Date Published: 4/13/2013
Angry at the human race and its methodical destruction of her resources, Mother Earth recruits souls who have just left their bodies to serve Her, and turns them against humanity. A powerful, rising force proceeds to carry out Mother Nature’s plan to systematically destroy towns, cities, states… and eventually, the world. Amidst the chaos, a forbidden relationship between a human girl, Violette, and Onyx, a lead Gemini, begins. They will both find themselves in the middle of a revolutionary war that will either save, or destroy our world.
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Onyx floated near the window of Violette’s room. He observed her sleeping face. The new scratches on her cheeks and dirt under her nails were a painful reminder of the mess he’d made. Everything had gone smoothly until he’d been unable to resist a little touch. He’d just wanted to feel her before he ruined the one chance he would ever have to get close to her. He had planned on taking over Slate long enough to proclaim his love for Eleanor and thereby ruining the boy’s hold on Violette’s heart. A nasty plan, but better than having to live with the thought of Slate having her to himself.
He never thought his reaction would be so explosive. Her hand had been so soft, warm, and the look in her eyes was liquid desire. When he’d led her up on her knees, his craving to be touched by her had overwhelmed him. It was like giving into a carnal sin, allowing a human to have power over him. For any human to get this close to a Gemini, in a peaceful fashion, was unheard of. A shameful need had begun to work its way into his psyche. The fire leapt out of control and turned into an incredible rage, a rage so whole and powerful, he had been consumed with Slate’s human adrenaline when he had attacked her. How could this lovely, weak little creature have such an influence over him? He considered this longing to be an inadequacy within himself, one that he could not conquer. He was then determined to kill both her and Slate. He had lost his temper. Never before had he felt he would wither away if he didn’t take a soul. He’d always been able to pick and choose his victims, but Violette had unknowingly chosen him. The thought of facing Tork with this information drove him to the grim conclusion that he had no choice.
Looking down at her now and how peacefully she slept, he was so very glad Slate had broken free long enough to chase her away. She did not deserve the fate he would’ve given her. His guilt was eating at him now. He had to destroy this place, but he was not sure he could leave her to perish. Frustrated, he sank to the cot beside her and laid his head down on her belly. She slept soundly, oblivious to his silent apology. If he stayed away from her, he could not hurt her. So he would follow Slate and learn where his strength to fight him off stemmed from.
"Sleep, little one," he whispered, and sank through the floor, on his way to the cellar.
Not only is the cover a way to draw the reader in and sell your book, but it’s also a way to brand yourself. It can be as subtle as the font of a book cover that sticks with us, or a simple image that imprints in our memory. For me, the best example I can think of is the Twilight book covers. They were all very simple and in Black and White, except New Moon had a green stem on the tulip.
With all the marketing, advertising and information we take in on a daily basis, our brains are taking things in faster but we aren’t really processing things any better. This means something has to grab our attention and hold it. Our multi-tasking, our electronics obsession, the speed of our daily lives, all of this stuff competes with what impacts us in the moments when we slow down. I don’t know about you, but if I’m gonna spend $10 on a print book, or even $3.99 on an electronic one, I like to slow down, take my time and see what draws me in.And don’t forget the back of the book! After the cover invites us to pic it up, where do we go from there? Directly to the back, to read about the book! You can say just as much on the back as you do on the front but with words instead of images!
I was born in Chesapeake, Virginia on April 19th, 1979. I was raised within the American Indian religion and was taught great respect for the earth and all its living beings. Powwows, sweat lodges, vision quests, you name it, I’ve done it. I was the weird kid who would confront kids on the playground in elementary school when they squished a bug. I would very sincerely tell them what they were doing was morally wrong and then I would pray for the bug to come back as a butterfly in its next life.
I grew up admiring my father, Barry Weinstock, as an author. He took me around the country to different places so he could research and write his Wilderness Survival books. One of his greatest works, “The Path of Power,” was written with a great medicine man, Sunbear. When I was twelve I started hand writing novels. My first one was two thousand pages. My dad always encouraged me and would rave about my writing. He gave me the confidence I needed to keep writing and follow my dream. My daughter, who is twelve, is currently working on her first novel. I hope to continue the legacy.