Author: debrazauthor

I’ve re-written Where There Was Darkness. Why would a man, having escaped the nightmare he’d been forced to live, finding a freedom he never thought to have, want to end the life he fought so hard to regain? Have you ever felt the battle won or lost took so much of your life that you had nothing left to give. I think at one time or another we all feel too tired to move forward, if not ourself, then it’s someone we know who’s facing difficult, life changing decisions . Marcus has someone to lean on. We don’t all have a person like that in our lives. I think this is a darkness many of us understand.

From Where:

Marcus sat by the chimney, holding a long piece of filthy glass tightly in trembling hands. Glancing at the door that had provided his escape from the monster within, he waited for it to speak.

You’re free to walk in the sun, but you still walk in the darkness. I’m…

“Dead. I killed you.” Marcus heard his laugh, one he’d seldom heard.

“What are you doing?” Ray called out as he approached. “Who are you talking to?”

Still staring at the glass, Marcus snorted. “I should have known she would call you, that you would find me.”

Back to me.

Many years ago, I woke up in a recovery room after nine hours of surgery. The doctor called my name and though I was awake, I didn’t answer. The quiet, the knowing I was still alive, gave me time to know who I wanted to be when I opened my eyes. I’ll never know if the person who woke up was the person I should be. We don’t get to live the life we didn’t choose and we will never know what may have been. These are questions we all face. For Marcus the questions are more difficult. My hope is to tell the story of how his decisions, ours, aren’t made alone. His response is framed by those he’s grown to love and the one who changed him from what he once thought he would be.

Third in the series, Where There Was Darkness is the story of Marcus’ connection to his past and the future he makes. His evolution is best explained by the new version. I hope I’ve done justice to the man I created, in the world I’ve brought him into, a darkness deeper than what I’ve seen, but nevertheless one I can identify with. Copies are now available.

It’s been a long time coming but I want to say the book launch was a success. More important than the number of books sold was those who came. Today’s friends and those from many years ago came to show support. I am so proud of Sister Wold the Return to Terah. I will miss the characters I have come to know so well and hope you will find the time to meet them.

Eight books, I brought them all.

A new friend enjoying the launch and purchasing the first book in the Darkness and Light Series.

It’s hard to believe, the shy girl who lived mostly in her head, only comfortable in front of people when singing and making believe she was someone else, usually Barbra Streisand, could actually talk in front of a group of people. Loving what I do helps take away the fear. It’s good to know Streisand vomited before every live performance. At least I didn’t get sick.

Taking Marcus (Dark Nigh of the Soul) from victim to survivor in his long journey helped me, the woman who survived the brain tumor she thought would take, if not her life, her ability to be who she wanted to be. Instead it gave me the strength to be the person I always wanted to be. We, all of us, are stronger than the challenges we have faced, the challenges still to come.

Bringing the courage, strength and wisdom of the youths we so often speak ill of is what I put into my Sister World Series. Too often we send or young to war, but ignore what they’re trying to tell us. There is much to learn in the listening.

With love in their hearts, my parents gave up much of their lives to give me and my sister the life they thought we deserved, not knowing that what we needed and wanted was them. It is the not hearing that is the catalyst for The Arrival. The listening, learning and trusting brings about the silent war for our world, our Fight for Earth. The final testimony is the trust now placed where it is best served that brings us back to Terah.

If you haven’t read the books, please do. They’re available in every format. If you have, please post a review.

THE PERSON WHO SHARES THIS POST THE MOST WILL WIN A $50.00 AMAZON GIFT CARD. Yes that’s all you need to do. I will be holding a book launch for Sister World Return to Terah, the third book in the Sister World trilogy on May 25th at Stillwater books, 1745 Main Street, Warwick, RI from 3:00-4:00 PM. Meet the author and enjoy light munchies. I hope to see you there.

I’m inviting all my readers, and soon to be readers, to come to the book launch of Return to Terah on May 25th from 3:00 to 4:00 at Stillwater Books, 1745 Main Street, West Warwick, RI 02893

I’m very excited to introduce the final chapters in the Sister World Trilogy. I’ll miss the friends I’ve made among the pages of this book, but I know I’ve taken them where they needed to go. Please join me, to celebrate the Sister World, Return to Terah.

I know I’ve said this before but the book is finally in its final edit. I’m particular so I’m taking my time, making sure it’s what I want it to be.

As we follow Kahill, Becarra, Peter, Rebecca and all the others who sacrificed and fought to save Earth from the occupation of the despot Frauliege, we find many who fought with them follow Kahill and Becarra to Terah. There they face seemingly insurmountable obstacles. The battles are real, lives on the line. There are heroes, spies, sacrifices and betrayal. Will Learning to work together finally end Frauliege’s reign. There are surprises to be found and new people to care about. We can never forget those with four legs or wings that have their lives on the line. I hope to give you a release date soon.

I’m posting a few paragraphs of my short story, No Green Eyed Monster. It’s autobiographical and tells of my childhood, of love that doing the best it can, with the best of intentions isn’t always the answer.

       I don’t remember my first home.  I’ve heard a lot about it.  A big apartment with a pretty good sized yard.  My mother didn’t like it because it was mostly driveway.  I only remember leaving it behind.  My sister was getting ready for first grade and my parents wanted us to go to a good school.  

            We moved to Cumberland.  This home I remember well.  Both my parents had dropped out of school.  They married young.  Mom was just sixteen, father only three years older.  They saved every penny they could and bought a converted hunting shack.  In my memory it was beautiful.  There were four of us.  My sister and I shared a bedroom.  My parents had the only other one.  The bathroom was an add on.  Unfortunately this meant the pipes were outside and froze when the weather got cold enough.  I can still see my mother emptying out the chamber pot.  No matter how miserable the job she always came in smiling.  For her children she would do whatever it took.  We didn’t have a bathtub or shower.  The farmers sink in the kitchen worked well enough.  My sister outgrew it first.  I remember the first day she went to school, leaving me behind.  I wanted to go and didn’t understand when my sister came home crying.  

            I watched the glass cookie jar.  I didn’t understand why Mom was putting her every spare dollar in the jar.  When it went from clear to green, we went shopping.  It was my turn to go to school.  It didn’t take me long to find out why my sister cried.  Poor is not something to brag about.  

Second the

I had a great time. My fellow authors are so much fun to be with. This year I have more to thank them for. To Guy, who took care of my stuff when I was unable to be there. Maria Medenciy and Maria Guglielmo for taking care of me and of course, my husband for always being there for me.

I did have a good time. Here’s some pictures to show you just a little of what fun the Con can be.

A while back I wrote a poem that spoke of the things we sometimes forget out parents do for us. I won’t say everything is rosy and there will be arguments and disagreements. Sometimes, quite often actually, winning means far less than agreeing to disagree. What matters is behind the differences there’s love. I did not always agree with my mother but I always loved her. The Journey is the poem she inspired.

THE JOURNEY

Life takes us on a journey

The rudder held in our hands, is broken by the threads of life

Neither wind nor rain directs us to where we want to go

It is the current

The flow of time drives us to shores we did not plan to visit

Pushing us beyond where we had hoped to land

The shore, the one we try to reach, is often just beyond our grasp

But we are not castaways

Our mother’s love, like wind, steers us away from many of the dangers we didn’t see

Our father’s strength protects us from the rocky bottom as it reaches up from the depths to pull

us beneath the icy surfaces of time and disappointment

In the calm, the journey, its many dangers is forgotten and yet

Now as my boat begins to see its moorings

I once again see the love guiding my ship

The force of the rain, washing away many of the pains I faced

The strength of the wind blowing me to a safer shore

And I hold those I love once more.

Debra Zannelli

Coming soon. There’ll be something for everyone. I hope to see you there.