to take care of myself, and how to walk again. My husband, mom, boys, friends and family were so supportive, generous, and helped in every sense of the word... and I thank you!
While I've had a pretty miraculous recovery, the creative side of my brain where I'd imagined up stories hasn't returned. I'm not sure what to say about that other than it's a huge let down for me. I would have loved and had every intention of writing another Mer Tales story, and finishing up Lost in Time and starting new series' as well. Sigh.
The good news is that I am writing again, but it's nonfiction. I've started my memoir. It's about my self publishing journey and how the stroke interrupted it... and strangely, how it's been a blessing. I know that sounds crazy, but really, it has been. And how God as been there before, during and now... helping me, growing me, developing me. And while I'm not sure why this has happened to me, I have peace.
So, 20 months later, my new normal is being where things are predictable for me as I'm easily overwhelmed and only have so much energy each day which needs to be conserved for important stuff. When I get frustrated, words don't come as easily as they did before, and I have memory issues with events/details that I just can't recall. One day at a time, right?
Anyway, I'd love encouragement while I'm on this journey.
Thanks for reading,
Brenda
November 7, 2016
Cover Reveal #RuinedByRetribution #ValiaLind #comingsoon
Here it is! Isn't it awesome?RUINED IN RETRIBUTION releases DECEMBER 7, 2016If you haven't read Book 1, PIECES OF REVENGE, it's #FREE
Amazon: https://amzn.com/B00PVQEXHY Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/pieces-of-revenge-valia-lind/1120818358?ean=2940046584172 Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/520411
RUINED IN RETRIBUTION, Titanium Series: Book Three
Gone. Gone. Gone. For the past two months, it has taken all of Logan’s determination to just keep going. Losing Tasia to Kallos Enterprises shattered his world, but he is not about to give up on what she had started. Together with her family, Logan works to destroy the company that ruined their lives. The corporation is growing bigger and stronger by the minute, weaponizing the drug and selling it to the highest bidder. But that’s not the only hurdle to overcome. Logan’s past is catching up to him, and the time has come to pay. His family’s secrets are unraveling everything he has built for himself and now, Logan is fighting on multiple fronts. Save Tasia. Destroy Kallos Enterprises. Stay alive. Such a simple list, such an impossible mission. Time is running out and Logan is left with one question: can he save them all?
PREORDER HERE: Amazon: https://amzn.com/B01N00SZRB
Social Links: Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24981832-untitled Website: http://valialind.wordpress.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/ValiaLind Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ValiaLind
Author info:
Author. Photographer. Artist. Born and raised in St. Petersburg, Russia, Valia Lind has always had a love for the written word. She wrote her first full book on the bathroom floor of her dormitory, while procrastinating to study for her college classes. Upon graduation, she has moved her writing to more respectable places, and have found her voice in Young Adult fiction. You can visit her online at http://valialind.wordpress.comor follow her on twitter, where she spends way too much time, @ValiaLind
May 16, 2016
#Imdalind Series is #FREE on #KINDLEUNLIMITED #rebeccaethington
Title: The Imdalind SeriesAuthor: Rebecca Ethington
Genre: YA Paranormal
To celebrate the addition of the Imdalind Series to Kindle Unlimited, the entire series has been put on sale. With the final book to be release in just a few short months, you can now pick up books 1-6 for under $5.00 - But only until May 20th.
Kiss Of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched TreacherySoul of Flame | Burnt Devotion | Dawn of Ash
Joclyn Despain has been marred by a brand on her skin. She doesn't know why the mark appeared on her neck, but she doesn't want anyone to see it, including her best friend Ryland, who knows everything else about her. The scar is the reason she hides herself behind baggy clothes, and won't let the idea of kissing Ryland enter her mind, no matter how much she wants to. The scar is the reason she is being hunted.If only she knew that she was.If only she had known that the cursed stone her estranged father sent for her 16th birthday would trigger a change in her. Now, she is being stalked by a tall blonde man, and is miraculously throwing her high school bully ten feet in the air.Joclyn attempts to find some answers and the courage to follow her heart. When Ryland finds her scar; only he knows what it means, and who will kill her because of it.About The Author:
Rebecca Ethington is an internationally bestselling author with almost 700,000 books sold. Her breakout debut, The Imdalind Series, has been featured on bestseller lists since its debut in 2012, reaching thousands of adoring fans worldwide and cited as "Interesting and Intense" by USA Today's Happily Ever After Blog. From writing horror to romance and creating every sort of magical creature in be-tween, Rebecca's imagination weaves vibrant worlds that transport readers into the pages of her books. Her writing has been described as fresh, original, and groundbreaking, with stories that bend genres and create fantastical worlds. Born and raised under the lights of a stage, Rebecca has written stories by the ghost light, told them in whispers in dark corridors, and never stopped creating within the pages of a notebook. Author Links: Amazon | Goodreads | Twitter | Facebook | Web
Buy Links
#Free with #KindleUnlimited
Kiss of Fire: http://amzn.to/1OhCZktEyes of Ember: http://amzn.to/1OhD2Na Scorched Treachery: http://amzn.to/1X5uheK Soul of Flame: http://amzn.to/1Nspe69 Burnt Devotion: http://amzn.to/1TaiRqD Dawn of Ash: http://amzn.to/1TaiSL6 a Rafflecopter giveaway
April 29, 2016
Awakened Angel, Soul Savers continues! #newrelease #99centsale
I'm so happy to announce the release of my best author friend forever, Kristie Cook's book: AWAKENED ANGEL !!! If you haven't started the series, no worries. This is meant to be a stand alone.
ABOUT THE BOOK
This novella serves as a stepping stone into the Soul Savers series as it enters a whole new era. You don’t need to have read the previous books to understand and enjoy this one.
As matriarch of Earth’s Angels, Alexis Knight is charged with leading the world to recover and rebuild after being ravaged by human and supernatural wars. So far, the challenge hasn’t been too difficult as most of Earth’s inhabitants remain in underground bunkers. Alexis’s own community, The Loft, is in trouble. Their water source is drying up, so she and her elite team go to the surface to find a new one. But in a surprise attack by a new kind of legendary creature, Alexis loses her memory of who and what she is.
While her team scrambles to find the antidote to the black magic affecting her mind, Alexis makes new plans of her own. Until her memory returns, though, her abilities as a leader are questioned, especially when an outside group arrives to initiate a coup against her and her team.
BUY THE BOOK
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1VwHG08iBooks: http://apple.co/1SmgezrKobo: http://bit.ly/1SE0t61BN: http://bit.ly/1YPpiNW
A SNEAK PEAK
CHAPTER 1Whispered voices filter through the watery realm of semiconsciousness and grow louder the closer I rise to the surface. Anxiety fills their muffled tones, both male and female. My body shakes, and sharp points dig into my back. The side of my face suddenly lights up with a sting.“Tell me you did not just slap her,” a male voice accuses.“She needs to wake the hell up.” The female reply sounds like music, even in its harshness.“Vanessa, you can’t go around slapping our matriarch,” another woman’s voice reprimands.The first one huffs. “She’ll get over it and then probably slap me back.”As my fingers brush over my cheek, I try to open my eyes. My lids feel heavy and scratchy, but I manage a slit. Sunlight glares, and they shut again on their own. With a few flutters against the light, I finally focus on the scene before me. Or rather, above me. I’m lying on the ground with three faces hovering over me—two females and a male—and behind them gleams the sun through an entanglement of bare tree branches.Where am I? What happened?“See? It worked,” says the musical voice. My gaze finds her stunning face with skin nearly as white as her hair that’s pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her light blue eyes, however, are like ice daggers as they glower at me. But they fail to pierce through the fog in my mind. “Come on, your highness. Enough of the dramatics. Get up. We need to get out of here.”A pale hand wraps around my upper arm before I can move, and I flinch.“Vanessa,” the other female admonishes again, her brown hair hanging around her face as she looks down at me. Her breath plumes in a thin fog as she speaks. She places a long, thin hand over the first and pulls it away. “Give her a minute. She passed out.”“We don’t have a minute,” Vanessa growls. “And she’s fine now.”“Sheree’s right,” the guy says. Worry etches three lines between his sapphire eyes as he studies me. He rubs his chin covered with thick scruff, which is a slightly darker hue than the straw-colored hair sticking out from under his knit cap. “She looks out of it. Alexis, are you okay? It’s me, Owen. Can you see me?”I blink, frown, and try to sit up. My vision wavers, and I close my eyes for a moment, pressing my fingers to my lids. What the hell has happened to me? I slowly open them again. Everyone’s stepped back to give me space, but their gazes remain heavily on me. I swallow, or try to. My throat feels like sandpaper. I lick my lips, tasting the slightly bitter odor hanging in the air, but the effort is pointless, my tongue as dry as my throat.“Thirsty,” I manage to croak out.“Aren’t we all,” someone else mutters.My perspective shifts outward to find two other men beyond the circle around me, both dressed in thick parkas, knit hats, and gloves. They’re armed with a crossbow and a gun that they keep in ready position as they each make a slow circle, watching the woods surrounding the clearing where we’re gathered. The trees are half brown and half gray, with a few withered leaves fluttering from some of the branches as though hanging on even in death. Most branches, however, are bare. Something about them seems odd, as though the limbs aren’t naked only because of the time of year, but for another reason. I can’t pinpoint what I feel like I should know through my hazy mind. Off to my left, the surface of a large lake glitters in the sun, the far shore barely visible in the distance. I gnaw on my lip. I have no idea where I am.“What happened?” I ask as I rise to my feet.Vanessa’s hand darts out to help me, her touch cold as ice. I withdraw my arm from her hold as soon as I’m standing and take a step back. Her eyes narrow as they visually assess my condition, the look in them causing a shiver down my spine.“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sheree’s upper body leans toward me, and her head tilts. Her brown-eyed gaze never leaves my face, looking down at me from her much taller height. She has to be nearly six feet tall, her body rail thin and all legs in her cutoff denim shorts. A thick belt cinches the waist, a long knife hanging from it. She probably has another in one of her combat boots. Weapons hang from all kinds of places on everyone in the group, including me.I press my fingers to my aching temples and rub circles into them. “No, not really.”“Awesome,” Owen mutters as his long leg kicks a small rock across the clearing. “It’s gotta be dark magic messing with your head, too deep for me to reach.”“This is your fault,” Vanessa snaps at him. “I can’t believe you let her drink the water.”He rolls his eyes as his hands drop to his hips. “It’s not like I didn’t try to stop her. Besides, you know how she is. She does what she wants. If she wants to test the water herself before anyone else does, she’s gonna do it.”“God forbid anyone else take a risk.” Vanessa’s voice changes to a higher pitch, mocking. “They might die, so I better do it instead.”Owen snorts, and the other guys in the group chuckle.Sheree frowns. “Hey, be nice. That’s who she is. She wouldn’t ask anyone to do what she won’t do herself. That’s why she’s here. Right, Alexis?”My brow furrows as they all stare at me again, and I rub the back of my neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”“Of course you don’t,” Vanessa quips. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here before more of those little needle things start flying again. Whatever the hell they are.”“We need to get these water samples back ASAP,” Owen agrees.Sheree glances at me sideways. “Looking at Alexis, I’m not so sure about that water.”Owen lifts a brow and holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers. “Do you doubt my magical abilities, woman? It’ll be as pristine as newly fallen snow by the time I’m done with it.”The guy with the crossbow chuffs. “I don’t think newly fallen snow is so clean anymore. It was blue last time.”“And purple the time before that,” the other guy adds.Vanessa gives an impatient flick of her hand as she settles her gaze on Owen. “Are you going to make a portal or what?”“What about our search for the others?” Sheree asks. “Are we giving up on them?”Everyone turns and looks at me expectantly. I stare back at them, not understanding what they want. My thoughts bounce all over the place from trying to follow their conversation.Vanessa sighs and shakes her head. “Let’s get the hell going.”She strides out of the clearing and into the woods as though everyone would automatically follow, and pretty much everyone does. All but Owen and me. Sheree looks over her shoulder at me and stops.“Aren’t you coming?”I shake my head. Is she crazy?“Do you want to portal back then?” she asks.When I don’t answer, Sheree and Owen exchange a look. The others stop their movement into the woods.“Damn water.” Owen gestures toward the lake. “What the heck did it do to you?”“What do you mean?” I ask.“I thought I hit the bottle out of your hand, but you dropped to the ground like a stone, lights out for a good two minutes. And now look at you. You’re all whacked out.”“Whacked out?” I echo.“Disoriented.” Sheree joins us back in the clearing. “Right? That’s how you feel?”I squeeze the back of my neck again as I glance around. “That’s one word for it.”“Hopefully, that’s all it’s done to you, and there’s no other damage,” Sheree says. “Does everything else feel okay?”I look down at my black boots, leather-clad legs, and torso barely covered in a tight-fitting tank top. A dagger hangs from a belt on my right hip, and a knife is strapped to my left leg. Everything seems to be in order. No pains or aches anywhere but in my brain. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just my head.”Owen shifts his weight. “I tried to pull the black magic out of you when you went down, but there’s apparently something I can’t reach alone. Let’s get you home, and Blossom can help figure this out.”“Home . . .” I can’t picture home. My mind comes up completely blank.“You know, The Loft?” Sheree says. “Where Tristan and the babies are, and the rest of our people?”“The place we’ve called home for over a year now.” Vanessa returns to the clearing, too. Annoyance crosses her face when I show no recognition. “You know, since that day Lucas and the Demons pretty much destroyed the world with their nuclear and magic bombs?”My gaze swings to the trees. That’s what I’d noticed to be wrong with them—many of them lack any color at all, even what remains of the leaves. Barely a trace of orange or even brown. I squint my eyes as I look out at the lake and the surrounding land. Lots of gray out there, too. Not all of it, however, as though color has slowly seeped into the landscape. Winter colors, though, except for some scattered specks of pink and yellow on the ground and tree trunks. Is that some kind of pollen? In the middle of winter?Owen moves his hand closer to my back, a familiar yet hands-off gesture to move along. “Come on. We’ll get you all fixed up, and the whole hellish story will come back to you.”My muscles stiffen, though, as a small stick, like a miniature arrow or a long needle, whizzes by my nose. A poof of colored dust trails behind it, although none of it lands on us, as if we’re each encased in an invisible bubble. Several more needles sail through the air around us.“There they are again! What the fuck are they?” Vanessa takes off, running in the direction the sticks had come from.Owen, however, somehow swoops me into his thickly muscled arms before I know what’s happening and sprints the opposite way.“What the hell are you doing?” I yell and kick and squirm, the rough wool of his sweater scraping against my bare skin.“I need to get you home.”“The hell you are. Put me down!”“I’m not fighting you on this. Tristan will—”“I said to put me down!” With a burst of energy, I spring free from his arms.At the same time, a ripping sound comes from behind me, large, dark shapes explode from my back, and I sail into the air, high out of Owen’s reach. I look over my shoulder and gasp. Purple and black wings spread out to span nearly five feet from each side of me. Although somewhere in the back of my mind I must have known they were there—that they’re a part of me—their unexpected appearance takes me by surprise.“Come on, Alexis,” Owen growls as I hang in the air above him. “That’s not fair.”He lifts his palm up toward me as though it’s some kind of threat. With a mere thought, the wings bat against the air, and I rise higher until I hit the tree branches and careen back to the ground. I barely adjust my legs in time to land in a crouch.Owen steps toward me.“Stay back,” I warn.“Then pull yourself together and let’s go,” he counters.“I’m not going anywhere with you!”Owen takes another step closer. I draw the dagger from the sheath on my hip. I bend my knees, coiling my muscles, and hold the blade between us.“Leave me alone!”He moves to take another step, and I twitch the blade. His deep-blue eyes narrow.“Alexis . . .”I rock forward on the balls of my feet.“Seriously?” He lifts a blond brow. “I’m not going to fight you.”I glare at him, dagger still out, and then my gaze bounces to the others who’ve come up behind him. They all look at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. But they also carefully watch me as though I’m a wild animal. And that’s okay. If I scare them enough, they’ll leave me alone and go back to their so-called home. As if anyone has a home anymore.“I lost them, whatever they are.” Vanessa runs back over, so fast her body’s nearly a blur. “They must have flashed because they disappeared. Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”When she stops, she glances at everyone, her eyes landing on me while I brandish a weapon at her companions. She blows out an annoyed huff.“Enough of this. We’re taking you home.”I don’t see her move, but she instantly has an arm braced around me like a steel bar locking me against her body. She carries me through the woods at an unnatural speed, the trees blurring by us. I thrash against her and dig the tip of the dagger across her forearm. She doesn’t even flinch, and the wound closes up right away. I kick her shins and throw an elbow into her ribs. Her hold loosens. I seize the opportunity and twist free, landing on my feet, dagger pointed at her. She stops in her tracks, and everyone else does, too, as they approach from behind her.“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snarl once again. “Who the hell do you think you are to expect me to? I don’t know where I am or who I am, and I certainly don’t know any of you!” ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FACEBOOK ~ WEBSITE ~ TWITTER INSTAGRAM ~ PINTEREST
Kristie Cook is a lifelong, award-winning writer in various genres, from marketing communications to fantasy fiction. She continues to write the Soul Savers Series, a New Adult paranormal romance/contemporary fantasy, with the first five books, Promise, Purpose, Devotion, Power, and Wrath available now. She’s also written a companion novella, Genesis: A Soul Savers Novella, currently available. Over 300,000 Soul Savers books have been sold, with Promise peaking at #54 on the Amazon Top 100 Paid list and at #1 in the Amazon Fantasy category.
She has also written The Book of Phoenix trilogy, a New Adult paranormal romance series that includes The Space Between, The Space Beyond, and The Space Within. The full trilogy is available now.
Besides writing, Kristie enjoys reading, cooking, traveling, and riding on the back of a motorcycle. She has lived in ten states, but currently calls Southwest Florida home with her husband, three sons, a beagle and a puggle. She is represented by Italia Gandolfo at Gandolfo Helin Literary Management.
ABOUT THE BOOK
This novella serves as a stepping stone into the Soul Savers series as it enters a whole new era. You don’t need to have read the previous books to understand and enjoy this one.
As matriarch of Earth’s Angels, Alexis Knight is charged with leading the world to recover and rebuild after being ravaged by human and supernatural wars. So far, the challenge hasn’t been too difficult as most of Earth’s inhabitants remain in underground bunkers. Alexis’s own community, The Loft, is in trouble. Their water source is drying up, so she and her elite team go to the surface to find a new one. But in a surprise attack by a new kind of legendary creature, Alexis loses her memory of who and what she is.
While her team scrambles to find the antidote to the black magic affecting her mind, Alexis makes new plans of her own. Until her memory returns, though, her abilities as a leader are questioned, especially when an outside group arrives to initiate a coup against her and her team.
BUY THE BOOK
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1VwHG08iBooks: http://apple.co/1SmgezrKobo: http://bit.ly/1SE0t61BN: http://bit.ly/1YPpiNW
A SNEAK PEAK
CHAPTER 1Whispered voices filter through the watery realm of semiconsciousness and grow louder the closer I rise to the surface. Anxiety fills their muffled tones, both male and female. My body shakes, and sharp points dig into my back. The side of my face suddenly lights up with a sting.“Tell me you did not just slap her,” a male voice accuses.“She needs to wake the hell up.” The female reply sounds like music, even in its harshness.“Vanessa, you can’t go around slapping our matriarch,” another woman’s voice reprimands.The first one huffs. “She’ll get over it and then probably slap me back.”As my fingers brush over my cheek, I try to open my eyes. My lids feel heavy and scratchy, but I manage a slit. Sunlight glares, and they shut again on their own. With a few flutters against the light, I finally focus on the scene before me. Or rather, above me. I’m lying on the ground with three faces hovering over me—two females and a male—and behind them gleams the sun through an entanglement of bare tree branches.Where am I? What happened?“See? It worked,” says the musical voice. My gaze finds her stunning face with skin nearly as white as her hair that’s pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her light blue eyes, however, are like ice daggers as they glower at me. But they fail to pierce through the fog in my mind. “Come on, your highness. Enough of the dramatics. Get up. We need to get out of here.”A pale hand wraps around my upper arm before I can move, and I flinch.“Vanessa,” the other female admonishes again, her brown hair hanging around her face as she looks down at me. Her breath plumes in a thin fog as she speaks. She places a long, thin hand over the first and pulls it away. “Give her a minute. She passed out.”“We don’t have a minute,” Vanessa growls. “And she’s fine now.”“Sheree’s right,” the guy says. Worry etches three lines between his sapphire eyes as he studies me. He rubs his chin covered with thick scruff, which is a slightly darker hue than the straw-colored hair sticking out from under his knit cap. “She looks out of it. Alexis, are you okay? It’s me, Owen. Can you see me?”I blink, frown, and try to sit up. My vision wavers, and I close my eyes for a moment, pressing my fingers to my lids. What the hell has happened to me? I slowly open them again. Everyone’s stepped back to give me space, but their gazes remain heavily on me. I swallow, or try to. My throat feels like sandpaper. I lick my lips, tasting the slightly bitter odor hanging in the air, but the effort is pointless, my tongue as dry as my throat.“Thirsty,” I manage to croak out.“Aren’t we all,” someone else mutters.My perspective shifts outward to find two other men beyond the circle around me, both dressed in thick parkas, knit hats, and gloves. They’re armed with a crossbow and a gun that they keep in ready position as they each make a slow circle, watching the woods surrounding the clearing where we’re gathered. The trees are half brown and half gray, with a few withered leaves fluttering from some of the branches as though hanging on even in death. Most branches, however, are bare. Something about them seems odd, as though the limbs aren’t naked only because of the time of year, but for another reason. I can’t pinpoint what I feel like I should know through my hazy mind. Off to my left, the surface of a large lake glitters in the sun, the far shore barely visible in the distance. I gnaw on my lip. I have no idea where I am.“What happened?” I ask as I rise to my feet.Vanessa’s hand darts out to help me, her touch cold as ice. I withdraw my arm from her hold as soon as I’m standing and take a step back. Her eyes narrow as they visually assess my condition, the look in them causing a shiver down my spine.“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sheree’s upper body leans toward me, and her head tilts. Her brown-eyed gaze never leaves my face, looking down at me from her much taller height. She has to be nearly six feet tall, her body rail thin and all legs in her cutoff denim shorts. A thick belt cinches the waist, a long knife hanging from it. She probably has another in one of her combat boots. Weapons hang from all kinds of places on everyone in the group, including me.I press my fingers to my aching temples and rub circles into them. “No, not really.”“Awesome,” Owen mutters as his long leg kicks a small rock across the clearing. “It’s gotta be dark magic messing with your head, too deep for me to reach.”“This is your fault,” Vanessa snaps at him. “I can’t believe you let her drink the water.”He rolls his eyes as his hands drop to his hips. “It’s not like I didn’t try to stop her. Besides, you know how she is. She does what she wants. If she wants to test the water herself before anyone else does, she’s gonna do it.”“God forbid anyone else take a risk.” Vanessa’s voice changes to a higher pitch, mocking. “They might die, so I better do it instead.”Owen snorts, and the other guys in the group chuckle.Sheree frowns. “Hey, be nice. That’s who she is. She wouldn’t ask anyone to do what she won’t do herself. That’s why she’s here. Right, Alexis?”My brow furrows as they all stare at me again, and I rub the back of my neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”“Of course you don’t,” Vanessa quips. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here before more of those little needle things start flying again. Whatever the hell they are.”“We need to get these water samples back ASAP,” Owen agrees.Sheree glances at me sideways. “Looking at Alexis, I’m not so sure about that water.”Owen lifts a brow and holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers. “Do you doubt my magical abilities, woman? It’ll be as pristine as newly fallen snow by the time I’m done with it.”The guy with the crossbow chuffs. “I don’t think newly fallen snow is so clean anymore. It was blue last time.”“And purple the time before that,” the other guy adds.Vanessa gives an impatient flick of her hand as she settles her gaze on Owen. “Are you going to make a portal or what?”“What about our search for the others?” Sheree asks. “Are we giving up on them?”Everyone turns and looks at me expectantly. I stare back at them, not understanding what they want. My thoughts bounce all over the place from trying to follow their conversation.Vanessa sighs and shakes her head. “Let’s get the hell going.”She strides out of the clearing and into the woods as though everyone would automatically follow, and pretty much everyone does. All but Owen and me. Sheree looks over her shoulder at me and stops.“Aren’t you coming?”I shake my head. Is she crazy?“Do you want to portal back then?” she asks.When I don’t answer, Sheree and Owen exchange a look. The others stop their movement into the woods.“Damn water.” Owen gestures toward the lake. “What the heck did it do to you?”“What do you mean?” I ask.“I thought I hit the bottle out of your hand, but you dropped to the ground like a stone, lights out for a good two minutes. And now look at you. You’re all whacked out.”“Whacked out?” I echo.“Disoriented.” Sheree joins us back in the clearing. “Right? That’s how you feel?”I squeeze the back of my neck again as I glance around. “That’s one word for it.”“Hopefully, that’s all it’s done to you, and there’s no other damage,” Sheree says. “Does everything else feel okay?”I look down at my black boots, leather-clad legs, and torso barely covered in a tight-fitting tank top. A dagger hangs from a belt on my right hip, and a knife is strapped to my left leg. Everything seems to be in order. No pains or aches anywhere but in my brain. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just my head.”Owen shifts his weight. “I tried to pull the black magic out of you when you went down, but there’s apparently something I can’t reach alone. Let’s get you home, and Blossom can help figure this out.”“Home . . .” I can’t picture home. My mind comes up completely blank.“You know, The Loft?” Sheree says. “Where Tristan and the babies are, and the rest of our people?”“The place we’ve called home for over a year now.” Vanessa returns to the clearing, too. Annoyance crosses her face when I show no recognition. “You know, since that day Lucas and the Demons pretty much destroyed the world with their nuclear and magic bombs?”My gaze swings to the trees. That’s what I’d noticed to be wrong with them—many of them lack any color at all, even what remains of the leaves. Barely a trace of orange or even brown. I squint my eyes as I look out at the lake and the surrounding land. Lots of gray out there, too. Not all of it, however, as though color has slowly seeped into the landscape. Winter colors, though, except for some scattered specks of pink and yellow on the ground and tree trunks. Is that some kind of pollen? In the middle of winter?Owen moves his hand closer to my back, a familiar yet hands-off gesture to move along. “Come on. We’ll get you all fixed up, and the whole hellish story will come back to you.”My muscles stiffen, though, as a small stick, like a miniature arrow or a long needle, whizzes by my nose. A poof of colored dust trails behind it, although none of it lands on us, as if we’re each encased in an invisible bubble. Several more needles sail through the air around us.“There they are again! What the fuck are they?” Vanessa takes off, running in the direction the sticks had come from.Owen, however, somehow swoops me into his thickly muscled arms before I know what’s happening and sprints the opposite way.“What the hell are you doing?” I yell and kick and squirm, the rough wool of his sweater scraping against my bare skin.“I need to get you home.”“The hell you are. Put me down!”“I’m not fighting you on this. Tristan will—”“I said to put me down!” With a burst of energy, I spring free from his arms.At the same time, a ripping sound comes from behind me, large, dark shapes explode from my back, and I sail into the air, high out of Owen’s reach. I look over my shoulder and gasp. Purple and black wings spread out to span nearly five feet from each side of me. Although somewhere in the back of my mind I must have known they were there—that they’re a part of me—their unexpected appearance takes me by surprise.“Come on, Alexis,” Owen growls as I hang in the air above him. “That’s not fair.”He lifts his palm up toward me as though it’s some kind of threat. With a mere thought, the wings bat against the air, and I rise higher until I hit the tree branches and careen back to the ground. I barely adjust my legs in time to land in a crouch.Owen steps toward me.“Stay back,” I warn.“Then pull yourself together and let’s go,” he counters.“I’m not going anywhere with you!”Owen takes another step closer. I draw the dagger from the sheath on my hip. I bend my knees, coiling my muscles, and hold the blade between us.“Leave me alone!”He moves to take another step, and I twitch the blade. His deep-blue eyes narrow.“Alexis . . .”I rock forward on the balls of my feet.“Seriously?” He lifts a blond brow. “I’m not going to fight you.”I glare at him, dagger still out, and then my gaze bounces to the others who’ve come up behind him. They all look at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. But they also carefully watch me as though I’m a wild animal. And that’s okay. If I scare them enough, they’ll leave me alone and go back to their so-called home. As if anyone has a home anymore.“I lost them, whatever they are.” Vanessa runs back over, so fast her body’s nearly a blur. “They must have flashed because they disappeared. Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”When she stops, she glances at everyone, her eyes landing on me while I brandish a weapon at her companions. She blows out an annoyed huff.“Enough of this. We’re taking you home.”I don’t see her move, but she instantly has an arm braced around me like a steel bar locking me against her body. She carries me through the woods at an unnatural speed, the trees blurring by us. I thrash against her and dig the tip of the dagger across her forearm. She doesn’t even flinch, and the wound closes up right away. I kick her shins and throw an elbow into her ribs. Her hold loosens. I seize the opportunity and twist free, landing on my feet, dagger pointed at her. She stops in her tracks, and everyone else does, too, as they approach from behind her.“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snarl once again. “Who the hell do you think you are to expect me to? I don’t know where I am or who I am, and I certainly don’t know any of you!” ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FACEBOOK ~ WEBSITE ~ TWITTER INSTAGRAM ~ PINTERESTKristie Cook is a lifelong, award-winning writer in various genres, from marketing communications to fantasy fiction. She continues to write the Soul Savers Series, a New Adult paranormal romance/contemporary fantasy, with the first five books, Promise, Purpose, Devotion, Power, and Wrath available now. She’s also written a companion novella, Genesis: A Soul Savers Novella, currently available. Over 300,000 Soul Savers books have been sold, with Promise peaking at #54 on the Amazon Top 100 Paid list and at #1 in the Amazon Fantasy category.
She has also written The Book of Phoenix trilogy, a New Adult paranormal romance series that includes The Space Between, The Space Beyond, and The Space Within. The full trilogy is available now.
Besides writing, Kristie enjoys reading, cooking, traveling, and riding on the back of a motorcycle. She has lived in ten states, but currently calls Southwest Florida home with her husband, three sons, a beagle and a puggle. She is represented by Italia Gandolfo at Gandolfo Helin Literary Management.
March 21, 2016
#99centsale EVERGREEN and SUPERNATURAL CHRONICLES are 0.99
Supernatural Chronicles: The New Orleans CollectionAre you ready for the hunt? Hidden among stately balconies and quaint, creole cottages, fantastic beings and secret worlds are fighting darkness in the streets of New Orleans. Love drives each supernatural race to fight for the delicate balance we each take for granted. But a forewarning has been delivered: evil is encroaching.
Ten paranormal races have no choice but to join a pivotal hunt to save their kind. Each must find one relic that has the power to stop an unnatural evil. A relic that is lost behind time and circumstance.
Hearts will be broken; love and loyalties will be tested. Never has more been on the line - their immortality and who they will share it with has been threatened. Will they be able to sacrifice it all? Or will the magic at the heart of New Orleans be forever shadowed?
Skinwalkers, werewolves, vampires, dragons, succubi, witches, necromancers, cupids, gods, and shifters, hot alpha males and kick-butt heroines...this exciting series has them all. Ten original novellas written by bestselling authors Lila Felix, Kristie Cook, Brenda Pandos, Delphina Henley, Julia Crane, Jamie Magee, Morgan Wylie, Kallie Ross, S.T. Bende, and Rebecca Ethington. Come join them for the hunt and discover hidden treasures inside.
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February 1, 2016
The Supernatural Chronicles Boxed Set is LIVE!
Supernatural Chronicles: The New Orleans CollectionBeneath the brow of Bourbon and French architecture, the iris of New Orleans swirls with flecks of worlds and beings unknown to mankind. Come with us as we chronicle their journey—each supernatural race must hunt for an offering in hopes of saving their own. Skinwalkers, Wolves, Vampires, Dragons, Succubi, Witches, Necromancers, Cupids, and Asgardians are all in danger of losing control as an uprising darkness threatens to rip the veil that protects them all from the great beyond.Ten original novellas, following each supernatural race as they fight an elusive enemy, are written by New Adult authors Lila Felix, Kristie Cook, Brenda Pandos, Delphina Henley, Julia Crane, Jamie Magee, Morgan Wylie, Kallie Ross, S.T. Bende, and Rebecca Ethington.
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November 30, 2015
Happy Release day to THE WITCHES #50giftcardgiveaway #dynamis #newrelease
Ash Sabien, a born mortal witch, was meant to be an immortal guardian, as was Soren Wade. But they were never meant to be lovers, which is why Ash fought the pull to him, sometimes venomously.Days before the sacred holiday of the Day of the Dead a message was sent to their coven: diairoúmeno aíma enós epistrofí̱ sou.
It was a call to rise, a call to hunt what was revered by their coven and use it to stop evil. The honor of the hunt was given to Ash and Soren. When Ash rushed to tell Soren of the mystery before them the last thing she expected was to walk in on Soren with another girl. She bolted. He chased her.
Neither one of them saw the truck.
Neither one of them felt the pain.
Death came like a thief in the night.
Ash knew as she stared at the tragic scene that she’d failed her fate, they both had. She let herself feel, care—and now there was no telling what could happen because she had. In death could they rise? In death could they finish the hunt and save more than them, more than their coven...?
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Get to Know Jamie Magee Better!
What would you be doing right now if you were not an author? I would be in a deep, dark pit of depression! (JK, maybe...) Before writing I was a field executive for an international retail company. I adored the fast pace of the business world, but nothing makes my heart quicken like the untold story of a whispering character.
5 years ago: what were you doing? Five years ago, I had been published for one year and was daring to think I could write and leave the executive world far far far behind me!
Do you have a certain writing ritual? I do not stand behind the saying ‘writers write, if you are not writing then you are not a writer.’ I think if you chase a world count you abandoned the romantic, magically side of writing. My ritual when characters are whispering to me is to write as fast as my fingers can take me—sun up until my eyes fall shut! When I’m not writing, I’m living my life and finding inspiration in every thing.
What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? All criticism is hard to hear, but each ounce of it is a chance to learn. I take what I can use and leave the rest behind.
Ever fangirled over another author? Who was it? In person, not yet ☹ One day soon though I will meet my idols!!!
Is there an author you'd like to meet? Ah! So many! Kresley Cole, JR Ward, Francine Rivers, Steven King, Nora Roberts...
Biggest writing pet peeve? ...I can’t think of one.
Do you read other's reviews of your books? Sparingly... I mainly just hear the chatter in my author groups ☺
