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Scars of Sand and Soil Virtual Book Tour

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Historical Fiction

Date Published: July 24th, 2025

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

 

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What’s left of a man’s soul when everything he loves is taken
from him?

 

It’s 1864, and Gabriel Cooper couldn’t care less about the
civil war raging around him. Framed for crimes he didn’t commit,
he’s been sentenced to a Confederate chain gang, where swampland
justice rules and alligators prey on the unwary.

So when Colonel Robert Tremont rides into camp offering freedom in exchange
for fighting on the front lines, Gabriel jumps at the opportunity. He
thrives as a soldier, but the end of the war leaves him adrift.

Gabriel ends up in New Orleans, where he meets Simone Livingston, a
fiercely independent woman with hidden scars of her own. Kept on a tight
rein by her overbearing father, Simone only wants freedom—and the
enigmatic Gabriel.

But Gabriel has unfinished business and a mind for vengeance. Will he be
able to create a peaceful life with Simone or will his greed and thirst for
retribution keep them trapped in a dangerous web of deceit—a web
Gabriel fears can only be untangled with murder.

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EXCERPT

Gabriel sat quietly in the bushes by the Pastor’s house for several hours, waiting and watching. Finally, the kerosene lamp was turned off. Gabriel followed the flickering light of one lone candle as it left the study and disappeared through an adjoining door. 

Gabriel continued to bide his time. Hours went by, but finally he emerged, dressed in dark shabby clothes, a cap pulled low over his eyes. Making sure he left no footprints, he approached the house. He had spent days watching the pastor’s activity. To get inside the house, he posed as one more hungry rebel, calling when he knew the pastor was not home. 

“Might there be somethin’ in yer fine home that needs fixin’? I work fer food or money.” He shifted his feet pathetically. “I got me an ailin’ wife and four young uns at home.” 

Mrs. Bell, one of the pastor’s white, long-time congregants, shook her head. “No, there’s nothing here for you to do. But come in, and I’ll see if I can’t find something for you to take home to your wife.” 

“God’s blessin’ be upon ya, ma’am, fer yer Christian charity.” Mrs. Bell ushered him into the pastor’s home and motioned him to sit on a bench in the hallway. She headed for the kitchen. 

Once Gabriel heard her in the back, he rose from the bench. It was a small, one-story structure, simple in its layout. The pastor’s study was the second door on Gabriel’s right, diagonal from the parlor. Gabriel entered the study, noticing a closed door. It was to the left of the pastor’s desk, whereas a window looking into the bushes was on the right. Gabriel went to the door and pushed it. There was a bed and nightstand against one wall and a bookshelf on the opposite wall. There were no windows. Gabriel’s gaze swept the room and he quickly retreated. 

He retraced his steps and sat down when Mrs. Bell reappeared with a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “Here,” she said, “some bread and molasses for your wife, and cookies for the children.” 

Gabriel stood up. “Thank ya kindly, ma’am.” 

“Your wife and family are in my prayers, sir,” said Mrs. Bell as he left the house. 

Gabriel relived that whole scenario as he eased open the front door. A fog swirled around him, a dewy shield against any witnesses. He felt his way carefully with a cane he had brought, as if he were a blind man. Tap, tap, tap, ever so softly, careful to detect any obstacles in his way. Tap, tap, tap, breach the doorway and round the corner. In his mind’s eye Gabriel could see the layout he’d canvassed just days before. 

He reached the pastor’s bedroom. Guided by the man’s soft snoring, Gabriel crept in. He had strapped a pillow under his baggy shirt; it doubled as disguise and weapon. 

Pastor Evans lay on his back, slack-jawed. He was no match for the man who stuffed the pillow so hard, so swiftly onto his face that he barely struggled. He certainly never uttered a sound.

Finally, Gabriel lifted the pillow and looked down. The man was dead, eyes wide open and mouth still agape. How unceremonious. 

Gabriel lit the candle on the nightstand and touched the flame to the pastor’s coverlet. With a snap it sprang to fiery life. 

Gabriel backed out of the room, closing the door as the flames engulfed the bed. He swiftly went to the study window, opened it, and climbed out. He then turned and closed the window; leave everything as you found it. Wiping his footprints from the dirt, he sidled to the front of the house and walked down the street. The neighbors were still asleep, oblivious to the inferno in their midst. 

He headed over to Poydras Street, to the corner of St. Charles where he had hidden a knapsack in a clump of ferns behind a rusted fleur-de-lis gate. Gabriel stepped into the shadows and when he re-emerged, his appearance was transformed. Beneath his workaday costume he had been wearing an elegant linen shirt and pants of fine wool. He now donned a pair of fake spectacles, a top hat, and a nicely cut wool jacket. 

He took his place on the street as a gentleman heading home. No questions would be asked of him. As he walked, his adrenaline began to level out and a growing satisfaction took its place. He had achieved justice for his beloved. He had made everything right.

About the Author

 

Jean Kravitz

As the quintessential queen of “what if,” Jean Kravitz
channeled her active imagination to pen her debut novel, Scars of Sand and
Soil. However, achieving her childhood dream of being a published writer was
not a straightforward path.

Jean earned a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a master’s
degree in human development and aging from the University of California, San
Francisco. She went into clinical research in pharmaceuticals, but left her
career when her children were born. Then, she picked up writing again, honed
her craft, published articles in a small newspaper, and passionately
immersed herself in historical research.

Jean has many interests, including reading, gardening, needlepoint, and
learning new languages. She lives in Southern California and has a husband,
two daughters, and two cats, Lenny and Penny.

 

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For Our Friends the Animals Virtual Book Tour

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Cultivating a Reverence for Life

 

Christian Nonfiction

 

Date Published: July 31, 2024

Publisher: BookBaby

 

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In For Our Friends the Animals, Robert Echols delivers a stirring spiritual call to action for Christians
and all people of conscience to embrace a reverence for life in its fullest
form.

Blending biblical truth, compassionate prayers, and the life-affirming
philosophy of Dr. Albert Schweitzer, this powerful work urges readers to see
animals not as commodities—but as beloved creations of God. In Part
One, Echols explores the deep moral and spiritual responsibility we hold
toward all creatures. In Part Two, he presents practical steps to confront
today’s most pressing animal welfare issues—from factory farming to
environmental degradation.

Whether you’re a lifelong advocate or someone opening your heart to new
possibilities,
For Our Friends the Animals
invites you into a faith-driven movement of empathy and transformation.
Through spiritual insight and practical guidance, the book empowers readers
to become stewards of compassion, protecting both creation and Creator’s
intention.

“This book is not just a read—it’s a spiritual pledge. A
call to embody Christ’s love by caring for those who cannot speak for
themselves.”

Join the movement. Embrace the message. Be the change.

 

For Our Friends the Animals paperback

EXCERPT

Chapter 1

Opening Prayers

 

Anima Christi sanctifica nos!

 

Our opening prayer—any opening prayer—has several purposes. Chief among those  is to begin to meditate and focus on a sense of contrition in which sins are admitted and mercy for those sins is requested. Additionally, the opening prayer serves to set forth and express the theme of our entire literary effort. The prayer may be uttered in silence or recited aloud, and either way, as a community it is a means for our unified prayers of the people to be gathered or collected and offered to the Father though Jesus as we seek forgiveness ourselves and offer it to others. As Jesus said, “For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly father will also forgive you.” Matt.6:14. 

We will employ two prayers to accomplish these tasks and goals, one known to have been written by Albert Schweitzer, and the other thought to have been written by him but without formal proof of authorship. As we pray and reflect upon these prayers, let us begin to understand and dwell on one of the chief themes of this celebration of the spirit of Jesus, of life: Namely, nurturing in us and then applying concertedly, outwardly, and liberally a merciful love for our fellow creatures. As we pray, let us experience the silent power of combined prayer, of many souls seeking enlightenment and guidance in their dealings with animals, praying for mercy and to be merciful.

 

There is a prayer for animals that Schweitzer composed and recited as a child. However, it is quite short and is not widely known. Here it is from Animals, Nature & Albert Schweitzer:

 

“O, heavenly Father, protect and bless all things that have breath; guard them from all evil, and let them sleep in peace.”

Here is the more common Prayer for Animals, which is attributed to Schweitzer, although there is a faction that holds that he was not the author. (This version is taken from the Pinterest website.)

 

A Prayer for Animals

Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends the animals,
especially for animals who are suffering;
for animals that are overworked, underfed and cruelly treated;
for all wistful creatures in captivity that beat their wings against bars;
for any that are hunted or lost or deserted or frightened or hungry;
for all that must be put death.
We entreat for them all Thy mercy and pity,
and for those who deal with them we ask a heart of compassion
and gentle hands and kindly words.
Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals,
and so to share the blessings of the merciful.

 

Our first commentary from Schweitzer is excerpted from one of his sermons from Albert Schweitzer. Reverence For Life. “The interior joy we feel when we have done a good deed, when we feel we have been needed somewhere and have lent a helping hand, is the nourishment the soul requires.” 

Additionally, Schweitzer sets out his conviction that humans must be a part of the spiritual world in order to be satisfied and at peace. But the doctor is keen to point out that our presence in the spiritual world must be an active one. Our soul is strengthened by the deeds we perform in the service of God. An active role in the service of Jesus, of bringing his wishes for us to fruition, is a theme found often in this book under various guises. We are called to lives of active compassion as our analysis of the foregoing prayers will indicate.

 

The first prayer is a charming childhood entreaty, presumably recited by the young Schweitzer before going to sleep. It is important because the prayer includes as its objects “all things”, all life, not just humans. This concept is the beginning of our journey, the commencement of understanding a reverence for life. We must seek and ourselves provide protection for all life, and indeed, in uttering this prayer we tacitly agree that all life is worthy of heavenly protection, and of ours. We acknowledge implicitly that all creatures are God’s creatures and merit His protection and our intercession for such protection.

This prayer also acknowledges the obvious—namely, that there is evil in this world, and as a result, cruel, unpleasant things can happen to any entity. Even as a boy, Schweitzer, perhaps indirectly, captures another important concept that we will continue to develop. This concept is the responsibility of every human being to prevent and preclude evil to the maximum extent possible. Evil does exist in this world, and much of that evil especially acts of cruelty and harm perpetrated upon creatures, domesticated and feral, is manmade. That we are responsible for acts of barbarity, and as a consequence that we are additionally responsible for ceasing those acts and preventing them wherever possible, is an awareness of life that came early to Schweitzer. 

There is a second sort of evil, perhaps more implicit than explicit in Schweitzer’s boyhood prayer, but certainly no less deserving of our attention. Evil perpetuated directly and purposefully on animals is painful enough to contemplate, but just as insidious and wrong is the evil of which we are aware but which we leave unattended, ignored, deliberately overlooked. Let’s face it, we humans know fully well how animals are maltreated, how they are forced to lead lives of pain, squalor, and terror, most often at our expense and on our behalf. Let us not turn a blind eye to such suffering; rather, may we acknowledge our responsibility for having caused such distress. Let us freely admit that no amount of clever packaging or sophistry, no amount of linguistic gymnastics can hide our guilt. There is as great an evil in being aware of wrongdoing and taking no action to counter it as there is in engaging in acts of malevolence. Let us seek and accept responsibility, not only for our own actions that cause suffering for animals, but for those of other people done to animals on our behalf. Let us accept responsibility for being able to speak out and actively oppose the infliction of such cruelty and for not having done so.

As we pray and reflect on our own behavior, let us be mindful of that responsibility. Let us not be blind to our actions or inactivity and their consequences, but let us have the courage and compassion to see ourselves as we are, and properly and accurately assess the outcomes toward animal life that our behavior brings about. Let us accept the plain truth that all life comes from God and that we who walk this earth as humans have a special obligation to protect God’s other creatures from harm.

 

Our second opening prayer introduces and touches upon several important ideas, ideas that will be developed throughout this portion of the book and the next. The first line makes mention of humility in “our humble prayer”. For too long humans have seen themselves as the focal point of existence, at the heart of life on earth, as the reason that life and the earth exist at all. This prayer asks us to reconsider our place, to come to the realization that we are one of many creatures on this planet, not at all special merely because of our presence. 

The first line then invokes the name of God for our petitions in an unmistakable acknowledgment that God is not only our creator, but the creator of all living things. There would be no point in seeking God’s help for animals were this not the case. In our prayers let us dwell on that crucial fact: All creatures come from God, and when we injure or mistreat any creature, in so doing we do great damage to our own solidarity with the Lord. We rebuff him by our misuse of those lives He has placed here. Finally, the first line makes clear our relationship with animals; they are our friends. As such, animals are not to be exploited, harmed, mistreated, or injured. They are not means to human ends. They enjoy as friends a special status with us; indeed, friendship brings with it an obligation of care. We owe a duty of care to our friends, and that duty extends to our friends the animals.

 

Lines two through six delineate in a ghastly way some examples of the ill treatment accorded animals by people and asks that God hear our prayer for those animals who are the recipients of that treatment. These lines are reflective of an all too common human phenomenon, the exploitation of animals for human greed, profit, and amusement. Work animals are seen as a means to an end, as a business asset to be worked as much as possible, cared for as little as possible (care costs money, after all), and to be discarded when no longer capable of turning a profit. 

Farm animals are often housed in deplorable conditions with their ability to move freely, indeed, to move at all, heartlessly curtailed. Their ability to lead a life, even remotely accordingly to their abilities and wishes is restricted at best and usually prevented entirely. Once deemed ready for slaughter, such animals are crammed together on arduous, torturous journeys that culminate in a bloody, frightening butchery. All to end up on our dinner table. 

Human amusement at animal enslavement finds manifestation in zoos, animal parks, animal shows, but also in horse and dog racing, even dog fighting and fighting among other species. Again, when an animal no longer can earn its keep and becomes merely a cost center, its life is ended, ignominiously and without ceremony or remorse. Let our thoughts turn to all these poor creatures, and may we reflect on just how badly we humans have dealt with them. May that reflection start us on the path to understanding and sympathy, toward viewing animals as friends, as fellow creatures, as lives to be respected and aided, not as tools to be worked and discarded when no longer useful.

 

The final five lines ask for “mercy and pity” for these beings, but the prayer also makes it clear that we humans must change our attitude and consequent behavior toward them. May we seek and find in our hearts the ability and strength to show compassion, to be gentle and kind, to be sympathetic even when we are derided by other humans for doing so. As our friends these animals are deserving of compassion, gentleness, and kindness from us, but the prayer is quite plain in stating that these traits are not common in humans now, that we must actively pray to receive such traits, and even more to the point, we must affirmatively change our behavior to incorporate those traits in our every action. We pray to God for His assistance in making those affirmative changes possible and enduring. We pray to God that our eyes and hearts may be opened to animal suffering, to the unassailable fact that so much suffering is human caused, and that with His help we may share “the blessings of the merciful” with our friends. May God grant us the ability not only to see animal suffering, but to acknowledge a sense of duty and obligation to alleviate it in every possible way we can. That is being active in the kingdom of God.

 

Chapter 2

 

We Begin Our Journey

 

The purpose of this chapter is officially to launch our journey to living a life of compassion, perhaps also described as our blueprint for coexistence. This section can and should be viewed as an introduction, a preparation, a commencement of activity and thought. Our prayers, quotations, and analyses help frame and kick off our voyage, but it is crucial to note that this is not a journey of one, of a person going it alone. Let us employ the ideas in this chapter and in this book, not only as a beginning, but a beginning of a combined effort, an occasion of concerted, allied thoughts and prayers, and ultimately unified action and behavior based on those thoughts and prayers.

 

Many times a psalm serves well to initiate a spiritual quest, so a psalm it shall be. Our psalm is a famous one in which the creative power of almighty God is celebrated. Please read it carefully and slowly before turning to Schweitzer’s comments and the analysis and argument. 

  • Psalm 104 (from the Holy Bible, New International Version)

Praise the Lord, my soul.

Lord my God, you are very great;
you are clothed with splendor and majesty.

The Lord wraps himself in light as with a garment;
he stretches out the heavens like a tent
3  and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters.
He makes the clouds his chariot
and rides on the wings of the wind.
He makes winds his messengers,
flames of fire his servants.

He set the earth on its foundations;
it can never be moved.
You covered it with the watery depths as with a garment;
the waters stood above the mountains.
But at your rebuke the waters fled,
at the sound of your thunder they took to flight;
they flowed over the mountains,
they went down into the valleys,
to the place you assigned for them.
You set a boundary they cannot cross;
never again will they cover the earth.

10 He makes springs pour water into the ravines;
it flows between the mountains.
11 They give water to all the beasts of the field;
the wild donkeys quench their thirst.
12 The birds of the sky nest by the waters;
they sing among the branches.
13 He waters the mountains from his upper chambers;
the land is satisfied by the fruit of his work.
14 He makes grass grow for the cattle,
and plants for people to cultivate—
bringing forth food from the earth;
15 wine that gladdens human hearts,
oil to make their faces shine,
and bread that sustains their hearts.
16 The trees of the Lord are well watered,
the cedars of Lebanon that he planted.
17 There the birds make their nests;
the stork has its home in the junipers.
18 The high mountains belong to the wild goats;
the crags are a refuge for the hyrax.

19 He made the moon to mark the seasons,
and the sun knows when to go down.
20 You bring darkness, it becomes night,
and all the beasts of the forest prowl.
21 The lions roar for their prey
and seek their food from God.
22 The sun rises, and they steal away;
they return and lie down in their dens.
23 Then people go out to their work,
to their labor until evening.

24 How many are your works, Lord!
In wisdom you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.
25 There is the sea, vast and spacious,
teeming with creatures beyond number—
living things both large and small.
26 There the ships go to and fro,
and Leviathan, which you formed to frolic there.

27 All creatures look to you
to give them their food at the proper time.
28 When you give it to them,
they gather it up;
when you open your hand,
they are satisfied with good things.
29 When you hide your face,
they are terrified;
when you take away their breath,
they die and return to the dust.
30 When you send your Spirit,
they are created,
and you renew the face of the ground.

31 May the glory of the Lord endure forever;
may the Lord rejoice in his works—
32 he who looks at the earth, and it trembles,
who touches the mountains, and they smoke.

33 I will sing to the Lord all my life;
I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.
34 May my analysis and argument be pleasing to him,
as I rejoice in the Lord.
35 But may sinners vanish from the earth
and the wicked be no more.

Praise the Lord, my soul.

Praise the Lord.

 

Schweitzer’s commentary is excerpted from one of his sermons. “When our wills are united with the will of God, we never take all the goodness and beauty and people and things in life for granted, but we accept them again and again as a gift from him—given that we may serve him with still greater joy and thank him for it…” 

 

In his book, Reverence for Life, Schweitzer often reiterates his thesis and theme of an active service to God through hearing and heeding the words of Jesus. Schweitzer asserts that in such service we will especially come to know Jesus more and more and gradually acknowledge him as our master. Additionally, by virtue of increased familiarity with Jesus, we unite more and more with our fellow humans, confident that as a unified front we can help bring about the world Jesus sought to achieve. 

May this psalm assist us in gaining perspective on creation, as it so plainly identifies God as the creator of all things, for our purposes, all life. “The earth is full of your creatures.” As this passage truly opens the argument of this book, let the words of this psalm open our hearts and minds to the magnificence and sacredness of life. May we realize that we are but one of God’s creatures. May we give thanks for our creation, and in giving thanks may we understand that all life is created by God, all life is under His protection, doing His bidding. May we realize and accept that His bidding for us requires that we care and nurture all life. 

For this purpose were we made, that through us and our actions His creatures might live as they were intended to live, free from human domination and devastation, able to enjoy their lives to the fullest extent. May this psalm remind us that we all live and die, that we all inhabit this earth together, and that harm to any of God’s creatures is a rebuke of God’s kindness and love. Such a rebuke is an unforgivable sin. As the psalm ends: “…may sinners vanish from the earth and the wicked be no more.” May we in our thoughts and deeds seek to show care and compassion to all creatures, just as we implore the Lord to show His mercy to us.

 

As we turn our thoughts to God, let us also turn our attention to the requirement for praying, then acting in unison. While an alteration in our attitudes and subsequent alteration of behavior must and will start with each of us individually, let us reflect also on the requisite need for unity. As a large cadre of believers committed to acting with compassion we can effect change as no one individual can. So, as we pray and meditate on the gift of life that has been bestowed upon us, without our asking and without our meriting, let us in this introductory phase start to contemplate and embed in our hearts and minds the transformation in the treatment of animals that a united front of affirmative, active compassion can bring about.

 

It takes neither intense thought nor imagination to visualize and understand the interlocked nature of all life. There is a fine balance to life on earth, and upsetting that balance anywhere, at any time places life—all life—in peril. For too long we humans have not only acted with individual selfishness, but we have acted selfishly as a species. We have blithely and deliberately ignored the harm that we have caused other life forms on this planet. We have viewed the world as produced and in existence solely for human life and purposes. Only recently has that view begun to shift, as the legitimacy of the “butterfly effect”, as it is now commonly understood, is more and more strengthened with each environmental catastrophe that occurs. Only recently has some widespread thought been given to the idea that animals have rights as well, and that we human animals are called to be guarantors of those rights. May we humans, then, pray not only to act in concert with each other, but in concert with all life. More and more may people seek ways of bringing responsible stewardship of the earth, of all life to bear on all our activities.

 

Chapter 3

 

We Ask for Mercy and Learn to Give It

 

In this chapter we discuss the concept of mercy. Mercy is a simple concept. At its basic level mercy involves the ability of one entity with the capacity to wield destructive or harmful results on a second entity, but choosing not to do so. It is an option the first entity need not select, but one it opts for out of compassion.

 

One of the most effective ancient prayers of mercy was the Kyrie. In the Kyrie we beg for mercy. We repeat three times. Kyrie eleison, Lord have mercy. Christe eleison, Christ have mercy.

 

From the website fwdioc.org comes the following disquisition on mercy.

 

“In reciting the liturgical responses, ‘Lord have mercy… Christ have mercy… Lord have mercy,’ we become like David, repenting of our sins and asking for God’s forgiveness. We become like the blind men begging for Christ to heal our own weaknesses and lack of spiritual vision. We become like the fathers in the Gospel, pleading for Jesus to act in the lives of those we love. In saying Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy)…, we humbly entrust our entire lives—all our weaknesses, sins, fears and sufferings—and the lives of those we love, to the merciful heart of Christ. 

“As…Thomas Howard expressed, this cry for God’s mercy sums up all the pleas of a fallen world. He says, In the Kyrie…we may hear the fathomless cry of the whole race of man ascending to heaven from the depths. Kyrie! goes up from all widows, and all dispossessed and brutalized children, and from all the maimed, and the prisoners and exiles, and from every sick-bed, and indeed from all the wounded beasts, and, we could believe, from all rivers and seas stained with man’s filth and landscapes scarred by his plunder. In the liturgy, somehow, we stand before the Lord in behalf of his whole groaning creation. And beyond the liturgy: When we hear the groaning of creation, when we see an animal suffering, or some child or hear an ambulance pass, we say ‘Kyrie eleison!’ as the liturgy has taught us. We are priests, remember, through our Baptism; and one of the tasks of the priest is to intercede for others who don’t or can’t pray for themselves. This mystical entrusting of all humanity and indeed, all creation, to the infinite mercy of Christ is what we enter into each time we recite the Kyrie…”


Our commentary on the concept of mercy comes from Schweitzer as set forth in the book, The Animal World of Albert Schweitzer.

 

“We can do nothing about the cruelty which exists among nature’s living creatures. We ourselves, however, as people who have learned wisdom, must not train animals to provide entertainment for us by the cruel murder of their poor victims.” 

Here, the doctor does acknowledge that cruelty exists in nature, but he adjures all of us never to add to the already existent cruelty. Rather, he insists that it is incumbent upon us to demonstrate as much mercy and compassion as we possibly can muster. Schweitzer recognizes that we humans often, too often, bring pain and suffering to our fellow creatures, often mindlessly and for no valid purpose. Because of our actions Schweitzer calls on us to impose a duty on ourselves to act mercifully wherever and whenever possible.

 

And from Animals, Nature and Albert Schweitzer: “How much effort will it take for us to get men to understand the words of Jesus, ‘Blessed are the merciful’, and to bring them to the realization that their responsibility includes all creatures. But we must struggle with courage.”

 

Mercy. This is our cry to God to be mindful of our weaknesses and to take them into account in judging us. Even more to the point, the request for mercy is a tacit admission of the differing levels of power between the requester and to whom the request is made. It is an acknowledgment that God reigns supreme over us, that we are indeed, at His mercy.

Animals stand to us in nearly the same position as we stand to God. Though many animals are stronger and faster than we humans, through our intellect, our ability to work in concert, and through our sheer numbers, we are the dominant species on this planet. A crucial difference—most animals cannot ask us for mercy. By their very existence on earth, and by ours, animals beg for mercy each day. We must give it willingly and often, never waiting for a formal prayer or invocation. They ask to be left unhurt, never needlessly killed or cruelly exploited, never abused or abandoned, never caged or enslaved. Their cries for mercy simply ask us to function as stewards of all life on this planet. Mercy means humans exercise self-restraint and realize that every human action carries with it consequences for all life on earth.

And here let us dwell on a theme that will be recurrent in this book: It is not enough to pray for some kindly quality, mercy in this case. We must pray for the courage, energy, and ability to act on and bring about the desired state of affairs. To pray to be infused with mercy is a start, but only a start. Mercy cannot exist if it is kept in thought alone. Mercy by its very definition requires positive acts of charity and care. Mercy requires an involvement in life, that we take an active role. May we pray then, as we ask God to take an active role in our lives by showing us mercy, to take that same active role with all beings with whom we are involved. May we pray to act affirmatively, to help life that we encounter, to ease pain and suffering as much as we can.

Without ever being asked to do so, let us show mercy in our role of trustee and caretaker by affording animals a chance to live their lives in accordance with their nature. Let us be merciful by not hunting, not eating meat, not destroying habitats, not over breeding or breeding for fighting or racing, by not abandoning animals we have brought into this world. Above all, let us be merciful by adopting and living an affirmative duty of compassion, of care. Let us not only seek to avoid the infliction of harm, but let us positively act to redress harm where we find it. As we seek protection from God’s awesome power, may we stay our own hand and offer protection to all the animals that inhabit this planet with us. That is mercy.

 

Chapter 19

Marching Orders

 

And now come our final marching orders. We’ve learned that a reverence for life, the love and compassion of the Sermon on the Mount of Jesus made universal, is our chosen philosophy, our ethos. A reverence for life will guide us in our relations with all life, especially with other animals, if we allow it to do so. But what are we to do? Are there indeed marching orders that will dictate our behavior? Is there a set of written rules setting forth right and wrong behavior between humans and other animals? Is there a prescribed code of conduct for us that we can print, frame, and hang on a wall for all to see?

The answer is “No!” A reverence for life is spiritual, not legalistic. A reverence for life exists in our souls and hearts, and our brains, too, but not as a codex of laws. A reverence for life is an attitude toward all other creatures that we must consciously and continuously choose and strive to follow. It is about having the spirit of Jesus in us, directing us toward acts of love and compassion. Perhaps Albert Schweitzer puts it best: “Philosophy wants to imagine ethics as a well-ordered system of duties and commandments which can be fulfilled…  Love cannot be put into a system of rules and regulations. It issues absolute commands. Each of us must decide for himself how far he can go toward carrying out the boundless commandment of love without surrendering his own existence and must decide, too, how much of his life and happiness he must sacrifice to the life and happiness of others.”

 

There is a  change in the offing that is shifting how humans view our place in the world. While most religions and philosophies celebrate the primacy of humans, more and more of us question how this can be. How can humans be considered in a strictly positive and adulatory light when the human race through its many depredations has become the supreme destroyer. The Sixth Extinction is upon us, and it is the result solely and totally of human action and inaction. Our “rap sheet” is almost too much to bear. We slaughter and ingest hundreds of billions of innocent animals each year. We destroy countless habitats to the tune of 160,000 square kilometers annually. The destruction of each such square kilometer brings with it the attendant loss of wildlife, all life within that boundary. We over breed domesticated animals and use them solely for our amusement and profit, tossing them on the dung heap of existence when we are through with them, when they can not earn another penny for us. We pollute the biosphere, pollute the land, pollute the oceans, and even have left our debris in space and on the moon.

 

Religions, being anthropocentric as they are, all too often blithely ignore all this carnage in celebration of the human being. Human responsibility for the Sixth Extinction, for the harm we have caused the biosphere and all who live within it, is seldom dealt with by any religion. It is merrily ignored in the name of human triumphalism, and many people, young and old alike, are realizing that this state of affairs cannot continue; it is not sustainable. More and more people have come to the conclusion that the human race is not the be all and end all of existence; rather, we are a part of life on this planet, charged by our intellect and organizational capacity with an obligation of stewardship for all life. We must be guardians of life, accepting a responsibility of an active compassion for life, rather than its exploitation as usurpers and butchers. Schweitzer identified this cause a century ago in his philosophy of a Reverence for Life. What is needed is an ethic of universal love, the marvelous and limitless love of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount made universal, applied to all life, not just humans. To quote Schweitzer: “a [person] is ethical, only where life, as such, is sacred to him, that of plants and animals as that of his fellowmen, and when he devotes himself helpfully to all life that is in need of help.”

If religion is to survive and thrive it will find ways of weaving Schweitzer’s Reverence for Life into its ethical and credal fabric. Those religions that accomplish this will survive and grow in the twenty-first century and beyond. Those that don’t will end up on the list of failures subsumed under the rubric, ”a creed outworn”. Perhaps Pope Francis says it best for our time: “All creation has an intrinsic value that is independent of its usefulness.” Or perhaps even better is the message of his namesake, St. Francis of Assisi: “God requires that we assist the animals, when they need our help. Each being (human or creature) has the same right of protection.” 

 

Then how do we deal with animals? Let’s return to the litany of horrid human behavior presented in Chapter 14. One approach would be to compile a list of “thou shalts” and “thou shalt nots” and post it for all to see. That is diametrically opposed to a reverence for life. That simply won’t work for many reasons. 

One, life is seldom that simple, seldom a matter of black or white. Two, no list could possibly cover every situation or give reasonable, actionable guidance for every case. There are too many possibilities and permutations to be encountered in life to reduce each one to a written dictum, and most importantly, only a reverence for life calls upon us to apply love and compassion across the board, acting affirmatively to render assistance or otherwise better a situation we encounter. Acting out of conscious love, not out of written commands. A reverence for life calls upon adherents to get involved in every situation, in every encounter, not simply avoiding certain behavior or certain occasions but always choosing to act in a positive way with the welfare of the subject of our acts uppermost in our minds.

Then, without hard and fast rules, what are we to do? A reverence for life leaves it up to us. We are called to acknowledge the inherent value and worth of every life, to view every life as an end in itself rather than a means for human purposes, to promote and enhance life rather than take it, restrict it, or abuse it, and to practice affirmative acts of compassion, caring, and relief of suffering to the maximum extent we can.

What does all this mean for you? Simply this: You are, each one of is, an autonomous individual who must make moral and ethical judgments, sometimes many of them, every day. No one else can do it for you. Ultimately each one of us is responsible for his actions or failures to act. Each situation is different, and it calls upon us to assess the situation with a critical eye, open mind, and compassion filled heart. Take ownership of your life. Be certain that every act reflects the moral underpinning of a reverence for life, and do the best you can.

Some broad examples as regards treatment of animals? Sure. Should I eat meat or animal flesh? That’s your choice, your decision. You must assess the ethics of taking an innocent life for your wants. You must assess the state of animal agriculture, mindful of the horrible, often cruel treatment accorded fellow creatures by humans. You must decide whether, if you are to adhere to a reverence for life as your guide, you can ingest the product of such life taking and life cruelty with its attendant degradation of the environment. You must make the same type of analysis for horse and dog racing, animal parks and zoos, trade in wildlife and attendant slaughter, destruction of habitats for human wants, animal fighting and over breeding, and the list goes on as we’ve previously seen.

 

And now here are just a few specific examples of cruelty toward animals that we are called to oppose and combat. These are excerpts from past ruminations and are presented to give the reader additional ideas on how to approach and analyze this difficult topic.

Changes in animal agriculture will result only in response to consumer changes. If meat, dairy, poultry, and pork consumption decrease, agriculturalists, who are not stupid, will shift to those crops and foods that consumers are eating. The more that people shift to a vegetarian or vegan diet, the fewer cattle, dairy, poultry, and pork slaughtering and rendering facilities we will have. As the number of those facilities dwindles, presumably the environmental issues they create will dwindle as well, and humans may yet live another century or more without having totally fouled our own nest, without having totally destroyed our own earth.

Ah, but there’s the rub, for the earth is not ours, despite anthropocentric leanings to the contrary. Humans are one species out of millions, called by our incredible intelligence and equally incredible organizational skill to be stewards of our world. It is high time that the human race made the transition from usurper of earth’s bounty to its protector. Let us then, particularly young people who will shape the future of this planet, pledge drastically to reduce meat consumption, not only because it is good for our health and for our environment, but for the simple reason that cruel, inhumane treatment as well as any unnecessary killing of a living thing is wrong. 

And that’s the most important point of all. It is galling to note how many people are upset at the trade in dog, cat, and horse meat outside the United States, but those same people don’t care a whit for the millions of other domesticated animals who are tortured and butchered right here for our pleasure. This is the most pressing issue for humanity to deal with; namely, the barbaric, inhumane treatment accorded farm animals throughout their miserable lives. This must stop. We humans must evidence a reverence for life, all life, taking those actions that enhance and promote life, and avoiding those actions that hinder or harm life. In this way, one by one, we will change not only the practices of animal ag, but our relationship with all life within the biosphere. Another crucial issue with regard to treatment of animals deals with breeding. To help guide our thinking, here is a quick analysis and argument on horse breeding and one of its main offshoots, horse racing. 

With a reverence for life as our ethos, we need some basic standards to help reduce the number of unwanted horses and to provide better care for those that are bred. Again, breeders must first agree that animals are not commodities, but rather are lives worthy of reverence and compassionate stewardship, meaning that horses shall be bred for companionship only and only when their proper care is assured. We must have further restrictions on breeding, which restrictions include at a minimum casual breeding licenses, a strict limit on the number of times a mare can be bred, veterinarian oversight and certification of the breeding process, and a license provision permitting county animal control officials to inspect the mother, offspring, and facilities where breeding is taking place should those officials have reason to suspect the horses are not in good health or otherwise not humanely cared for.

While we push for an end to horse racing and thereby breeding for horse racing (one of the chief causes of the unwanted horse population), due to money and memes a reversal of the status quo is unlikely soon, so let’s work for some achievable results. There are tens (perhaps hundreds) of thousands of unwanted horses from the racing and rodeo sports that end up slaughtered. Far too many horses, those bred for racing and in general, end up unloved and neglected. Many more are neglected or otherwise maltreated before being moved on from the industries that brought them into being. Horses are costly, so once they become money losers many are slaughtered, abandoned, or otherwise barely cared for, if at all.

Again, these are creatures brought into the world largely due to human volition and action, so, at the very least, we owe something to the creatures we have created for our own needs and then abandoned when those needs were no longer met. Part of the license fee for breeding horses must include a sizable amount payable to the county where the horses are kept to pay for a horse sanctuary. This place would afford all those horses who are no longer wanted, for whatever reason, a place of safety and compassion where they can live out their lives. The license fee would also help pay for vet and farrier care, food, and sanctuary upkeep. Those horses that could be adopted out should be given that opportunity (with proper safeguards to ensure the adopting party will care for the horse lovingly and not ship it directly to the slaughterhouse), but any abandoned horse will be welcomed and tended to.

A look around any part of the world, or our beautiful state, will confirm that we humans live in a throwaway society. When an item is no longer useful or pleasurable, we discard it with scant heed to the consequences. Sadly this philosophy pervades our dealings with horses. These animals are viewed as things to be used and then discarded when no longer useful. We must start seeing these creatures as lives with their own intrinsic value, and because of that possessing under natural law a right to exist, to be cared for, and to live their lives to the fullest. As it is we humans who have brought these horses into this world, we owe them that and so much more. Under the aegis of a reverence for life, let us treat these horses with compassion and stewardship all through their lives.

Now let us set forth one final analysis, one on dog fighting, to help you formulate your own analysis and subsequent ethos. Dog fighting is an illegal, underground blood spectacle in which selectively bred dogs fight each other to the death for the plaudits, pleasure, and remuneration of humans. These dogs undergo vicious, horrific training that includes beatings, deprivations, and often the injection of illegal, performance-enhancing substances. They “practice” on smaller dogs, cats, rabbits, even raccoons until their “trainers” believe they are ready for the ring. Losers are either killed outright or left to die. Statistics on dog fights are hard to come by, as this activity is illegal in every state, but animal groups estimate that there are 40,000 dog fighters in the United States with some 16,000 dogs dying annually. This means that there are probably hundreds of thousands of “spectators”, and all these figures may well be just the tip of the iceberg.

 

To breed, train, and force an animal to inflict damage and death on another creature solely for the enjoyment and financial gain of a few humans is simply abhorrent to all that is decent and compassionate. It is in complete violation of the philosophy of a reverence for life, of the belief that all life is sacred, and each life should be permitted to express normal behavior, not behavior induced and compelled by exploitative humans. To cause harm in this manner is simply vile and utterly inhumane. These dogs by the way are usually quite gentle with humans. In fact, they have enough affection for their human handlers literally to die for them. To treat these animals as we do is the ultimate betrayal of trust.

Each situation of animal cruelty cited in Chapter 14 (and the limited examples discussed in the analysis and argument above) has hundreds if not thousands of current examples. We picked a representative few to detail the extent of the crisis facing us and to assist us in bringing a reverence for life to bear on these situations. How do we handle them?

 

In each case your duty is to assess clearly and openly the behavior toward animals by humans, often done on your behalf. Don’t turn a blind eye, engage in wishful thinking or bowdlerization phrasing to hide the reality of what transpires. Then you must contrast that behavior with the behavior called for by a reverence for life (love, compassion, life enhancement and stewardship, the reduction of suffering), and decide honestly what you will do. 

Our marching orders then are a model of simplicity. Filled with the spirit and buoyed by the words of Jesus, take the philosophy, the ethos of a reverence for life, and affirmatively bring it to bear in your world. Show and share the love and compassion of Jesus. View all life as sacred, as God’s handiwork. Seek to utilize our extraordinary human abilities to enhance life, all lives, and to lessen the suffering of those lives when and where you are able to do so. As you step out of your door each day, resolve to put a reverence for life into practice. Do so and you will most assuredly be helping Jesus complete His life’s work. God bless you.

 

About the Author

Robert Echols

Robert Echols is a spiritual author, thought leader, and passionate
advocate for animals and all of God’s creation. As the author of
For Our Friends the Animals: Cultivating a Reverence for Life, Echols blends Christian spirituality, biblical wisdom, and the moral
philosophy of Dr. Albert Schweitzer to offer a powerful message: we are
called to protect and uplift all living beings.

A cancer survivor and U.S. Army veteran, Robert’s life journey has been
guided by service—to his country, his faith, and now, to the voiceless
creatures that share our planet. He is the founder and former president of
the For Our Friends the Animals Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to
financially supporting animal shelters, rescues, and sanctuaries. Under his
leadership, the foundation funded the construction of animal shelters in
Florida, putting faith into action and making his life his argument, as
Schweitzer once wrote.

Robert frequently shares his message of compassion on LinkedIn, in
podcasts, and as a guest speaker throughout the Mobile Bay, Alabama area.
With academic credentials from Phillips Exeter Academy, New York University,
and Emory University (J.D./M.B.A.), and a past career as an ethics officer
and Army JAG attorney, Robert’s voice is both seasoned and deeply
principled.

His current writing project is a four-volume spiritual treatise titled For Our Friends the Animals, empowering others to embrace a universal love rooted in Christ’s
teachings and a reverence for all life.

“Let my words inspire you to become a steward of the earth and a
champion for animals—because the love of Jesus is not just for
humanity, but for all creation.”

 

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The Matrix Opal Virtual Book Tour

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A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

Book 1 of the Duchy Wars

 

Science Fiction

 

Date Published: 03-25-2025

 

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A rewarding travelogue through a richly drawn world and its cultures,
this arresting series-starter finds Atrium, a master of anthropological
science fiction, inviting in new readers with an enticing hook. Bybiis has the
talent of a beastmaster, enabling her to command a host of creatures. For
this, she is tortured and inked with magic-suppressing tattoos. Bybiis and
Ariseng, from the Siibabean forest, are warned by a mystic shopkeeper,
Ariseng’s aunt, that the two are “stronger together than either is
alone.”

The Matrix Opal tablet

EXCERPT

Opaque mist with the scent of evergreen and anise is receding to reveal sandstone walls. To lead the visitors to the high dry place that whispering people are using for gatherings. To be simple is the walking, but Arrivi guests are picking their steps and wiping their brows and talking together. Returning softly are their sighs, echoing among the obelisks. The stone forest is hoarding echoes of heroes from seasons past. Never fading are these returning sounds. 

To be asking what? Orissa’s lies! To use your Cochin words well enough. The subject before the verb. And to correct your words is my right too, are you thinking?

Sure, to make myself understood. Glad to.

To be arriving together … they arrive together … returning from a khalif’s funeral, the guests are disembarking from one fixed-wing plane, alright?

Uninvited guests attracted by the torture of Bybiis the beastmaster, to be spying our goods at the bazaar table. What? They … they are spying … browsing our goods, asking for matrix opal. 

To know what is matrix opal. Oh, fine. Matrix opal be’s known to me: good enough?

I know about matrix opal. 

There, in five words or less. To keep this up, I can go all day, your love of pronouns. He, she, shit, they, and I – always with the I. Me, me, shit, me. Never looking past your noses. 

To be making an effort to learn my language, which of you be’s stepping up?

So… uninvited guests arrive here to enjoy the torture of Bybiis and approach the worktable in Dianko’s bazaar where my cousins trade for Stroenuk slate. The female commander Omiibuk of high acclaim, Osal the sailor with his own ship, and Baleb the silk merchant who be’s known to us. Bringing with them a pregnant woman, a real worrier by the name of Kelly, a poet and the wife of Rufus el Arrivi. 

Being a wrong term is Stroenuk, but you are not caring. Men who can shiver slate from the towers in our stone forest are Stroenuk, only them, but using the term in hard tones is your choice. Not even knowing the word’s value. And blame is settling on me. 

Enough Cochin for you that is being?

Kelly has coppery hair braided down her back. A roomy leather vest with a long rear panel is hers, and tying her skirt into pantaloons over wide sandals that mostly are not sinking into the molasse. “The path is uncertain in this mist,” Kelly says between ragged breaths. “What signposts to guide us?” She is touching the sandstone wall for balance, tangent to a ward of direction and nearly making it flare. 

I choose to pick the new leaves of a striisnia succulent. I gesture to Kelly. “Under your tongue for easier breathing.” Kelly is turning the leaf over in her palm, and rubbing it clean of any grit. “And for my companions?” 

Omiibuk is staying in the town, not counting our task as important. Osal the sailor is seeming steady, glancing around as if counting the towers. Baleb el Yahya is sweating and sighing like city folk. Store-bought slip-on shoes with an eel skin vest over linens. To be well supplied is Baleb’s rucksack as though my cousins are helping him to plan this journey. 

To offer Kelly … I offer Kelly two more new leaves and, turning away, I am hearing them debate the relative risks and benefits.

In a long tube with a strap, Kelly is carrying a map and several images of the summits of our stone towers. Yesterday, she is rolling out the map on the merchant’s table and wanting me to admire the features, claiming that her tribe is living on the savannah beyond the Striiduc ridges, calling our sacred forest a rift valley of thin towers in regular rows that are shaped when the plateau is shivered by con-ti-nen-tal drift. She is wanting me to nod at her use of the big words. 

Honor she is expecting for her few Cochin words mixed with Arrivi? No attempt is made before today to know the whispering people. No attempts by Arrivi to rescue us from the torturer.  

Only because payment is made am I leading them on the path. I wait for them to catch up with their stumbling steps. Kelly is wiping sweat from her brow. “So easy to get turned around. How do you find the path?”

I lick two fingers and touch the tower wall, then lick them again. “Sandstone,” I say with a jerky gesture to show alternating ridges beyond. “Next is limestone.” I flail the air with my hand to show more distant ridges. “Next is slate and nickel. After that is only basalt.”

“And the opal is in the basalt?”

“Opal all around. Os-si-fied in cracks. Easy to dislodge.”

“And the matrix opal?”

Like that word is unknown. Matrix opal I am seeing many times, the tendrils of black basalt obvious against the milky gemstone. To walk ahead and consider choosing a longer path that is boggy. To take the high path, not for Kelly and her friends, but to honor the whispering people who are waiting. 

Yeah, yeah. To use my pronouns, to posit the self in front of events that must follow in my wake. Events all around, not waiting for Arrivi guests to sort them. 

The dry place is a squat plateau rising from the molasse, surrounded on three sides by totems that are seeming to gather in council. Behind them, the many towers of our stone forest are emerging from the morning mist as if to spy the intruders, reflecting sunlight with the warm flavors of pine and tamarind. 

Elder Aremore waits, a bundle of bones wrapped in linen decorated with leather strands beaded with opals. Behind her are Froon and Faulk. I bow with fingertips touching my collarbone before stepping back, ignoring Kelly’s demand for greeting. Faulk is grabbing my arm. “To be bringing them here?” 

I jerk away from him. “Payment be’s made in the bazaar.”

Aremore is circling the fingers of a bony hand, and Faulk is falling silent. She is gesturing that the three intruders may sit cross-legged on the ground. They are spending time in greeting, and Kelly is rolling out her aerial map of which she be’s so proud. 

So boring is their talk, like the public torture happens never before. In Dianko while the first tattoos are added to the shoulder of Bybiis, grackles are flocking with harsh cries, and the erriv are aborting twins. An infestation of spiders, not uncommon in this season, seems to be called forward by her suffering. More tattoos are added to the skin of Bybiis and the beasts are settling, thus showing the suppression of her talent by applying the skin wards. 

Aremore is signaling for me to step forward. “Advising these ones in Dianko is your duty now. Spend the day with them tomorrow.”

I know Aremore and her ways. She is sending me out because I am having no value to them. “What benefit is coming to me?”

“To be named to the council of the whispering people is your mother in her turn.”

“No appeal in a future benefit.”

We are hearing the insects buzz while Aremore considers what to offer. Her leadership is extending past her prime. Dislodging her is sacrificing little in my view. “To attend the college on Moorea, a sister is wanting. We are not refusing.”

“Both sisters, leaving before I agree. Travel costs and tuition are for you.” Aremore grudgingly nods. “And what for me who is risking all?”

Aremore smirks; her turn for securing a favor. “These foreign men are wondering why you must be the advisor. Show them.”

“Only describe.”

“To show is more convincing.”

“My word is my bond.”

Aremore is removing a chain over her head that is holding a platinum brooch. Nestled within the scrollwork is the matrix opal of Orissa, the famous opal of seeing. “For your journey tomorrow.”

“A day trip?”

“For as long as you advise. But … these ones must have proof of the testing.”

“What proof are they offer–”

Froon and Faulk are grabbing my arms and forcing me to my knees with my back toward the intruders. Ignoring my struggles, Froon loosens my belt and is pulling the tunic to reveal a colorful tattoo between my shoulder blades and extending to my waist. Two newts, one with feathery gills raised, are circling in a courting dance. The marbled backs of the tattooed newts are covering inert wards. To be bottom feeders in our ponds are newts, the choice of image an insult to the whispering people. I am showing no tears, though, and no sobbing. I raise my chin, and my back is straight. Let the intruders have their fun. 

Aremore is handing the chain to Froon who is slipping it over my head so the brooch rests against the tattoo, against the larger newt’s head. I feel the chain’s weight and the cool platinum. “Ariseng is having the talent to create wards and making others flare,” Aremore is telling the intruders. “The warden in Dianko is believing that Ariseng’s talent is suppressed by tattoos, that her skill is tainted. The same is possible for your Bybiis. Show them.”

I struggle against the strong grip of the men. My talent is my own.

“A Dianko warden before,” Aremore tells Kelly, “is having a skill, but many seasons ago. This current torturer is adding a wrong structure. Against the black skin of Bybiis the lines of tattoo are not showing, so adding color becomes his new business for appeal.”

With my back turned, I am hearing Kelly sigh. She is making no objection to the display of my flesh, I notice, allowing them to shame me. “The talent of Ariseng is not suppressed?” Kelly whispers. 

“Show them,” Aremore insists to me. I only shake my head, and she sighs with exasperation. “The brooch you may keep for the women of your family for as long as echoes are sounding in the stone forest.”

I turn my head to consider her bargain. “And the matrix opal of Orissa belongs to me only.” Aremore is nodding and looks away. “Say it,” I insist.

“Ariseng be’s the one true holder of the matrix opal of Orissa.”

I shrug off the restraining arms. I straighten my back and square my shoulders so the brooch is resting on the center of the tattoo design, in a space between the newt bodies. I place my left hand on the right hand and my doubled palms on the dry place, feeling the gritty warmth of my home. A slight buzzing is sounding in my ears. My touch is revealing the blue glow of wards etched into the sandstone. Foreign guests are sitting on a circling blue pattern of Orissa’s wards that is extending into the long pathways of the molasse. 

Sweat is showing on my forehead. I feel the sting of salt in my eyes. I slowly release my breath, tasting anise. On the closest obelisks, the connecting wards for direction and stamina are coming alive in the sunlight, flaring in a rush before fading when I remove my hands from the sacred ground. The caw of a murmurey bird is resounding in echoes, and she launches from the high branch so that her shadow is passing over our gathering. Whispering together are these intruders, impressed with the bird’s leaving.

“Not curtailed is Ariseng’s talent,” Aremore tells the visitors. “To be making Ore’s torture stop, Bybiis must agree that repression is successful.”

“We value your advice,” Kelly says to her. “We are doing as you suggest.”

I only straighten the tunic and stand, looking down at Aremore. I double the chain so the brooch is resting on my breastbone. “My sisters leave for college before I am leaving with these ones.” 

She nods and looks away. 

Kelly and the two men are closely watching. The shoulders of Osal are moving like he sways to some music. His leathers are laced with wards for protection, but not for him. Grabbed up from the original owner this vest is being. How can Osal believe the wards are helping him when they are made for a man who is dead? 

“Serving is not my duty,” I tell Kelly. “Running errands and to follow orders are not for Ariseng. Advice is offered when I am having some, but demanding is not the good choice.”

Kelly is holding a palm high and horizontal as if to receive alms. “We are honored that one of talent deigns to walk the path with us. We agree to your terms.”

About the Author

Stella Atrium

 

Stella Atrium is a cynical septuagenarian who has spent a lifetime
exploring female characters for real world reactions to obstacles. Often
pushed into submissive and non-verbal roles, women really live in a world of
networking among aunties, cousins, wives of husbands, convenient friends and
neighbors. This rich world is largely unexplored.

“I grew up with all brothers, so I knew about women from stories and
from school. What I found at school wasn’t anything like in the stories,
so I set out to learn why.”

 

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Kill Beth Virtual Book Tour

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Horror/Psychological

Date Published: June 12, 2025

Publisher: Deadbolt Books

 

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After a horrific incident fifteen years ago, theater director Mike
O’Brien never planned to return to Seattle. But when his estranged best
friend sends him a script he can’t ignore, Mike finds himself back in
the city with a spotlight on his troubled past.

As rehearsals begin, so do the nightmares. Strange figures keep him up at
night, the production is plagued by one horrific accident after another, and
everywhere he goes he can’t help but see the same message: Kill Beth.
The strange thing is, Mike doesn’t know anyone named Beth, or how he
could ever be capable of killing anyone.

When his world descends into chaos, Mike has to ask if he’s being
haunted by his past, or if there is some sinister force working behind the
curtain to derail his life.

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EXCERPT

Conversations continue, and with each passing moment, more tension
eases off. A connection is forming with this group. Maybe I have been too
hard on myself for all these years. Perhaps there is a way to be friendly with
my cast and still be a good director.
Nearly an hour passes, and there is no sign of things slowing down.
Cassandra and I chat about the worst shows we have ever been attached to.
She goes deep-sea fishing in the half-melted cooler, trying to find another
drink.
“You want one?” she asks, finally pulling out a can.
“No, I don’t drink,” I say.
She squints at me, as if trying to tell if I am joking or not. “You sure
about that?” She juts her chin at my seltzer.
At first, I don’t understand…until I read the label more clearly. It is not
just a flavored seltzer. It’s a hard flavored seltzer. Meaning, it has booze.
“Oh shit,” I say. The world twists on its axis. No wonder I have been so
loosey goosey. I am three drinks in after a decade and a half of sobriety.
But I don’t have long to ponder my fuck-up before Cassandra returns,
her hand red and dripping from spending so much time fishing around the
cooler. She shakes the ice water off, then drops to her knees in front of the
fireplace.
“I need to warm up after that. My hand’s as pink as the guy in Danny’s
story.”
She reaches toward the fire.
Someone has slid the glass door shut in front of it. A crack in the glass
starts to spiderweb across the pane.
“No! Wait!” I shout, but it’s too late.
The differential of heat and cold on either side of the glass creates a
small explosion. The entire door shatters outward, sending hundreds of
shards rocketing at Cassandra. She screams so loud it becomes the only
sound in the room. Her whole arm is embedded with glass.
But that is not the worst of it.
Her face is a collection of knicks and slashes, with over a dozen pieces
of glass dug into her cheeks, jaw, and…
Oh God, her eye.
A shard, maybe an inch wide, has fully embedded into her right eye. I
have no idea how deep it goes, but more than just blood is running down her
face. A foamy yellowish-green fluid seeps from the socket.
“Call an ambulance!” Elaine shouts.
Danny lurches to his feet to grab his phone but trips over himself and
vomits on the rug.
Cassandra’s hand is shaking like a leaf. It slowly creeps toward the
foreign object embedded in her eye. She barely touches it before letting out a
shriek even louder than the first.
Elaine is talking to a dispatcher. Alex has a towel and is trying to figure
out a way to wrap up Cassandra’s arm, but there is too much glass. Nobody
knows what to do.
It’s an excruciating ten minutes of pure panic before flashing red lights
and a siren pull up to the building. We are running around like chickens with
their heads cut off while this woman wails on the floor, smearing blood all
over the tan carpet. A pair of EMTs eventually hurry in, load her onto a
stretcher, and rush her into the ambulance.
When the van drives away, we are left in a stunned silence.
Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I feel like I need to fill the emptiness. “I
tried to stop her when I noticed the glass.”
“Who the fuck puts a glass door over a lit fire?” Danny shouts.
After another awkward silence, Danny pipes up again.
“That wasn’t a rhetorical question. Who did it?”
“It wasn’t me,” Alex says, preemptively to his next statement. “But I had
no idea you couldn’t put glass over a lit fire. I certainly didn’t think it would
go off like that. Seems like a simple mistake.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Elaine puts a hand on Danny’s shoulder.
He jerks away, shrugging her off. “Yes, it fucking does! Who did it?
Who lit the fire?”
I have a sudden urge to defend myself, even though nobody is looking at
me. “I use the fireplace in my unit all the time,” I say. “I was the one who
noticed the door was shut when she reached out. There was a crack in it, and
I thought maybe that could be why it was compromised so badly. I tried to
stop her as soon as I noticed.”
“Holy shit, this is so messed up!” Danny shouts.
I stand and back away to the door, pulling my phone from my pocket.
“I’m sorry. I have to call Eden.” Then I rush out of the room as fast as my
legs will carry me.
In the aftermath of this horror, even with my inebriation, I don’t fail to
remember which steps to start on for every flight of stairs. By the time I reach
my room, Eden is on the line.
“Something happened. Cassandra’s hurt. She’s going to the hospital,” I
say, hurrying over to the oven and fridge, tapping everything to help calm my
nerves. I even turn the key to my fireplace to make sure it is off.
“What?” Eden says. “Slow down. What happened?”
“Someone closed the glass door on the fireplace. It had a crack, and it
exploded. One of the shards…Oh god.” I belch, fighting back burning acid
and bile in my stomach while I am pulled back into the moment. The awful
colors seeping from her popped eyeball are branded into my brain.
“Where are they taking her?” Eden asks.
“I don’t know. They said the name. Give me a second.” I get onto my
computer to look up nearby hospitals, knowing I will recognize the name
when I find it. But before I do, I see my last spontaneous writing session
sitting on the screen. My eyes are immediately drawn to a passage:
Smash the glass, and take the shards
Shove them into Beth’s face and arms
Carve into her flesh and see
The glass is not for your safety
It’s a weapon, crystal sharp
Slit her throat while in the dark
Drive the glass into her heart
Watch her drain out, thats a start
First, the slashed mesh of the window. Now this. I wrote these words two
days ago. It’s too similar to be a coincidence.
I try to think back to when I lit the fire. I know better than to close the
glass door over an open flame, even if it is supposed to be safe.
So I didn’t do this, right?
“Eden, I’m going to have to call you back.”

About the Author

Jon Cohn is a horror novelist and professional board game designer. His works
include 2024 Indie Book Brawl Quarter-Finalist Slashtag, and the much less
popular, but award winning novel The Island Mother. He gets his best ideas
from a tarot reader who lives in Hawaii.

As a designer, Jon is very excited to finally be able to merge horror books
and board games together by bringing Ghostland to life as a board game, coming
to Kickstarter. He’s also designed games like Thanksgiving, co-designed
with Eli Roth, Basket Case and Taboo Horror.

Order autographed books, and get updates for new games and upcoming novels at
www.joncohnauthor.com. Sign up for Jon’s newsletter for free short
stories and games, and follow at @joncohnauthor on Facebook, Instagram and
TikTok .

Jon lives in San Diego with his supernaturally patient wifeDelaney, and their
adorable dog, Miss Cordelia Chase.

He would also love to give you free stuff like stories, audiobooks, and games
by signing up for his mailing list at www.joncohnauthor.com.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Pinterest

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Purchase Link

Amazon

 

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Rising From the Roots Virtual Book Tour

Rising From the Roots banner
Rising From the Roots cover

 

Poetry. LGBTQ. Personal Growth.

Date Published: June 24, 2025

 

Rising From the Roots is a collection of poems that invites readers into
a world of deep introspection and emotional exploration. Through heartfelt
lines, and a transparent flow, Farrell examines the labyrinth of identity,
love, and personal evolution. Each poem resonates with raw honesty,
encouraging readers to reflect on their own experiences and emotions.

 

Rising From the Roots tablet

EXCERPT

Being Alive

I didn’t get lost in the shadows.

As a wanderer, I’ve always found it.

Unafraid of the darkness, the unseen.

Strolled in the unforeseen

knowing

the light would pass by with a wave and a new route. You know…

Life.

Exploring light, looking into darkness. Finding joy in both.

Knowing

there is peace in both.

You know…

Being alive, my dear.

Moving Lips, Idle Legs

Frozen in time.

Suspended in your misery.

Fussing to yourself at the starting line

while I’ve been running

this marathon with my chest out,

running this marathon,

hopping over hurdles,

running this marathon,

sludging through the mud.

Running this marathon without a raincoat, running this marathon without sneakers. Just geared up with ambition.

Honey, you could never.

You would never.

You’re too busy talking shit at the starting line STILL.

About the Author

Jasmine Farrell
Jasmine Farrell is a New York-based poet and author known for her candid
and emotionally resonant work that explores themes of identity, love, and
personal growth. With eight poetry projects to her name, including Rising From
the Roots, Orange September, and Long Live Phoenixes, it’s safe to say,
poetry is Farrell’s first love. Her writing often reflects her journey
of self-discovery and resilience, addressing topics such as grief,
empowerment, and the complexities of relationships. In addition to her poetry,
Farrell made her debut as a novelist with Sloppy (2022), a work that delves
into LGBTQ+ experiences and personal transformation.

Farrell’s work resonates with readers seeking authenticity and connection,
offering a blend of vulnerability and strength that encourages introspection
and healing. Through her writing, she continues to inspire and uplift
individuals navigating their own paths toward self-acceptance and
understanding.

 
Contact Links

Website

YouTube: @JasmineFarrell

Instagram: @authorjfarrell

Twitter: @jfarrellwrites

TikTok: @jasminefarrellpoetry

Purchase Links

Applebooks

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

Smashwords

Author Website

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