Devika Fernando's Blog, page 76
January 6, 2015
Flashback: 2014 for Authors - Ruchi Singh (Guest Post)
2015 is a week old, and 2014 still fresh in our memory. So I'm happily sharing another flashback guest post by an Indian author. Read on and maybe use the chance to reflect on your own past year. This is the 5th post in the series. The 4th one can be read here.
My 2014: Ruchi Singh Discovered an amazing world…
I would like to thank Devika for inviting me to share my thoughts about year 2014.
The year 2014 was a happening year, as any year is… the family was in good health, there were some career progression, a few personal targets were achieved, on the down side I gained a few kilos instead of losing them, why let’s see…
Year 2013 left a void in my life when my elder one left the nest, and joined college. After months of pre-occupation with board exams, the entrance exams and the admissions, I was left with nothing to think or aim at.
I have always been reading… and reading a lot. My mother used to threaten that she would burn my books and my husband is still jealous of the time I am with books. But, how many books one can read without any real work?
It was then someone suggested writing. Being a process consultant I know there are many books, in fact good books in the field of process consulting. So non-fiction was a no-no. It was then my jealous husband said, why don’t you write fiction, since you relish them so much?
It was as if an amazing ‘goody bag’ has been given to me. I am not too much into short stories, so wrote a novel first. Even the first crappy draft gave me immense joy and unimaginable high of creating something for others to read. Then wrote short stories for instant gratification and results, a few got accepted for publishing and I was on cloud nine. Never thought seeing one’s name on a public media would give such an adrenaline rush.
Apart from discovering the writer in me, in 2014, I have connected with various authors and writers in the sphere, all very warm and amazing. Now, I have many creative, positive and talented friends, who understand my writing dilemmas and encourage me in my endeavors, and most of them I have not even met personally. Amazing isn’t it?
In one sentence; 2014 has been a year of discovering and taking my passion for stories to a new dimension. It would always remain as a high point in my life.
Back to my increasing girth… probably because, now I am mostly sitting and writing, or sitting and thinking about writing… well… it seems I would have to work extra hard in 2015… but I am not complaining. :-)
Connect with the Author
Ruchi Singh is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/writer.ruchisingh
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RuchiWriter
Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+RuchiSinghWriter/about
Website: www.ruchisingh.in / www.ilvfiction.com
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
My 2014: Ruchi Singh Discovered an amazing world…I would like to thank Devika for inviting me to share my thoughts about year 2014.
The year 2014 was a happening year, as any year is… the family was in good health, there were some career progression, a few personal targets were achieved, on the down side I gained a few kilos instead of losing them, why let’s see…
Year 2013 left a void in my life when my elder one left the nest, and joined college. After months of pre-occupation with board exams, the entrance exams and the admissions, I was left with nothing to think or aim at.
I have always been reading… and reading a lot. My mother used to threaten that she would burn my books and my husband is still jealous of the time I am with books. But, how many books one can read without any real work?
It was then someone suggested writing. Being a process consultant I know there are many books, in fact good books in the field of process consulting. So non-fiction was a no-no. It was then my jealous husband said, why don’t you write fiction, since you relish them so much?
It was as if an amazing ‘goody bag’ has been given to me. I am not too much into short stories, so wrote a novel first. Even the first crappy draft gave me immense joy and unimaginable high of creating something for others to read. Then wrote short stories for instant gratification and results, a few got accepted for publishing and I was on cloud nine. Never thought seeing one’s name on a public media would give such an adrenaline rush.
Apart from discovering the writer in me, in 2014, I have connected with various authors and writers in the sphere, all very warm and amazing. Now, I have many creative, positive and talented friends, who understand my writing dilemmas and encourage me in my endeavors, and most of them I have not even met personally. Amazing isn’t it?
In one sentence; 2014 has been a year of discovering and taking my passion for stories to a new dimension. It would always remain as a high point in my life.
Back to my increasing girth… probably because, now I am mostly sitting and writing, or sitting and thinking about writing… well… it seems I would have to work extra hard in 2015… but I am not complaining. :-)
Connect with the Author
Ruchi Singh is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/writer.ruchisingh
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RuchiWriter
Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+RuchiSinghWriter/about
Website: www.ruchisingh.in / www.ilvfiction.com
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
Short Story: Rebirth of the Ruler
I came across a news article on the internet that archeologists had discovered Egyptian tombs. I don't want to reveal too much, but you can find the information here. It inspired me to write this short story, which can be classified as paranormal and / or mystery.
Rebirth of the Ruler
Darkness came first.
All-engulfing, impenetrable, seemingly endless, utterly familiar darkness.
Next came sound, or rather a noise so insistent and harsh and loud that he wanted to press his ears closed with his hands.
Only he couldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure he had ears and hands…yet.
So he did what he had always been best at. He endured, trusting in his ability to withstand whatever was thrown his way, knowing that he always came away as the winner. What challenge was noise to him who had lived when others would have died?
The noise went on and on, growing louder but strangely at the same time more bearable. With it came light, in a sudden explosion of yellowness that would have blinded him had he possessed real eyes.
As if the brightly burning light had reawakened a slumbering ability in him, he could finally distinguish between all the sounds, and the crazy cacophony of noise reassembled itself to make more sense. He could hear hammering and shuffling, stones being removed, sand being shoveled away. And oh, the voices. So many voices, speaking in tongues he couldn’t identify and didn’t yet want to understand.
They drew nearer, and just when he thought he should open his non-existent eyes, words turned to whispers and shouts. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t make sense of whatever the people so precariously close to his hide-out were talking about. Their excitement was palpable, and it fuelled the fire inside him that had been reduced to glowing embers and smoking ashes for so long.
One word filtered through the noise and traveled straight to his heart. Again and again he heard it, and he delighted in it, anchored himself to it, clothed himself in the three syllables that gave him substance.
Osiris.
Spoken with the hushed reverence that befitted the word, it pierced his soul and infused his mind with the strength he’d need soon.
Again and again they chanted his name, as if they knew he was here, as if they wanted to summon him.
And he realized the time was right to rise again.
As he became more conscious of himself and the world around him, minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days.
Osiris, God of the Dead, Ruler of the Afterlife and the Underworld, father of Horus, husband of Isis, King of the Kings. He gave the spark of life inside him time to shoot flames and add to the artificial light reaching his secret chambers now. He vowed to shine brighter and brighter until the sun would have no choice but to acknowledge him again when he rose to rule.
Oh, but how long he had slept. How much had changed. He used his substance-less body to float around and let his gaze roam. Nobody noticed him when he rose from his hide-out in a debris-cluttered corner of the funerary complex toward the staircase and up. He traveled around in the main room of the tomb. The hall with its five pillars looked much like he remembered it from those days, when he had laid himself to sleep. Time had been kind to his resting place—and it had been kind to him, as he had never doubted it, for he could already feel himself getting stronger. He gazed at the huge painting of himself, sitting on the throne with his dark green skin and his white crown with its two curling ostrich feathers. A smile stretched the features of his spirit form, and he moved on with a renewed sense of purpose.
After drifting through the hall and amusing himself with brushing his non-existent hands over the rough stone walls and the dusty floor, he traveled to the adjoining chamber. There he admired the colorful murals of knife-wielding demons, still so vivid although he was sure centuries had gone by since they had painstakingly been painted. He pressed his palms against their hideous bodies, feeling not fear but a quiet sense of satisfaction.
How would the people running helter-skelter inside the tomb react if he called his demon guardians to life? A few well-remembered words, three smithereens of blood, and he could call them back into existence.
But no, now was not the time. No harm would befall those who had reawakened him until he had a better understanding of them and the world.
Oh, he knew well how misunderstood he had always been and would always be. Some saw only the horror and terror in Osiris, others believed him to be the benevolent and beneficial ruler instead. But only he knew that he was neither, or a little of both.
And he longed to be among the living again, although his place was to be with the dead.
He had patience, oh yes, boundless amounts of it that had helped him through many a rebirth. And so he waited. And he listened. And he learned. Sending out his mind-reading gift and easily adjusting to the very strange and intriguingly complex languages that were spoken around him, he familiarized himself with the current times. Some words held meaning, others none at all.
Abu-Sir, the place of the tomb, close to Cairo. Archeologists. Italy, Spain, England, Egypt, America. Inscriptions and hieroglyphs. Artefacts and mummies. Pyramids. Vessels, buried utensils of copper and limestone. Investigations.
And always his name, Osiris. He much preferred being called Asar, and he hated being called Usir, but Osiris seemed to be linked to the legacy he had left behind.
Finally, one full moon night, he knew he was ready, and the world was ready for him.
Footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent tomb, and he smiled. He knew who it was, not just because he recognized the footsteps but because he had sent the silent call out to his nightly visitor, choosing with care.
From where he was hiding in a corner of his chamber, he watched her approach, the dainty woman who was the Chosen One this time.
She was painfully slim and short, in fact more than a head shorter than everyone else on the team, but what she lacked in height she made up for in courage, determination and confidence. He could sense a quiet strength inside her that called out to him and pleased him. And the man in him appreciated her odd but appealing appearance. Her dark brown hair had a reddish glow to it in the light of the torch she carried, and it fell in loose, curvy lushness down her back. She was dressed like the men she mingled with, which surprised him pleasantly. Was she a woman who knew what she wanted?
Come. Listen. See. Feel. Understand.
Osiris sent out his silent call again, enticing her closer. He had singled her out because she was a woman, but there was much more to it than the obvious. She was more receptive to the vibes he radiated than the others of the group. Whenever he glided invisibly among them to learn, she tensed and grew alert, her big, dark eyes darting everywhere as if she were searching for the source of energy and the shift in the atmosphere that nobody else noticed.
María from Spain. Her name and her origin, or so he had gleaned from the thoughts he had picked up.
Come to me, María, he called out silently, automatically picking the right words, taking care to send positive vibes out towards her, making her feel safe although he could sense her anxiety. Or was it anticipation?
When she entered his chamber and lifted the torch, he felt the flames of life inside him leap and dance. The light framed her beautiful, if a little too angular face, her eyes even larger and darker than usual. She knew something special was about to happen, or at least she suspected it. He could read it in her thoughts, he could smell her mixed emotions like a delicious fragrance, a secret scent meant only for him. She was astonishingly fearless, this mortal of the modern times.
Do you know who I am? he asked silently.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he could see that she was breathing fast and hard, even though her body stood firm and tall and she didn’t permit her hands to tremble.
“Yes,” she spoke, and her voice came out as a reverent whisper that he appreciated.
Oh yes, he had chosen well. Luck was with him, as it had been time and time again.
Say it. Say my name.
“Osiris, son of the sky goddess Nut and the earth god Geb, brother of Set.”
He smiled, and she must have sensed his pleasure because an uncertain but enchanting smile flickered across her face too before she grew serious again.
Do you fear me?
The woman shook her head, and he knew she spoke the truth. For a moment he allowed himself to wonder what age this was that made it possible for women to be so fearless and to work alongside men who were of some importance or other. Did they have queens now? Was she somebody others would look up to and obey? Or was it about her and not women in general? Had she lived through something that made her bold but not brash, sensitive but also sensible?
There was no time for rambling thoughts.
Osiris moved from his place in the corner, slowly, making sure that the myriad dust particles he had so carefully gathered were sticking to his essence and forming the rough shape of a tall, male body. When he stepped from the dark into the circle of torchlight, the woman gasped and wavered for a moment. Still, he sensed no fear.
Now came the difficult part.
He searched for the right words, coming closer until he was close enough to touch her. He reached out an arm and laid his right hand on her head, which barely reached his chest. How small she seemed. How big she was on the inside.
María the fearless one, would you like to be a king’s most precious belonging? Would you like to help someone who has once helped millions? Would you like to experience what only a chosen few will ever be blessed with?
The short silence rang loudly, and he could hear her heart beat frantically.
“Yes. Yes to all of it,” came her whisper.
Osiris moved his hand from her head to her face, knowing she could sense some kind of touch although he hadn’t materialized yet. He caressed her cheek and felt her lean into the touch. Blessed be his powers of convincing people to do what he wanted. He was amazed every time how willingly people let him spellbind them. Still, this woman with the spark in her night-black eyes didn’t look as guileless and powerless and will-less than the previous ones.
Interesting. Very interesting. The thrill of new discoveries and challenges surged through him, and he brushed his ghostly fingers over her half-parted lips.
María, cariño, sol de mi vida, he whispered, lapsing into the language that was inside her head although she had spoken the different, common one so far. Darling, sun of my life, will you do as I tell you?
He saw her shiver, then nod silently. Stepping closer, he shook himself to discard the dust he had used to form an almost human shape. He was now only his spirit form, barely visible apart from a slight shimmering haze in the light of her torch, like smoke carried away on a breeze. But he knew she could feel his touch when he moved his hand to her neck and further down, caressing the bare, sun-kissed skin her open shirt collar revealed so tantalizingly.
He bent down and spoke into her ear.
Mi preciosa, mi corazon, mi reina. My precious, my heart, my queen. Ayúdame, help me. I will reward you beyond what you could ever imagine. I’ll make you mine, and I’ll be yours.
“Sí. Mi amor. Yes, my love,” she whispered, and her shiver went through him too.
Osiris pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another to her cheek. He nuzzled her neck, feeling her pulse hammer beneath her oh so soft skin.
Mi vida, my life, he murmured, and then he captured her lips in a kiss he could feel just as much as she could.
When she opened up to him willingly—even kissing him back with an abandon he hadn’t planned, as if she were the one wanting something from him and not the other way round—he knew his time had come.
He used his mysterious powers to seek out the spark inside her that made her live, and he latched onto it, feeding his flames. His eyes closed, his senses flooded with the essence of her, he drank from her fountain of life like a thirsty traveler in the desert.
He drank and drank as if he were breathing in her soul, and he felt the woman sigh and swoon and grow limp when he encircled her in an intimate, inescapable embrace.
With every passing second, he could feel his strength growing and his life returning. But he was also inundated with her life, drowning in it, drifting helplessly. So many images flashing one after the other or flickering all at once, each and every one of them confusing.
Such intense colors, such strange countries and vast cities with wondrous buildings, people moving around in vehicles he could never have thought of, dressing in unimaginable ways. But it wasn’t just the sensory overload and the torrent of novelties that shocked him. It was also the intimacy of the moment, and how special this woman was. He had chosen her wisely, for she was like no one he had ever known during his centuries of reincarnation and reign.
He watched her grow from infant to child, from girl to woman, entranced as if she were weaving some female magic to ensnare him although he literally held her life clenched in his fist.
One scene kept recurring, driving him insane with its tempting imagery and with the dangerous emotional mix if stirred up.
María, a little younger than she was now, was standing alone in a field of high, greener than green grass growing up to her knees. There were strikingly red flowers with a black heart all around her and in her hair. She was wearing a loose white dress barely covering her thighs, and her brownish-reddish-blackish hair was waist-long. She lifted her arms and started spinning in a frenzied sort of dance, her hair fanning out around herself, the dress billowing and revealing even more of her fair legs. Throwing her head back, she laughed.
What did it mean? Why was she laughing? What was she doing? Was this a message her dying self had sent to him?
He had called her his queen to lure her, to take her life and move on, to fulfil his mission. Yet now he realized he wanted to keep her. She would be part of his future, he’d see to it.
With inhumane effort he tore himself away from her, breaking the kiss and the bond that had her essence flow into him. Every particle inside him screamed to latch onto her again, to have more, more, more, but he forced himself to let her go. Held up only by one of his strong arms, she was hardly more than a lifeless shell, but she wasn’t dead.
With a muttered curse, Osiris leaned over her and kissed her again. This time, strength flowed from his body into hers. It caused him pain to let go of even a little of the vital energy, yet more than anybody else, he knew about pain and how to handle it. He knew about sacrifices. If you were sealed in a box and left to die only to have yourself revived for a spell and die again, if you were chopped into 14 pieces only to be resurrected, you learned a lot about who and what mattered.
He smiled to himself, remembering his clever ruse that had turned him immortal, and then he broke the kiss and stared María, who was now his woman. She looked like in peaceful sleep, and he brushed his lips across her closed eyelids.
Sleep, my queen, for you need to rise in all your glory and might when your king calls you to his side.
He glanced at his limbs which were growing more solid with each of the conscious breaths he now took, and his smile widened. The woman could wait, his mission couldn’t.
His supernatural strength regained, he lifted María and carried her up the stairs and through the hall towards the exit of the tomb. A murmured word in the ancient tongue assured that they were shielded from anyone who might cross their path.
Osiris walked into the cool night air, stared at the full moon for a long moment, and then straightened up proudly. He laid the woman down on the sandy ground softly, ripped a little of her modern garment off and wound the strange cloth around his hips to hide his nakedness. With the majestic gait of a powerful prowling wild cat, he walked over to where he could hear a silent call beckoning him.
There was another tomb in the necropolis, different from his, and fit for royalty. He sent his mind-reading gift out and raised his eyebrows at the response he got.
Queen Khentakawess III, wife to Pharaoh Neferefre, from the Fifth Dynasty.
He had never particularly liked her husband or her son, but he hadn’t always been blessed with perfect candidates for his experiments. Rulers were rulers, and he was the one who ruled them all. With grim determination, Osiris wound his way into the tomb where the other undead ancient’s spirit was begging to be released.
It was time to see how this particular experiment had worked out, and how he could benefit from it.
THE END
Rebirth of the RulerDarkness came first.
All-engulfing, impenetrable, seemingly endless, utterly familiar darkness.
Next came sound, or rather a noise so insistent and harsh and loud that he wanted to press his ears closed with his hands.
Only he couldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure he had ears and hands…yet.
So he did what he had always been best at. He endured, trusting in his ability to withstand whatever was thrown his way, knowing that he always came away as the winner. What challenge was noise to him who had lived when others would have died?
The noise went on and on, growing louder but strangely at the same time more bearable. With it came light, in a sudden explosion of yellowness that would have blinded him had he possessed real eyes.
As if the brightly burning light had reawakened a slumbering ability in him, he could finally distinguish between all the sounds, and the crazy cacophony of noise reassembled itself to make more sense. He could hear hammering and shuffling, stones being removed, sand being shoveled away. And oh, the voices. So many voices, speaking in tongues he couldn’t identify and didn’t yet want to understand.
They drew nearer, and just when he thought he should open his non-existent eyes, words turned to whispers and shouts. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t make sense of whatever the people so precariously close to his hide-out were talking about. Their excitement was palpable, and it fuelled the fire inside him that had been reduced to glowing embers and smoking ashes for so long.
One word filtered through the noise and traveled straight to his heart. Again and again he heard it, and he delighted in it, anchored himself to it, clothed himself in the three syllables that gave him substance.
Osiris.
Spoken with the hushed reverence that befitted the word, it pierced his soul and infused his mind with the strength he’d need soon.
Again and again they chanted his name, as if they knew he was here, as if they wanted to summon him.
And he realized the time was right to rise again.
As he became more conscious of himself and the world around him, minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days.
Osiris, God of the Dead, Ruler of the Afterlife and the Underworld, father of Horus, husband of Isis, King of the Kings. He gave the spark of life inside him time to shoot flames and add to the artificial light reaching his secret chambers now. He vowed to shine brighter and brighter until the sun would have no choice but to acknowledge him again when he rose to rule.
Oh, but how long he had slept. How much had changed. He used his substance-less body to float around and let his gaze roam. Nobody noticed him when he rose from his hide-out in a debris-cluttered corner of the funerary complex toward the staircase and up. He traveled around in the main room of the tomb. The hall with its five pillars looked much like he remembered it from those days, when he had laid himself to sleep. Time had been kind to his resting place—and it had been kind to him, as he had never doubted it, for he could already feel himself getting stronger. He gazed at the huge painting of himself, sitting on the throne with his dark green skin and his white crown with its two curling ostrich feathers. A smile stretched the features of his spirit form, and he moved on with a renewed sense of purpose.
After drifting through the hall and amusing himself with brushing his non-existent hands over the rough stone walls and the dusty floor, he traveled to the adjoining chamber. There he admired the colorful murals of knife-wielding demons, still so vivid although he was sure centuries had gone by since they had painstakingly been painted. He pressed his palms against their hideous bodies, feeling not fear but a quiet sense of satisfaction.
How would the people running helter-skelter inside the tomb react if he called his demon guardians to life? A few well-remembered words, three smithereens of blood, and he could call them back into existence.
But no, now was not the time. No harm would befall those who had reawakened him until he had a better understanding of them and the world.
Oh, he knew well how misunderstood he had always been and would always be. Some saw only the horror and terror in Osiris, others believed him to be the benevolent and beneficial ruler instead. But only he knew that he was neither, or a little of both.
And he longed to be among the living again, although his place was to be with the dead.
He had patience, oh yes, boundless amounts of it that had helped him through many a rebirth. And so he waited. And he listened. And he learned. Sending out his mind-reading gift and easily adjusting to the very strange and intriguingly complex languages that were spoken around him, he familiarized himself with the current times. Some words held meaning, others none at all.
Abu-Sir, the place of the tomb, close to Cairo. Archeologists. Italy, Spain, England, Egypt, America. Inscriptions and hieroglyphs. Artefacts and mummies. Pyramids. Vessels, buried utensils of copper and limestone. Investigations.
And always his name, Osiris. He much preferred being called Asar, and he hated being called Usir, but Osiris seemed to be linked to the legacy he had left behind.
Finally, one full moon night, he knew he was ready, and the world was ready for him.
Footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent tomb, and he smiled. He knew who it was, not just because he recognized the footsteps but because he had sent the silent call out to his nightly visitor, choosing with care.
From where he was hiding in a corner of his chamber, he watched her approach, the dainty woman who was the Chosen One this time.
She was painfully slim and short, in fact more than a head shorter than everyone else on the team, but what she lacked in height she made up for in courage, determination and confidence. He could sense a quiet strength inside her that called out to him and pleased him. And the man in him appreciated her odd but appealing appearance. Her dark brown hair had a reddish glow to it in the light of the torch she carried, and it fell in loose, curvy lushness down her back. She was dressed like the men she mingled with, which surprised him pleasantly. Was she a woman who knew what she wanted?
Come. Listen. See. Feel. Understand.
Osiris sent out his silent call again, enticing her closer. He had singled her out because she was a woman, but there was much more to it than the obvious. She was more receptive to the vibes he radiated than the others of the group. Whenever he glided invisibly among them to learn, she tensed and grew alert, her big, dark eyes darting everywhere as if she were searching for the source of energy and the shift in the atmosphere that nobody else noticed.
María from Spain. Her name and her origin, or so he had gleaned from the thoughts he had picked up.
Come to me, María, he called out silently, automatically picking the right words, taking care to send positive vibes out towards her, making her feel safe although he could sense her anxiety. Or was it anticipation?
When she entered his chamber and lifted the torch, he felt the flames of life inside him leap and dance. The light framed her beautiful, if a little too angular face, her eyes even larger and darker than usual. She knew something special was about to happen, or at least she suspected it. He could read it in her thoughts, he could smell her mixed emotions like a delicious fragrance, a secret scent meant only for him. She was astonishingly fearless, this mortal of the modern times.
Do you know who I am? he asked silently.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he could see that she was breathing fast and hard, even though her body stood firm and tall and she didn’t permit her hands to tremble.
“Yes,” she spoke, and her voice came out as a reverent whisper that he appreciated.
Oh yes, he had chosen well. Luck was with him, as it had been time and time again.
Say it. Say my name.
“Osiris, son of the sky goddess Nut and the earth god Geb, brother of Set.”
He smiled, and she must have sensed his pleasure because an uncertain but enchanting smile flickered across her face too before she grew serious again.
Do you fear me?
The woman shook her head, and he knew she spoke the truth. For a moment he allowed himself to wonder what age this was that made it possible for women to be so fearless and to work alongside men who were of some importance or other. Did they have queens now? Was she somebody others would look up to and obey? Or was it about her and not women in general? Had she lived through something that made her bold but not brash, sensitive but also sensible?
There was no time for rambling thoughts.
Osiris moved from his place in the corner, slowly, making sure that the myriad dust particles he had so carefully gathered were sticking to his essence and forming the rough shape of a tall, male body. When he stepped from the dark into the circle of torchlight, the woman gasped and wavered for a moment. Still, he sensed no fear.
Now came the difficult part.
He searched for the right words, coming closer until he was close enough to touch her. He reached out an arm and laid his right hand on her head, which barely reached his chest. How small she seemed. How big she was on the inside.
María the fearless one, would you like to be a king’s most precious belonging? Would you like to help someone who has once helped millions? Would you like to experience what only a chosen few will ever be blessed with?
The short silence rang loudly, and he could hear her heart beat frantically.
“Yes. Yes to all of it,” came her whisper.
Osiris moved his hand from her head to her face, knowing she could sense some kind of touch although he hadn’t materialized yet. He caressed her cheek and felt her lean into the touch. Blessed be his powers of convincing people to do what he wanted. He was amazed every time how willingly people let him spellbind them. Still, this woman with the spark in her night-black eyes didn’t look as guileless and powerless and will-less than the previous ones.
Interesting. Very interesting. The thrill of new discoveries and challenges surged through him, and he brushed his ghostly fingers over her half-parted lips.
María, cariño, sol de mi vida, he whispered, lapsing into the language that was inside her head although she had spoken the different, common one so far. Darling, sun of my life, will you do as I tell you?
He saw her shiver, then nod silently. Stepping closer, he shook himself to discard the dust he had used to form an almost human shape. He was now only his spirit form, barely visible apart from a slight shimmering haze in the light of her torch, like smoke carried away on a breeze. But he knew she could feel his touch when he moved his hand to her neck and further down, caressing the bare, sun-kissed skin her open shirt collar revealed so tantalizingly.
He bent down and spoke into her ear.
Mi preciosa, mi corazon, mi reina. My precious, my heart, my queen. Ayúdame, help me. I will reward you beyond what you could ever imagine. I’ll make you mine, and I’ll be yours.
“Sí. Mi amor. Yes, my love,” she whispered, and her shiver went through him too.
Osiris pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another to her cheek. He nuzzled her neck, feeling her pulse hammer beneath her oh so soft skin.
Mi vida, my life, he murmured, and then he captured her lips in a kiss he could feel just as much as she could.
When she opened up to him willingly—even kissing him back with an abandon he hadn’t planned, as if she were the one wanting something from him and not the other way round—he knew his time had come.
He used his mysterious powers to seek out the spark inside her that made her live, and he latched onto it, feeding his flames. His eyes closed, his senses flooded with the essence of her, he drank from her fountain of life like a thirsty traveler in the desert.
He drank and drank as if he were breathing in her soul, and he felt the woman sigh and swoon and grow limp when he encircled her in an intimate, inescapable embrace.
With every passing second, he could feel his strength growing and his life returning. But he was also inundated with her life, drowning in it, drifting helplessly. So many images flashing one after the other or flickering all at once, each and every one of them confusing.
Such intense colors, such strange countries and vast cities with wondrous buildings, people moving around in vehicles he could never have thought of, dressing in unimaginable ways. But it wasn’t just the sensory overload and the torrent of novelties that shocked him. It was also the intimacy of the moment, and how special this woman was. He had chosen her wisely, for she was like no one he had ever known during his centuries of reincarnation and reign.
He watched her grow from infant to child, from girl to woman, entranced as if she were weaving some female magic to ensnare him although he literally held her life clenched in his fist.
One scene kept recurring, driving him insane with its tempting imagery and with the dangerous emotional mix if stirred up.
María, a little younger than she was now, was standing alone in a field of high, greener than green grass growing up to her knees. There were strikingly red flowers with a black heart all around her and in her hair. She was wearing a loose white dress barely covering her thighs, and her brownish-reddish-blackish hair was waist-long. She lifted her arms and started spinning in a frenzied sort of dance, her hair fanning out around herself, the dress billowing and revealing even more of her fair legs. Throwing her head back, she laughed.
What did it mean? Why was she laughing? What was she doing? Was this a message her dying self had sent to him?
He had called her his queen to lure her, to take her life and move on, to fulfil his mission. Yet now he realized he wanted to keep her. She would be part of his future, he’d see to it.
With inhumane effort he tore himself away from her, breaking the kiss and the bond that had her essence flow into him. Every particle inside him screamed to latch onto her again, to have more, more, more, but he forced himself to let her go. Held up only by one of his strong arms, she was hardly more than a lifeless shell, but she wasn’t dead.
With a muttered curse, Osiris leaned over her and kissed her again. This time, strength flowed from his body into hers. It caused him pain to let go of even a little of the vital energy, yet more than anybody else, he knew about pain and how to handle it. He knew about sacrifices. If you were sealed in a box and left to die only to have yourself revived for a spell and die again, if you were chopped into 14 pieces only to be resurrected, you learned a lot about who and what mattered.
He smiled to himself, remembering his clever ruse that had turned him immortal, and then he broke the kiss and stared María, who was now his woman. She looked like in peaceful sleep, and he brushed his lips across her closed eyelids.
Sleep, my queen, for you need to rise in all your glory and might when your king calls you to his side.
He glanced at his limbs which were growing more solid with each of the conscious breaths he now took, and his smile widened. The woman could wait, his mission couldn’t.
His supernatural strength regained, he lifted María and carried her up the stairs and through the hall towards the exit of the tomb. A murmured word in the ancient tongue assured that they were shielded from anyone who might cross their path.
Osiris walked into the cool night air, stared at the full moon for a long moment, and then straightened up proudly. He laid the woman down on the sandy ground softly, ripped a little of her modern garment off and wound the strange cloth around his hips to hide his nakedness. With the majestic gait of a powerful prowling wild cat, he walked over to where he could hear a silent call beckoning him.
There was another tomb in the necropolis, different from his, and fit for royalty. He sent his mind-reading gift out and raised his eyebrows at the response he got.
Queen Khentakawess III, wife to Pharaoh Neferefre, from the Fifth Dynasty.
He had never particularly liked her husband or her son, but he hadn’t always been blessed with perfect candidates for his experiments. Rulers were rulers, and he was the one who ruled them all. With grim determination, Osiris wound his way into the tomb where the other undead ancient’s spirit was begging to be released.
It was time to see how this particular experiment had worked out, and how he could benefit from it.
THE END
January 5, 2015
Featured - Someone Like Her by Sandra Owens
Someone Like Her by Sandra Owens Series: K2 Team, #2 Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense Release Date: January 6, 2015
Known to the K2 Special Services team as Romeo, ex-Navy SEAL Jake Buchanan has yet to meet a woman he didn't like. There is one though who sets his heart to racing in a way the others don't. She is off-limits, however, and his boss—her brother—has made that crystal clear.
Troubled by a childhood that still haunts her, Maria Kincaid goes searching for a father she's never met—and stumbles into a nightmarish experience. With her life in grave danger, she reaches out to Jake.
Jake, a man who believes he isn't capable of committing to one woman, knows he should stay as far away from Maria as possible. She's in trouble though and he'll just lend a hand, then return to his life as Romeo.
As Jake soon learns, some things are easier said than done.
Middle-of-the-night phone calls weren't unusual. Long accustomed to awakening at odd hours to all sorts of noises, Jake alertly reached for the receiver at the same time he eyed the clock. Had the operation gone wrong?
“Buchanan here.”
“Jake?”
Maria’s voice was the last one he expected. Just hearing it sent his heart into overdrive. He sat up, as if by doing so he could get closer to her. “What’s wrong?”
She laughed. “Why do you immediately assume something’s wrong?”
One hundred and ninety-three miles between them did nothing to conceal the brittle note of her laughter. “It’s two in the morning for one thing. You should be sleeping. Don’t you have an early class?”
Silence.
“Dammit, talk to me.”
“I’m in trouble, Jake.” Her voice cracked on his name.
For her, he would step in front of a bullet, but she wasn't his to protect. She was so far off limits he might as well be wanting the moon.
He forced the words through his teeth that had to be said. “Then you should be calling your brother, not me.”
“I . . . I can’t talk to Logan right now. I just can’t. Please, you have to come.” The words were punctuated by a sob.
Jackson Kennedy Buchanan, in an attempt to be as honorable as his namesakes, opened his mouth to say no, not happening. “Are you home?” He pulled the phone from his ear and glared as if it were responsible for the decidedly inadvisable question. She’d probably had a fight with a boyfriend and needed a shoulder to cry on.
Maria Kincaid—top-of-her-class law student and weeks from graduating—didn't get in trouble. Maria Kincaid, the woman her brother had put off limits by threat of death. The boss didn't want his sister anywhere near a man known as Romeo to his SEAL buddies.
Amazon US ~ Amazon UK ~ Amazon CA ~ Amazon AU Barnes & Noble Book 1: Crazy For Her
Amazon US ~ Amazon UK ~ Amazon CA ~ Amazon AU Barnes & Noble 
A native of Florida, Sandra once managed a Harley-Davidson dealership, before switching from a bike to an RV for roaming the open road (though she’s also chased thrills from sky-diving to upside-down stunt-plane flying). In addition to CRAZY FOR HER—a 2013 Golden Heart® Finalist for Romantic Suspense—and SOMEONE LIKE HER, her works include the Regency romance novels THE LETTER, winner of the Golden Quill Award, and THE TRAINING OF A MARQUESS, winner of the Golden Claddagh Award. A member of Romance Writers of America, she lives with her husband in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. She claims the only thing missing in her life is a cat to curl up on her lap while she writes.
Amazon ~ Goodreads ~ Website ~ Newsletter 
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January 3, 2015
Cover Reveal: Saved in Sri Lanka
For the first #SneakPeekSunday of the year 2015, I've planned something special: Here's the cover for my upcoming contemporary romance novel "Saved in Sri Lanka", Romance Round the World, Book 1.
I'm also sharing the blurb, and you can find excerpts and teasers from the book on my Facebook page as well as here.
I am currently on my first round of edits. The eBook will probably be released in February.
Some people are destined to meet.
It sure feels that way when Sri Lankan tour guide Sepalika meets Daniel. The mysterious tourist from Ireland steals his way into her heart and makes her question everything her life is built upon. Instant attraction turns to love – but does he feel the same? And what about the secret she’s hiding from him?
Follow the two on their quest for a happy ending amid the beauty and wonders of the tropical island paradise of Sri Lanka.
I'm also sharing the blurb, and you can find excerpts and teasers from the book on my Facebook page as well as here.
I am currently on my first round of edits. The eBook will probably be released in February.
Some people are destined to meet.
It sure feels that way when Sri Lankan tour guide Sepalika meets Daniel. The mysterious tourist from Ireland steals his way into her heart and makes her question everything her life is built upon. Instant attraction turns to love – but does he feel the same? And what about the secret she’s hiding from him?
Follow the two on their quest for a happy ending amid the beauty and wonders of the tropical island paradise of Sri Lanka.
January 1, 2015
Flashback: 2014 for Authors & Writers - Inderpreet Kaur Uppal (Guest Post)
2014 is over - but that certainly doesn't mean that we should forget about it. On the contrary, a look back will help us tackle 2015. On this note, I'm happy to share another flashback post by a friend of mine, a talented blogger as well as a treasured reviewer. This is the 4th post in the series. For Guest Post 3 by Summerita Rhayne, click here.
My 2014 - Inderpreet Kaur Uppal
Anything is possible, if only you believe.
Reflecting and reminiscing about the year gone; peeping into the highs & lows. Trying to learn and grow. The past year has been very different in so many ways & similar too. Devika urged us to write a reflection post for her and I wondered how would I fit into the glittering line up of authors gracing her blog with their stellar posts and ready wit and heady romance?
As I gathered my courage to look back, to remember and to reflect and to look ahead realising that my writing to had improved, my horizons limitless as I was too learning and growing with the stellar company I kept.
The year has moved on and what a year it has been. I rubbed shoulders with star bloggers, gifted writers and ace authors! This was the year I took the plunge for serious blogging, joining in and seeing most of it through to the end. When I began serious blogging I had never thought I would be interacting with celebrities! Neither had I thought that they would be motivating me to do my best and try to do better.
I dabbled in a few different areas within blogging. I tried my hand at fiction, personal experiences, poetry, stories, articles, book reviews and even blog challenges! What a thrill it was; undertaking a challenge and seeing it through. Praise and support form accomplished authors & world-class bloggers; reading their words has me motivated me to expect more from my writing, I am not an author but all this writing has me dreaming that maybe I will. Never say never!!
I learnt to channel my love of books and became a serious book reviewer and yet I am still struggling to find the perfect balance to help me read all the books I have with me. Even my most favourite author has been languishing on the book shelf waiting for his turn! Tsk, tsk!
Striking a balance with my writing, reading and family has been tough but I learnt to balance and to share. I might want to read the whole day but I know now that writing is equally important, feedback is the nectar that nurtures more writing – from me and my favourite authors.
What I take from this past year is to never be afraid, ask questions and to follow my heart. Just to keep writing and love what I am doing. Hope to see a lot more of you at Eloquent Articulation !
I wish you all a year filled with dreams, hopes, confidence, support and success with sparkle and shine.
Thanks Devika, it was a pleasure to reflect and see how far I have come.
Hugs and cheers!
Happy New Year!!
Image courtesy Pixabay.
Connect with the Writer
Inderpreet Kaur Uppal is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/indywrites
Blog: http://inderpreetkaur.blogspot.com/
Twitter: @indywrites
Google+: https://plus.google.com/+InderpreetKaurUppal/posts
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
My 2014 - Inderpreet Kaur UppalAnything is possible, if only you believe.
Reflecting and reminiscing about the year gone; peeping into the highs & lows. Trying to learn and grow. The past year has been very different in so many ways & similar too. Devika urged us to write a reflection post for her and I wondered how would I fit into the glittering line up of authors gracing her blog with their stellar posts and ready wit and heady romance?
As I gathered my courage to look back, to remember and to reflect and to look ahead realising that my writing to had improved, my horizons limitless as I was too learning and growing with the stellar company I kept.
The year has moved on and what a year it has been. I rubbed shoulders with star bloggers, gifted writers and ace authors! This was the year I took the plunge for serious blogging, joining in and seeing most of it through to the end. When I began serious blogging I had never thought I would be interacting with celebrities! Neither had I thought that they would be motivating me to do my best and try to do better.
I dabbled in a few different areas within blogging. I tried my hand at fiction, personal experiences, poetry, stories, articles, book reviews and even blog challenges! What a thrill it was; undertaking a challenge and seeing it through. Praise and support form accomplished authors & world-class bloggers; reading their words has me motivated me to expect more from my writing, I am not an author but all this writing has me dreaming that maybe I will. Never say never!!
I learnt to channel my love of books and became a serious book reviewer and yet I am still struggling to find the perfect balance to help me read all the books I have with me. Even my most favourite author has been languishing on the book shelf waiting for his turn! Tsk, tsk!
Striking a balance with my writing, reading and family has been tough but I learnt to balance and to share. I might want to read the whole day but I know now that writing is equally important, feedback is the nectar that nurtures more writing – from me and my favourite authors.
What I take from this past year is to never be afraid, ask questions and to follow my heart. Just to keep writing and love what I am doing. Hope to see a lot more of you at Eloquent Articulation !
I wish you all a year filled with dreams, hopes, confidence, support and success with sparkle and shine.
Thanks Devika, it was a pleasure to reflect and see how far I have come.
Hugs and cheers!
Happy New Year!!
Image courtesy Pixabay.
Connect with the Writer
Inderpreet Kaur Uppal is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/indywrites
Blog: http://inderpreetkaur.blogspot.com/
Twitter: @indywrites
Google+: https://plus.google.com/+InderpreetKaurUppal/posts
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
December 31, 2014
Flashback: 2014 for Authors - Summerita Rhayne (Guest Post)
I'm excited to share another guest post casting a look back at 2014 for one of my amazing author friends. This is the 3rd post of this feature series. You can read Guest Post 2 by Saurabh Garg here.
My 2014 - Summerita Rhayne
Many thanks Devika for inviting me to share my thoughts about 2014.
As I sit writing this post it’s 31st December on the calendar. And what pops into my mind is: Poor 2014! Or for that matter, any old year. We're so busy ushering in the New one, we forget to say goodbye to the Old one properly. From mid December, ‘Happy New Year’ starts coming easily from everyone’s mouth. But the year gone by, the mistakes we made… we prefer to forget it all. Maybe there are some lessons hidden in there, something to be learnt from how we have been, which can make 2015 more golden?
This is why a reflection post like this one is so opportune, a way of paying homage to The Gone Year, excuse the pun :)
For me, the year 2014 brought several changes. My kids went on to higher classes which meant they became busier in studies. With the pressure of competitive exams, finding outdoor time has become problematic for them these days. Enrolling them in some activities seemed to be a good solution. It started with tennis but didn’t work out so now child no. 2 is trying out dance and finding it better fun. We missed on summer vacation. A family wedding and all the 'big fat wedding' factor involved did make up a bit. You could say, staying up all night and feeling like a zombie the next day is definitely a change from routine! We had a healthy discussion at my workplace whether Hindu weddings ought to be shifted to daytime. I'm afraid I'm rather old fashioned in this and despite the discomfort, prefer the romantic aura of midnight weddings! :)
Before this turns into a rambling post, I must share an exciting change that 2014 brought. This was my shift into self publishing. I've been published traditionally and loved it except for a few factors. By the way, the stint in self publishing has made me appreciate a lot what publishers do for authors. All one has to do in that case is writing the book and let them take over except where marketing is concerned. However, I have found I love self publishing even more. It gives you total control on the whole process – from writing to the moment the book is ready. I've learnt a LOT about that process. I share some of the rudiments here on how to publish on Amazon. Currently I'm putting out my book on Smashwords and looking into other sites. For someone who didn't even know Word properly, though I did a three month course on it – didn't practice much then – to have come to design my book cover and format the book for electronic and print, it is big step forward. I learnt more about readers’ engagement, about selling on Amazon... about not obsessively checking sale reports! ;) With my second book out, I'm making steady progress though and am hopeful. Every time a sale shows up on the graph, it makes my heart swell with pride because I have had such a big part in the creation of that work. Not all my doing of course, because it’s all thanks to the resources I had. But still, creativity in whatever form – that's what art is about.
This is definitely turning into a word sprawl of a post. I'm sure this isn't what Devika had in mind when she invited me to guest post. But I can't leave without sharing something of even more importance. So do stick around if you don't mind the buzz of words.
2014 also brought a change in my ‘life’ perspective. For the last few years, I have been very busy focusing on writing and 'making it'. I was postponing every less important thing and spending quality rather than quantity time with family. Some time this year, with the pressure of traditional publishing lessening from my shoulders, I found I became my own master. No deadlines. No rush. I was doing what I was for my own satisfaction, so anxiety was reduced. No tension of headlocks with editors - I haven't had any but sometimes it can factor in your dreams. What if your editor refused to go with the scene you simply must have in the book? Or if she didn't agree to keep the character in the book that you have hinged the story on? As I said, my editors were too sweet for words – it says much about them that I can say this behind their back –‘but you know how anxiety can distort things? Well, all that was gone. Last year, I had two books out. This year I maintained that. So even with slackening off and spending more time playing cards and scrabble with kids and gossiping with mom-in-law – well, not gossiping precisely, just sharing news of all and sundry....I was still able to work on my books. So, as I look back, I think – not bad! The family is happier having me back, metaphorically speaking. I have got rid of that 'I must do more' feeling I had about writing and begun to enjoy it more. The off side is I do tend to slacken more, so have to work on disciplining myself a bit. Anyone up for #writing sprints or one hour one thousand words? :)
So, this was the year for me, the important bits anyway. Before Devika decides to throw me out of her blog, I had better make a graceful, if hurried, exit!
*picks up her bag and walks. Turns back at the door*
Oh, and do share what important change 2014 made in your life. Or what change you mean to make in 2015?
Happy New Year!
*fireworks* *exploding chrysanthemums*
Connect with the Author
Summerita Rhayne is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/summerita.rhayne
Website: http://www.summeritarhayne.com
Twitter: @SummeritaRhayne
Buy Link for 'Against All Rules': http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MY2QVRS
Buy Link for 'Hidden Passion': http://www.amazon.com/Hidden-Passion-Kamboj-Princess-Rukmani-ebook/dp/B00RBUM0EG
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
My 2014 - Summerita RhayneMany thanks Devika for inviting me to share my thoughts about 2014.
As I sit writing this post it’s 31st December on the calendar. And what pops into my mind is: Poor 2014! Or for that matter, any old year. We're so busy ushering in the New one, we forget to say goodbye to the Old one properly. From mid December, ‘Happy New Year’ starts coming easily from everyone’s mouth. But the year gone by, the mistakes we made… we prefer to forget it all. Maybe there are some lessons hidden in there, something to be learnt from how we have been, which can make 2015 more golden?
This is why a reflection post like this one is so opportune, a way of paying homage to The Gone Year, excuse the pun :)
For me, the year 2014 brought several changes. My kids went on to higher classes which meant they became busier in studies. With the pressure of competitive exams, finding outdoor time has become problematic for them these days. Enrolling them in some activities seemed to be a good solution. It started with tennis but didn’t work out so now child no. 2 is trying out dance and finding it better fun. We missed on summer vacation. A family wedding and all the 'big fat wedding' factor involved did make up a bit. You could say, staying up all night and feeling like a zombie the next day is definitely a change from routine! We had a healthy discussion at my workplace whether Hindu weddings ought to be shifted to daytime. I'm afraid I'm rather old fashioned in this and despite the discomfort, prefer the romantic aura of midnight weddings! :)
Before this turns into a rambling post, I must share an exciting change that 2014 brought. This was my shift into self publishing. I've been published traditionally and loved it except for a few factors. By the way, the stint in self publishing has made me appreciate a lot what publishers do for authors. All one has to do in that case is writing the book and let them take over except where marketing is concerned. However, I have found I love self publishing even more. It gives you total control on the whole process – from writing to the moment the book is ready. I've learnt a LOT about that process. I share some of the rudiments here on how to publish on Amazon. Currently I'm putting out my book on Smashwords and looking into other sites. For someone who didn't even know Word properly, though I did a three month course on it – didn't practice much then – to have come to design my book cover and format the book for electronic and print, it is big step forward. I learnt more about readers’ engagement, about selling on Amazon... about not obsessively checking sale reports! ;) With my second book out, I'm making steady progress though and am hopeful. Every time a sale shows up on the graph, it makes my heart swell with pride because I have had such a big part in the creation of that work. Not all my doing of course, because it’s all thanks to the resources I had. But still, creativity in whatever form – that's what art is about.
This is definitely turning into a word sprawl of a post. I'm sure this isn't what Devika had in mind when she invited me to guest post. But I can't leave without sharing something of even more importance. So do stick around if you don't mind the buzz of words.
2014 also brought a change in my ‘life’ perspective. For the last few years, I have been very busy focusing on writing and 'making it'. I was postponing every less important thing and spending quality rather than quantity time with family. Some time this year, with the pressure of traditional publishing lessening from my shoulders, I found I became my own master. No deadlines. No rush. I was doing what I was for my own satisfaction, so anxiety was reduced. No tension of headlocks with editors - I haven't had any but sometimes it can factor in your dreams. What if your editor refused to go with the scene you simply must have in the book? Or if she didn't agree to keep the character in the book that you have hinged the story on? As I said, my editors were too sweet for words – it says much about them that I can say this behind their back –‘but you know how anxiety can distort things? Well, all that was gone. Last year, I had two books out. This year I maintained that. So even with slackening off and spending more time playing cards and scrabble with kids and gossiping with mom-in-law – well, not gossiping precisely, just sharing news of all and sundry....I was still able to work on my books. So, as I look back, I think – not bad! The family is happier having me back, metaphorically speaking. I have got rid of that 'I must do more' feeling I had about writing and begun to enjoy it more. The off side is I do tend to slacken more, so have to work on disciplining myself a bit. Anyone up for #writing sprints or one hour one thousand words? :)
So, this was the year for me, the important bits anyway. Before Devika decides to throw me out of her blog, I had better make a graceful, if hurried, exit!
*picks up her bag and walks. Turns back at the door*
Oh, and do share what important change 2014 made in your life. Or what change you mean to make in 2015?
Happy New Year!
*fireworks* *exploding chrysanthemums*
Connect with the Author
Summerita Rhayne is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/summerita.rhayne
Website: http://www.summeritarhayne.com
Twitter: @SummeritaRhayne
Buy Link for 'Against All Rules': http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MY2QVRS
Buy Link for 'Hidden Passion': http://www.amazon.com/Hidden-Passion-Kamboj-Princess-Rukmani-ebook/dp/B00RBUM0EG
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
December 29, 2014
Flashback: 2014 for Authors - Sundari Venkatraman (Guest Post)
This guest post is the start of a series of articles I'll be sharing. A few of my dear author friends have agreed to share their thoughts about what 2014 has brought them, and why it has changed their life in some way or the other. *drum roll*
My 2014 - Sundari Venkatraman
Thank you so much Devika Fernando for giving me an opportunity to share my success story with your readers.
The transformation of my life actually began on December 11, 2013.
I had attended a lecture by Dr. Sneh Desai, a guy in his late 20s or maybe early 30s (Arre, my daughter is as old as he is). He took a class on Bhagavat Gita on three consecutive mornings between 7-8 am. I go to sleep at 2 am or later in the night (or morning as you perceive it) and wake up earliest at around 9 am. I think my life was meant to be transformed. I attended Dr. Desai’s class on all three days and was never late.
Dr. Desai said:
“What is prayer? You stand before God and go on asking and asking and asking, like a beggar. Is that what prayer is? “The Divine knows what you require and He has already given it all to you. All you have to do is offer your gratitude.”
Well said! But how to cultivate this attitude of gratitude? He had an answer for that as well.
“We as people are neither negative nor positive. It is our attitude. That’s because we focus on a string of incidences that influences us. Create a diary where you make a note of every single thing that you can offer thanks to the Divine at the end of every day. What will happen over a period of time is that your focus will shift to all those good things that happen to you and your attitude changes to positive.”
And I began maintaining a Gratitude Journal beginning December 11, 2013. I have to mention here that I don’t offer any excuse. I work on writing this journal every night – whether I am home or out of town on a holiday in a hotel room; whether I have guests or whatever. They say that the brain catches our thoughts and transforms itself, in turn bringing about a change in world around us.
Writing words of thanks to The Almighty and to the people around me – day after day – changed my life forever. I, who had been chasing publishers from around the world for 13 years, decided to go the self-publishing way. Marketing help came in the form of Rubina Ramesh and The Book Club was formed. I am thrilled to say that the first book we promoted was mine.
I must say the whole Universe has since been conspiring to make my life easier and better. All because I decided to say “Thank You” for all that I already have. As the days pass, I realise that I do have PLENTY. 2014 has been a year of progress, by leaps and bounds. At the end of it, I can only say “Thank You” for the fantastic year that has been. I am sure 2015 will be even better as I have cultivated the attitude of gratitude – on a daily basis.
Wishing everyone a VERY HAPPY 2015! Connect with the Author Sundari Venkatraman is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/sundarivenkat
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sundari.venkatraman.5
FB page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSundariVenkatraman
FB page: https://www.facebook.com/FlamingSunPublishingFacilitator
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=20548388
Google: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+SundariVenkatraman/posts
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Sundari-Venkatraman/e/B00IBEUJV2
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
My 2014 - Sundari VenkatramanThank you so much Devika Fernando for giving me an opportunity to share my success story with your readers.
The transformation of my life actually began on December 11, 2013.
I had attended a lecture by Dr. Sneh Desai, a guy in his late 20s or maybe early 30s (Arre, my daughter is as old as he is). He took a class on Bhagavat Gita on three consecutive mornings between 7-8 am. I go to sleep at 2 am or later in the night (or morning as you perceive it) and wake up earliest at around 9 am. I think my life was meant to be transformed. I attended Dr. Desai’s class on all three days and was never late.
Dr. Desai said:
“What is prayer? You stand before God and go on asking and asking and asking, like a beggar. Is that what prayer is? “The Divine knows what you require and He has already given it all to you. All you have to do is offer your gratitude.”
Well said! But how to cultivate this attitude of gratitude? He had an answer for that as well.
“We as people are neither negative nor positive. It is our attitude. That’s because we focus on a string of incidences that influences us. Create a diary where you make a note of every single thing that you can offer thanks to the Divine at the end of every day. What will happen over a period of time is that your focus will shift to all those good things that happen to you and your attitude changes to positive.”
And I began maintaining a Gratitude Journal beginning December 11, 2013. I have to mention here that I don’t offer any excuse. I work on writing this journal every night – whether I am home or out of town on a holiday in a hotel room; whether I have guests or whatever. They say that the brain catches our thoughts and transforms itself, in turn bringing about a change in world around us.
Writing words of thanks to The Almighty and to the people around me – day after day – changed my life forever. I, who had been chasing publishers from around the world for 13 years, decided to go the self-publishing way. Marketing help came in the form of Rubina Ramesh and The Book Club was formed. I am thrilled to say that the first book we promoted was mine.
I must say the whole Universe has since been conspiring to make my life easier and better. All because I decided to say “Thank You” for all that I already have. As the days pass, I realise that I do have PLENTY. 2014 has been a year of progress, by leaps and bounds. At the end of it, I can only say “Thank You” for the fantastic year that has been. I am sure 2015 will be even better as I have cultivated the attitude of gratitude – on a daily basis.
Wishing everyone a VERY HAPPY 2015! Connect with the Author Sundari Venkatraman is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/sundarivenkat
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Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Sundari-Venkatraman/e/B00IBEUJV2
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
Flashback: 2014 for Authors - Saurabh Garg (Guest Post)
Ladies and gents, here's another author friend taking a look back on 2014 and letting you in on his journey and highlights of his life. For Guest Post 1 by Sundari Venkatraman, click here.
My 2014 - Saurabh Garg
2014 is a very special year for me. I’d always remember it. For the rest of my life. After all, my first book, The Nidhi Kapoor Story (#tnks), published and released in 2014!
Writing a book has been a dream that I’ve had for I don’t know how many years. And now that #tnks is out, I don’t want to stop. It’s a high like no other. To see your name in print. To have strangers send emails to you and tell you that they enjoyed the book. To have your long lost friends call in and congratulate you. It’s a feeling that is unparalleled.
When I look back in time, I wonder why didn’t I write a book sooner. I always thought that writing would be tough and getting a book out will be next to impossible. But when I got around to doing it, I realized that starting was the toughest bit. After that, everything just, sort of, falls in place. Trust me it does! Start writing yours and you’d know what I am saying.
Apart from the dream-come-true bit, even though #tnks doesn’t sell a lot, the book has opened a lot of doors for me. I made tons of new friends and each friend taught me a thing or two. The ever-elusive doors to the Bollywood opened up (as I write this, I am talking to a few people to sell the movie rights of #tnks; fingers crossed). Friends and strangers read, appreciated and said kind things about #tnks (most people who’ve read the book have liked it and of course there are few who do not).
And all these things have encouraged me to go forth and write my next. Also, may be, just may be, writing is my calling! I don’t know yet. I will figure out in the next few years.
Most importantly, writing and publishing a book has given me confidence like nothing else. Now that I have done the seemingly insurmountable task of getting a book out, I believe that I can do anything. Throw a challenge my way and I will accomplish it. Well, any challenge except beating Mr. Bhagat on the sales or popularity charts. If all goes well, I may actually do it someday!
While I was working on the book, there were so many moments of self-doubt. I remember I had considered leaving it midway at least thrice. After all my grammar sucked, my vocabulary was limited and the story was full of clichés. And which interesting writer has a name as boring as “Saurabh Garg?” I mean if I were called Chandraprakash Paul Chatterjee or Basant Singh Chatwal or something, I would’ve become famous by the virtue of my name. But Saurabh Garg? No way!
But everytime I felt like quitting, I was reminded of this famous quote by my self-appointed guru, Steve Jobs. He often said, “real artists ship.” I shipped. I did not allow my limitations to deter me and I continued to write. Once I was done with the manuscript, my publisher fixed a large part of my book. And helped me ship.
If I didn’t ship I wouldn’t have got so many people to give me feedback on how I write. Each piece of feedback has helped me improve. This post and the new readers I’d reach to, hopefully will help me as an author. In fact, if you are reading this, I urge you to please point out mistakes. I urge you to please write in. I shall be grateful.
Apart from the book, another highlight of 2014 would be my decision to help other first-time writers. I realize that I’ve been lucky with the entire publishing process and there must be a lot of first-timers who may not be as lucky. So, I try and work with them on their manuscripts. So far, have worked with three authors already. I don’t claim to be an expert, but I do have some experience and insights. I have given them inputs basis my limited understanding of the publishing process. If you think you need someone to go through your manuscript, please do let me know. I would be happy to help. Why am I doing this? Call it a way to give back or call it paying it forward. It just feels natural. So I am doing it!
To end this, 2014 has been great to me. And I am very excited about 2015. I plan to write 250K words in the year. That’s like three full-length books. I also plan to publish my second book in 2015. And I plan to work with more first-time authors. And I plan to continue to push myself.
From where I am, the journey will only take me higher. I know it will be one hell of a ride. Join me, if you will.
All the best to you too for 2015.
@Devika, thanks a ton for making me review the year gone by. Like last year, I hope that in 2015, you continue to allow me to pick your brains.
@Other readers, may 2015 be the greatest year of your lives. Like I said, please do tell me if you think I could improve somehow. And if there's something I could do to help you, please do let me know.
Thanks!
Saurabh Garg
30 Dec 2014
Connect with the Author
Saurabh Garg is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Buy #tnks from Amazon: http://bit.ly/tnksA
Buy #tnks from Flipkart: http://bit.ly/tnksFK
Buy #tnks from Kindle: http://bit.ly/tnksAK
Book FB page: http://fb.me/TheNidhiKapoorStory
Twitter: http://twitter.com/saurabh
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
My 2014 - Saurabh Garg2014 is a very special year for me. I’d always remember it. For the rest of my life. After all, my first book, The Nidhi Kapoor Story (#tnks), published and released in 2014!
Writing a book has been a dream that I’ve had for I don’t know how many years. And now that #tnks is out, I don’t want to stop. It’s a high like no other. To see your name in print. To have strangers send emails to you and tell you that they enjoyed the book. To have your long lost friends call in and congratulate you. It’s a feeling that is unparalleled.
When I look back in time, I wonder why didn’t I write a book sooner. I always thought that writing would be tough and getting a book out will be next to impossible. But when I got around to doing it, I realized that starting was the toughest bit. After that, everything just, sort of, falls in place. Trust me it does! Start writing yours and you’d know what I am saying.
Apart from the dream-come-true bit, even though #tnks doesn’t sell a lot, the book has opened a lot of doors for me. I made tons of new friends and each friend taught me a thing or two. The ever-elusive doors to the Bollywood opened up (as I write this, I am talking to a few people to sell the movie rights of #tnks; fingers crossed). Friends and strangers read, appreciated and said kind things about #tnks (most people who’ve read the book have liked it and of course there are few who do not).
And all these things have encouraged me to go forth and write my next. Also, may be, just may be, writing is my calling! I don’t know yet. I will figure out in the next few years.
Most importantly, writing and publishing a book has given me confidence like nothing else. Now that I have done the seemingly insurmountable task of getting a book out, I believe that I can do anything. Throw a challenge my way and I will accomplish it. Well, any challenge except beating Mr. Bhagat on the sales or popularity charts. If all goes well, I may actually do it someday!
While I was working on the book, there were so many moments of self-doubt. I remember I had considered leaving it midway at least thrice. After all my grammar sucked, my vocabulary was limited and the story was full of clichés. And which interesting writer has a name as boring as “Saurabh Garg?” I mean if I were called Chandraprakash Paul Chatterjee or Basant Singh Chatwal or something, I would’ve become famous by the virtue of my name. But Saurabh Garg? No way!
But everytime I felt like quitting, I was reminded of this famous quote by my self-appointed guru, Steve Jobs. He often said, “real artists ship.” I shipped. I did not allow my limitations to deter me and I continued to write. Once I was done with the manuscript, my publisher fixed a large part of my book. And helped me ship.
If I didn’t ship I wouldn’t have got so many people to give me feedback on how I write. Each piece of feedback has helped me improve. This post and the new readers I’d reach to, hopefully will help me as an author. In fact, if you are reading this, I urge you to please point out mistakes. I urge you to please write in. I shall be grateful.
Apart from the book, another highlight of 2014 would be my decision to help other first-time writers. I realize that I’ve been lucky with the entire publishing process and there must be a lot of first-timers who may not be as lucky. So, I try and work with them on their manuscripts. So far, have worked with three authors already. I don’t claim to be an expert, but I do have some experience and insights. I have given them inputs basis my limited understanding of the publishing process. If you think you need someone to go through your manuscript, please do let me know. I would be happy to help. Why am I doing this? Call it a way to give back or call it paying it forward. It just feels natural. So I am doing it!
To end this, 2014 has been great to me. And I am very excited about 2015. I plan to write 250K words in the year. That’s like three full-length books. I also plan to publish my second book in 2015. And I plan to work with more first-time authors. And I plan to continue to push myself.
From where I am, the journey will only take me higher. I know it will be one hell of a ride. Join me, if you will.
All the best to you too for 2015.
@Devika, thanks a ton for making me review the year gone by. Like last year, I hope that in 2015, you continue to allow me to pick your brains.
@Other readers, may 2015 be the greatest year of your lives. Like I said, please do tell me if you think I could improve somehow. And if there's something I could do to help you, please do let me know.
Thanks!
Saurabh Garg
30 Dec 2014
Connect with the Author
Saurabh Garg is a proud member of The Book Club, which helps authors from around the world with promotions.
Buy #tnks from Amazon: http://bit.ly/tnksA
Buy #tnks from Flipkart: http://bit.ly/tnksFK
Buy #tnks from Kindle: http://bit.ly/tnksAK
Book FB page: http://fb.me/TheNidhiKapoorStory
Twitter: http://twitter.com/saurabh
#2014 #Flashback #Authors
December 26, 2014
Review of Matches Made in Heaven by Sundari Venkatraman
I’ve already read two novels by Sundari Venkatraman – "Meghna" and "The Runaway Bridegroom" – and loved both. This is totally new to me though, because I usually shy away from anthologies with short stories. I’m happy that I gave this a chance. To honour her talent, here’s a tiny review (more or less comments that popped into my head while and after reading) for each story in the aptly named collection "Matches Made in Heaven".
GROOMNAPPED: The title doesn’t leave much to imagination – or does it? You’re in for a surprise here, believe me. I loved the almost cocky confidence and humour this story exudes.
BEAUTY IS BUT SKIN DEEP: Know the saying about the ugly duckling growing into a beautiful swan? This is sort of what happens with Simi in this heart-warming story. She had beauty lurking inside her for all those years, but it takes a few shocks and the help of Cupid to make her realize it. Can I throw another fitting saying at you? Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder!
AN ARRANGED MATCH: I saw this one coming, but that made the tale no less satisfying. The author sure knows how to write a sensual steamy scene that gets the reader all hot and bothered. And as usual, I loved both the heroine and the hero instantly.
RED ROSE DATING AGENCY: Oh, another pleasant surprise. I really like the characterization in this, and the hidden messages peppering the plot. Well done, Ms. Venkatraman, well done!
CHAHTI HOON TUMHE: I had been waiting for the author to delve into the endless possibilities of Bollywood, and with this short story she has done so in a wonderful way. I had sensed danger coming, but not in the way it finally came. Nice twist! And I also loved it that the heroine and not the hero is the movie star in this!
SOUL MATES: The author deftly manages to weave several generations and several love stories into a few words – words with a meaning that runs deep and rings true. I know about traditions in Asia / India and shouldn’t have been shocked, but I was nevertheless.
MADEINHEAVEN.COM: I have a very mixed attitude towards online dating and matchmaking, but this story was a treat to read. Once again, a surprise is in store for you. And now excuse me while I brainstorm a plan to set up a matchmaking website and attract millions to it… ;-)
RAHAT MILI: Totally hadn’t seen this one coming. With its almost paranormal touch, it wound its way straight into my heart. I think this is my favourite story of the anthology. I can see the potential for a whole novel in here. Ms. Venkatraman, if you read this, please take the hint. ;-)
REEMA’S MATCHMAKERS: I love stories revolving around second chances, and this one is no exception. I could picture the characters in my head, and I applaud the author’s daring for writing about them. They sure deserved the happy end they got!
THE RELUCTANT BRIDE: I had expected something else from the title, but what the author came up with was a pleasant and entertaining surprise. I was rooting for both of them at the same time, and loved the mix of sweet and sassy and sexy.
SHWETA KA SWAYAMVAR: If I hadn’t already picked a favourite, then this would be my choice. Loved the witty, thoroughly entertaining and imaginable story. When do we get to see it on TV? ;-)
PAPPA’S GIRL: Nicely written. Full of energy and dynamics. I like the role the father played in this story.
LOVE MATCH FOR VELAN: The last story of the anthology definitely makes it into my Top 3. I love the mythological flair to it, and although the story seemed quite predictable, it had me enraptured and longing for more. I’m beginning to think the author should try her hand at historical romance…
Rating: 4/5
GROOMNAPPED: The title doesn’t leave much to imagination – or does it? You’re in for a surprise here, believe me. I loved the almost cocky confidence and humour this story exudes.
BEAUTY IS BUT SKIN DEEP: Know the saying about the ugly duckling growing into a beautiful swan? This is sort of what happens with Simi in this heart-warming story. She had beauty lurking inside her for all those years, but it takes a few shocks and the help of Cupid to make her realize it. Can I throw another fitting saying at you? Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder!
AN ARRANGED MATCH: I saw this one coming, but that made the tale no less satisfying. The author sure knows how to write a sensual steamy scene that gets the reader all hot and bothered. And as usual, I loved both the heroine and the hero instantly.
RED ROSE DATING AGENCY: Oh, another pleasant surprise. I really like the characterization in this, and the hidden messages peppering the plot. Well done, Ms. Venkatraman, well done!
CHAHTI HOON TUMHE: I had been waiting for the author to delve into the endless possibilities of Bollywood, and with this short story she has done so in a wonderful way. I had sensed danger coming, but not in the way it finally came. Nice twist! And I also loved it that the heroine and not the hero is the movie star in this!
SOUL MATES: The author deftly manages to weave several generations and several love stories into a few words – words with a meaning that runs deep and rings true. I know about traditions in Asia / India and shouldn’t have been shocked, but I was nevertheless.
MADEINHEAVEN.COM: I have a very mixed attitude towards online dating and matchmaking, but this story was a treat to read. Once again, a surprise is in store for you. And now excuse me while I brainstorm a plan to set up a matchmaking website and attract millions to it… ;-)
RAHAT MILI: Totally hadn’t seen this one coming. With its almost paranormal touch, it wound its way straight into my heart. I think this is my favourite story of the anthology. I can see the potential for a whole novel in here. Ms. Venkatraman, if you read this, please take the hint. ;-)
REEMA’S MATCHMAKERS: I love stories revolving around second chances, and this one is no exception. I could picture the characters in my head, and I applaud the author’s daring for writing about them. They sure deserved the happy end they got!
THE RELUCTANT BRIDE: I had expected something else from the title, but what the author came up with was a pleasant and entertaining surprise. I was rooting for both of them at the same time, and loved the mix of sweet and sassy and sexy.
SHWETA KA SWAYAMVAR: If I hadn’t already picked a favourite, then this would be my choice. Loved the witty, thoroughly entertaining and imaginable story. When do we get to see it on TV? ;-)
PAPPA’S GIRL: Nicely written. Full of energy and dynamics. I like the role the father played in this story.
LOVE MATCH FOR VELAN: The last story of the anthology definitely makes it into my Top 3. I love the mythological flair to it, and although the story seemed quite predictable, it had me enraptured and longing for more. I’m beginning to think the author should try her hand at historical romance…
Rating: 4/5
December 25, 2014
Review of Hidden Passion by Summerita Rhayne
There is much to love about the story of Kamboj princess Rukmani and royal ruler Devesh. The story moves along at a brisk pace, encompassing romance, tragedy, action and even a few healthy doses of philosophy and politics.
The author managed to make the setting and characters come alive by painting a picture in rich detail without ever letting the plot slacken.
I appreciate the way Rukmani is at once the spoiled, slightly childish, naïve and impetuous princess and also a young woman with a strong will, on a quest for love and for finding herself and her place in the world. Her infatuation with sometimes arrogant and aggressive, at other times caring and intelligent Devesh was all too understandable. He’s a great hero, a hunky and powerful alpha male with feelings hidden beneath the hard veneer, with brain as well as brawn. The two of them make a formidable couple and seem made for each other, despite the circumstances.
I have always been fascinated by ancient India, and Summerita Rhayne took me right back to that intriguing era with its charms and horrors. The power plays and intrigues, the customs and the language transport the reader into the past.
This is a novella gripping enough to read in one go, with just the right amount of background information, with witty dialogue, and with two strong, vivid protagonists that fall in love and in lust.
If you enjoy historical romances and / or stories set in India, give this book a chance!
Rating: 4/5
Link:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00RBUM0EG
Blurb:
Rukmani, the youngest of her family, has always had her way and she thinks she would too when the question of her marriage arises. But when she expresses her wishes, her world comes crumbling down because aristocratic affairs seem to matter more than her heart. Who can she run to but the strongest ruler of the region, Deveshwaraya?
Devesh finds himself torn between duty and desire. He is drawn to her yet being with her jeopardizes everything he has worked for. When even protecting her invites trouble, how can he let his heart become involved?
When the walls of monarchical politics rise high between them, will her passion prevail?
Hidden Passion – the story of a princess daring to reach out for her heart’s desire.
The author managed to make the setting and characters come alive by painting a picture in rich detail without ever letting the plot slacken.
I appreciate the way Rukmani is at once the spoiled, slightly childish, naïve and impetuous princess and also a young woman with a strong will, on a quest for love and for finding herself and her place in the world. Her infatuation with sometimes arrogant and aggressive, at other times caring and intelligent Devesh was all too understandable. He’s a great hero, a hunky and powerful alpha male with feelings hidden beneath the hard veneer, with brain as well as brawn. The two of them make a formidable couple and seem made for each other, despite the circumstances.
I have always been fascinated by ancient India, and Summerita Rhayne took me right back to that intriguing era with its charms and horrors. The power plays and intrigues, the customs and the language transport the reader into the past.
This is a novella gripping enough to read in one go, with just the right amount of background information, with witty dialogue, and with two strong, vivid protagonists that fall in love and in lust.
If you enjoy historical romances and / or stories set in India, give this book a chance!
Rating: 4/5
Link:http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00RBUM0EG
Blurb:
Rukmani, the youngest of her family, has always had her way and she thinks she would too when the question of her marriage arises. But when she expresses her wishes, her world comes crumbling down because aristocratic affairs seem to matter more than her heart. Who can she run to but the strongest ruler of the region, Deveshwaraya?
Devesh finds himself torn between duty and desire. He is drawn to her yet being with her jeopardizes everything he has worked for. When even protecting her invites trouble, how can he let his heart become involved?
When the walls of monarchical politics rise high between them, will her passion prevail?
Hidden Passion – the story of a princess daring to reach out for her heart’s desire.
