Michael Puttonen's Blog

BONES OF THE GODS now available.

My latest novel, Bones of the Gods, is now available for purchase. This is the fourth book in my Sanyel series about a kick-ass hunter/warrior/shaman of unusual skills, intelligence, and courage who always finds herself on the path to a new and dangerous adventure. Here is the blurb:

Sanyel, shaman of the Sakita and alleged hand of the sun god, has agreed to investigate the bizarre circumstances surrounding the vanishing of a past acquaintance’s wife and daughter. A recurring cryptic image, elusive suspects, strange devices, and an ever-expanding mystery have Sanyel and her adventurous companions often perplexed as they head deeper into danger to uncover a secret hidden for thousands of years.

The price for this ebook is $2.99 USD.

Here are links to the book’s purchase page at various online book retailers:

Amazon— https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07...
Barnes & Noble— https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/book...
Kobo— https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bone...
Scribd— https://www.scribd.com/book/398423618...
Apple Books— https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/bone...
Smashwords— https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...

Cover: Bones of the Gods

Here’s a link to my website page showing the cover of my upcoming novel, BONES OF THE GODS, the fourth book of my Sanyel series. https://www.michlputtonen.com/single-...

Bones of the Gods (final update, excerpt)

I have been updating interested readers on my progress in writing Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel of my ongoing Sanyel series. Due to numerous unforeseen circumstances, my writing has encountered long delays, but I am still chugging away at it. As the process nears its end, I figured a final update and excerpt were in order. As a refresher, the Sanyel series books are action/adventure/fantasy that feature an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. Here’s a sample from Chapter Thirty-One, preceded by a setup to the scene. Expect further editing before the final version. (Note to readers: It looks likes January of 2019 will be the release month, about six months later than I had hoped to publish this book. Posted 12/21/18.)

Tribal shaman Sanyel, her mate Javen, her swordmaster friend Izzy, and government agent Jankan, along with others, are helping Kersla, a past acquaintance of Sanyel, search for his kidnapped wife and daughter. They have learned that a people called the Chalray are responsible for the abductions and that these Chalray have conducted numerous other kidnappings for thousands of years over a widespread area. Sophisticated devices invented by a long-vanished, advanced civilization allow the kidnappers to control those they abduct. These include a neck collar that blanks the minds of the abducted. When wearing the collar, the victim no longer has any personal thoughts, feelings, or memories but can respond to orders given by those who possess a control device which also serves as a medical device. For as long as the collar is attached, the wearer is little more than a machine for others to operate. Sanyel has allowed a Chalray named Balto (a man she has recently humiliated) and his men to capture her, for she knows a collar won’t work on her due to the counteracting force of an unusual ring she carries. She has been pretending to be under the collar’s influence so that Balto will lead her to where the Chalray keep those they kidnap. Two of her companions, the government agent Jankan, and Kersla (the man whose wife and daughter they seek) are with her, but they have no immunity to the collars and thus are under Balto’s control. Sanyel is surprised that Balto is taking them to a hidden city that she and her fellow searchers did not know existed. Sanyel hopes that Javen and Izzy can somehow trail her to this previously unknown place.

sheek—glass
sental—window
Ganna—mentally challenged member of Balto’s crew
Sonda—king of the Chalray
Dalar and Calak—soldiers, allies of Sanyel who, along with several of their fellow soldiers, had been held captive by the Chalray


The distance to the city was not as far as I had judged after leaving the tunnel. Within ten minutes, we had arrived at its outskirts. A main street paved with irregular stones cut a wide path through its center, and it seemed to have no end. Lighted torches lined the street, revealing to me that the Chalray did not have advanced artificial lighting, suggesting that they were not as sophisticated as their use of complex machines might indicate.

Few people walked the street in the darkness, so our arrival generated little interest. Buildings no higher than two or three levels bounded the street. These private dwellings and shops, all made of stone and wood, pressed against one another the length of the thoroughfare, many dark, with only a few showing actively burning lights through the sheek of their curtained sentals. We approached a larger stone structure on the right side of the street. No lights shone from within. Our escorts halted us with a nudge from a medical device and a simple command to stop.

“We’ll house them here until morning,” said Balto. “After Sonda interviews them, I’m to bring them to the ceremony. You can hurry on home, Ganna. We can take things from here.”

Ganna nodded and took off running down the moonlit street. Balto and the others then directed us inside the stone building, which appeared a prison of some sort but which seemed currently empty of inhabitants or guards. Our escorts lit a torch and placed it in a holder along an otherwise bare hallway. They found a cell to their liking and moved the three of us inside. The interior had no sentals and no lighting. The only illumination came from the torchlight through the open door. With my view inhibited by a need to keep my head stationary, I discerned from the weak light that we occupied a small, seemingly empty room with a bare stone floor. The men left and closed the door, which also had no sental, so I stood in darkness listening as the door latched behind me. My keen ears sought the presence of other cell inhabitants, but I heard nothing besides the breathing of my two companions.

When the footsteps of the departing Chalray had diminished and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I made out the figures of Jankan and Kersla. I was about to free them from their collars when a noise at the door arrested my intent. Someone was out there, lifting the latch. I hurried back in place behind Jankan, assuming the approximate position I had occupied before the Chalray departed.

My back was to the door as I heard it groan open. Footsteps of softly creaking leather sounded on the stone floor, a shadow fell across the far wall, and then I sensed someone standing near me.

“No one makes a fool of Balto,” Balto spoke in a low, menacing voice that seemed spoken almost directly into my ear. “I am in control now, and you will all regret your laughter and disdain. I will especially enjoy this night with you, pretty girl.”

I felt his hands caress my hair, and despite my revulsion, I forced myself to remain motionless while listening to make sure no other Chalray accompanied him. Hearing nothing, I prepared to knock the pervert on his ass. That didn’t happen. An almost imperceptible footfall sounded from the doorway, another looming shadow filled the room, and then I heard a sickening clunk from the direction of Balto’s threatening words. A body toppled past me and dropped to the floor.

“No one even has to try making a fool of you, fool,” said a familiar voice. “You do a fine job making one of yourself.”

Izzy! I wheeled to her, astounded she was here, and then I made out Javen behind her. Before I could speak, two other familiar faces crowded the doorway. Dalar and Calak! Behind them were Dalar’s five fellow Creet soldiers.

“Are you all right?” asked a concerned Javen.

“Uh . . . Yes, I’m fine,” I answered, “though a bit shocked. How did you get here? How did you free Dalar and his men?”

“It required a great deal of intelligence, skill, and cunning,” said Javen. "It so happens that Izzy and I have all those qualities in abundance."

“It helped that we got lucky, too,” added Izzy.

“Yes, that did help,” Javen agreed with a laugh.

“Is he dead?” asked Dalar, indicating Balto.

“Nah,” replied Izzy. “I hit him in a good spot. I thought of kicking him in a much more sensitive area, but I figured he had nothing down there to kick.”

“I think he will be thankful for just a sore head,” said Dalar, laughing.


Well, that’s it. This will be the final excerpt until publication. I hope you enjoyed it and the seven other book excerpts in this blog. As always, I try to cajole readers into downloading the first book of the Sanyel series, which is FREE in ebook form. You can find it at just about any online retail bookstore, but for those of you not interested in overly strenuous searching, here’s a link to the one at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael...

Click on any of the book covers below to find out more about each book.

Bones of the Gods (update 7, excerpt)

I see that I am way overdue in presenting another update and excerpt from Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel of my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. My writing progress has continued at a slower pace than I had hoped since my last update, but I am, nevertheless, still moving forward. Here’s a sample from Chapter Twenty-Seven, preceded by a setup to the scene. As usual, the writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel, her mate Javen, friend Izzy, and government agent Jankan are helping Kersla, a past acquaintance of Sanyel’s, search for his kidnapped wife and daughter. They have discovered a mine worked by slaves, all of whom wear neck collars that have left them unaware of their surroundings. They no longer have any personal thoughts, feelings, or memories but can respond to orders given by overseers who possess a control device. For as long as the collar is attached, the wearer is little more than a machine for others to operate. When removed, by use of a special key, all brain functions return to normal except the wearer can recall nothing of what happened while under the collar’s control. Sanyel and her friends have overcome the slaves’ overseers, know how to use the control device and key, and are about to release one of the mine slaves from his collar, a man who could have been under its control for any length of time, from days to years.

We approached a muscular man of average height, who we judged to be in his mid-thirties. He had light hair that was close-cropped (all the workers had similar cuts), and he repeatedly stabbed a metal pick at a rock pile near a cavern wall. Sweat rolled down his dirty, expressionless face, leaving pale streaks upon the dark grime, residue from fine dirt particles stirred up by the incessant mining activity. We chose this man because his labor was accomplishing more than that of the other workers. He worked harder, and to me, that meant the collars did not inhibit one’s natural character when under their influence. A slothful man would remain so. A hard-working man would not lose that admirable quality. I prefer dealing with hard workers, for, in my opinion, they have an ingrained sense of duty and responsibility. In addition, a strong intuitive feeling led me to this man, though I could not say why.

I touched one of the two control devices we now possessed to the man’s arm and told him to stand still. Immediately, he responded. I took my key, unlocked his neckpiece, removed it, and stepped back.

The man rapidly blinked several times, and then he jerked as if someone had poked him with a sharp stick. His sight gradually focused and he saw us. His eyes widened, and they began to dart wildly about as he took in his surroundings. Confused and wary, he stepped back, his eyes still roving but now appearing to seek an avenue of escape. He spotted the pick lying among the rocks, and I could almost read his mind.

“Relax,” I spoke. “You won’t need a weapon. You have nothing to fear from us.”

He responded to my voice with a sharp, suspicious gaze. He stared for several moments at our group as if internally debating what course of action to take. That the one speaking to him was a woman seemed to puzzle him.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “How did I get here?” The man’s voice boomed, the voice of one accustomed to command.

“You were kidnapped,” I said to ease into things. “We have just rescued you.”

“Kidnapped?” he said, perplexed. “What are you talking about? My men and I”—he glanced around at the shabby, dirty workers near him but seemed not to recognize any of them. “Where are my men?” he thundered.

“I know nothing about your men,” I responded, “but if you let me explain, I can—”

“I demand to know—”

“Shut up,” said an irritated Izzy. “You will make no demands. You will listen to Sanyel explain, which she can do much better if you stop interrupting. If you refuse to listen and start demanding again, I’ll cut your tongue out and shove it down your throat. Do you understand?”

Izzy’s graphically described threat left the man momentarily speechless. In spite of the threat, I think he had considered challenging again but after sizing Izzy up thought better of it, for he simply said, “Yes, I understand.”

I held up the collar I had removed from the man’s neck and said, “Look at this. You were wearing it. When people wear it, they remember nothing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The people who abducted you first put you to sleep, and then they placed this collar around your neck, which makes you forget. Do you remember hearing a droning noise?”

That sparked recognition.

“Yes, yes, my men and I heard this loud, deep buzzing that seemed to come from everywhere!” He then looked baffled and shook his head. “It’s strange, but I don’t seem to remember anything after that.”

“The noise put you to sleep,” I explained. “While asleep, they put that collar on you, and you have worn it ever since. It has made you forget everything that has happened to you since the sleep.”

“How is that possible? Is this some sort of dark magic?”

“It may appear that way, but it’s not, at least to those who understand it. My understanding of how it works is limited, and I haven’t the time to explain in any detail what I do understand. We are trying to—”

“How long was I that way?”

“We don’t know. You could have been in that collar for a day—or for a lot longer. The people who took you have been using you for slave labor. Look around. Not one of these men knows that he is working, spending his hours breaking and hauling stone. Their kidnappers give them orders and they obey, but they are not aware of anything, not even the passing of time.”

The man gazed out over the collared ones. Then he gasped.

“Calak!” he shouted, and he began racing toward a man lifting a heavy chunk of broken rock onto a cart platform.

We followed and watched the man’s fruitless effort to gain Calak’s attention.

“He is not aware of you,” Javen told him, “and he won’t be until we remove his collar. Is he a friend?”

“He is one of my men.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

The man turned to me. “I am his commanding officer. We are soldiers.”

That made sense. He had the look and the demeanor.

“In whose service?” queried Jankan.

“We are Creet.”

This was getting interesting. “You’re a long way from Grell,” I noted.

He gave me a look. “So, you know of our homeland?” He then scanned our entire group and added, “Who are you, anyway?”

“We are a group of citizens seeking to find out what has happened to the kidnapped wife and daughter of this man, our friend,” I responded, pointing to Kersla. “Our investigation has led us here. We found you and these others. The three dead men you see over there attacked us and forced us to defend ourselves. They are part of those who oversee the workers. The vacant-faced one sitting on the rock with the collar around his neck is another of their men. We had been interrogating him and his partner when the other three arrived and interfered.”

“His partner?” said the man.

“He escaped while we were forced to fight the other three.”

The man paused to take that all in, and then he eyed us with a keen appraisal before saying, “How do you know so much about these people and such things as how these neck rings work?”

I laughed. “We knew almost nothing about these kidnappers or their devices when we began this journey. We have learned a lot since then, but we don’t know all. We feel, though, that we are getting close to our destination and to learning the final answers we seek regarding the fate of our friend’s missing family and that of many others they have abducted over the years.”

“You have taken this on alone, this small group?” he then remarked, incredulous. “I find it hard to grasp that so few in number would risk this but especially that two women would involve themselves in such a dangerous undertaking.”

I smiled. “We two are not as helpless as we seem. Two of those three dead men could vouch for that—if they could still speak.”

A hint of surprise crossed the Creet soldier’s face. He studied Izzy and me anew. He had already judged Izzy a tough character, but I think he noticed for the first time the deadly weapons we both carried. He nodded his head as if in approval.

He then looked to me curiously and said, “You appear to lead and speak for this group. No offense, but why is that? I would have thought your friend would lead, since it’s his family you seek.”

“Kersla purposely came to me to help find his wife and daughter. He expected me to lead the search. He did so because he felt I was the person best suited to the task.”

“And why is that?”

“Let’s just say that I have acquired a reputation for having certain skills that can assist in successfully helping people in difficult circumstances.”



I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon where you can download your free copy : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael...

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

Bones of the Gods (update 6, excerpt)

I see that several months have passed since my last update of Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel of my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. My writing progress has slowed these past several months, but I hope to pick up the pace soon. Meantime, here’s a sample from Chapter Nineteen, preceded by a setup to the scene. As usual, the writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel, her mate Javen, and her good friend Izzy have agreed to help a former acquaintance, an ex-slave named Kersla, locate his missing, presumed kidnapped wife and daughter. With the help of regional government agents Jankan and Kenter, they have accumulated clues pointing to a culture that for unknown reasons has been sending out small parties to abduct people for thousands of years. These abductors have ancient devices that aid in their kidnapping. One is a pendant that emits a droning sound that causes people to fall asleep, and the other is a multi-purpose device that protects the kidnappers from the noise’s effects. Kenter has fallen into the hands of one of these small bands, and after a brief separation, Jankan has rejoined Sanyel and her friends to pursue. They have been traveling by boat down a swift river gorge, but nightfall has forced them to shore until morning. During the night, a bird’s warning call has awakened them.

Sester—the sun god
punch gun—an advanced weapon from an ancient, vanished civilization
Gamaal—survivor from that ancient civilization, rescued by Sanyel and friends from five thousand years in suspended animation



A man’s throaty laugh reached us from upriver.

I glanced at our fire. It had nearly burned out, leaving only a few barely visible orange coals. No smoke rose from the charred wood. That was good. Nothing would give our presence away. A distinctive scraping sound returned my attention to the blackness upriver. It appeared someone had beached a boat on the gravel shore. Another scraping followed. Men’s voices, muffled by distance, alerted us that we had more than one visitor. Did two craft land or was the scraping from a single vessel?

Javen had crawled over to me and now whispered, “I’ll sneak over to take a look at our uninvited guests.” I nodded, knowing his practiced stealth as a hunter would allow him to get within viewing distance without detection, even in the dead of night. Izzy and Jankan had also moved up beside me as Javen rose and disappeared silently into the gloom. Kersla seemed content to remain where he was.

“Abductors?” suggested Izzy, keeping her voice low.

“Could be,” I replied. “Whoever they are, I can’t believe they were on the river. Traveling at night on swiftly moving water seems a bit risky, doesn’t it?”

“Not necessarily,” said Jankan. “They do have a bit of moonlight, so if you know the route well enough, you’d probably feel confident running it under that condition.”

As he spoke, a flickering light appeared not too distant up the shore.

“Campfire,” said Izzy. “Looks like they’re staying awhile.”

A faint smoke odor from the campfire drifted to us on the light breeze. We talked among ourselves in low whispers, waiting for Javen’s return. He arrived after a short period with disturbing news.

“Two boats of abductors,” he told us. “There are five men in all, one of them a prisoner, a young man.”

I groaned and then muttered, “I hate complications. Why didn’t they just pass by? Why did they have to stop here?”

“The sun god likes to keep our lives interesting,” said Izzy. She grinned and added, “Of course, interesting usually means difficult.”

I had to chuckle at that. That wasn’t far from the truth.

“I saw something strange with the prisoner,” Javen then said. “He didn’t seem normal. What I mean is that he paid no attention to his surroundings. He did what the kidnappers instructed him to do, but he showed nothing on his face. He didn’t even look at those telling him what to do. He just did what the men ordered.”

“Perhaps he was in shock,” said Jankan.

Javen frowned, skeptical, and replied, “I don’t know. He seemed almost—how should I say this—like his mind was under control or something. Oh, and he had something around his neck. It looked like a thin, circular object, like a necklace but plain, with nothing hanging from it.”

“Slave collar, maybe?” said Jankan. “Was a rope or chain attached to it?”

Javen shook his head. “No, I saw nothing like that.”

Izzy then offered her opinion for a course of action, saying, “Well, whatever it is, we won’t know unless we can examine it. Perhaps we should try to rescue the captive.”

She looked at me and nodded toward the bag holding the punch gun.

“You can’t be suggesting we risk confronting them!” said an appalled Jankan. “We’d be lucky to get anywhere near them. They’d put us to sleep, and we’d wind up waking to find some of our people missing.”

Jankan was understandably reluctant to confront the abductors. Through negligence, his partner was now a prisoner of the kidnappers. He must have felt a burden of shared responsibility for that outcome, and he didn’t want to repeat that mistake. However, he didn’t know we had a weapon that could preempt any attempt by the abductors to use their sleep device—if it worked. The punch gun could render their entire party unconscious and leave us unaffected. At least, I hoped it could. Possibly the smaller device the kidnappers carried might protect them against the effects of the punch gun, neutralizing it like it did their droning pendant. The only way to know was to try the gun and see.

However, Jankan knew nothing about the gun and neither did Kersla. Did we dare show them this formidable weapon? I knew that my worry about these ancient tools falling into the wrong hands probably approached paranoia, but this destructive device warranted that caution. Was there some way we could use it without those two becoming aware of it? I didn’t see any possibility of that, so I saw no recourse but to reveal it.

“I have not wanted to tell you this,” I said to them, “because it is a sensitive matter and one our tribe would rather keep secret from others.”

Jankan and Kersla were immediately curious.

“We have a powerful weapon that can put people to sleep, similar to what the abductors have, but we can narrow this device’s range so that it affects only a single person if we want it to. It's another device invented by the ancients.”

Jankan's eyes expanded.

“You have something that can do what they do, put people to sleep? Why didn’t you reveal this sooner?”

“It's a dangerous weapon,” I replied. “We've come to realize we don’t want it to ever fall into the wrong hands, so we are careful in its use and to whom we allow knowledge of its existence.”

“Dangerous in what way?” asked Jankan.

“It can kill.”

I didn’t elaborate but instead moved to the pack holding the weapon and withdrew it. The gun’s sleek, metallic skin shone in the moonlight.

“Stay here,” I said to everyone as I adjusted the gun’s control settings. “I’ll move in closer to our visitors and try to put them to sleep. I won’t be long.”

Jankan objected to me going alone, but Javen cut him off. “Let her go. She knows what she’s doing.”

As I moved off, I hoped this finicky weapon would decide to work this time. Gamaal had been unable to fix the gun’s inconsistency, declaring that a module charging issue played a significant part. We couldn’t alleviate the problem because we had no other module of that type with which to replace it. We never knew when the device had enough of an energy charge to function properly, for it could only reach ten percent of its standard capacity. That was sufficient to fire the weapon, and it didn’t affect the expelled electrical impulse's awesome power, but it left no reserve to shoot a second time. Thus, we had to let the weapon charge after each use, and the time it took to charge always varied, never seeming a predictable length. We hadn’t been able to determine if the gun’s misfires were due to trying to use the weapon while it was still charging or if an additional issue contributed to the failures.

We had not used the weapon for a long while, so I was confident the gun currently held its maximum ten percent charge. I had been walking upright in the moonlight but now began silently crawling over warm sand toward the campfire glow, moving between boulders to avoid open exposure for too long, though I doubted the abductors could see anything beyond the dazzling firelight into which they stared. I edged closer and then stopped behind a good-sized boulder, eased my head around it, and took a good look. I counted five figures sitting around a campfire, the number Javen had reported. Now was the perfect time to see if the gun worked—and to find out if the abductors had immunity to it. I realized that if the gun’s sting affected only the captive, then the ensuing commotion from the others might make it difficult for me to get back to my companions, but I was willing to take that risk.

I had set the stun setting wide enough to include those sitting and not so wide as to knock unconscious every other living thing in the area, though I knew any animals or birds within the zone of the discharge would unavoidably fall victim. I raised the weapon, pointed it, and pulled the trigger. A soft buzz emanated from the gun, and to my delight, five people crumpled.

“Dammit!” I then yelled for an unconscious kidnapper had toppled forward into the fire. I rose quickly, raced toward the camp, and dragged the man from the flames. I hurried to snuff out the small blazes that had caught hold of his clothing, and as I examined the unconscious man for any burn injuries, my companions arrived.

“What happened?” asked Javen. “Why did you shout?”

“This man keeled over into the fire. Lucky he didn’t fall face first. I don’t see any skin burns.”

Jankan stood staring at the sprawled bodies before saying in astonishment, “Your weapon did this?”

“Yes,” I responded, “but they only sleep.” I grabbed the gun from the ground beside me and handed it to Izzy, who then placed it in the pack from which I had retrieved it.

“I’m impressed,” Jankan then said. “These ancient devices are more remarkable than I ever imagined. And you say this one can kill? I’m sure my government would be very interested in looking at these items. Perhaps our brightest minds can figure out how to manufacture more.”

Jankan’s words chilled me. My worst fear regarding these ancient objects' potential abuse was materializing. However, I could do something about that. I stood and faced the government agent.

“You will speak to no one about the devices we have shown you. I can’t prevent you from attempting to make use of the abductors’ items, for your agents already know of them. But you will tell no one about my tribe’s machines.”

My tone, harsh and delivered with all the authority I could muster, took Jankan aback. He stared at me, probing for the reason behind my sudden anger. Then, he seemed to take issue with my demand.

“I’m afraid I can’t accede to your wishes. I am a loyal employee of my government, and duty requires I report to them anything I find of potential value.” A pained look crossed Jankan’s face. “I wouldn’t want to, but I have the authority to take your items from you, for by law all foreign products brought into the country are subject to confiscation if deemed a threat to peace and tranquility. But there’s no need for that. Why don’t we cooperate? We can both benefit from studying these devices.”

“You don’t understand,” I said. “The sun god will not allow you to have these items.”

That response mystified Jankan.

“The sun god?”

“Sanyel is the representative of the sun god among humans,” spoke up Kersla. “She's his right hand. That's why I came to her to help find my wife and daughter. Sester will guide her to them.”

Kersla wholeheartedly believed that because he grew up in a culture (as did I) in which the magical and mystical, along with an all-powerful creator, were readily accepted. Jankan, on the other hand, seemed to be a worldly, practical man, disinclined to believe that which he could not see and prove as real. He now shook his head and with an almost dismissive tone, said, “You claim to be this ‘right hand’ of Sester?”

“I do,” I responded. “The sun god has granted me certain powers, the nature of which I disclose to very few. People say he chose me as his divine representative to bring change to this world. He guides me on occasion, but most often he allows me to use my discretion in dealing with the people and circumstances I encounter.”

Though I had credited others with naming me the hand of Sester, I was, in truth, the only one perpetuating that alleged association. However, Kersla then boosted my assertions by telling Jankan he had witnessed my powers firsthand and thus he knew I was, in fact, the chosen right hand of the divine Sester.

Jankan opened his mouth to say something but then stopped, momentarily at a loss how to respond. He then said, “I have never been a religious man or one to believe in supernatural things, so please excuse me if I sound skeptical. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m having a hard time believing any of this.”

I knew I had to prove my assertion factual somehow, and as I struggled to find a way to do that, a solution appeared as if right on cue from the sun god. A raffer had stuck its pointed snout from around a small stone, and it had begun scurrying across the sand toward the safety of another. I casually crossed my arms low in front of me, letting my right wrist come to rest in the gentle hold of my left hand. With a quick glance at my bracelet of bones, I found the raffer fragment. While touching it, I spoke before the rodent could reach his sanctuary and escape my sight.

“Raffer, come to me, the hand of Sester, and sit before me.”

Jankan stared at me with incomprehension until startled by the small creature passing in front of him, heading my way. The raffer stopped before me and tilted its small head upward to gaze at me. I stole a glance at Jankan, and his confused face had altered into open-mouthed astonishment.

“Raffer, turn your head to look at Jankan.”

The sight was remarkable. The rodent sat in place, still facing me, and rotated its neck until its gaze locked upon the government agent. Added to the astonishment on the man’s face was now disbelief and alarm.

“Raffer, you may go about your business, but before you leave, please give us a little dance and a small leap into the air.”

The raffer did a pirouette on its hind legs, accomplished the short jump, and then scurried off.

I gave the astounded Jankan my best cold stare and stated, “As the hand of the sun god, power over animals is but one power granted me. The rest I won’t reveal, for you are not privy to them. I’ll simply leave the possibilities to your imagination, but I assure you they are formidable.”

I had only a couple of others, of course, one being an exaggerated strength in my right arm and the other an uncanny accuracy with weapons over long distances, but I didn’t want him to know that. I find it better to keep people in the dark as much as possible and let their minds conjure up greater terrors than those that actually exist.

Jankan continued to display his incredulous expression. He tried to speak.

“I . . . I don’t . . . I . . .”

“I know this is difficult to understand,” I said when realizing he was trying his best to grasp what he had seen and was failing. “I don’t comprehend it fully myself. Except for this inexplicable link to the sun god, I am in most ways just like everyone else. I don’t wish it to affect how people see me or react toward me. I value those who prove their friendship, but I can be a forbidding enemy to those who cross me and defy the will of Sester. I would like to think we are friends, and I would like to be able to count on your help in solving the mystery of the abductors. Can I?”

My words focused his attention, and for the first time since I’d known him, Jankan seemed unsure of himself. Then, he quickly regained his professional demeanor. “You can,” he said, his voice again steady and strong. “I apologize for my doubts. I see I have much yet to learn about what is true and possible in this world. Please forgive my ignorance.”

“Nothing to forgive,” I responded, dismissing his concern. “I do not profess any greater insight than the next person. I only have the extra benefit of Sester’s divine guidance, and that's not constant by any means. We are all human and thus imperfect. I claim no exalted position.”

“Well, we can all be glad of that,” said a chuckling Izzy in her direct and irreverent manner. “We all know you’d be insufferable if you did.”

Jankan showed surprise over Izzy’s bold, stinging comment, but then he heard my laughter in response. Quickly, he understood no one in my circle saw me as someone they felt obligated to elevate above them and that I didn’t see myself that way either. He seemed relieved.


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon where you can download your free copy : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael...

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

A Brief History of Planet Dar

Before a catastrophic event that occurred five thousand years ago changed everything, the ancients referred to a particular world as Dar. Dar, an earthlike planet inhabited by humans, had existed for billions of years and had gone through all the stages of planetary evolution. Its twin moons (later called Numa and Nima by the ancients) had revolved around the planet from the beginning, watching dispassionately as a lengthy volcanic activity gradually decreased over time and allowed the molten seas and rivers to cool. A solid crust formed and water began to flow. Biological life took root, and in time it evolved into complex and diverse forms of flora and fauna. Giant beasts roamed the surface for a time, only to die off in several unrecorded planet-wide calamities. The world went on, new forms of life flourished—and then the first humans appeared.

These early humans banded together in small, primitive units and struggled to survive as hunter/gatherers. Those who did survive advanced the culture, and from their efforts agrarian societies eventually formed and then industrial ones. Villages became towns and towns became cities. Clashes over land, religion, culture, race, nationality, and every other possible area of contention abounded. As the population continued to expand, disputes grew in proportion, with individual conflicts, though still unabated, now dwarfed by raging international conflagrations. This world called Dar gradually became a technologically advanced one and eventually reached a point of reconciliation. Understanding, peace, and inclusiveness among its populations resulted in universally accepted rule through a global government. Then, disaster struck. A scientist wishing to extend his life for eternity unwittingly released a deadly virus upon the world. Billions died. The advanced society quickly crumbled for the simple reason that too few knowledgeable people remained to keep it organized and running. The fear that all humanity would perish proved false, however, for a small minority of humans remained immune. As is true in all groups, those destined to live included the high and low intellectually, spiritually, and morally. Smart, lazy, insane, brave, cruel, faithful, cowardly… Many of them would not survive the dystopian nightmare that followed, but those who did saved humankind from extinction.

However, this is not their story. Five thousand years have passed since the deadly outbreak decimated the world’s population. The name Dar has long been forgotten. Humans survived and in many ways thrived, finding a way to rise from the ashes of their near extermination. Isolated for all these years from each other, human societies have grown at different rates and in unexpected ways. Tribes of hunter/gatherers exist, along with more advanced cultures, though none has come close to reaching the level of the ancients. Thus, these pre-industrial societies still rely on the light of the sun, the moons, the torch, or the campfire to banish the darkness. Around those campfires, storytellers tell the tales. They regale with legends of the ancients, of a lost civilization sophisticated beyond imagining. They claim this world had vessels that flew through the air and swam beneath the sea. These remarkable ancestors lived in towering structures and spoke to each other over great distances. The stories perhaps embellish, but to this day, those tales still astound eager listeners who gather around the campfire to hear and wonder.

A young tribal girl, Sanyel, was one who marveled at these stories, not realizing that her world and that lost world of the ancients would one day intertwine. This is her story…

The first book in the Sanyel series, Sanyel, is FREE in e-book form at numerous online retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon for a free download of the complete novel :
https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

Christmas Short Story Revisited

It's back! For a heartwarming Christmas tale, check out my FREE Christmas short story, "A Gift for Joey," a sweet-sad tale of generosity, acceptance, and new beginnings. Two stories from my children’s book, Seven and One Tales for Young Readers are included with the Christmas story. You can download a copy at the retailers listed. The links shown are to my book pages at each carrier.

BARNES & NOBLE- http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-gif...
iBOOKSTORE- https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-gi...
KOBO- http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/eboo...
SCRIBD- https://www.scribd.com/book/194454857...
SMASHWORDS- https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...

Bones of the Gods (update 5, excerpt)

I have reached 70,000 words in writing Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. I have been posting occasional updates and excerpts. Following is another short sample, preceded by a setup to the scene. The writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel and her friends are helping a past acquaintance search for his kidnapped wife and daughter. While traveling a river gorge, thieves waylay them, but the two parties soon come to an understanding when the thieves discover Sanyel’s identity. As Sanyel sits on a forest stump conversing with Tolbane, a former shaman apprentice who is the thieves’ resident doctor, a disturbance draws them to Perlik, the son of a previous governor who reluctantly joined the thieves a couple years prior and who has since come down with a deadly illness that causes him to cough up blood. The thieves, especially a man named Rettan, do not respect Perlik and treat him with disdain, for he is the son of a ruler who collaborated with former occupiers of their land. Sanyel, however, has found Perlik worthy of her respect. Perlik owns a valuable sword that Rettan covets.

can-rak—fierce carnivore, the most dangerous creature on the planet, Sanyel’s spirit animal
starfen—squirrel-like animal
Sester—the sun god (also known as Ra-ta or Mim)


While conversing with Tolbane, the sound of a rough, persistent cough drew my attention toward the settlement houses. After a few moments, it stopped, and then a murmur of concerned voices began, soon intensifying. Tolbane and I rose from our stump seats to investigate the commotion.

Near a house centrally located among the others, a crowd had gathered. As we approached, I glimpsed a white form on the ground. The crowd parted as both Tolbane and I urged the people to let us through. Perlik lay on his stomach, motionless upon the forest soil, an outstretched hand clutching the square white cloth I had seen him use earlier. A fresh and sizable crimson stain stood out upon the rag’s pale fabric.

“Everyone step back,” I called out. Tolbane, who possessed medical training from his years as a shaman’s apprentice, knelt before the prostrate man and turned him over. He put an ear to the man’s mouth and then to his chest.

“He yet lives,” he told me, “but the breathing is shallow and the heart faint. I don’t believe he has long. He has been suffering from the bite of a sakraf for months.”

I had thought snakebite a possible cause of his illness. A sakraf was a slithering reptile with a lethal bite. There was no known antidote to its venom. The victim can function normally for months after the fatal bite, but eventually, a persistent cough develops. Once you start coughing up blood, sudden death could strike you at any time. Tolbane said Perlik knew all this, but he refused to let it rule what life remained to him.

Perlik then inhaled a cavernous breath and his eyes popped open. He tried to sit up but couldn’t, and he began to turn his head and look about wildly as if searching for someone. He sight landed on me. A weak arm gestured for me to come to him. As I knelt beside him, he grabbed my right wrist with unexpected strength, and he gazed with steady eyes into my own.

“The can-rak,” he began, and then his throat convulsed as if forcing a cough, but he managed to hold it off. He swallowed and said, “The can-rak said to give you this.” He guided my hand down to the sword at his side. “Take it with my blessing. It is yours now.”

At those words, his hand loosened and fell from mine. He slumped into stillness. I checked for signs of life and found none. Perlik was dead.

I informed the others, and a respectful hush descended upon us. While we stood in reverent silence, the sounds of nature persisted, unaffected by the man’s passing. Birds continued to chirp and sing. Insects buzzed with their usual urgency, oblivious to the solemnity of those standing in death’s presence. Wind disturbed the forest leaves and a starfen chattered.

Tolbane then spoke, breaking death’s spell and releasing us from its enchantment.

“Why did he want you to have his sword?”

“I don’t know.”

“He said a can-rak told him to give it to you,” said Rettan. “Sounds like he was delirious.”

“Probably,” I replied.

A can-rak told him. What could that mean? Had he stepped one foot into the next world and briefly returned with a message? Did my spirit animal speak to him?

“If you do not wish the blade, I will take it off your hands,” said Rettan, an expectant, desirous gleam in his eyes.

Rettan had seized the moment, seeing it as a perfect opportunity to gain possession of the valuable item, but he was out of luck. I did not intend to relinquish the sword to him, no matter how much he coveted it.

“No, I will accept Perlik’s gift. These things don’t happen by chance. I believe Sester influenced Perlik’s words. I feel the sun god wants me to have this sword.”

Whether that was true or not, I didn’t care, but I was not going to give Perlik’s heirloom to one who had treated him with such disrespect. Perlik had said a can-rak instructed him to give the sword to me, and the dying man had given his blessing as well, so I felt it my duty to honor his last request.


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

Bones of the Gods (update 4, excerpt)

I have reached the halfway point in writing Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This entertaining, adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. I have been posting occasional updates and excerpts. Following is the latest sample, preceded by a setup to the scene. The writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel is helping a former acquaintance, Kersla, find out what happened to his kidnapped wife and daughter. They have discovered that a mysterious society has been abducting selected individuals throughout the country for possibly thousands of years. They currently pursue a man named Skodan, a member of one of several kidnapping crews that roam the region looking for victims. Skodan has escaped in a boat down a river gorge, believing he has foiled his pursuers. Sanyel and Kersla, however, have lucked upon a second boat Skodan tried unsuccessfully to release downriver. As they float down the lazy waterway, Skodan is at least an hour ahead of them, but they are content to pursue unseen, not wanting Skodan to know they are still on his trail. However, an obstacle now confronts them.

punch gun—a weapon from an ancient vanished civilization
rik-ta—knife


Up ahead and to the right, several boats had pushed out from the shore. I counted four. Each craft held two occupants, and they were on an intercepting course. Who were they? Friends of Skodan?

“What do we do?”

Kersla’s voice held apprehension. We couldn’t outrun them. They had a perfect angle that no maneuver on our part could change in our favor.

“Keep calm,” I told my companion. “We’ll have to see what they want. We can’t get past them. My weapons are ready to use if necessary.”

I didn’t have the punch gun. That would have been an ideal weapon for this situation. I had my bow, plenty of arrows, and my rik-ta. They would have to suffice.

The head boat had reached a point ahead of us, and the other three soon joined it, fanning out to block any hope of passage. A full-bearded man in the first boat pointed toward the right-hand shore, a clear signal for us to head there at once.

“Do what he wants,” I told Kersla.

He turned to me with anxious eyes.

“Are you sure? Can’t you work your magic on them?”

“I’m afraid there’s little I can do at the moment,” I admitted. Shooting my arrows at them was an option, but I didn't know their reason for detaining us. I might wind up killing innocents.

We headed the boat to shore while the other boats followed. Beaching the craft, we jumped out onto a strip that was wider and sandier than most areas bordering the river. I had been searching that shoreline as we came in, seeking something that might give us an advantage over our detainers, should it prove necessary. All I spotted was a set of crumbling stone steps embedded in the canyon slope about fifty paces from where we beached, steps that rose from the sand strip and extended to the forested canyon rim above. I thought it a safe guess to assume this group had made its way down to the beach from there. If these men proved hostile, we would have several choices: stand and fight, accept capture, or try racing down the shoreline in an attempt to escape. I didn’t like any of those options.

“Get on your knees, facing me,” yelled the bearded man as his boat touched shore, “and stay that way until told otherwise.”

We did as told, although I was becoming more uncomfortable with this situation by the minute. I carried my bow around my shoulder and a pouch of arrows on my back, ready to respond if bodily threatened. The group’s leader currently seemed more interested in the boat than in us, so he must not have realized the bow was a weapon, even though he had glanced at it. My guess was he saw a girl carrying the unfamiliar object and thus automatically dismissed any danger.

“Search their boat,” ordered the head man as the other boats landed. He was a thin man with a scratchy voice that sounded as if a rough tool had scraped away all its smooth edges. His age I couldn’t determine, though I thought he might be in his forties. He wore dirty clothes and sandals that had seen better days.

All of his companions were men. They varied in age, but all seemed to reflect the grubbiness of their leader. They seemed a no-nonsense group.

“What have you found?” the leader called to the two men examining our boat.

“Just some food and a couple of paddles,” one said in reply. “We’re still checking an open space we found in the flooring.”

The bearded man turned to us. “What valuables do you carry?”

I pondered how to answer that. “None,” I then replied.

That comment drew an unreadable stare. “Then you’re not much good to us are you?” he said, and he turned his gaze back to the boat.

“I can get you valuables,” I responded, trying anything to stall a possible unfortunate outcome for us.

He looked to me again, still with no readable expression. “Of course you can,” he then said in a bored manner, and he returned his attention to those searching the boat. It seemed he had judged, quickly and correctly, that my offer held no truth.

The man soon ascertained from his men that no valuables lay hidden in the depths of the boat. He now came closer to discover what we carried on us, and again he spotted the weapon slung across my shoulder.

“What is that?”

“It’s a bow,” I said, saying it as if anyone with any brains would know that.

“What’s it for?” the man asked, showing remarkable patience after getting attitude from me instead of a useful response.

I had been telling others that the device was an exercise tool, but I judged this man too shrewd to accept that explanation.

“It’s a weapon for taking down small animals, nothing to concern—”

The man came forward with surprising quickness and grabbed the bow, yanking it from around my shoulder, scraping some skin in the process.

“Show me how to use it,” the man commanded, “and no tricks.”

Tricks? Me? How could the man think me capable of such a thing?

“Do you mind if I stand?”

The man eyed me with that expressionless stare.

“Go ahead.”

I pulled myself to my feet and instantly shot my right hand out to retrieve my bow from the man’s loose grasp. The powerful yank with my formidable right arm tore the bow from the man as if taking a toy from a child, causing his previous blank expression to turn to one of surprise.

Faster than the batting of an eye, I grabbed an arrow from my back pouch, fitted it to the bow, and aimed the weapon at the man’s heart.

“This is how the weapon works,” I said to him. “This pointed rod flies from this taut string pierces your heart and kills you. Would you like a demonstration?”

The man’s companions began to edge toward me.

“Tell them to stay back, or you’re a dead man.”

The man raised a hand and his men halted. He appraised me with a keener interest than he had shown before. Imminent death does tend to sharpen one’s focus. I had noted that this crew carried only knives as weapons, so I felt I had an advantage with mine, a carrier of death from distance. I backed off a ways to put a little room between us. Kersla rose from his knees, followed, and then stood behind me.

“We seem to be at a stalemate,” the bearded man said.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand the word,” I replied. “We are not in equal positions. I could probably kill all of you before a single one of you could touch me. I am very fast and very efficient with this weapon. Still, even if I could kill only half your men, you would certainly be the first to die.”

The bearded man contemplated that and remained stationary, but one of his men made a subtle shift forward.

“Stay where you are,” I warned. The leader turned to look at the man I had addressed.

“Do you have somewhere to go, Petak?” he asked the man in a casual tone.

“Uh . . . no, Rettan.”

“Good. I had a feeling you didn’t.”

Rettan turned back to me. “So, how do we resolve our little dilemma?”

“Well, if you can answer a couple of questions of mine, I might just let you live and go your way.”

Rettan chuckled, showing that his hirsute face was capable of even more expressions than just surprise.

“I guess talk never hurt anyone. Ask your couple of questions.”

“Did you see another boat pass by here not long before we came along?”

“No.”

“You must have. How could you have missed it?”

“We just arrived.”

Rettan then smiled and said, “That’s two answered questions. Now you can let us go, as you said you would.”

“I said I might let you go.”

This was a hairy situation. I was adjusting on the fly. I had no idea if I could handle all these men if they decided to rush me.

Rettan smiled again, and only then did I catch the others' grins. They were furtively looking at something behind me and to my right, so I swiftly shot a glance that direction.

Oh, crap! From the heights above, armed men descended, crowding the steps embedded in the canyon wall. They were still a good distance away, having negotiated only a third of the stairway.

“Order them to halt and keep their distance,” I commanded Rettan, “or you’re a dead man.”

The bearded man shrugged. “I am not in command. Our leader is among those men coming down the steps. He would ignore any order I tried to give him, but if you shoot me with your weapon, he would not be pleased. Your situation is hopeless, young woman, for if you kill one of us now, things would go very badly for you and your friend. Surrender, and I promise no harm will come to you. We are thieves, not murderers.”

I didn’t know if he spoke the truth. I had no idea what to do. He knew I could not hold off all who now approached with my limited arrows. My bluff to kill him and those with him was no longer effective, and I had no other leverage.

“Disrupter, what do we do?” asked a nervous Kersla.

At Kersla’s words, Rettan’s countenance underwent a dramatic change.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Disrupter?” He stared at me with unabashed astonishment. “You are the Disrupter?”

This was an interesting development. He had heard of me. Judging by their similarly surprised exclamations, his men had as well.

“Yes, some people call me that.”

The man studied me closely, probably weighing whether or not to believe me. Then, he thought of a way to determine the truth of my claimed identity. “Will you show me the palm scar?”

I still held my bow stretched, with my arrow pointed to his chest, but I knew it was fruitless to continue pretending I had any advantage. Besides, Rettan had not demanded I show him the scar; his request had been polite. I released the tension on the bow and lifted my right hand to allow him to see the clearly defined red image of a spearhead burned into my palm, the mark of a childhood accident that had since become an infamous brand. A prophecy had mentioned the burn mark and identified its carrier as a person to be feared, a person the prophecy called the Disrupter. As I have related before, I fulfilled that prophecy a couple of years ago.

“You can put your weapon away,” Rettan said after viewing the scar. He then added, “You have no enemies here, Disrupter.”



I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.

Bones of the Gods (update 3, excerpt)

I have been posting occasional updates and excerpts as I write Bones of the Gods, the fourth novel in my ongoing Sanyel series. These books are action/adventure with a touch of fantasy and include some elements of mystery, paranormal, and sci-fi. This exciting, entertaining, adventure-filled series features an astute, ass-kicking protagonist, the gifted daughter of a tribal shaman who becomes the catalyst for change in a male-dominated world. I have completed about 40,000 words and felt it was time to share another sample. Following is the latest excerpt, preceded by a setup to the scene. The writing is still in an early stage, so expect further editing before the final version.

Tribal shaman Sanyel has been investigating the disappearance of the wife and daughter of a past acquaintance. This man, Kersla, along with Sanyel’s mate Javen and her good friend Izzy, have heard accounts of other vanishings during their journey to Kersla’s country. While stopping in a village to eat, Kersla recognizes two men who he claims eyed him suspiciously when he had passed through a different town earlier, when on his way to enlist Sanyel’s help. The two men again arouse suspicion, so Sanyel and her friends decide to tail them. After an ambush by the two men, who had their own suspicions of Sanyel’s group, the group learns that the men, Jankan and Kenter, are in fact allies, investigators sent by the local governor to find the perpetrators of the kidnappings.


Governor Tolkin’s agents informed us that they had been traveling the region for the past two months. Not wishing to alert those responsible for the vanishings to the investigators' true purpose, they had kept their mission masked, pretending to be investors seeking business opportunities. They would strike up conversations with people in villages or other areas, and during these general conversations, they would manage to slip in that they had heard about someone disappearing into thin air while traveling a road in the region. They would pretend to have apprehension over taking roads unsafe for travelers. If a vanishing had happened in that village or nearby, they figured people would then be eager to talk about it.

“So, what have you learned?” asked Izzy.

“Well,” said Jankan, “out of the twenty or so villages we have visited so far, only one knew of a recent vanishing, a man who disappeared on a journey between his town and another. However, at a meeting held a month ago with the other agents assigned to this investigation, we exchanged information on what all of us had found to that point. At that meeting, our fellow investigators reported discovering the disappearances of fifteen people in the prior month, with these occurring over a considerably scattered area. Ten were male and five female. Three of the males and two of the females were children.”

“Do you have any physical descriptions of the children or their ages?” I asked.

“Ages yes, but little else,” said Jankan. “Is this important?”

“It might be. We’re not sure yet.”

“Well, I’m afraid we didn’t get much on physical appearances. The boys were all young, all seven years old they told us. Oh, I remember someone said one of the boys had blond hair.”

An excited Kersla burst out, “Blond! It looks like you were right, Disrupter!”

“Disrupter?” said Kenter with a look of puzzlement.

“Just a name people gave me once,” I responded, dismissing it with a shrug.

“It seems quite an interesting name. I’d like to hear the story behind that,” said Jankan.

“There’s nothing to tell, really. Boring stuff. Let’s get back to the children. You said one of the boys had blond hair. That might be important, and I’ll explain why in a minute. But first, was there anything on the girls?”

“Both were twelve. Other than that, there was no other description. You have to understand that we were trying to be subtle in how we approached these conversations. We could casually ask how old someone was when the subject of a vanishing came up, but asking about hair color or other personal details would look suspicious. In retrospect, I feel the governor erred in not allowing us to conduct an open investigation. He should have let us state who we were and why we were there, so we would have reason to ask more detailed and intimate questions.”

“He didn’t because he thought that might alert the abductors that someone was on to them, correct?” I said.

“Yes,” replied Jankan. “I think he hoped one of our investigators would somehow catch them in the act, but we’d have to be damn lucky for that to happen.”

“You told us the girls were twelve,” I then said. “That and the boys’ ages seem to have a connection to something we have come across. We have found, on more than one occasion, a carved or painted drawing that depicts two children and a woman. By adding your information to what we already know, it seems the kidnappers have taken several boys around seven years old along with girls aged twelve. The drawings we found show a boy and a girl who could be around those ages. The boy is blond. Have you found anything like those drawings in your investigation, either carved into trees or painted on stone?”

Both Jankan and Kenter shook their heads.

“We’ve come across nothing like that,” said Kenter.

“That’s too bad,” I replied, disappointed. “But, even if you had, we still wouldn’t know if the picture had a connection to the vanishings unless we caught the perpetrators drawing it.”

“Do you have any clue who these abductors might be?” Javen then asked Jankan.

“No, but we have noticed a few patterns in how they operate. They appear to conduct this unsavory business with great planning. First, no abduction has taken place too near another. They make sure the distance between kidnappings is a reasonable one, and they all occur in remote areas, usually along a roadway.”

“With woodlands nearby?” said Javen.

“Yes,” Jankan confirmed. “Companions of those taken, people the kidnappers did not want for some reason, have reported that forested areas were nearby the abduction sites.”

“We have the same reports,” I said, “both about the woodlands and about people not taken by the abductors. Kersla, here, is one the kidnappers did not take.”

The agent’s eyes brightened over that information.

“That is interesting,” said Jankan. “The agents we met noticed a pattern involving those the kidnappers leave behind. Nearly all are older individuals or children who don’t match the age range you mentioned. Younger, fit men seem to interest them and only women aged around twenty-five to thirty. There seems to be no interest in children outside of seven for boys and twelve for girls.”

“They take women only around twenty-five to thirty?” I said, puzzled. I looked over to Kersla and asked, “How old is your wife?”

“She is twenty-nine. We have a considerable age difference.”

I had not known that, but it wasn’t that uncommon. My mother had been much younger than my father had been, too.

“I’m curious how the kidnappers know the ages of the children they take,” said Izzy. “Seven and twelve are exact numbers. How would they know the age of these children unless they had done some extensive research beforehand?”

I shrugged. “It’s another mystery to add to the pile.”

“What about a humming noise?” Kersla asked the two government agents. “Do the people left behind, the ones the kidnappers don’t take, mention that?”

Kenter and Jankan could not conceal their surprise.

“You heard this humming before your family’s disappearance?” Kenter queried.

“Yes. The droning came, filling the air around me. I woke up an hour later and my family was gone.”

“So, you fell asleep, too,” said Kenter, musing on that. “Those who were not taken by the kidnappers all reported the same thing. What could possibly make a noise like that, one that causes people to fall asleep?”

“We are as much in the dark as you are,” I said. “Despite a growing body of information, we have come across nothing that explains the droning.”

“What about past disappearances?” Izzy then asked. “We've been coming across evidence that vanishings have been occurring for years. If your ruler and his ancestors have overseen such a vast area for as long as you say, the government must have reports on those vanishings.”

“I believe this is true,” said Jankan. “Back when I received this assignment, I overheard a high-ranking official say something to another. They had been discussing the vanishings. He told the other that he couldn’t believe this was happening again.”

“If that drawing we told you about has any bearing on this, these disappearances might have been occurring for thousands of years,” I said.

Before Jankan could reply, a sudden, startling noise interrupted.

It was a loud, deep droning.


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from the upcoming Sanyel novel, Bones of the Gods. I will post others in future updates. Sanyel, the first book in the Sanyel series, is available as an e-book FREE at various book retailers. Here’s the book page at Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Sanyel-Michael... Books in the Sanyel series are also available in paperback.

Click on any of the book covers below to find more details about the books.