Category Archives: BOOKS

Hell & Back Tour

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Outbreak Task Force, Book #5

Romantic Suspense

Date Published: 9/21/2020

Publisher: Entangled Publishing

 

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Racing to lock down the CDC’s deadly virus samples from terrorists,
ex-Special Forces medic Henry Lee partners with Ruby Toth on the Outbreak
Task Force. But the terrorists always seem one step ahead. As they work side
by side, Henry’s taken with how Ruby accepts and respects him, instead of
pitying him for all he lost overseas, including his leg. Ruby’s hiding
something, though, and Henry fears she’s been leaking sensitive information.
Terrorists have kidnapped her brother, and now microbiologist Ruby Toth
faces a horrible choice. If she doesn’t give them a vial of Small Pox as
ransom, her brother will die. She knows her prickly—yet very
hot—boss, Henry, could provide the help she needs. But she joined the
CDC to root out insiders plotting to unleash a bio-engineered pandemic, and
she can’t trust anyone. Not even Henry.

 

Hell & Back tablet
 

 EXCERPT

About time he called her. Where the hell was he? 

 

She answered the phone with, “Where have you been?” 

 

“Your brother is with us, Miss Toth,” a distorted voice said. “If you don’t do everything we tell you to do, you’ll never see him in one piece again.” 

 

A cold fist punched her in the stomach, and she was standing without recalling how she got there. The cold pushed its way through her body, weakening her knees until she collapsed back onto the chair she’d been sitting on. 

 

“Who is this?” 

 

“You know who we are.” The distortion made it impossible to discern if the voice was male or female. “Your brother is healthy. For the moment.” 

 

Assholes. Anger freed her diaphragm from its icy cage. She harnessed the energy and rode it, breaking it down into something useful. Patience. 

 

Watch, wait, listen, then act. She’d learned the hard way not to let her emotions hijack her mouth. To get along with difficult people, you had to figure out what they wanted and what they didn’t before you spoke. 

 

What kind of response would a bunch of terrorists who’d kidnapped her brother want from her? Defeat, not defiance. Compliance, not confidence. She needed to make them believe she’d do whatever they told her to do. 

 

“Please don’t hurt him. Wh-what do you want?” There was enough adrenaline surging through her system it wasn’t hard to stutter and breathe a little too hard. To sound like she was on the edge of panic. 

 

“A live sample of smallpox.” Despite the distortion, the voice sounded self-satisfied. Arrogant. Superior. For a moment, she couldn’t quite believe what she heard. 

 

“You can’t be serious.” 

 

“Get it or your brother dies.” 

 

“How do I know he’s not already dead?” Her voice broke on the last word.

 

About the Author

Full-time author and workshop facilitator, Julie Rowe’s first career
as a medical lab technologist in Canada took her to the North West
Territories and Fort McMurray, Alberta, where she still resides. Her most
recent titles include Search & Destroy book #4 of the Outbreak Taskforce
series and Trapped with the Secret Agent book #1 of the Trapped with Him
series. Julie’s articles have appeared in magazines, such as Romantic
Times Magazine, Today’s Parent magazine and Canadian Living. Julie
facilitates communication workshops at Keyano College in Fort McMurray, and
has presented writing workshops at conferences in the United States and
Canada. You can find her at www.julieroweauthor.com , on Twitter
@julieroweauthor or at her Facebook page: www.facebook.com/JulieRoweAuthor.

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The Haunting on Palm Court Tour

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Book #1 in the Isle of Palms Suspense series

Romantic Suspense

Date Published: Sept. 1, 2020

 

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After Blake Nelson catches her abusive fiancé, Parker, with another
woman, she seeks serenity at her late grandmother’s beach cottage. He
follows Blake to the island and attempts to kill her, but instead, he dies
in an accident while fleeing the police. His malevolent spirit returns to
the cottage to finish what he started. The haunting intensifies when Blake
reconnects with her first love, Clint. Will Blake discover how to banish
Parker before it’s too late?

 

The Haunting on Palm Court tablet

 

Excerpt from Chapter 14-The Haunting on Palm Court

Blake walked down the long hallway and through two sets of doors to the ladies’ room. While washing her hands, a cool breeze grazed her shoulders. The hair on her arms stood up on end, and her head began pulsating.  

She continued washing her hands, but her curiosity got the best of her. From the mirror, Parker’s green eyes bore holes into her. 

“You shouldn’t be here! Go away!” Blake cried. She’d never been so glad for a restroom to be far removed from a restaurant dining room. Anyone who couldn’t see spirits would think she was crazy. They might not be wrong. 

“Happy Birthday, beautiful. What—you thought I’d forgotten? No way. I have to celebrate with you. Did I see your family out there? I sure have missed them. Wouldn’t it be nice if I came out to say hello?”

“No! Leave them alone. It’s bad enough that you’re tormenting me. They don’t deserve to be tortured. Seriously, please go somewhere, anywhere else.” 

He stood behind her and put his arm around her waist. “I’ve missed you, Blake.” His icy breath frosted the mirror, and her chest compressed. She inhaled and pried his icy fingers off her abdomen, and he laughed. How would she be able to get rid of him now that he was strong enough to materialize and touch her?

“Why do you insist on wrecking my life every chance you get?” Blake asked. 

“Isn’t it obvious? You ruined mine. I’m dead.” He chuckled. 

“That’s your own doing. Now go to hell where you belong!” Blake opened the bathroom door and slammed it behind her.

Parker just had to show up today of all days. Blake clutched her purse to her chest, took a deep breath and gathered her wits. She wanted to make a run for it and try to hide from him, but she couldn’t. 

As she returned to her family’s table, they were talking, oblivious to the nerve-wracking scene that had just taken place in the bathroom.

Smile and breathe. You don’t want to worry them.

 

Full Chapter – Chapter 19

 

Excited to host their first wedding, Nancy and Blake set out a brunch buffet so the bridal party could eat as they had time. 

The vendors began arriving and setting up. A couple of hours later, they had transformed the garden into an enchanting wedding setting. 

“It’s breathtaking!” Blake said, stepping into the garden as she made her way to the room where the bride and bridesmaids were getting ready. 

When the photographer arrived, Blake took her to Emily.

“You are such a beautiful bride!” Blake said, picturing herself in a white dress and her grandmother’s pearls. 

Emily smiled. “You will be, too.” 

The wedding was a blur for Blake. As the ceremony played out in front of her eyes, she imagined marrying Clint. The couple had faced hardships, but they always found their way back to each other. That had to mean something. 

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant announced, bringing Blake back to reality. She scurried to make sure the caterers had set up the reception buffet in the garden. 

After dinner, the bride and groom cut an elegant two-tier cake, delicately feeding each other a bite. 

Not interested in a lot of dancing, Emily had opted for an alternative to the traditional reception—a private moonlit tour of the Charleston Harbor aboard a yacht.

She invited Clint, Blake and Nancy to join the wedding party for the tour. Nancy stayed home but told them to have fun. When they arrived downtown, Blake gasped at the sight of the church steeples spanning the skyline of the Holy City, named for its sheer number of churches.

“It’s beautiful.” Emily grinned. 

“Not as beautiful as my girl.” Clint stood behind Blake, wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed her cheek. 

Emily gave them a knowing smile.

As they stepped onto the boat, the steward handed each of them a glass of champagne. Everyone took a seat on the deck, except for Cooper, who climbed onto a railing and began making a toast. 

“Thanks to all of our friends and family who made our wedding day so incredible. Tomorrow, we leave for our honeymoon, and everyone knows what that means…”

“Okay, bud, come on down.” Clint offered his hand and helped him down just as the yacht motor began purring, keeping him from falling on his face and possibly overboard. 

Emily’s cheeks flushed, and she took Cooper to the seat next to hers. 

Clint took over the toast. “To Cooper and Emily! Thanks for trusting us with the most important day of your lives. Here’s to many happy years together.” Clint raised his glass, and everyone else followed. 

Emily mouthed the words “thank you” and took a deep breath. 

Underneath the blanket of stars, the tour guide delivered a dramatic monologue about Charleston’s cobblestone streets, unique architecture and storied past.

“The beautiful oleander flower is quite poisonous and had no scent or taste. It was undetectable by medical examiners in the 1800s. The running joke was to be careful who you accepted a cup of tea from back in those days, or it might be your last.” 

Clint seemed to eat up this account of his hometown’s history. Blake had to stifle her laughter when his amused grin faded, and he placed his finger and thumb on his chin. 

After the tour guide finished his spiel, Cooper’s parents asked everyone to join them inside for a surprise. Blake told Clint to go ahead. She needed to use the ladies’ room on the other side of the deck. 

Leaving the restroom, she began making her way across the series of wooden deck planks. The gaps between the boards started blurring. She pressed her head between her hands to right her vision and alleviate a splitting headache.

With the swell of the waves, the boat shifted onto its side. And Blake fell over the railing. Her foot became trapped underneath a trim board—the only thing standing between her and the gray, choppy water. Taking deep breaths, she told herself a powerful gust of wind had sent her tumbling, not Parker’s vengeful spirit. Regardless, the more she struggled, the looser the grip of the board. 

She began screaming for help; her body dangled mere feet from the swelling waves. 

The door to the cabin opened. “Don’t move, we’re coming to help you!” Clint yelled as he and Cooper ran to her, freeing her foot and pulling her back over the railing. 

Blake sat on a bench, shaking and her chest heaving.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Cooper asked. Blake stared at her feet in silence. 

Clint patted Cooper on the back. “Thanks so much for helping, man. I’ve got it from here.” Cooper frowned but nodded and walked away. 

Wincing, Clint asked Blake what had happened. Tears began streaming down her cheeks before she could open her mouth to speak. He held her close and consoled her.

When the boat finally returned to the marina, Blake silently vowed not to travel by sea for a while. Her body trembled. What if Clint had not been there? Would Parker have succeeded in drowning her? 

Clint drove them back to the cottage. She climbed out of the Jeep, tempted to kiss the ground. Parker had been a creep in life, but his spirit could show up in the most random places and do things Parker could not have done in his human form. 

Walking into the kitchen, Blake put on a pot of decaf coffee. The crisp night air and Parker’s icy grip had chilled her to the bone. She poured a cup for each of them and grabbed a handful of fresh-baked chocolate and toffee cookies. 

Clint leaned over the table to kiss her on the forehead. “Are you okay? Really?” 

“Yeah—It was just a shock. I guess I’d better get used to it until we figure out how to get rid of Parker.” 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I love you,” Clint said. “If I didn’t tell you already, you look gorgeous tonight.” 

“I’m glad I don’t look the way I feel…exhausted,” Blake said with a half-smile.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve seen on the island, in South Carolina, and throughout the world.” He always said the right thing, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tease him.

“So now you’re a world traveler.” 

“I could be anything as long as I’m with you.” Damn! He led her to the bedroom, where he kissed each of her fingers delicately. The couple became intertwined, connecting on a spiritual level. Their love was more than a fleeting romance. They were more complete, more themselves together. Who could ask for more?

About the Author

  

Stephanie Edwards has been writing professionally since she landed her
first newspaper column at the age of 13. Her love for the Lowcountry, the
Atlantic Ocean and a good ghost story inspired her to write her first book.
She lives in Tennessee with her husband, Ron, and their adorable dog,
Shadow.

 

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(Companion Coloring Book, sold separately) Pearls of Wisdom: An Adult
Coloring Book 

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Materials: Soulstealer Blitz

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Urban Fantasy, Supernatural Thriller

 

Published: May 2020

Publisher: THEORYbee

 

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  He was looking forward to college…

…but then the worst possible thing happened.

Could Nythan survive the demon inside of him?

College in Florida was supposed to be about the beaches, the girls, and sometimes even a class or two. But the demon inside had one demand. Help it fulfill its quest so the demon might escape. It’s the only way for Nythan to get his life back.

There are just two problems…

Nythan doesn’t want to hurt innocent people…

And there’s a secret order out to stop him.

They’re called the Ordo Solis, an ancient group whose only mission is to hunt down and destroy the Soulstealer. They’ve been chasing it for thousands of years. It’s in Nythan, and they have no choice.

The host must die.

Caught in the middle, Nythan must come up with a plan.

Will he survive?

 

You’ll love this coming-of-age urban fantasy because it’s an action-packed adventure that will keep you turning the pages.

 

Praise for Soulstealer:

 

    “A measured but engaging start to what’s sure tobe an epic supernatural saga” – KirkusReviews

    “Soulstealer is a fast-paced thriller that keptme turning the pages, highly recommended!” – Readers’Favorite, 4 out of 5 stars!

    “A vivid story that mature teens will findcompelling…highly recommended for prior fans of urbanfantasy” – MidwestBook Review

    “Fun and fast-paced, SOULSTEALER is a great mixof urban fantasy, fantastical mythos and real world framing” – IndieReader, 3.8out of 5 stars!

    “…a compelling urban fantasy novelthat teems with moral quandaries” – ForewordReviews

    Finalist for 2020International Book Awards, Fiction: Visionary Category

    “Boulware fleshes out even the most minor ofcharacters, employing dialogue that’s natural and believable” -BlueInkReview

    Nominated for Best Audiobook Narrator forMLC Audiobook Awards,Summer 2020

    Nominated for Production with Outstanding Sound-Voice-Narration forMLC AudiobookAwards, Honorable Mention Award

    “…filled with embellished metaphors, engagingplot, and a smooth style” – BookLife(Publisher’s Weekly)

    “…looking forward to the Soulstealer’s next chapter”- San Francisco Book Review, 4 out of 5 stars!

    “Every element in its right place. A greatcover design” – The BookDesigner

    “I implore you lovely readers to get lost in his work” – Red HeadedBook Lover, 5 out of 5 stars!

 

 

Materials: Soulstealer tablet, phone, paperback

 

About The Author 

Shane Boulware is an unconventional idealist from Orlando, Florida. Naturally, he commissioned as a Contracting Officer in the United States Air Force in 2012, where he promptly got tased, was hit with pepper spray, participated in a mock riot, jumped out of an airplane, and lived in a combat zone. These experiences tempered his creative instinct and led him to publish two music albums, found an innovation company, break a Guinness World Record, and learn over sixteen dance styles.

Having grown up a huge fan of Dune, Star Wars, Stargate SG-1, Warhammer 40K, Harry Potter, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and The Lord of the Rings, Shane always wanted to create and share a world of his own. His imagination set him on a path to write the supernatural thriller, Soulstealer, and its sequel, Ordo Solis.

When he’s not negotiating contracts or salsa dancing the night away, you can find Shane taking his creative passion out on an unsuspecting keyboard. If you want to know when his next book will be available, visit his website at ShaneBoulware.com, where you can sign up to receive release updates and join a community of savants, swashbucklers, and nerds.

 

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The Mother Tree Tour

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Sequel to Hungry Mother Creek

Women’s Fiction

 Date Published: May 26, 2018

 

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The water that surrounds Oriental, N.C. a5racts people who need to heal. In
Heather Cobham’s debut novel, Hungry Mother Creek, Maya Sommers landed
in Oriental reeling from the trauma of Hurricane Katrina and the death of
her husband. Now, Sloan Bostwick, a successful realtor from Raleigh, returns
there in hopes of regaining the peace she experienced during the summers
with her grandparents. Sloan purchases the oldest home in the county with
plans to create a retreat center. Unbeknownst to Sloan, part of her property
contains the Mother Tree, a live oak, where for over a hundred years, women
have gathered. It was here, with the help of her women’s circle, that
Maya recovered from her husband’s death.

Maya and Sloan’s lives intersect over the fate of the Mother Tree
when the women’s circle rallies the community to protect the sacred
tree. Travis, the handsome kayak guide Maya had a brief affair with, joins
their efforts and Maya’s feelings for him are reignited. Will Travis
fill the sense of yearning she’s had the past few months? What’s
standing between her and true happiness? Meanwhile Sloan must admit that
wounds from her childhood are still festering, waking her every night and
distracting her from the retreat center.

Though Maya and Sloan clash over the fate of the Mother Tree, they have
more in common than they realize. Join them on the banks of the Neuse River
as the wisdom of women, past and present, helps Maya and Sloan transform
their suffering into resilience.

 

The Mother Tree tablet & paperback

EXCERPT

At 3:20 Sloan woke by instinct. Except for the rise and fall of her chest and the rapid motion of her eyes as they scanned the dark room, she lay perfectly still. Had someone come in? She lifted her head a few inches off the pillow and listened. The familiar sounds of the window air conditioner and Peter’s heavy breathing reoriented her. She’d had another nightmare. She put her head back on the pillow and took some deep breaths. 

     Would she ever stop waking before dawn? Sloan had hoped her move to the quiet sailing town of Oriental, North Carolina and a new house on the Neuse river would change this pattern but it hadn’t. She closed her eyes but sleep wouldn’t come. Worries clambered over each other to get her attention and for the past ten years Deidre always landed at the top of the pile. If she’d been a better Mother, would Deidre have become an addict? Like a gymnast performing a well practiced routine, Sloan ran through all the reasons she’d contributed to Deidre’s drug addiction. At least now she had something positive she could focus on; Deidre was alive, had finally agreed to get help, and Sloan was able to pay for it. This immediately spiked her next worry. Where would she get the money to renovate her new home into a retreat center? She’d had it set aside but now it was paying for Deidre’s rehab. 

     The whole purpose of moving to Oriental was to create a retreat center for businesses and other groups, and without it she’d have no income. Peter’d reduced his teaching load at North Carolina State in Raleigh to spend more time painting here, and was counting on her to pay half the mortgage. Had she made a mistake giving up her real estate business in Raleigh? Would she lose everything she’d worked so hard for? Could a bi-racial woman even create a successful business in rural North Carolina?

     Sloan turned on her side, away from Peter and tried to relax. If you looked at the numbers, it hadn’t made sense to buy Magnolia Bend and come to Oriental but she’d used numbers all her life to make decisions. This strategy had given her financial security in exchange for the time she could have spent with Deidre and her older brother, Anthony. Now in her 50th year and with encouragement from Peter, she’d made a decision based on feelings, not numbers; the peace she felt being by the water here in Pamlico County and the connection she felt to this area, where she’d spent childhood summers with her mother’s family.

……. Sloan slid her long legs out from under the sheets and walked to the closet for her silk robe. She moved carefully across the bedroom and out to the hall. She and Peter had moved into Magnolia Bend at the beginning of May and in the 3 weeks since then, she’d stubbed her toes and bumped her head too many times to count. The house was built in the early 1800’s when people were smaller and it would take a while for her almost six foot frame to adapt.

     Sloan rested her right hand on the banister and gracefully moved down the staircase with her white bathrobe trailing behind her. The years of ballet lessons had infused her body with grace and balance. These qualities combined with her stature gave her a strong physical presence. Sloan was aware of this and used it to her advantage in her Wake County real estate practice.   

     Being a biracial woman automatically put Sloan in the minority in a roomful of corporate realtors and businessmen, but her confidence and ability to look the white men in the eye helped equalize the power differential somewhat. Sloan didn’t miss that part of her real estate job. The negotiations were exhausting, being twice as prepared as anyone else, monitoring eye contact and body language for prejudice and censoring her speech to avoid the slang she’d picked up as a teenager from her cousins. 

     In the kitchen, Sloan removed a bottle of water from the fridge to take outside. She paused with her hand on the french doors that led to the patio. She saw herself on the other side, peeking into the kitchen through this exact door 40 years ago. Magnolia Bend was just down the road from GG’s home and several times each summer she would explore the abandoned property, looking into every window she could reach. The home was in disrepair then, with plaster coating the floors like snow, and vines growing in through the cracks. 

     GG had told her there were chains and shackles in the basement left from when this had been a plantation, so she’d crawled along the foundation until finally she found a small window. On her hands and knees she looked in and saw four sets of shackles bolted to the wall. She immediately wished she could un-see it. It was more then her 10-year-old mind could comprehend and she threw up in the boxwoods, overcome with anger at what half of her ancestors had endured and shame at what the other half had inflicted. That was the last time she’d been here until she came with the realtor back in March. 

     Sloan realized she was shaking and sat down at the kitchen table. She hadn’t shared this memory with Peter or her realtor, but knew it had influenced her decision to buy Magnolia Bend. She couldn’t erase the past but now had the opportunity to write a new chapter in the history of Magnolia Bend. It would become a sanctuary, a place to restore and create rather than to suffer.

 

About the Author

Heather W. Cobham is the author of the duology, Hungry Mother Creek and The
Mother Tree. She is a licensed clinical social worker and has her own
counseling practice in New Bern North Carolina. The strength and resilience
of her clients, provides inspiration for the protagonists in her books.
Heather lives by the water in Oriental, N.C. and maintains her own health
and balance by spending time with her husband, running, paddle boarding,
yoga and reading.

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The Boatwright Blitz

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Book 3 of the Verduran Pentology

YA Fantasy

Date Published: October 9, 2020

Publisher: INtense Publications LLC

 

In The Boatwright we learn about Steven’s father, Dalat, who becomes
known as Sabal on earth. It chronicles the events leading up to the earlier
adventures. This one starts in Verdura but goes back to 19th century
America. Many unanswered questions from the first two books find a solution
in The Boatwright.

 

 

The Boatwright paperback

 

EXCERPT

From Chapter 8: The Green Corn Dance

 

…one dance, done with feathers, particularly interested him. The
dance boss watched him, and as the dance concluded, he extended the dance
stick to Sabal, meaning that he was to lead the next dance. Sabal hesitated.
But when the man started to take the feathers back to the tchoc-ko thloc-
ko, he gestured for him to bring them back.

He set the stick down, took some feathers, and stepped into the
leader’s spot. After he had placed feathers between his fingers, he
held his arms down, straight and tight against his body so that the feathers
splayed down toward the ground. He closed his eyes for a moment and gave
himself over to thought. That bird, he mused. He remains in my mind, though
I do not know whether to love him or to hate him. But then he opened his
eyes and nodded.

He knew the story of Ispri. He had heard it in his creche. He began to
dance the story. He raised his arms very slowly from his sides until they
formed a straight line across his shoulders from hand to hand, feather to
feather. Everyone in the dance circle turned slightly and stretched out
their arms similarly.

He fluttered the feathers. They fluttered their fingers. Then he moved his
hands – slowly, with deliberate grace – up and down, and up and
down. He arched his back and began turning his arms so that the hands made
small circles in the air. The others mimicked his circles.

Then he swayed his upper torso, gently, undulating. The others followed. He
continued to do so as he stepped from one foot to the other, side to side.
The entire line swayed and stepped from foot to foot. Then he waved his arms
more swiftly. And when they were moving very swiftly he jumped.

He broke the circle, skipping and jumping. From place to place to place he
skipped and jumped. The circle became a line, following him, a line turning
and crossing and undulating. And then he tumbled to his knees. All the
others fell, likewise, to their knees. His arms still made circles, but
smaller, more slowly. Then he settled to his haunches, arms slowing still
more. All did the same. And now, he gently rolled and waved his arms,
gently, gently, feathers extending from the fingers, until he pulled them in
upon himself, cradling himself.

He let his face fall forward and touch the ground, rise again slightly, and
then fall again, unhindered, into the dirt. All the other men set their
faces in the dirt. Sabal allowed his fingers, and the feathers, to ripple
slightly, and then he was still. No one moved. No one made a sound.

The fire crackled softly. A few night birds sounded in the distance. Sweat
trickled down Sabal’s down-turned face and dripped to the ground with
a tiny hiss. An animal called in the distance. Crickets sang. Sabal’s
forehead remained in the dirt. The dancers remained still.

But then Sabal moved a feather. He moved it and was still, but it had made
its scratching sound on the earth.

And then he moved another. He rippled his fingers gently, first on one
hand, and then on the other. Stop. He did it again. The others began
cautiously to move their fingers, to turn their faces sideways to
watch.

Then Sabal pulled an arm out from underneath himself, stretched it once and
put it back. Then the other. Then both at once. Now he raised his head a
bit, arching his back and shoulders, then straightening them, bending back
down. And then he was up again, undulating. Slowly, slowly, arms gaining
speed, circles becoming larger, he rose to his feet.

Then suddenly, instantly, wildly, he waved and turned and shouted and
jumped… running to the edge of the dance circle… running along
the edge, jumping, waving his arms. The dance followed. They all jumped and
leapt. He led a wild, shouting procession all around toward and away from
the edge of the dance circle, waving and weaving, exulting and leaping. On
and on.

But finally—slowing, quietening, gradually—he led them back to
the center of the circle. He led them back to the center and to
stillness.

After a time, Sabal took the feathers from his fingers, picked up the dance
stick, raised his head briefly, nodded at the dance boss. Then he bowed his
head again.

The dance boss approached Sabal and gently took the stick from the ground
in front of him. At that moment everyone broke out in cheers. But Sabal
wept.

Keeta led Sabal from the dance circle. As he neared its boundary, did the
single rotation and bow required, and stepped out, Chono approached. She
took his hand in both of hers, gathering it to herself as one does a
precious thing. He said nothing because he had no words. He had shared
himself in the dance. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to
share.

 

About the Author

Growing up in Boston, and living in four countries in Europe over 25 years,
gave Dr. Saunders a desire to know and share the history that has shaped the
world we live in today. He is excited to share how similar the founding
concerns and events of our country are to what we are experiencing
today.

 

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