Of Dreams and Daring


Of Mist and Magic cover design by Daniel Pennystone

Fairy tales…our childhood imaginations thrived on a steady diet of dragons and danger, legends and lore, myths and magic, perilous quests and forbidden love…We never outgrow our fondness for the fantastical. Our favorite tales evolve as our creative outlets expand. Alice and Wonderland fell down the futuristic rabbit hole of The Matrix, Pinocchio grew into the cybertronic shoes of Spielberg’s, A.I., and Shrek spun a pop culture phenomenon across the fairy tale realm. There have been countless classic retellings across generations–what are some of YOUR favorites?

Send us your twist on a classic tale, inspired by composer Phillip Lober’s enchanting ‘The Eternal Rest Of A Ronin’, by December 15th for a chance to join ReallySlowMotion Music & Sound Design, Epic Music Vn, a talented team of authors, and my aspiring young Elevate writers, in a cross-industry collaborative, international anthology, where stories OF MIST AND MAGIC come to life under the spell of composers, Ivan Torrent, Fran Soto, Phillip Lober, Vivien Chebbah, Cesc Vilà Aulina, Michael Maas, Christoph Allerstorfer, Valentin Boomes, and many more! Proceeds of the Amazon exclusive ebook will be donated to Elevate Life and Art studios, an amazing youth organization here in Asheville, NC. Enter HERE!

DCF 1.0

I want to take this moment to encourage everyone out there to follow their dreams, their passions, their inner-voice that whispers wondrous tales of creative freedom! It’s never too late to find a more rewarding path, one that instills a sense of accomplishment beyond anything you’ve experienced. Be daring, be bold, be brave! Take chances, take a step forward, take on the world!

I’ve run the gamut of occupations, from bar tending during college *this fact will surprise no one*, to donning a lab coat in genetic engineering research and pharmaceutical development. I traded my white coat for a Special Agent training badge in forensics when recruited by the FBI–a dream job that would have swallowed my life whole, had I not come to my senses *I have a problem with authority, oh, and running*. So, I traded my badge for a suit, traveling near and far as a scientific consultant for big pharma–not the job for me *though the expense account and company car were nice perks, it wasn’t worth the daily aggravation*. Even as a marketing machine, pulling in a six-figure salary, I felt little satisfaction and zero reward.

My career went on hiatus whilst I raised two beautiful little girls. Though the joys of motherhood were beyond fulfilling, a part of me still yearned for something…more.

It wasn’t until 2013 that I FINALLY discovered the RIGHT path–one paved with words and music, creative adventures and endless imaginative possibilities *and coffee, lots of steamy, satisfying coffee*. So you see, it took me AWHILE before I found my calling, and now I can’t imagine doing anything else.

Anyone can do this, anyone can FIND that something that excites them, a passion that drives them. You just have to not let your dreams stay dreams…


IWSG, a community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh, meets the first Wednesday of every month. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find  everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!


Of Mist And Magic


Of Mist and Magic

Enter the world Of Mist And Magic, where fairy tales are reimagined under the influence of Epic Music Vn & Really Slow Motion‘s enchanting music! Submit your own twist on a classic fairy tale, inspired by composer, Phill Lober‘s ‘The Eternal Rest of a Ronin‘ (featuring gifted violinist, Kelly Ryu), and YOU could win a spot in the upcoming Of Mist And Magic anthology! Ends December 1st! Click HERE for details.

Hello writerly gang, thank you for swinging by! As you can see, there’s another exciting composer collaboration in the works! I’m dividing my time between several music events, freelance film work and 3 novels, all due for publishing in 2015, which means my coffee intake has increased exponentially and sleep has taken a back seat to productivity. So, if I seem more slap-happy than usual, you’ll know why:) Feel free to send back up!

TOL Cover_FinalWhile you’re here, help us support Tina Downey’s education fund for her boys by purchasing the tribute anthology, Tree of Life!


IWSG, a community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh, meets the first Wednesday of every month. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find  everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

A Movement of Hope

be the change you wish to see in the world

A movement of hope has swept across the globe in the most successful charity event in history! Waves of kindness and empathy have raised over $106 million for ALS–funds that will make the difference between life & death for thousands of souls suffering in the deadly grip of this debilitating disease. 

The overwhelming worldwide support shows the remarkable potential for humanity to unite for a common good. With this massive collective effort, the possibilities of what we can accomplish are endless. It is my fervent hope that this phenomena will inspire us all to work together in a common call to action!  WE can truly be the change we wish to see in the world!

Peter Frates’ story–the driving force behind the “ALS Ice Bucket Challenge”
Support Gregory Kenoyer (Shannon Kenoyer Lawrence’s awesome Dad) in Denver Walk to Defeat ALS
Donate to ALS Association

In the video clip below, where I met the frigid end of a wine bucket in Biltmore’s front lawn (the setting for my YA novel series, Echoes of Olympus), I challenged…

The Entire IWSG

Along with Biltmore Estate, Hans Zimmer AND my fellow IMAGINE team members, EpicMusicVn, Koke Núñez GómezReally Slow Motion, Epic North Music, audiomachine, & Two Steps From Hell!

Grab a bucket, donate $$, and join us in this historic movement of change!

Tina's Sunflowers at Sunset  Sunflowers for Tina

Join us on September 8th for a community memorial tribute celebrating the spirit of Tina Downey

Epic IMAGINE ALS Ice Bucket Challenges


IWSG, a community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh, meets the first Wednesday of every month. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find  everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

IMAGINE the Possibilities

Facebook Banner FINAl

The biggest Epic Music event of the year is coming to a close this Saturday, August 9th! In celebration of YouTube powerhouse, EpicMusicVn‘s 2 year anniversary, we gathered leaders of the epic music industry, Two Steps From Hellaudiomachine, Really Slow Motion Music, Epic North Music, & graphic designer, Koke Núñez Gómez, for an unprecedented, global collaboration, where writers, artists, video editors and visionaries have the chance to create something amazing! IMAGINE the possibilities HERE!

It’s been a VERY busy summer, with exciting events and projects coming to a close and many more hovering on the horizon. A major shift in the realm of responsibility happened this week, when my two little girls (1st & 4th graders, previously homeschooled) were accepted into a brand new Charters school, named IMAGINE — I took this as a major sign that we’re traveling down the right path!

Though I’ll miss my kiddos, my days are now FREE for WRITING and freelance film industry projects! I’ve issued a strict final draft deadline this fall for my YA fantasy novel series, Architects of Illusion (Echoes of Olympus, #1). This semester is already booked with collaborations and another round of epic writing, where I’ll mentor gifted teens as they learn to embrace this year’s theme of COURAGE!

An Act of Courage

 First, they conquered Outer Space….
Now, they bring destruction to the promised land…
The Viking Warriors are coming to ARCADIA!

ARCADIA Cover_Koke

Welcome to THE CONQUERORS, a Steampunk Viking flash fiction challenge for the industry release, ARCADIA (produced & published by Really Slow Motion). Pulling inspiration from the exclusive industry track, The Song of the World Tree, by brilliant composer, Tapsa Kuusniemi, and the stunning album cover, by gifted graphic designer & composer, Koke Núñez Gómez, FORGE an epic tale (under 500 words) that conquers the imagination! Submit your entries in the comments section of the Contest Page by August 9th, midnight EST!


JETTA – I’d Love to Change the World

Sixteen-year-old Hutchinson McQueen is trapped in a dysfunctional family. Shackled by poor vision and poor reading skills, he squeaks through classes with his talent for eavesdropping and memorizing what he hears. After another suspension from school and suffering through one of his mother’s violent attacks, he escapes to a friend’s house that turns out to be a meth lab. The lab is raided and Hutch lands in juvenile detention. When the court sentences him to six months in a new juvenile program, he meets a teacher with Alzheimer’s who will change his life and hers.

Now available from Evernight Teen!

Enter to WIN a free copy or Amazon spending $$ HERE!

Add to your WANT To READ shelf on Goodreads


IWSG, a community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh, meets the first Wednesday of every month. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find  everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

Reflections of a Dreamer

InsecureWritersSupportGroupIWSG meets the first Wednesday of every month. A community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find  everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

It’s fitting that today is IWSG. Seeing as how Alex has been an unfailing supporter since my online debut back in March of 2013, it’s no surprise that he’s a winner of a Biltmore-themed commenter prize!

And many composer collaborations later, I’ve finally cajoled Alex into joining my latest EPIC event with audiomachine! More details on the PHENOMENA project will be announced this FRIDAY! We’re accepting writing & art entries for audiomachine’sEpic Heroes” contest through May 15th, so tap into your imaginations and join the fun!A-to-Z Reflection [2014]

I want to send out my heartfelt thanks to everyone who stopped by during the crazy month that is April’s A to Z Challenge to take a peek at my upcoming Biltmore-inspired YA novel “Architects of Illusion“! This novel series is my biggest, most ambitious project to date. Needless to say, I was anxious to hear feedback. I truly value your comments and the time you spent in my world. The show of encouragement from gracious readers & inspiring composers alike have bolstered my passion for this story and will continue to push me towards achieving my DREAM!

Special thanks to my additional commenting winners–you guys rock! (Shoot me an email with your address to receive your Biltmore-goodies:)

Michelle Wallace

C. Lee McKenzie

SD Neeve


Yolanda Renee

To say April was a busy month would be the understatement of the year. Between novel edits, running an international album promotion for PHENOMENA, teaching an AMAZING group of gifted teens through Elevate Life & Art, planning a big book trailer, in collaboration with audiomachine, for Grammarly’s groundbreaking GrammoWriMo Novel, “The Lonely Wish-Giver” (which I also contributed to), AND juggling commenting/minion duties for the incredible #TeamDamyanti (muwah!)–I was ready to drown myself in a barrel of Biltmore wine!

With well over 2K participants, the Challenge was a huge success! There were so many awesome posts I enjoyed, and many more I didn’t have the chance to read. I hope to catch up on what I missed over the next few months. I loved meeting new folks and exchanging witty fun with familiar “faces”. You’re all welcome here anytime, where the bar, the banter, and the imagination, are always open.



Create an original superhero for a chance to be PUBLISHED in an audiomachine ebook!

Open APRIL 15th through MAY 15th.

Let It Go

InsecureWritersSupportGroupIWSG meets the first Wednesday of every month. A community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find  everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

I’ve learned a valuable lesson recently. The unforgiving mistress of time management has dealt yet another backhand of reality, forcing me to reassess my priorities. With Ash Wednesday now upon us, I’ve decided to surrender something I enjoy immensely that will appease the fickle forces of time.

No, it’s not coffee — that would be blasphemous and barmy. Our society doesn’t need another non-functioning citizen in its corner. I’m talking about distractions. You know, the shiny new ideas, fun flashers flash fictions, virtual social gatherings with an open tab and cheeky challenges that polish your banter. I really enjoy all these tempting diversions. They pair nicely with my cup of motivation coffee. But, they don’t help me accomplish my main objectives.

In the wise words of the brilliant composer team, Robert Lopez and his wife, Kristen Anderson-Lopez, whose enchanting song “Let It Go” took home an Oscar:

“It’s time to see what I can do,
to test the limits and break through.”

Which, roughly translated from Disney-speak, means it’s time for me to let go of shiny diversions and really focus my abilities on bringing to life an exciting novel series — the details of which, I’ll be releasing on March 21st for the A to Z Theme Reveal.

FINAL A to Z Theme Reveal

Why am I participating and helping out with #TeamDamyanti in this year’s A to Z Challenge? Aside from the incredible, meaningful connections that were made during my first challenge last year, it was the driving force behind my first novel. I’m channeling that same passion this year into an even bigger project! The Challenge is far from a distraction — it’s incentive to capture the imaginations of a global audience. Daily interactions with readers and fellow authors fuel my desire to deliver a unique and memorable experience — to push the boundaries and see what I can do!

Beyond the BindingSpeaking of incentives, I have a special prize for those lovely folks who help support the much needed relief efforts in the Philippines and leave reviews for the Composers for Relief collaborative ebook, “Beyond the Binding“, by April 1st. One lucky reviewer will be awarded immortality! And when I say immortality, I mean capturing your likeness and name as an enduring fictional character in my current novel! Trust me — you’ll want to be a part of this!

Available on Amazon & Smashwords in all ebook formats and listed on Goodreads


How do you focus on your main objective and avoid distractions? What’s your motivation behind joining the A to Z Challenge? Are you interested in being immortalized in fiction by leaving a review?

Beyond the Binding Composers for Relief Companion Collection Cover Reveal

InsecureWritersSupportGroupIWSG meets the first Wednesday of every month. A community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

In December, we launched a global campaign to support the relief effort in regions of the Philippines devastated by Super Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan). The collaboration began with Peter Ebbinghaus and the brilliant music of over 30 composers hailing from 16 countries, giving rise to the inspiring Composers for Relief album. An amazing cast of 28 authors added their voice to the music, breathing life into words woven with hope for humanity.

Even now, the collaboration has captured the creative minds of film students at Limkokwing University of Creative Technology in Malaysia, whose GLOBAL VISUAL HARMONIES project, under the direction of Ray Kril, adds a stunning element of hope in the form of short films inspired by the album. A documentary of the relief efforts is also underway. Watch the magic unfold, HERE.

It is an incredible experience when a community spans crafts and continents to make a positive difference in the world. There’s no limit to what we can accomplish together. I appreciate, beyond measure, those of you who joined me for the journey.

We dedicate this collection of hope to those who have lost their loved ones. Though we are scattered across the globe, we are connected to your anguish. You are not alone…

beyondthebinding_cover_finalBeyond the Binding

Ebook Available NOW on Amazon & Smashwords

Coming Soon to iTunes, B&N, Kobo, Sony & Diesel

Cover designed by Jennifer Redstreake Geary

All proceeds of the Composers for Relief  album and Beyond the Binding will go to Gawad Kalinga (“give care”) and GVSP (Gualandi Volunteer Service Program), to support the relief efforts for victims of the deadliest natural disaster in Philippines’ history, Super Typhoon Yolanda.

Embark on an exciting journey Beyond the Binding of the imagination with 29 authors from across the globe, in a groundbreaking collaboration where music meets fiction. Surrender to soaring compositions as they surge through the veins of every story, capturing the triumphant pulse of the notes in heart pounding sci fi, enchanting fantasy and gripping slices of realism.


Enter to WIN copies of the Beyond the Binding ebook and Composers for Relief album during Crystal Collier’s VALENTINES GIVEAWAY celebrating the release of MOONLESS in print!


Composers for Relief Album Cover

Composers for Relief

Album available on ITunes, Amazon, CDBaby & Spotify



by Samantha Redstreake Geary

Inspired by the Composers for Relief Album

There are secrets behind these sleeping trees. I can feel them prickling up my spine, itching for me to find them.

A twinge of pain tugs at my arm, pulling my gaze to the bright crimson drops dripping from my fingers, their warmth sinking into white powder.

I cradle my wrist, wincing from the pull of tender skin. I’ve ripped the wound wider in my haste, ensuring another scar. The deepest marks of my past go beyond the binding of flesh and blood, threatening to swallow me whole as I chase the dying breath of a ghost…


“It’s a false lead. I’ve checked it out. The place is empty,” Dumakulem throws his hands up, waving off the surrounding agents. “Missed all the excitement, Peter,” he slapped me on the back. “Aside from an astonishing amount of rodents subletting a Steinway, there’s nothing of interest down there.”

“They’re banned, regardless of condition,“ I replied, motioning for the shadow hovering near the entrance. “I’ll have the handlers bring it back to headquarters.”

Dumakulem reached for my arm, pressing it down slowly. “That won’t be necessary. There’s no threat. Unless the rats take up lessons, it’s worthless.” He flashed an easy grin, but not before I saw a trace of something else flicker behind his eyes.


He turned from the stairs, leading me to the doorway. “Let’s grab a bite on the way back. I’m hungry enough to eat that piece of drywall you call food.”

“It’s a Quinoa bar,” I stepped in beside him, unease tightening around my collar. “It’s about time you eat something besides bacon. Although, your body would most likely go into shock.”

I told myself it was nothing. He wasn’t the same since he lost his daughter. Death has a way of changing people. I should know.

Dumakulem let out a raucous laugh. “There’s never a Right Time to eat that cra—”

A deafening crack split the air.

The ground beneath us rumbled and shifted, shaking loose its skin. The mouth of the building stretched, its jagged teeth threatening to snap shut, the floor of its tongue rippling back and forth, throwing us from our feet.

The earth quaked, pitching bodies and debris into clouds of dust. In seconds, we were adrift on an ocean of crumbled concrete and shattered shards, the bones of the building laid bare.

“Dumakulem?” I shouted, coughing on the choking haze. Something stirred in the rubble—a snatch of red glistening in a sea of grey.

Dumakulem’s body lie broken under a beam, his breath ragged. Ruby rivulets poured from his mouth, pooling on the ashen floor.

“P—Pete,” he rasped, eyes wild.

I tore at the metal beast biting through his ribs, my flesh ripping on its claws, but it was hopelessly anchored to the earth.

 “Aurrrrra,” he moaned.

I bent over his bloodied face, powerless to save him. “I’m gonna get you out of here…just breath…keep breathing.”

“F-find…Aur…ora,” he pleaded.

“Aurora?” I asked, desperate to understand. “I don’t

A sickening crunch drowned my words as his chest caved under unforgiving steel.


The Phoenix hums near my ear, its wings flapping fervently. The steady scarlet pulse of its throat echoing the drumming dread of my uncertain heart. I’ve come this far in search of answers that may be my undoing.

A faint amber glow flickers in the frozen valley.  An unregistered dwelling in a forbidden territory basking in a betrayal its isolation hoped to conceal.   

I sync my synaptic sites to Moonside, the molecular machinery linking our thoughts, our senses. A hybrid Trochilidae, the part bird, part micro-mechanical system curls its icy fingers around my mind, its stannic presence flooding my mouth. I close my eyes and look through those of the bird, guiding it across the arctic expanse Into the Unknown corners of a life I thought I once knew.

It slips inside soundlessly, scanning each room within the slumbering walls with rapid precision. The house is empty, save for the startling evidence of treason scattered in a single room, digging deeper into the fresh wounds of a fraudulent friendship.

I cut a path through the sea of snow, breaching the boundary easily. Too easily. I trained him better than this. Dumakulem was careless—believing these savage mountains alone would guard his secrets.

I cross the threshold into air heavy with cinnamon and burning pine,a strangely familiar scent tied to the thread of a memory wound tight beneath my rib.


The chasm between us had grown, the silence thick with regret. Celestia left months ago, her sorrow sliding further down a path I couldn’t follow.

Until the night I came home to an inviting fire and foreign swirls of sugar-spun air.

Celestia floated from the kitchen, an apparition of silken skirts and copper curls. “I’m baking a pie. Apple,” she smiled warmly, offering a steaming steel mug, her hands wrapped tight around the flashing red words PRETENDING TO BE AWAKE, a gift from Dumakalem.

“What’s this?” I asked, voice trembling with confusion and relief.

A Cup of Peace.”

In the space between melancholy and madness, she changed. The past was paved over with New Days, full of unexpected, unexplained behavior. I never dared to question where she’d been or mention the alarming nature of her actions.

Music was outlawed nearly a century ago, the idea of it fading into obscurity. Only highly disciplined agents were exposed to the arts, in order to recognize the threat in the field. And there I was, haunted by a forbidden melody that spilled from the lips of my wife when she thought herself alone.

I was plagued by the archaic words she strung together in the sighs of sleep, their meaning bound to the dusty breath of books banned long ago.

But I was willing to look past all this. I would have done anything, risked everything, to give her the Beautiful Life she sought. I fooled myself into thinking she was safe.


“I’m afraid there’s No More.”

I whirl around to face the voice cutting into my thoughts. A woman emerges from the shadows, a storm of silver spirals framing a network of lines that traced her long life across olive skin, her flowing flowery shift at odds with the frigid climate.  

I shoot Moonside a disapproving glare. It’s sensors must be faulty. I couldn’t afford to risk a mission for an inferior Phoenix, regardless of sentiment.

“No more?” I ask.

“Pie. It was apple.”

Icy fingers skitter along my skin. “I’m not here for…pie.”

“Clearly, you don’t know what you’re missing,” the woman cocks her head, studying me. “Only a handful of us left with the skill to bake one.”

She frowns at my dangling arm. “You’re bleeding on my rug.”

I glance down, following the ruby trail that bloomed into the floor. The woman motions towards the kitchen. “There’s a towel by the sink I never liked. Feel free to bleed on that.”

I cross the room and grab the cloth, tying it around the gaping gash. Most people cower in the presence of an agent. Her ease was disarming. “I’m here on behalf of the Imperium, investigating allegations against—”

“My son,” the woman interrupts, chin held high, her words pinning me with unsettling candor. “I know why you’re here, Peter. I’ve come a long way to speak with you.”

She must have traveled from the Philippines for the funeral. “I’m sorry…Mrs.—”

“Call me Idiyanale,” she insists, settling into a threadbare seat facing the dying fire.

I move closer to Idiyanale, a shimmering wave washing over her form. I steady myself against the hearth stones. The blood loss was catching up to me. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But, I can’t ignore what’s behind those doors,” I cast a meaningful glance behind her.

Idiyanale’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Why risk imprisonment by staying here?”

“For the fading memory of a dying breed who believes in Fighting Back,” she sighs.

That was not the answer I was expecting.

“Don’t look so surprised, “ her keen eyes register my shock. “The urge to fight for what we believe in is woven into the fabric of Our Nature. We’re meant to defend the ones we love—to ensure our future. The Imperium can’t possibly contain the will of a people, even after ripping it from our ribs.”

“The Imperium will never lose contr—”

“It’s already begun.”

In a world where everyone’s free will, with the exception of a select few from the ruling class, is extracted by the age of two, encountering a resistant citizen was unheard of. Until a year ago, when a spark of unrest ignited a raging inferno that consumed everything I held dear…


Celestia was captured in the currents of the uprising, its hungry flames licking the life from her bones as it consumed the Extraction headquarters. The Phoenix found her in the smoldering smoke, but it was too late.

I waited by my wife’s side, her life bound by a single, silken thread, its sustaining light pulsing with the promise that This Is Not the End. Through it all, Moonside never left her side, as if lamenting her slow descent into darkness. She favored that bird, believing it was different than the other hybrids. You’re a hard soul to save, she’d say, but that doesn’t stop it from trying.

It wasn’t me who needed saving.

Seven days later, she broke the surface of her fitful sleep only to plunge into the seas of oblivion. All I had left were memories and mourning bird. A Requiem for a Queen followed, the ruler of my life locked inside a cold casket, a snaking line of inky figures shrouded in grief whispering God Is With You, grinding my barely beating heart further beneath a hard packed layer of vengeance.

Despite a chain of raids and interrogations, the Insurgence would Rise Again and again, growing steadily stronger. Incidents increased exponentially in the past year, triggering riots across the country. The Imperium dedicated all field agents to uncovering the origin of the uprising.


I shake myself from the shackles of memories I long to forget. “Extraction maintains the peace,” I argue, “There’s no need to fight. The Imperium ensures our safety through submission.”

“The Imperium’s motives for extracting our free will lie somewhere on the Continuum between pacifism and brutality.”

“It’s the resistance that killed your son,” I swallow the acidic anger lodged in my throat. “And my wife.”

Idiyanale shakes her head, eyes a reflecting pool of pity. “I’m sorry…about Celestia. But her blood is on the Imperium’s hands.”

“You’re treading a dangerous line

“That line was crossed the moment they first tore the possibilities from a child’s Existence. This is what Dumakulem fought against. What Celestia hoped to conquer. Honor their memory by listening to your heart over your orders,” Idiyanale pleads.

“What do you know of my wife?” I demand.

“That she never stopped loving you…she loves you still. Your Heart Is Brave, Peter. Even now, she knows you’ll make the right choice, though it won’t be easy. The right path never is.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re—”

Spes Et Libertas.”

The last time I heard those words, they were slipping from the sleeping lips of my wife. “Wh—what did you say?”

“Hope and Freedom. This is the pledge of the resistance. Celestia was one of us. ”

I feel the tattered tether to sanity snap. “No…that’s impossible.”

“Celestia came to us, broken, fragile. She felt lost in her own skin. We all go through it, before the Awakening.”

“I don’t understand.”

“With the proper catalyst, The Power of Will can heal. It takes time to knit the fabric of our being back together. When your wife returned, she was—”


“Whole.” Idiyanale beamed. “Her soul found Rebirth quicker than most. She had something to live for. She believed the best—”

The Best Is yet to Come.” I whisper, falling into the chair behind me. “That’s what she said to me, that first night. She said I needed to have faith. I don’t even know what that is…” I throw my arms up. “But she was wrong. There was nothing but pain in the end.”

Idiyanale closes her eyes. “We can’t always save the ones we love, but you never truly lose them. Their spirits watch over you when you need it most.” She gazes off into some far off place. “The day my son fell to his death…there was someone else who needed saving.”

Her words sink in, drowning in the pool of my thoughts. It took me a full minute to realize someone else had walked in the door. Moonside was frantically fluttering near the edge of my nose, its wings grazing my skin in warning.


Dumakulem’s wife approaches cautiously, a small figure peeks from behind her hip. Ana reaches an arm protectively around the little girl, nudging her towards a door. “Go on. Give us a minute.”

The girl’s ebony curls bounce against her shoulders as she skips from the room.

Ana gives me a cursory glance, her emerald eyes guarded. “You look like hell.”

“It’s been an eventful day,” I sigh, gesturing towards the window where crystalline fingers climb up the glass. “I’m not overly fond of dangerous secrets…or snow.”

“We’re not overly fond of visitors.” She walks to the hearth, picking up an iron rod to poke at the pulsing ashes. “Dumakulem thought we’d be safe here.” A raven curtain falls across her face as she leans over to feed the fleeting flames a bite of wood. “The Imperium mustn’t find us, Peter. You have to understand–”

“How can I possibly understand all this, Ana? You know the penalty for treason!” I jump from the chair and snatch her arm, forcing her to face me. “You risk your life for…for what?”

“For that One spark of Hope.”

“Is that how you turned Celestia?” I accuse.

Ana flinches. “We never intended to hurt anyone.” She confesses, flames dancing in her gaze. “She was…suffering, Peter. Just as we had only a few years before. We saw the signs. We knew how to help her.”

“What are you saying? That she was…sick?”

“Some of us can feel the phantom limb of our extraction.” Ana clutches her chest, eyes wide with wonder. “When nurtured, somehow it…mends itself. We become whole again. But the healing process is…painful. After,” her eyes grow dark, “the realization of what was stolen from us is…unbearable.”

Ana lays her palm against the cage of my heart. “We were never meant to be mindless machines, surrendering our choices, our freedom, to a corrupt few. We were designed for so much more than this.”

Snatches of a haunting melody slip through the cracks of a closed door. Recognition pulls me like an invisible thread, beckoning me. I brush past Ana and open the door.

Antiquated relics wink from walls in glistening gold and burnished browns. They curve into corners with strings stilled in stands. In the center, is the girl, her delicate hands flying across a blur of black and white, flooding the room with a familiar song.

Something inside my chest stirs.

Ana edges behind me. “Dumakulem brought home a harp from one of the first raids, too exhausted to haul it to headquarters in the dead of night. The next morning, we found her plucking notes from the strings as if she’d done it a thousand times. She wasn’t yet two.” Ana walks along the walls, her fingers brushing over each polished surface to the memories beneath. “No matter what he brought home, she could play it…beautifully.”

“Who is she?”

Ana faces me, her hands cupping my shoulders. “We couldn’t bring her in for extraction, not after that. She’s special, Peter.”

“She’s your daughter?” I clutch the door frame, the realization stealing my breath. “The one who…died?”

Ana drops her hands to her side, her expression fearful. “I’m sorry, Peter. We had no choice. He didn’t want to lie to you.” She shakes her head, eyes pleading for me to accept the impossible. “We couldn’t afford to be discovered. She’s an instrument of the Renaissance. Her music…it…changes people.”

“She’s the source of the uprising…” I fall back, lurching away from her, away from a truth I couldn’t bear to hear. “Are you insane? Your resurrected daughter is being hunted by every agent in the Imperium! By ME!”

Ana charges towards me, conviction burning in fearless eyes. “Aurora is a beacon for A New Dawn. I need you to help us. I’m asking you to protect her. Please, Peter…”

“Aurora,” I murmur—the name that’s haunted me, that drove me to this place. “The raid,” I grasp the full meaning behind Dumakulem’s plea. “She was there.”

Ana nods. “She made it out of the building’s basement without a scratch. No one knows how she survived.”

“Someone else needed saving…” I whisper, echoing the words of Idiyanale. “Dumakulem’s mother. Where—” I search around me. “Where is she?”

Ana shakes her head, confusion wrinkling her brow. “She’s gone.” Ana reaches into her pocket and pulls out a sleek silver device. “Idiyanale was killed in the same explosion that took Celestia. They were there together.” She calls up a three-dimensional image of smiling faces in an animated summer scene. “This was taken a few hours before they left for the protest. They were…very close.”

There, in the center of the crowd, is my wife, looking so…alive. Standing by her is a woman wearing the same flowing, flowery frock I’d seen only moments ago.

I stumble against the wall and slide to the floor.

“Peter?” Ana crouches down in front of me, her hands gripping my arms.

A laugh climbs up my throat. “She came a long way to speak with me…”

Ana’s eyes swim before me, weary with worry. I should worry. I’m losing my mind.

“Who came a long way, Peter?”

 Pain and loss collide, coursing through my veins, consuming everything in its path. “She wanted me to know…Celestia loved me…loves me…still.” I steady my spinning head against my knees as the music lays waste to the remains of sanity.  

Moonside perches on my shoulder, its beak nudging my neck.

Suddenly, a blanket of silence falls over me, deafening in its emptiness. I sense a small weight settle beside me on the floor, surrounding me in cinnamon. I dip my head to look at the little girl with Dumakulem’s eyes that flicker from me to the Phoenix.

She strokes the bird’s glowing ruby chest. “Hello, Moonside. Thank you for bringing Peter.” It glances briefly my way before hopping onto her finger. Traitor.

Aurora tilts her head, studying me. “Don’t be sad, Peter. She wouldn’t want you to be sad.” Aurora gently traces her finger along the path of liquid sorrow staining my cheek. “She wanted you to hear it…the song I wrote for her. She asked me to play the Hymn of Faith for you…before she died.”

I swallow a sob.

“Can you feel it?” Aurora asks.

“What’s…happening to me?”

Aurora lays her small palm against my chest, a knowing smile lighting her face.

“You’re Awakening.”


© 2014 Samantha Redstreake Geary

Whole Made Of Pieces

InsecureWritersSupportGroupIWSG meets the first Wednesday of every month. A community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

Whole Made Of Pieces – Jonsi

We can instantly connect to another human being clear across the world and share in their trials and tribulations. We can read something stirring from another continent. We can hear the music of emotions pour from across the sea. We can see a breathtaking rendering from beyond our boundaries. This global community goes beyond physical distance–it transcends our spirits. We are linked by our hopes and dreams, by our fears and faults, by our need to matter.

We all matter.

Never stop reaching out to each other, helping each other, guiding each other. Someone, somewhere is in need of a meal, a bed, a laugh, a hug, a shoulder to cry on…to lean on. Our thoughtfulness, our acknowledgment can make all the difference.

There is no wisdom greater than kindness.

To my wise dragon friend, Al Diaz, I promise to be a powerful piece of this amazing whole–this community built upon compassion and respect. I will strive to make a positive difference in the lives of those I touch, whether across the sea or beyond our boundaries.

Golden Scale AwardWhat will you strive for this holiday season?

More Deadlines than Lifelines

InsecureWritersSupportGroupIWSG meets the first Wednesday of every month. A community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Visit the Insecure Writer’s Support Group website and database! You’ll find everything from writing to marketing, along with encouragement and support!

I think every writer, on any given day, wishes they had a clone. I’m entertaining the idea of renovating our master closet into a lab, where I’m free to practice my illegal cloning skills–take that, government drones! There’s rarely enough time to *fill in the blank* and write. With multiple exciting projects vying for attention, I’m struggling with striking a balance between the creative process and my domestic duties.

Laundry is piled high enough to conceal family members. No one’s allowed to run through the kitchen, for fear of toppling the tower of dirty dishes. Our border collie is constantly kicking up dust bunnies the size of small children–the ones normally concealed under the deepest recesses of the furniture. And, I’m pretty sure there’s a few trick-or-treaters lost in the high grass that is our front yard. I’m clearly NOT as passionate about housecleaning as I am about writerly things.

Need I mention the succubus that is social media. I’ve just recently succumbed to Twitter. There’s an amusing story behind my Twitter initiation, one involving mistaken identity and a possible clone in CA, but that’s a tale best told over wine. I understand its usefulness, but there’s a learning curve in the land of tweets, not unlike a visit to a village filled with severe ADD sufferers speaking Pig Latin.


Guess which bird I am.

So, should any lovely writerly folks have a few golden nuggets of time-management knowledge and/ or helpful tweety-bird advice, feel free to deposit them here:)


Realms FaireIn the meantime, stay tuned for REALMS FAIRE, kicking off November 11th through the 15th! Led by the brilliant, Mary Pax! There will be 9 fun events with chances to WIN awesome prizes, everyday! I’ll be hosting a music-inspired event with bff and critique partner, Amy Willoughby-Burle and audiomachine, for their newest public release, EXISTENCE! I wrote the commercial blurb for this amazing album by composer Kevin Rix, and we’re ridiculously excited to share it next week! There will be multiple contests/ writing challenges on FB, Twitter and our blogs, with several signed EXISTENCE albums up for grabs:)


A taste of things to come…

Many Branches, One Tree

InsecureWritersSupportGroupIWSG meets the first Wednesday of every month. A community of brilliant writers led by Alex J. Cavanaugh.

Inspiring Soundtrack: Audiomachine – Tree of Life

For this month’s post, I want to send my heartfelt thanks to the talented group of writers that exceeded the Tree of Life: Branching Out challenge I set out before them in a way I never would have dreamed.

Each of these writers possess a unique gift for the written word. They collectively merged their storytelling skills to create an overwhelmingly beautiful saga, wrought with meaning and woven with the essence of music.

With each new voice, the epic tale grew, branching out in unique ways that reflected the individual while honoring the whole.

I am in awe of their abilities, their strength, their enthusiasm and their support.

I may have planted the seed, but it is you who breathed life into it. Rooted in passion, it thrived on your imagination.

You are the branches of this, the Tree of Life.

It is an honor to have worked with you, and on behalf of audiomachine and myself, I cannot thank you enough for the incredible journey…treeoflife_branchingout_badge

Amy Willoughby-Burle, John Wiswell, M. Pax, Al Diaz, Gary Philip Pennick, DL Hammons, Susan Scott, Ruth Long, Djinnia, Daniel Swensen, KC Hunter, Shannon Kenoyer Lawrence, Tina Downey, Beverly Fox, Michelle Wallace, Mina Lobo, Gwen Gardner, Angela Brown, Lisa Shambrook, Sarah Wesson, Leighton Williams, Elise Fallson, Vidya Sury, Damyanti Biswas and C. Lee McKenzie

Tree of Life Composers:
Paul Dinletir
Kevin Rix
Danail Getz
Jeff Marsh
Steffan Michael Koch
John A. Graves

Special thanks to:

Marc D’Amour of audiomachine, for his continued support of this project!

Jennifer Redstreake Geary who gave our collaboration a visually stunning logo!