Do you like The Two Moons of Rehnor series? Come on. If you're here hanging around my website, I know you do. Have you left me a review? As a self-published Indie Author, I don't have a giant publishing company with a huge marketing budget to help me get the word out. I'm forced to beg for reviews, so I'm begging. Please help me attract more readers by leaving a review on Amazon.com and/or wherever you found the series, including at the library. Ideally, please leave a review on The Boy and if possible, your favorite book in the series. It doesn't have to say much, only that you liked it. I hated writing book reports in school too. If you've purchased the series outside of the USA, please leave your review on your country's site, as well as .com. And, hey, if anyone knows any movie producers, send them my way also. I, for one, would sure love to see Senya and his pals on the big screen.
Maddie Warren's life is a mess. After seven years, she's still mourning the tragic and sudden death of her husband, Phil. Her midlevel management job at an accounting firm bores her to tears, and every night she paces the floor of her condo, a victim of chronic insomnia.
If only she could be just starting out again like her administrative assistant, Jen, married to a hunky fireman husband, and new homeowners of their first bungalow.
Jen's attempts at fixing Maddie up with their friend, Scoop, just don't seem to work. Maddie is convinced that love will never find her again, until one fateful Saturday.
During a day of shopping at the big box store, between the Super Whip-o-Matic demo, and the table of bite-sized samples of the latest fusion cuisine, Maddie collides with an old high school flame, a guy she would prefer not to remember.
This chance meeting sets Maddie's life on a course that will change her forever, but there is nothing Maddie can do about it because her fate is controlled by someone else.
At the tender age of six, Arsan is told that he is not a normal Karupta boy, but One of Them. He leaves his mother, Colinda’s side to begin a trek in search of the answers to his many questions. Arsan must discover who he really is in this life, and who he was in the lives before, for his brother has called upon him to perform a task that is yet to be defined.
Arsan’s journey takes him to the Dark Continent where he is placed under the tutelage of the wise man, Goom. Unfortunately, Goom’s beautiful granddaughter, Gani also takes a strong interest in the boy. Goom is fearful of the many similarities to Arsan and his budding relationship with Gani, for it reminds him of a boy he tutored long ago, and a love that ended in a young girl’s violent death.
In the meantime young Marik Korelesk, while living a life of luxury due to the wealth he has amassed, spends every night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The boy doesn’t know the source of his distress. Could it be his precarious position as drug lord of the city of Farku? Or, could it be the lack of familial love, for there is only the hired help to tuck him into bed at night?
Be sure to check out the SdK Board Meeting minutes!
New SdK Board Meeting Minutes posted Aug 11, 2014
Now open in Takira-hahr, Rozari, the Two Moons of Rehnor Museum and Coffee Bistro on the main floor of the SdK Corporate Tower.
for those of you who have already purchased fairy tales, here's a preview of book 16 which I just added to the back. Expect Book 16 (currently unnamed and probably the last of the series) to be released on or about december 2014.
Senya de Kudisha was sitting in a tree. Actually, it was his favorite tree, and had always been so. He had selected this tree as such, long ago. Well, it wasn’t that long really, when one considered the vast span of time that he had been in existence in one form or another.
Senya had been wandering across this planet, both on foot and in the air, surveying his surroundings and trying to get his bearings. It was hot then, almost unbearably so, and he was quite sensitive to heat. This came from having spent a great deal of time in an extraordinarily hot place. At that moment, he didn’t entirely remember the place, or the other places which were much better. Now, he did. Now, he recalled everything for better or for worse. Today, as he sat reflecting, he wasn’t certain which he preferred to be, blissfully innocent, or knowing all there was to know.
At any rate, when Senya found this tree, a gentle breeze was flowing in from the sea, ruffling the leaves with cool, mildly moist air. A small patch of grass was growing beneath it, colored in a dark green hue from the delicious shade, while the remnants of a tiny waterfall trickled nearby.
Altogether, Senya decided, this was a perfect place to perch, as the little forest was well stocked with fresh game. The sea swelled with schools of fish, glowing in a thousand different shades, although that tiny bit of radioactivity never bothered Senya. In fact, he thought the meat a bit tastier because of it.
The eagle pair, who had previously owned this territory, weren’t overly thrilled by his intrusion, not that they had a choice in the matter. In fact, the male was quite put out, enough to lodge a formidable protest, which ended quickly with the bloke’s untimely death. The female, however, had wanted to stay on. In fact, she was busy twisting in the air, dancing on the wind. To a raptor other than Senya, this might have been impossible to resist, but the young man’s mind and heart were already taken.
At the time, Senya was busy planning what to build and where to build it. He had decided this almost barren little plot of land was where he was going to settle down. The house would go over here. There would be gardens in the front and back, and a whole new forest would arise from the meadow going north.
At the beach, he would build a long dock because the woman would want to have a boat. Over there, she’d want to plant a garden of vegetables and flowers. Behind the house, sheltered by the wind, she’d want fruit trees, and a gazebo. He knew everything she would desire, as he knew her mind and soul even better than she did. Perhaps, even better than he knew his own.
In the house, she would want a nice kitchen, as she liked to create things in pots and pans. Some of them were quite tasty, while others, not so much, but he wouldn’t tell her that. No, he would pretend it was all grand.
The bedroom would have an enormous bed, even though she would always sleep cuddled next to him, a hand on his back as if to keep him there. She would like thick blankets to wrap around herself, while he would throw them off as they were far too hot. She would cover him again, just in case he might catch cold.
As Senya sat in this same tree remembering his long ago thoughts and calculations, he wondered how he could have been so terribly wrong. Everything he had done, everything he had created had turned out for the worse, more or less. By and large, this life had been a failure, a complete and colossal mess, an utter disaster from which he might never recover.
The problem with being who he was, Senya decided, as he helped himself to another drink from the bottle of vodka in his hand, was he had no one with whom he could speak to. There simply was no one on the same level with whom he might confide. Neither was there a shoulder upon which he could cry.
Not that he intended to cry. No, Senya was not the crying type. In fact, he couldn’t recall ever crying in this life. Well, come to think of it, actually, there might have once been a tear or two. His wife had a tendency to bring out the worst in him. Surely, there had been a moment when she had reduced him to a bumbling mess, however briefly, before he had regained his composure. Yes, now that he thought on it, once or twice, that might have happened. Maybe thrice, but definitely no more than that. After which, he probably gathered his wits, and roared with anger, stomped about, destroyed a building, and executed a couple of fools, maybe more. He might have caused horrific changes in the weather, or rocked a planet, such that the gravitational field was briefly knocked askew. Probably, that had happened once or twice.
Senya took another pull on the bottle, noting the dismaying lack of liquid left. He was only slightly drunk, still feeling everything like proverbial thorns in his side, and in his feet. In fact, despite finishing every last drop, licking the top, and shaking any remaining molecules from the bottom, Senya felt as if he required far more booze.
The clarity of his perception was only slightly dimmed by now. The sounds around him not yet muted. The prickling of his skin not nearly numb enough. That ever-present ache inside his soul was as painful as blade tearing across his stomach. He ought to know. He had a felt a knife do exactly that more than once.
“Kari-fa!” he swore, tossing the empty bottle down, pausing to listen as it fell into the brush. It took exactly three and one quarter seconds, a fraction slower than it should have done, as the wind had seized upon it, blowing it slightly off course.
Did he want another? He wasn’t certain. All he knew was he needed something else to achieve the desired effect of complete and total intoxication. Would he rather have Horkin, or something stronger? There were all sorts of new drugs for sale on the streets of Old Mishnah. This was his legacy, turning everyone into useless, shattered addicts bereft of hope.
A pity this, Senya thought, stretching out on the limb, surprised that he cared so little for the people’s demise. Therein lay the apathy which he had sought, the indifference to the plight of mortal men, the creatures he had always safeguarded as their champion. Well, not anymore.
It was growing dark, and a slight chill was in the air. He took a long drag on his cig, feeling the warmth as it flowed into his lungs. It filled every bronchi and bronchiole with the familiar scent of burned tobacco, and when he exhaled, it made a cloud that briefly obscured his ethereal glow.
It was a tragedy really, but then again, what wasn't tragic? How often did life turn out exactly like anyone hoped? After all this time, after everything he had done again and again, from one century to the next, mankind was still little different than the lesser primates.
However, that didn't excuse his poor performance, nor solve the dilemma before him now. Having failed yet again in his assignment, there would be no reward. There would only be another task, another attempt to bring about the Heavenly Age in yet another universe of time and space. Unless, by some miracle, he could bring it about here, reverse the course, and change the tide once again. Indeed, he would need a miracle to make that happen.
"Kari-fa," he swore. "There is simply no chance of that occurring." He had used up his allotment of miracles too many times before. Instead, he took another long pull on his cig, deciding he was in fact, Sisyphus, for all eternity pushing a giant boulder up a hill. Each day it grew heavier still, and never would he reach the top. Such was his portion for all eternity.
The wind gusted, ruffling the tops of the trees, as the Rozarian moon began its passage through the night time sky. Senya could feel the slight warmth of the hidden sun's reflection on the moon's face. From this he knew that only a few hours remained until the new dawn broke, and another pointless day would begin.
"Would that I might die," he said to himself, and to Anyone who cared to listen. "Even if I should have to do it all again, I would leave this now."
It was then that he heard a voice, carried by the wind, and whistling through the trees, a voice he hadn’t heard in more time than he could remember.
“Senya?” she called. “Senya, where are you? Are you here? Come down. I’m back. I’m home.”
At first his heart leapt with anticipation, his pulse raced, and his blood soared, before he realized the voice came not from within this time. He wasn’t certain if it was from the future or a memory of the past. Did the winds blow forward or backward in his mind? Should he celebrate or should he mourn? Was she returning or leaving again? All he knew was, without her, he was merely an angel bereft of wings.
You can now borrow some ebook editions of The Two Moons of Rehnor series from the library! Right now, to my limited knowledge, only the King County Library System (KCLS.org) and the Washington Anytime Library System are carrying them. But, if your library system uses Overdrive, you can request they purchase the series through their normal request channels. What a great way to stay caught up on this looooong series without costing you a penny!