Blurb:
Lilith was a young girl with
dreams and a family before the final destruction of Atlantis shattered those
dreams and tore her family apart. Now refugees, Lilith and her father make
their home in the Black Land. This strange, new country has no place in Lilith’s
heart until a beloved high priestess introduces Lilith to her life purpose—to
be a Timekeeper and keep time safe.
Summoned through the seventh arch
of Atlantis by the Children of the Law of One, Lilith and her newfound friends
are sent into Atlantis’s past, and given a task that will ultimately test their
courage and try their faith in each other. Can the Timekeepers stop the dark
magus Belial before he changes the seers’ prophecy? If they fail, then their
future and the earth’s fate will be altered forever.
Excerpt:
“Why
are you here?” Lilith asked. “You’ve already got your life seal.”
“I
have more questions for Istulo.” She continued to stare at the disk.
Lilith
sighed. “My name is Lilith. What’s your name?”
Her
shoulders relaxed slightly. A hint of a smile broke out on her face. Her
upturned nose wiggled. “She-Aba. I was born here in the Black Land. Both my
parents arrived from Atlantis fourteen years ago yesterday. My mother gave
birth to me the next day.”
Lilith
perked up. “That would make today your birthday!”
She-Aba
beamed. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. For my birthday last year, I had my life
reading done by Istulo. But recently, there’s been a hiccup in my plans. It’s
like my life seal rearranged itself, and now I’m confused. I’m here for a reaffirmation.”
“What’s
the problem?”
She-Aba
traced her life seal with the tip of her perfectly shaped fingernail. “My
lifetime occupation was supposed to be to design clothing for the people of the
various positions in the court and temples.”
Lilith
smirked. “That makes perfect sense.”
“I
know, right? So why, all of a sudden, would my life seal change from designing
clothing to something completely different?”
Lilith
arched a fair brow. “How different?”
“Well,
instead of clothing people in lavish robes and gowns for others to appreciate,
the seal suggests that I’ll be doing the opposite by covering up and hiding the
truth. I don’t understand it at all. I thought my life was all planned out for
me.”
“I
thought mine was too, until my country blew up and slid into the ocean,” Lilith
muttered.
“Hey,
look at the bright side, at least your hair isn’t red like mine.”
Lilith
eyed She-Aba carefully. “What’s wrong with red hair? My uncle has red hair and
it suits him fine.”
She-Aba
moved in closer. “If you haven’t noticed already, there aren’t many redheads
around here. The natives think red is magical, and anyone with red hair is
considered a freak of nature.”
“That’s
ridiculous!” Lilith said loud enough to cause an echo down the marble hallway.
“Is that the reason why those artists were rude to you? Because you have red
hair?”
“Red
is a very powerful color,” a raspy voice said from behind both girls.
Lilith
and She-Aba jumped. They slowly turned to find Istulo hovering over them.
Wearing
the same white gown and orichalcum headband Lilith saw her dressed in before,
Istulo nodded slightly before she said, “Red represents the essence of life—if
we are drained of blood, we are drained of energy. The people of the Black Land
understand this, and therefore red is reserved only for their gods and
goddesses.”
Lilith
giggled. “Don’t tell She-Aba that, she’ll think she’s a goddess.”
Tagline:
There is the known and the
unknown. And then there is the unknowable.
Blurb:
A rumor around Atlantis whispers that
the mighty crystal has the power of resurrection. Fourteen-year-old Shu-Tu believes
this to be true and will do whatever it takes to bring her father back from the
dead. Recruiting two trustworthy classmates, and with the help of her beloved
teacher Thoth, Shu-Tu sets out to change her father’s fate, and right a wrong.
Instructed to meet Thoth at his
grotto, Shu-Tu and her friends are forced to flee underground, and must follow
the maze of passages to find another way out. There, they come across a
baboon-headed human hybrid possessing a rare firestone—one of six harvested
from the mighty crystal—which has the power to restore life. Shu-Tu agrees to
play the hybrid’s bizarre game to win the firestone, knowing that if she loses,
she loses her father forever.
Download link: http://sharonledwith.com/pub/The-Terrible-Mighty-Crystal.html
Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Series
Here’s a glimpse of the series overview:
Imagine a teenager possessing a
psychic ability and struggling to cope with this freakish power, all the while
trying to lead a normal life. Now, imagine being uprooted and forced to live in
a small tourist town where nothing much ever happens. It’s bores-ville from the
get-go. Welcome to Fairy Falls. Expect the unexpected…
Set in a small northern cottage community,
Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls, speaks to many of the important
issues facing teens today. With Fairy Falls as the backdrop that glues the
series together, each book is a stand-alone project with a different cast of
characters, one of whom possesses a unique psychic, supernatural, or prophetic
ability.
Lost and Found, Book One:
Tagline:
Fairy Falls was bores-ville from the get-go. Then the animals
started talking...
Blurb:
The Fairy
Falls Animal Shelter is in trouble. Money trouble. It’s up to an old calico
cat named Whiskey—a shelter
cat who has mastered the skill of observation—to find a new human pack leader so that their home will
be saved. With the help of Nobel, the leader of the shelter dogs, the animals
set out to use the ancient skill of telepathy to contact any human who bothers
to listen to them. Unfortunately for fifteen-year-old Meagan Walsh, she hears
them, loud and clear.
Forced to
live with her Aunt Izzy in the safe and quiet town of Fairy Falls, Meagan is
caught stealing and is sentenced to do community hours at the animal shelter
where her aunt works. Realizing Meagan can hear her, Whiskey realizes that
Meagan just might have the pack leader qualities necessary to save the animals.
Avoiding Whiskey and the rest of shelter animals becomes impossible for Meagan,
so she finally gives in and promises to help them. Meagan, along with her
newfound friends, Reid Robertson and Natalie Knight, discover that someone in
Fairy Falls is not only out to destroy the shelter, but the animals as well.
Can Meagan convince her aunt and co-workers that the animals are in danger? If
she fails, then all the animals’ voices will be silenced forever.
Excerpt:
“Silly, stupid humans!” Whiskey hissed.
Creeping through the ductwork was becoming harder on her old
bones. Layers of dust tickled her pink nose and made her facial whiskers twitch
incessantly. Her stomach retched at the stale odors. However, Whiskey, a
fifteen-year-old calico cat, ignored these annoyances and persevered. She had
to, knowing that she was the only link, the only form of communication, between
the cat floor and the dog floor at the Fairy Falls Animal Shelter. This was
what made her special, gave her life purpose. This quiet night was no
exception.
What the humans called a crisis had happened at the
shelter today and Whiskey had to relay this information to the canine pack
leader. Nearing the entrance above the dog floor, the thick fur on the back of
her neck rose. Some of the dogs she tolerated, some she abhorred. Her ears
flattened. Whiskey knew she would have to scale across the top of Mary Jane’s
gate in order to get to Nobel’s cage and deliver her report. She also knew to
be extra careful not to shake the little bells attached to her red collar that
would jingle out her presence. Reaching the opening, Whiskey extracted her long
claws and pushed the dusty register aside.
Looking down, she sighed, thankful that Mary Jane, a black and
white pit bull terrier, and a long time resident of the shelter, was asleep.
Carefully, Whiskey jumped down, balanced on the top of the fenced gate that
faced the hallway, and started to slink across it. Then she sneezed and her
bells jingled.
A growl and a snort sounded from below. “Who dares to wake
me?”
Whiskey peered down. Mary Jane’s eyes were rolled back, her
tongue hanging limply out one side of her mouth. A quilted blanket on the
cement floor was half-shredded and inches away lay a rubber toy, which would
normally be stuffed into Mary Jane’s powerful jaws to exercise the constant
frustration of being incarcerated for so long. Whiskey watched Mary Jane lunge
for the toy, shaking her thick head and neck in anger.
Whiskey leaned over into the cage and purred, “Someday, I hope
you choke on that thing.”
Mary Jane dropped the toy and lunged at the smug cat. Whiskey
had just enough time to recoil and land feet first on the hallway’s cement
floor. She groaned, feeling her arthritic back legs cave slightly. She was not
a kitten anymore, that was for sure. Mary Jane rattled the kennel door,
snapping, growling, and barking. Slobber ran down the white patch on her neck
and dribbled onto the floor, making it too slippery for her to balance on her
hind legs. She slipped and fell with a loud thump and knocked the water bowl,
spilling water all over. Whiskey flattened her ears and shook her head. This
dog could easily have been the pick of the litter when it came time to receive
the sleep needle, but since this shelter had a ‘no kill’ policy in place, all
of its residents, including Mary Jane, remained safe and alive.
Suddenly the kennel next to Mary Jane’s came alive and the one
after that. Whiskey heard a whimper from the cage down the hall where the new
dogs were kept. These were the dogs whose owners would either still rescue them
or would condemn them to live here in the shelter until they were adopted by a
new human.
“You sure know how to make an entrance, Whiskey.”
Whiskey’s ears pricked up. The right ear had been badly
frostbitten once upon a time, but her left ear was still intact. Half her face
was masked in black; the other half a mixture of white and orange. The rest of
her small body was a patchwork of black and orange fur, with the exception of a
white belly. She preened her whiskers, licking the pad of her front right paw
until she realized all she tasted was watered down bleach. Cringing, Whiskey
slowly sauntered over to Nobel’s kennel—the biggest—at the very end of the
hallway. She plopped her bottom on the cool concrete floor and stretched.
“You’re certainly a deep sleeper, Nobel. Are you sure you used
to be a watchdog?” Whiskey asked, preening the area above her yellow eyes.
There was a low growl, and then a high pitched bark. It was
Nobel’s way of laughing. “I’m part Husky, part Doberman, and part mystery mutt,
so sometimes I get all messed up about my job. Do I run as fast as I can or do
I stand and fight? It’s darned confounding, I say.”
Although it was dark, Whiskey could see the amusement in
Nobel’s light blue eyes. His fur was a mixture of black, tan, and grey, and
standing on all fours he would be at least three cats tall. Nobel’s kennel was
well-kept, with a thick, comfy blanket set up in front and a pan full of water
at the back. He’d been at the shelter for as long as she had, so Whiskey felt a
sense of oneness with Nobel, even though he was canine.
“I smell feline! Feline! Feline! Feline!” a dog from the
middle cage barked.
Nobel rolled his eyes. “You’re dreaming again, Louis. Go back
to sleep!”
Whiskey heard a snort from the big Rottweiler mix, followed by
a whine. “Dreaming? Hmm, yup, silly me. Must be dreaming. No felines on the dog
floor. Silly me.”
She heard Louis yawn, fart, and then settle back down on his
papered floor. Louis tended to pee in his kennel, so he wasn’t afforded the
luxury of a cushy blanket like Nobel’s.
“Dumb as wood, that one,” Nobel muttered.
“Yet he trusts you completely,” Whiskey mewed, scratching her
chin.
“That’s because I’m the pack leader. It’s not a choice, you
know.”

Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two:
Tagline:
The only witness left to testify against an unsolved
crime in Fairy Falls isn’t a person…
Blurb:
City born and bred, Hart Stewart possesses the
gift of psychometry—the psychic ability to discover facts about an event or
person by touching inanimate objects associated with them. Since his mother’s
death, seventeen-year-old Hart has endured homelessness, and has learned ways
to keep his illiteracy under wraps. He eventually learns of a great-aunt living
in Fairy Falls, and decides to leave the only life he’s ever known for an
uncertain future.
Diana MacGregor lives in Fairy Falls. Her mother
was a victim of a senseless murder. Only Diana’s unanswered questions and her
grief keeps her going, until Hart finds her mother’s lost ring and becomes a
witness to her murder.
Through Hart’s psychic power, Diana gains hope
for justice. Their investigation leads them into the corrupt world threatening
Fairy Falls. To secure the town’s future, Hart and Diana must join forces to
uncover the shocking truth, or they risk losing the true essence of Fairy Falls
forever.
Excerpt:
For over a year now, Diana had wondered, prayed, and longed
for any information regarding her mother’s murder. And now this guy shows
up, who claims he has these psychic powers that can communicate with objects. Objects
like mom’s ring. Diana pressed her lips together. An object that had been
there, at the scene of the crime, a viable witness to a heinous act. It all
seemed so far-fetched, so out there. Yet what did Hart have to gain from all
this? This wasn’t a fortune telling session, this was real. So was Hart for
real?
“Who are you, anyway?” Brook asked. “The sorcerer’s
apprentice?”
Hart threw her a strange look. “No. My name’s Hart Stewart.
I’m Gertie Ellis’s great-nephew.”
Diana snapped out of her self-induced trance. Gertie Ellis?
Not the same Gertie Ellis who was Dan Boone’s only alibi? No. This is all too
much. It was information overload to the power of ten. Diana thought she
heard Donovan mumble ‘Uh-oh’ as he took a step back. He swung the golf club behind
his back, as if anticipating her next move, but Donovan would have never have
guessed what was about to happen next, because what came out of her mouth
shocked even Diana. “Name your price, I’ll pay you whatever you ask. You can
even have my car, if you want it.”
Donovan dropped the golf club.
Brook gasped.
Hart snapped his head back. “Pay me? Pay me for what?”
“To find my mother’s killer,” Diana replied. “Let’s face
facts. You’re the only person who has these special psychic connections and no
one else has been able to solve her murder. Look, I’ve got all the information
on my mother’s murder, I’ve kept impeccable files, know the suspects, and can
help you get anything you’d need. What do you say?”
“Your...your car?” Donovan muttered.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Brook asked, concerned.
Diana held her hand out toward Hart. “Do we have a deal?”
Dumbfounded, Hart looked at Diana’s offered hand, then glanced
back to her face, searching for a hint of sincerity. He nodded. “I’ll help you,
if you help me.”
Startled, Diana arched her thin, fair brows. “Help you? How?”
Hart took a deep breath. “My mother was murdered too. In
Toronto, just over a year ago, in our apartment. Nothing was taken. She had no
enemies to speak of and we weren’t rich. All I have is a letter my great-aunt
kept from when mom was my age. Maybe it will help answer some questions, maybe
it won’t.”
Diana nodded. “So what does it say?”
Hart cast his eyes to the ground. His face reddened, his hands
balled at his sides. He took another deep breath. “I...I don’t know,” he
replied, his voice cracking. “I can’t—”
Diana inclined her head. “Can’t what?”
Hart’s eyes locked with Diana’s. His chin trembled as he
whispered, “Read.”
Silence, except for the sudden, chilly gust of wind coming off
of the lake.
Donovan broke it. “Dude, did you just that say you can’t—”
“Donovan!” Brook elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t be so
insensitive!”
Donovan rubbed his side, and nodded. “Dude, you’re
illiterate?”
Brook rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, you
bonehead.”
Diana ignored her friends and got straight to the heart of the
matter. “Then I’ll teach you to read. We’ll help each other. That way, I’ll get
what I want, and you’ll get what you want.”
Free Writing Resource available as a PDF on my website: