Shadows of Atlantis by Mara Powers Book Tour and Giveaway :)
Shadows
of Atlantis: Awakening
by
Mara Powers
Genre:
Fantasy
"...had
me turning the pages obsessively from the very beginning."
Readers Favorite.
Enter
the legacy of the legend...
Brigitte
has been chosen to renew the treaty between Atlantis and the ancient
bloodline of Lemuria. As an emissary of nature, her betrothal would
ensure the continued function of the Crystal Grid, the life source of
the ten kingdoms of Atlantis. But as Brigitte prepares to leave from
her home in the magical Dreamvale, her people are attacked by a storm
of shadows. Now she is running for her life.
Upon
her arrival in the ruling city of Atlantis, she meets D’Vinid, a
dejected musician who lives the quintessential Atlantean lifestyle of
revelry, escapism and apathy. Under the eclipse of a sacred festival,
they are swept into an attraction they cannot resist. Their union may
protect humanity from its worst enemy - the shadows of Atlantis. But
there is one problem, this man is not her betrothed.
Brigitte
soon discovers that the corruption of the Grid could very well be the
Grid itself. Citizens have neglected to attend the rituals required
to charge the crystals with their psychic emanations. Some have
fallen prey to an epidemic called “the madness”, caused by
shadowy parasites that feed off human suffering. But as nature always
strives toward balance, the crystals have activated a genetic upgrade
among the people. The youth have begun to express supernatural
powers. Could it be that D’Vinid and Brigitte are meant to be
leaders among the awakened? And if so, why does it seem impossible
for them to be together?
A
mysterious tale of romance, seduction and betrayal that reaches just
enough into the modern mind to ask - will we learn the lessons of
Atlantis?
**Only
.99 cents!**
Leaving
the Dreamvale would mean Brigitte would gradually forget growing up
on the rocky shores of the mystical islands. She stood in her
favorite place high above the dreamclan village watching the ocean
dance with the cliffs. It would be her last chance to behold the
glory of sunset before boarding the galleon bobbing in the cove
below. Evenings
were always a masterpiece of color, the best time to behold the
splendor of nature’s art. Clouds of rainbow prisms had the look of
creatures billowing in the sky. But in the distance, a wall of storm
opened like the jaws of a predator, drifting ever closer to the
peaceful, green island. “Brigitte.”
A male voice echoed through her contemplation. She felt a pang of
disappointment. Leaving would mean the beginning of a journey she had
feared all her life. With one last lingering view of the panorama,
she held her breath, reached out her arms and leapt from the cliff.
As a mass of dancing particles, she bounced down the ragged rocks
toward the village, one with the wind. Taking her time would be rude,
so she kept moving until she filled the inside of her room. Her
brother Lukias was a dreamseer, finely tuned to the invisible. As
usual, his hair was a shock of chaos that pointed in every direction.
The amber of his eyes sparkled with gold flecks as he stood over her
body with arms crossed. He looked right at her dream form. “The
council has called us,” he said with a hint of impatience. Brigitte
sank back into her body and opened her eyes. “I
warned you not to dreamwalk too much.” He turned his back as she
reached for her travel clothes. “You could separate from your body
and forget how to return. Especially here in the Dreamvale.” “It
hardly matters anymore.” She watched the sun’s rays shoot dusty
light through holes in the walls. She thought about the pattern it
made every day at this time, the royal symbol of Atlantis. “In
Atlantis we will be bound to our bodies.” Lukias
reached out a caring hand and patted her shoulder. “There will be
ways to dreamwalk in the realms of matter. It will just be more … challenging.” She
smirked, knowing he always loved a challenge. He could always find
humor even in the grimmest of circumstances. They exchanged a few
moments of unfolding memories until, with the final boot in place,
she stamped her feet and started for the door. “You coming?” Together
they walked to the center of the village where the council was
gathered in a semi-circle facing a woman. She wore the leather of
seafarers, her face shaded by a wide-brimmed hat. With one hip thrust
to the side, her demeanor was unruffled with a twist of amusement. Their
father Denikon raised his booming voice for all to hear. “Captain
Ofira Pazit of the Dreamship Vex
Voyager,
I give you my daughter Brigitte, emissary to Atlantis. She is the
first true Moirae born into our dreamclan for seven generations.” The
captain wrinkled her chin. “Impressive. Embodied Watchers are rare,
even among dreamclans.” Her chameleon eyes shifted in the fading
light. “If you are ready, I think it wise that we set sail before
that shadow storm arrives, don’t you?” Her eyes slid toward the
horizon. “This storm has struck more than one dreamclan. All of
them were to send emissaries for the renewal of the Telluric Treaty.
None of them have been heard from.” She turned back to the council.
“Are you certain you want to risk staying? It would be a tight fit,
but we can evacuate the rest of you.” Brigitte
glanced at the grim face of her tutor Indrius. The mysterious
Atlantean woman had always been a curiosity to the clan. Though she
had spent many years among them, she was never one of them. She was
riddled with tragedy from a past she never spoke of, a past born in
Atlantis. Denikon
answered, “Those who remain have chosen to face the shadows.” His
voice was steadfast though regret lingered in his eyes. He exchanged
a nod with Indrius. “I am sending Lukias, my son and heir, to
accompany his sister. If we fall, he will be the future of our clan.
But trust me, we will not go down without a fight.” The
council had argued for many moon cycles, trying to decide the fate of
their people. It was important for Brigitte to escape. Her path was
evident. The first ships had already departed, taking women and
children to places of refuge. The rest stayed, devising a strategy.
Though they were hopeful, they worked with the solemnity of people
who faced their demise. She
squinted at Lukias as he and Indrius said their goodbyes. Theirs was
always a close relationship. But everyone liked Lukias. Her time
spent with Indrius was always strained at best. She offered him a
gift. The sun flashed off a crystal dangling from a silver chain.
Brigitte could feel the telluric consciousness radiating from the
multi-faceted quartz. It pulsed with a longing that made her fidget. After
a whispered message to Lukias, the white-haired woman turned to look
at Brigitte. Her green eyes were gray with emotion. She brushed
Brigitte’s cheek with her fingertips. “You know your task,” she
began. “Remember your Watcher powers. It has become exceedingly
difficult to travel between realms on this planet. I fear this shadow
storm will make it even more difficult. Atlantis is suffering from a
disease. It will try and take you, too. Do not be attached to your
human wishes and emotions. For humans, attachment can turn to
weakness and suffering. This only serves to feed the shadows. Your
path will not be easy.” “I
will do what it takes to find a cause and a cure for Atlantis. I will
be mindful of your warnings.” “Therein
lies the trick. As you descend deeper into the Meridian Realm, you
will forget my warnings. Take steps to hold them in your heart.”
She lingered in Brigitte’s eyes for a few awkward moments. “I
have prepared you as best I could, my child. I regret how I’ve
treated you.” She faced Brigitte and held her shoulders. “Know
that I loved you like my own daughter. My treatment toward you was an
attempt to prepare you for the task you face. Atlantis will not be
kind to you.” “I
understand, Indrius. You had no choice.” Brigitte wanted to cry.
But her tears had long since dried up.
Mara Powers is a rebel of the written word who has tackled the monumental task of recreating Atlantis. When she was 16 in Fort Collins, Colorado, she began visiting the library in search of things she couldn't learn in school. Her goal was to re-define her religion. She studied theology voraciously until she discovered the concept of reincarnation though Hinduism. It was the answer to a lifelong existential crisis that had plagued her for many sleepless nights. The study of reincarnation led her to the channel Edgar Cayce. In his many books, she found his past life readings of lifetimes spent in Atlantis. This was the beginning of a lifelong quest to unravel the secrets of this mystery. She has spent upwards of 30 years exploring the labyrinth of ancient civilizations. Her decision to turn it all into a high concept, visionary fantasy series stems from her study of the esoteric depiction of Atlantis. With the other half of her research rooted in the secular, it was the best way to illustrate both aspects of this fascinating legend. Her work is the legacy of the legend.
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Describe your writing process.
For me, writing is both intuitive and
emotional. It’s rarely logical. In fact, if I’m a diva about
anything, writing is it. I must have everything just so. I have
evolved over the years and trust me it’s been a wild ride.
Inspiration is so fluid and fickle, and I have to give myself a huge
enough container to allow my brain to stretch into other worlds.
I wasn’t always like that. Ideas were
a part of my everyday existence. I would see a person walking down
the street, and the way they dressed, their facial expression, even
their hairstyle would conjure a tale in my head. But that was me as a
child. I was always writing books made out of folded paper that I
would staple at the center, a very tricky process. Stories were my
natural way of thinking.
But as life always puts us through the
ringer, my imagination stopped being so easily accessible. I drowned
myself in alcohol for a while, and I am of the mind that I damaged
the delicate ecosystem of my vivid imagination. But I quit just over
a year ago, and it’s been slowly returning. When I was a drinker, I
used to think of it as lube for my brain. I would have some whiskeys
to relax into a thought process and open up to broader ideas. It
worked, but there was a price to pay. The illness that went along
with the ever-increasing hangover threshold became a price I wasn’t
willing to pay anymore.
Even now sometimes the ideas don’t
come so easily unless I have found a way to release my mind into the
fluid world of the emotional. Regular meditation has become a key
element in this process. Rigorous exercise is another one. Sometimes
if I go to sleep thinking about a storyline, the answer will
materialize in my dreams. Regardless, I never force it. I was
dismayed when I caught a gnarly head cold and had to take Benadryl.
The delirium that ensued relaxed me enough that ideas came, and I
wrote one of my favorite scenes. I think of it as my Edgar Allen Poe
scene. In a way, what I do is shamanic. It’s like opening a doorway
to a sea of dreams, and fishing for imagery.
The process is always evolving. And
though I like to keep my feet on the ground and remain practical, my
business of creating worlds demands a that I embrace being in a
visionary frame of mind. Such a cruel complexity is the mind.
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