A looming apocalypse.
A secret refuge.
A demon in the shadows determined to thwart their escape.
The Haven Series Book 1
by Emeryl Williams
Genre: Contemporary Apocalyptic Survival Fantasy
A looming apocalypse.
A secret refuge.
A demon in the shadows.
When all signs point to an impending disaster no one can yet
name, Cerise and Derrick discover the only thing more dangerous than
persecution by their community is the truth: the Goddess has called their
people to flee and seek safety in a hidden sanctuary. The clock is ticking as
they race against a closing portal, a coming reckoning, enemies determined to
burn them out before they can escape, and an unrecognized demonic threat to
their entire plan.
Haven’s Sanctuary:
Season of Reckoning is a fast-moving fantasy-suspense story of magic,
sanctuary, love under pressure, faith under fire, and apocalyptic survival. The
empowered must harness the kind of hope that refuses to die, for what begins as
a simple escape becomes a battle for their very existence.
If you love reading Auburn Tempest or Martha Carr, then grab your copy now and
step into the Haven before the portal closes.
Cerise
poured a steady stream of salt from the cardboard Morton canister, the crystals
sparkling in the candlelight, to trace out a large circle on the wooden floor
of her study. It was midnight, the kids were in bed, and breakfast oats were in
the Crock-Pot[KB1] .
She completed the circle that now surrounded and sealed her in the center. Her
raven-black hair veiled forward as she bent to pick up a single lighted taper
from the center of the circle, then walked to the northernmost point and lit a
short, fat beeswax candle that rested in a silver bowl. She murmured,
“By waxing moon, a growing light,
Silver
warm and heed my plight.”
She
traversed the circle to the easternmost point and bent over to light the next
candle fixed in the center of an octagonal copper trivet.
“Daybreak
promised in the morn,
Reveal
the light through copper warm.”
Next,
she lit the taper on the southernmost candle affixed in a bronze candle holder
she had found at a garage sale.
“Sun
at zenith powerful sight,
Bronze
warm and strengthen might.”
At
the westernmost point, the last candle was set on a small golden charger—one of
her most valued possessions, even if only gold plated. Her mother had gifted it
to her years ago for just this purpose. She lit the final wick and invoked the
last quarter.
“Setting
sun at end of day,
Gold
warm and battle for the Way.”
Cerise
returned to the center of the circle, sat cross-legged on the floor, the taper
in front of her, pulled her hair behind her head, and tied it back with one of
her daughter’s scrunchies. She closed her eyes and took several deep cleansing
breaths to settle her emotions. Clearing her mind, she focused on positive
energy and intentions as she sifted through the memories of the fight with her
husband, Brad, last week. She acknowledged the pain of his rejection, his ugly
words, and his condemnation of her magical empowerment. He had threatened her
and promised retribution from the entire town if she did not abandon her powers
and the local magical community.
As
if she could give up her empowerment.
The
house creaked in rhythm to her boiling emotions.
Earth
magic was an integral part of her soul, not a toy that could be discarded on a
whim. She was a leader of the Haven, the local community of empowered
believers, and helped to guide and perform the seasonal rituals. Brad had come
to the celebrations with her for years, but only as a spectator. He had not an
ounce of magic in him. He now spent more time at work and the corner bar than
with her and the kids, and last week had come home drunk and shouting.
“Cerise . . .
you gotta stop this blasphemy you call magic! It’s not real . . .
you’re leading the children down a dangerous path.” He paused, his face twisted
in fury. “You and your friends are nothing but fakes and charlatans. You are
the reason our town is failing. Times are changing and the city council won’t
put up with your hocus pocus any longer. I’ll see to that! If you don’t quit,
we’ll run you out of town!” He had struck her across the face, the force
sending her to the floor, before throwing his clothes in a suitcase and storming
[EW2] out.
She
still bore the bruise of his abuse on her right cheek.
The
walls began to vibrate, a portent of the suppressed violence that seethed
within her soul. “So easy . . . so easy to take vengeance,”
whispered that dark corner of her mind. “Destroy them first,” the sinister
voice continued. “Make them pay for not believing in the powers you possess.
Show them the might and righteousness you wield in your fingertips.” Small
sparks blazed in her eyes, now filled with anger.
“Hold,
child,” said another voice, gentle, filled with compassion. The words of the
Goddess, always her North Star, echoed in her mind. “As a true follower of the
Mother, you have never turned to the dark. Do not do so now. I command you to
stand down. Your strength and power will be needed to combat the rising evil
around you all too soon. Do not sink into the tempting siren song of darkness.
Rise above the hate. Reject vengeance, for that is the burden of the Father.
You are committed to the Light, my child. Follow the Mother’s path.”
With
painful slowness Cerise battled to control the roiling darkness in the corner
of her soul. Always there. Always tempting her to lose control, to lash out at
those who meant her and her kind nothing but ill will. The walls stopped
vibrating; the creaking of the house returned to the usual noises of an old
farmhouse in the middle of the night. The sparks in Cerise’s eyes went out, the
anger abated.
More
deep breaths steadied her hand as she placed a bundle of dried sage and juniper
tied with cotton string by the taper. Out of the bag at her side, she grabbed
handfuls of fresh sage leaves, rosemary, and lavender sprigs she had harvested
this morning from the garden and strewed them around her, the aroma of fresh
herbs a reminder of the power of the Light. She took the dried herbal bundle
and lit the end, waving it around her to spread the smoke, before she placed it
on an old glass ashtray from her grandmother, sentimental but essentially
useless since no one smoked cigarettes in this family anymore.[EW3]
Once
again, she carefully set her intentions. She eliminated her fear, cleansed her
mind of negative thoughts, and clung [EW4] to
all the positive energy she could conjure: the love of her children, the
support of her community, and most of all her deep belief in the unseen powers
that ruled the sun and
moon, the tides and seasons.[EW5]
“Mother,
Father[EW6] ,
rulers of all,
Cleanse
my soul of pain and hate,
Ease
the grief of love lost and gone,
Renew
my heart and heal this wound.
Release
all vengeful thoughts from me,
Redeem
my soul and leave pristine.”
Inhaling
the fragrant herbal smoke, Cerise allowed her mind to float. She had no more
tears and would face the trial of single motherhood with strength and grace. A
smile flitted across her lips. Her children were empowered, a fact she had
never confided to her husband. They had not yet come into their powers, but she
could feel the spark of magic growing within them.
The
center taper burned down to a nubbin and sputtered.
It
was time to move forward, time to plan.
A little bitta Texas... A little bitta medicine... A lotta
bit of Fantasy!
Emeryl Williams is a longtime resident of the Panhandle and
having worn out a pair of boots here considers herself a Texan. She has always
been an avid reader of science fiction and fantasy. Her first work is The
Chosen of Bryndir Series which introduces the Bryndir Universe, filled with
magic, danger, and a powerful Talisman fated to save a Kingdom at war. Her
latest work is Haven's Sanctuary: Season of Reckoning in which she branches out
into apocalypse survival fantasy. Her books will always feature a little bit of
Texas...a little bit of medicine...and a lotta bit of fantasy!
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