Stand-alone Novel

COMING IN 2025

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A few years after the Great War, the battle for gold has left the land soaked in blood. The infamous Battle of Five Armies claimed countless lives over a hoard no one was meant to keep. Among the few survivors is Captain John, a hardened man who narrowly escapes death and stumbles upon an isolated village perched atop a flat mountain known only as High Hill.

But this village hides a dark secret. It thrives on the backs of enslaved Black men and women, their lives consumed by labor, suffering, and silence. As Captain John navigates the stark contrast between the haunting beauty of High Hill and its brutal reality, he must confront the choices that led him here,and decide whether he will become part of the oppression or fight against it.

A tale of survival, conscience, and power in the shadow of war and greed.

The first thing Sarah noticed when she returned to consciousness was the smell of damp earth. It was thick, pungent, and close, as if the ground itself was trying to swallow her. Then came the sharp, metallic taste of blood coating her tongue. She grimaced and turned her head, spitting out a fragment of her back tooth. The gritty crunch of dirt mixed with the blood made her stomach twist.

    Her throat burned, so dry it felt like sandpaper. She swallowed, but it only made the pain worse. For a moment, she lay still, blinking up at the vague gray of the sky through a canopy of tangled branches. Her ears rang. Something skittered across her hand. Sarah jerked, slapping instinctively, and brushed away a long-legged bug that had been crawling up her wrist.

    She tried to sit up but winced as a bolt of pain shot through her ribs. Her left side throbbed with a deep, dull ache. Her pretty yellow dress, which had been bright yesterday morning, was caked with mud and streaked with what looked like blood. Hopefully, not all of it hers.

    Where the hell am I? Did I fall off my horse? Have I been shot?

    Every muscle in her body ached like a horse had run over her. Tender and sore beneath her torn dress. Sarah had never felt this awful. Sarah was so diminished and shaky that even the smallest movement sent waves of nausea crashing through her. Her vision blurred, and the world spun, as if caught in a storm at sea with no solid ground under her.

    A cold sweat clung to her skin, and the fierce dizziness made her clutch at the side of the ditch, desperate for something to hold on to. Sarah wondered if she was dying. How could she feel this awful and not be?

    Then, with a violent heave, she vomited once and then again. Sarah’s dry throat burning with each wrenching spasm. The bitter taste of bile mingled with the coppery sting of blood in her mouth. Weakness washed over her in heavy, crushing waves, dragging her down. She wanted to cry out for help, but her voice was gone, swallowed by the ache in her chest. Instead, she curled inward, trying to steady her trembling hands and will herself to breathe.

    Sarah was a beautiful woman, and it sometimes brought danger. Some brutes had the inclination to take everything by force if they believed they could get away with it, including one’s life. And the life of a black woman was not worth much in these parts.

    I think I might pass out again.

    Sarah had always carried a concealed gun, but someone had taken it from her. Someone had knocked her out cold with the butt of a pistol. It had been a surprise attack while she walked on the path near her home. Sarah was usually so careful about her surroundings. She prided herself on being cautious, always alert. They’d expected her to walk there. Must have been watching her comings and goings, likely waiting for an opportunity.

    Sarah blinked several times as she tried to remember how she came to be in her predicament. Remembering what happened, however, proved difficult. Her head throbbed. She removed soil from her brown face and then spit blood and a second piece of tooth. Bruises covered Sarah’s body. Her left eye was black and swollen, and her dress was torn.

    “I think I’m going to throw up again.” She heaved several times, but nothing came out.

    The sound of a nearby woodpecker pounding on a tree echoed through the forest, startling her. A flicker of dread passed through her. She was certain they had come back. More than one man responsible for her condition? Her heart pounded.

    Just a bird.

    Sarah felt as if she had pounded her head against the bark of an oak like the bird pounded his hierarchical multiscale beak. Her head continued to throb. Did her skull sustain a crack? It sure felt like it.

    Sarah listened for movement, now remembering some of the attack. She had fought them and caused some damage. She became terrified. Might her assailants still be in the area? Sarah listened intently but heard nothing.

A captivating story of a genius 5-year-old Japanese boy who captivates the world. Everyone wants to talk to him, and will the government take him away from his parents?

At just five years old, Kiyoshi can speak ten languages, solve complex mathematical theorems, and compose music that brings even the most stoic listeners to tears. Raised in a quiet town outside Kyoto.

What is the child's destiny?