This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. H.C. Turk will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops at the tour.
In order to save her family, an 18th-century witch entertains suicide, thereby entering a coma-like trance that lasts 300 years. In this magical state, she reaches into the future to guide other people who long for redemption.
England, 1710. Young Alba knows she is a witch, but the term means nothing until her mother is executed for witchcraft. Then Alba enters a trance that causes everyone around her debilitating emotions, just like Alba’s. The trance, which is Alba’s magic, does not appear again until years later when her mentor is arrested and sentenced to death. Panicked, Alba stabs herself in the heart. Instead of dying, she enters a “false sleep” (coma), a state of spiritual consciousness. Hoping to find peace for others, she seeks similar souls in the future.
Germany, 1942: An American soldier is mortally wounded. In his final moment, he experiences the glory of a beautiful life, if only in his dreams. He enters a spiritual realm filled with warm family adventures, metaphysical escapades that are alternately hilarious and horrific, yet always lead away from anguish. Directed by Alba’s unseen influence, Andrew fights for solace, and wins.
Indonesia, 2003: A young American woman on a Western Pacific island must relive an ancient, tortuous journey through a primitive environment in order to redeem the foreigners in the country. Influenced by a power she can only sense in her heart (Alba), Connie seeks a solution of acceptance instead of rejection.
Told with humor and compassion, the heart of the book is the longing to find peace despite haunting failure, and finding joy in helping others achieve the same.
Read an Excerpt
When I was alive, I could not tell you what a train is, or would be. Now, I cannot tell you how I feel about transportation of this nature, a line of connected metal carriages driven by mechanisms like clockwork from beyond; and is that not the source of the future? When I was alive, I could not tell you what a train is, or would be. Now, I cannot tell you how I feel about transportation of this nature, a line of connected metal carriages driven by mechanisms like clockwork from beyond; and is that not the source of the future?
Neither can I tell you the nature of my testimony, though I praise the Deity that I can wield my influence into the lives of other people who deserve liberation. Unlike salvation, which comes from God, redemption comes from the heart.
“Liberation” is a goal of the associated horror ensconcing this era: “warfare,” the particular involved here not local, but global, the second of its kind, though not the last.
1945. How bigoted would I be to say that no witch is good at numbers? Germany. Once I was accused of being of that nationality, and now I virtually live there, with my virtual life.
In the distance, snowy, irregular mountain tops, not the Cambrian Mountains, but the Alps. Some brief words can be so fine.
An American draftee rides in a German Diesel locomotive with other stragglers. (Time is coming for me to absorb the meaning of these new terms and the ideas they represent without delineating their specifics: a nation that did not exist when I was alive, the massive machines, the murderous weapons. Beyond that, how close must one be to a person and their living in order to become a participant, not merely an observer?)
Neither can I tell you the nature of my testimony, though I praise the Deity that I can wield my influence into the lives of other people who deserve liberation. Unlike salvation, which comes from God, redemption comes from the heart.
“Liberation” is a goal of the associated horror ensconcing this era: “warfare,” the particular involved here not local, but global, the second of its kind, though not the last.
1945. How bigoted would I be to say that no witch is good at numbers? Germany. Once I was accused of being of that nationality, and now I virtually live there, with my virtual life.
In the distance, snowy, irregular mountain tops, not the Cambrian Mountains, but the Alps. Some brief words can be so fine.
An American draftee rides in a German Diesel locomotive with other stragglers. (Time is coming for me to absorb the meaning of these new terms and the ideas they represent without delineating their specifics: a nation that did not exist when I was alive, the massive machines, the murderous weapons. Beyond that, how close must one be to a person and their living in order to become a participant, not merely an observer?)
About the Author
H. C. Turk is a writer, sound artist, and visual artist. His novels have been published by Villard and Tor. His short fiction, sound pieces, movies, and visual art have appeared in numerous magazines, websites, podcasts, and film festivals. He used to paint houses (not as an art form.)
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FVWKKVS9/
Books2Read: https://books2read.com/u/4DGy2P
Video Trailer: https://youtu.be/UHr5XHs5kdk?si=nScbZiKK2FjqC_zA
Website: https://hcturk.com
Bandcamp: http://hcturk.bandcamp.com/
Newsletter: https://hcturk.substack.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thehcturk/
