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Brandon King
a book bubble about
All His Wrath
Science Fiction & Fantasy
Author Insight
Your Point of View Matters
Have you noticed that when you're tired or stressed that your view of things leans hard toward the negative? But if you're rested and fed, the same circumstances bring a different reaction? You don't feel the same because your view of things isn't the same. Which means that we have the ability to choose how to react and feel about things. In fact, we have that ability a LOT more than most people think or believe. We’re not at the mercy of our sleep patterns or hunger for...whatever. Here, we have a little window, in this excerpt, into how different that can be. We also see how getting input from someone else can help us more accurately see things as they really are. Your point of view matters. And your choice about whether to see negative or positive makes a big impact on your ultimate view. On a different topic, don’t forget you can download—for free—the first 5 chapters of the first book in The Gargoyle Chronicles series. Get it at brandonkingauthor.com. ~BK #pointofview #choices #negative #positive #truth #adventure #epic #fantasy #gargoyles #awardwinning #readabook #teensandyoungadults #AllHisWrath
Book Excerpt
All His Wrath
For several minutes, neither girl spoke. The starlight shimmered on the surface of the lake where the mists didn’t cover the water. A gentle breeze stole through the treetops, fluttering the dappled maple leaves into a dance of nocturnal light and shadow. Both girls pulled their blankets snug and huddled closer together. With a hand signal that Anja understood well, the dog followed her mistress’s wish and lay down on the girls’ feet. The pungence of the damp grass blended with the faint scent of columbine, mountain laurel and larkspur.
“This place is harsh and hard at night,” Bettina said.
“Do you think so?” Danielle replied. “I think it’s pretty tonight, in spite of my dream.”
Bettina said nothing for a moment, but Danielle noticed her knee begin bobbing again. “Yes, I suppose that is true,” she whispered.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Danielle asked.
“It is…difficult.”
“I understand. There’s no rush. And we’re safe here.”
“Is there no rush?” Bettina replied, a shrillness edging into her speech.
“Tell me, Bettina. Get it out.” Danielle felt strange speaking to an older girl this way. “What is your dream about?”
“Death,” came the nearly inaudible reply. “It’s about death.”
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