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.
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.
10 THINGS YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My middle name is
Meadowlark
I would rather work
with computers than humans even though I’ve been in sales for 15 years!
I have 4, inside only,
adorable fluffy things called cats
My car is hideously
dirty
I am a habitual
exerciser. Seriously. If I don’t exercise in some way, after a couple of days I
have withdrawal symptoms. Grumpiness, restlessness and extreme agitation!
I’ve been married twice
and I’m 35
I partied and ate at
Waffle House with Robert Van Winkle AKA: Vanilla Ice
I can build a T-Pee, a
sweat lodge and a medicine wheel
I love fast cars
I never want to grow up
ABOUT THE BOOK
AN EXCERPT
There
was a soft rocking motion inside him, gentle at first, and then more
persistent. He was scared. His insides
churned and bubbled, as though they had taken on a life of their own. He felt
his stomach cave in on itself; bile rose in his throat with no outlet to
escape. There was a huge pressure building inside his chest, despite the
slowing rhythm of his heart and breathing. What was happening? Why did he feel
like he was morphing into something else? His thoughts were there but his body
was slipping out of control.
He
was almost jiggling on the inside now. He couldn’t tell if it was his whole
body moving rapidly, or the motion of blood surging through his veins, trying
to reach all his vital organs. A sense of being invaded came over him. Angry at
the intrusion that he could not define or fight, he tried once more to work his
voice but this time heard a stranger’s voice.
“Relax,
Collin. I’m going to take care of you now. You are coming with me.” It was the
same voice that had been talking to Darius only moments ago, but now it was
smooth and soothing, not a trace of menace, all charm. And it was coming from
within him.
“Let’s
go Collin.” A jolt of fear gripped him ever tighter. Please just let me die,
he thought inwardly. I can’t do this. I
don’t understand.
“Collin?
What’s wrong?” the voice asked him, “I said lets go.” He was jerked upright
into a sitting position, with no real help from his hands, he stood up in one
sweeping motion at a ninety degree angle.
Darius
let out a terrified yelp.
“Oh
God. No,” he started to whimper as Collin began to walk away from the
churchyard and down the sidewalk. Before he was out of sight, he stopped
abruptly and turned his head back towards the church.
Although Collin had no control over his
motions, he knew on a conscious level that he was smiling demonically at
Darius, and slowly waving goodbye. “We’ll be back after we are healed.” He spoke with reassurance, just like a sweet
promise from mother to child. He knew he was walking away from his home where
Olivia was, the town where his sister lived, where he was born. This was almost
a relief. The need to see them was great, but he also knew he was not himself
anymore. This thing that was moving him now, that had prevented his death, was
not a good thing.
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