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Friday, October 21, 2011

Trial of The Goddess Chapter 1 and a Note

I'm right in the middle of writing a new book (Finally) and I didn't have time to finish the article I planned for today. So here's the first chapter of the  international smash hit Isis prequel: Isis Trial of The Goddess available in ebook on Nook and Kindle and for your ipad. It's also available in print only on amazon (Shawn can't afford a Lighting Source run due to dwindling finances.) The royalty money from the paperbacks and eBooks you buy helps keep me able to stay afloat for one more day!

On top of it I'm having some shitty internet service today, so I'm lucky I can get this to you.  Articles will be back on Monday!  (I hope)

Chapter 1

Under the moonlit sky, I look down at the corpses of Klansmen strewn about the grass in my backyard. When my crusade is over these United States will have their benighted and corrupt White leaders replaced with a fair and just order I establish.

I’m sure there’ll be retaliation from the Whites to other innocent Negroes in town when they become aware of the retribution I have meted out for myself. As their goddess, I cannot let my brothers and sisters suffer for my actions. Having the power to do something about the inhumane treatment my people suffer I must take final action to end the oppression of the Negro people. Only the total extermination of this White vermin will allow my people to live in peace. They have stolen this land from its rightful owners and brought my people here in bondage. I will remove the White menace from this land and fairly recompense those peoples oppressed under the conditions established by their unjust constitution.

I walk through the dozens of broken carcasses dressed in bloodstained white sheets and hoods over to a small body wrapped tightly in a bloodstained white blanket. I look down at my son and tears well up in my eyes. I would have let them live had they spared you. Now I look forward to making their women see their children like this before I kill them.

Squatting down to examine the body of my son, I see the charred corpse of my late husband Joe hanging on the tree in out backyard out of the corner of my eye. I’ll make sure you both have proper burials before I go on my crusade.

I storm over to the smoldering wooden shell that was once our home. Embers of the fire that once destroyed it still glow red in the broken blackened boards lying scattered on the ground and inside the gutted framework. As I step onto the porch, the smoky stench from the wafting smoke is almost unbearable. I must find the shovel to dig their graves.

Entering the doorway, I walk past pieces of a mirror that once sat in our entranceway, broken glass from our window, soot and ash from the fire. I know I left the shovel right next to this mirror. I put it here this morning when Joe gave it to me. I meant to put it back in the shed, but I forgot about it when Joseph started crying. We were doing some chores before going out to the store to buy some things. It still should be here.

The full moon casts down in the house and I see the shovel covered in soot, lying on the floor amidst the broken glass and burned wood planks. As I reach for it, a white light approaches me from out of nowhere. The light grows brighter and larger; I put my hands in front of my face to keep from being blinded by it.

In the instant that the light gets in my eyes my surroundings change. Wherever I am must be a lavish place; I’m standing on gold tiles. I’m familiar with the wall paintings that display the exploits of the gods of ancient Egypt; I’ve seen them many times in the royal palace of Nubia when I was a little girl. However, this place feels different. Could I have been transported to Heliopolis to join my fellow gods?

I look down the corridor and see a pair of golden doors detailed in raised symbols on the far end. As I start walking towards them, they open and two men approach me.

One of the men is tall, strong, and handsome. He’s dressed like a prince in a white pleated kilt, golden pectoral collar and brown sandals. Rings are on his fingers and his golden necklace has an amulet on it in the shape of a falcon. When I look at his face I see myself. We could be twins.

The second man is taller than the first with skin as dark as coal. He must be at least seven feet tall. His muscles are larger and thicker than the other man’s; he must be very strong. I can see myself in his somber face as well. He wears brown sandals and a black pleated kilt held up by a pair of purple straps. The only jewelry he wears are the textured gold gauntlets on his wrists and the amulet on his neck that depicts a jackal’s head. In his hands are chains. Are these for my enemies?

When I approach the gods they greet me with somber expressions. Are they grieving the loss of my family too?

“Are you Horus?” I ask the handsome man.

“I am.” He answers.

“And you are Anubis?” I ask the dark skinned man.

“I am. He answers.”

“It is unfortunate that we first meet under these circumstances sister.” Horus says. “I regret your reunion with us will not be an amicable one.”

Horus grabs my wrists. Anubis clamps the iron chains on them. I struggle to pull away from him as Horus clamps more chains on my ankles.

“Take your hands off me!” I demand. “I haven’t done anything wrong!” I demand.

“Goddess Isis, by the authority of the Elders of New Heliopolis I place you under arrest.” Horus says.

When he says that I yank at the chains on my arms. However, even with my incredible strength I can’t break them. “Under arrest? I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Anubis grabs me by the shoulders. His grip is so strong I feel like I’m in a vise. He leans over to address me.

“It would be best if you did not resist us.” He whispers in my ear.

The gentle tone of Anubis’ deep voice eases my fears. I stop resisting.

“Be silent and comply with us sister. You will be able to explain your case to the Elders.” Anubis reassures.

I take a deep breath and let it out. I hear my heart racing as Horus and Anubis lead me down the corridor towards the mysterious golden doors to face justice for the crimes I’m accused of.

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