Sunday, December 01, 2013

Happy Holidays! or Why I had to Postpone the Release of Samadhi

I'm patting my belly as I sit at the lappy and wondering why the holidays and book releases make me want to eat.  Maybe the stress?  All the yummy turkey and gravy, stuffing and sweet potatoes, and oh, yeah, the pumpkin pie?  Yummmmmm.  I'm going to be working out for two weeks to make up for all the indulging.  *sigh*  Me and my trainer are going to get extra face time.

I'm also going to be working overtime between now and Christmas to get the last book in the Love and Light Series ready for release.  I had hoped to release it by November 30th, but, yeah, *clears throat* that didn't happen.

However, I promise the book will be out by January 2014, so you won't be waiting too much longer.  In the meantime, dear friends, may I bribe your forgiveness with an excerpt from the book?  And don't forget you can get Enlightened -- Book One for just 99 cents.

Enjoy! and I hope you had a great Thanksgiving and don't forget to take the time to check out all the Christmas lights and spend some quality time with friends and family this holiday season.  Family is a precious gift, whether it is the one you were born into or the one you created.


Excerpt from Samadhi -- Book Three in the Love and Light Series

When he awoke, his mother was pouring him a glass of water as she sat by his bedside.  A fresh bruise bloomed over her eye and cheekbone.  Christian struggled to sit up, reaching out to touch her cheek.  She turned her head away and his hand hesitated in the air before falling to his side.

“You need to take your medicine, darling,” she murmured as she poured thick syrup into a silver spoon.

“Mamma, he shouldn’t hurt you like this.  He should not hurt you, ever.”  Christian’s blue eyes blazed with fever and fearful indignation, his plump cheeks bright pink.

She laid a hand over his and held out the spoon.  “You are not to worry over me, my sweet boy.  Let me worry over you.” 

The touch of her cool hand on his skin was blessed relief, but the little boy couldn’t let go of the fearful anger. She smiled as only a mother in love with her son can do, and he smiled back with equal affection.  Swallowing his medicine, the youngster fell back into his rumpled bed clothes, weak and woozy with the fever. 

“Now, get some rest and maybe in the morning—if you are feeling better, mind you—we can read some more Le Tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours.”

Christian’s eyes lit up as he took his mother’s hand and kissed it.  “I will free us one day, Momma.  I promise. One day, you and I will travel around the world, just like Phileas Fogg and Passepartout.”

She laughed softly as she kissed his overheated forehead.  “Bonne nuit, mon prince doux.”

Christian drifted off to an unsettling sleep, where he tossed and turned amidst a nightmare about being buried alive.

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