By now you probably know that my book Finding the Tree has been published--nearly a year in the making this book dives deep into women's rights. Fantasy is a good way to manage themes of this nature. If you haven't picked up a copy as yet, it is only .99 but that price will soon go up! It is irksome that a book that has taken so long and has been edited many times is worth so little to so many people! I hope you can take this in stride, because as a writer, it is a difficult road. But then again I'm not in it for the money--if I were, I'd be LONG GONE!
Here is an excerpt to whet your appetite:
Waking to the smell of smoke propelled me to my feet, my eyes watering as soon as I opened them. Outside my window flames licked at the dry wood of downed trees, the smell of char and the sound of limbs crashing sending me into a panic. The whispering was now a roar in my ears, the pain of the trees twisting inside my belly. I grabbed my books, the pendant and the comb and threw them into my rucksack, grabbing the water bottle and the rest of the cheese and bread in the larder and adding them to the mix. It was obvious that I didn’t have time to think things over too carefully—the fire was moving toward my little shelter with alarming speed.
Tears welled. The forest had always been my sanctuary, but now it was on fire and there was nothing I could do. Sneaking into the library must have angered God, and now I was being punished for my transgressions. And yet I’d been poised to go, I reminded myself. Maybe this god was on my side after all. But the thought of the trees burning up and the animals running for their lives…and the fox—he was like a pet now, sleeping inside on the colder winter nights and eating from the bowl I left out by the door. I scanned for him but didn’t see him.
Away from the inferno I witnessed a world I no longer recognized. Gone were the brick and wood houses, and the tiny shops; the narrow paths that led between them were covered in rocks and mud. The community square where people sold their goods, the pens that housed the pigs, the pastures filled with horses and goats had literally been obliterated. The windmills lay twisted across the ground. The land was scoured, with large piles of steaming rubble scattered here and there. The only building still standing was the library.
The wooden doors were open and ablaze. I could see the glow of flames within. The books were burning. When I closed my eyes, I could smell the dust and hear the leather sizzling, the whoosh of ancient paper curling into ash and the crack as the glass of the locked cabinet broke apart. I ran for the door and burst inside, holding a scarf over my mouth and nose as I grabbed the charred books that had fallen from the cabinet. The shelves were on fire, flames licking upward as books fell, disintegrating as they landed. In the side room the papers and maps were in flames and the table and chairs were nearly burned away. Perhaps a candle had been left burning after one of the meetings? I scanned quickly for the journal, but it wasn’t there.
I ran for the door, barely making it outside before the shelves exploded, the glass bursting outward and showering the ground with burning embers and ash. There was not another human being in sight. I ran from the village as though the gods were chasing me, shockwaves sending the adrenaline I needed. This wasn’t about me—it was about everyone and everything. My precious books were no more and the only home I’d known was gone.
I must warn sensitive readers--this book is not for the faint of heart--if you've read The Handmaid's Tale, this one is similar in tone. If you are interested, just click on the title in orange to go to Amazon.
Thanks for reading!