Bonus excerpt from The Genes of Isis by Justin Newland with giveaway
Hi Aubrey, many thanks for hosting this stop on the blog tour, kindly arranged by Goddess Fish in promotion of my novel, The Genes of Isis.
Here’s an extract from the book. It’s from the end part of Chapter 8, The Lore of Erasure.
… A cock began to crow, splitting the early morning vapours. The birdsong grew in both intensity and volume. The first sliver of dawn crept through the cell opening. For the Pharaoh’s people, the rising sun would bring a welcome respite. But for Berux and his family, it would bring a crushing end to their lives.
The cellar man thrust the door open. In walked the Guardian of Justice.
“It is time,” Lasec said, a malevolent grin on his face that befitted his function as executioner.
Lasec hauled the terrified man out of the cell and down the corridor, halting at a pair of oval doors. Outside were a heap of discarded headdresses, skirts, shirts, and dresses. Amongst the jumble, there were even some pectorals and jewellery. Berux knew what to do and with reluctance, he took off his clothes and sandals. Horque rather liked the symmetry of the Solarii creed that said one left life as one entered it: naked.
The Guardian of Justice pulled open the doors to the Court of Erasure. The distant pale stirrings of dawn shone through a large window opening. In the centre of the court was a plinth topped by a fearsome black diorite statue of a man with the head of a jackal: Anubis, God of the underworld, protector of the dead. Clustered around him were a score of glum, dejected people: Berux’s wife and the rest of his close relatives. They stared blankly into space, hardly bothering to hide their modesty. Only Evera, Berux’s wife, looked up when the condemned man entered the court and threw him a glance full of daggers. As he staggered past her, she spat at him, her face contorted in a spasm of hate.
Horque peered through his whites to see into the astral. From what he gauged, the mercurial Lasec had conjured the required lethal mix of energies from the astral light. When the first emerald green ray of dawn slanted into the court and caressed the statue of Anubis, it would splinter into a multitude of smaller rays, like sunlight through glass, searing into each person, suffocating their bodies of breath and life. It was a good death. Any death that was quick was good.
“You’ll also need this,” he said and handed Lasec the Rod of Erasure, a sycamore club as thick as a man’s forearm. Lasec ran his fingers over its elaborate jackal etchings and faience inlay. The man clearly relished his work.
Anyone caught in the chamber when the rim of the sunburst over the horizon would perish; this was not the time to loiter.
“Lasec, we have to leave. Dawn is upon us.”
Lasec hurried from the chamber and the cellar man slammed the doors shut. All of a sudden, Lasec lurched back towards the doors.
“What’re you doing?” Horque said, blocking his way. “You can’t go back in there.”
“I … I left the Rod of Erasure in the court,” Lasec stammered.
A single terrifying scream split the air. A moment later, dawn struck, filling the court with a cacophony of blood-curdling cries. After a long and painful pause, the cellar man threw the doors open and Horque pushed past him. The stench of death was obnoxious. Berux and his family lay scattered around the court, their bodies still twitching as their ka left them for the last time.
“Protector, over here.” Lasec called to him, pointing to a woman’s corpse.
“That’s Evera,” Horque said. In her hand, she clutched the bloodstained Rod of Erasure. Her body lay next to her husband’s, whose head had a gaping hole from which oozed a ghastly mass of blood and gore, the only visible sign that death had thrown a veil on the court.
“What happened here?” the cellar man asked, screwing up his face in confusion.
“It’s obvious, she murdered him.” Lasec chuckled.
“I don’t understand. She knew he was going to die anyway. Why take the trouble to smash his brains out?” the cellar man asked as he scratched his scrotum.
“You don’t understand the joy of revenge.” Lasec sighed in admiration.
That man has a black heart, Horque thought. “You left the Rod of Erasure in the court,” he said aloud. “You were meant to remove it to prevent this kind of thing happening.” He pointed to the crimson pool seeping out on the floor.
“I – I left the court in haste – because you told me to,” Lasec stammered, a look of feigned surprise on his face.
“Clean it up.” Horque said, spitting out each word, “then do your job. Astral erasure. Berux only. See to it.”
Lasec grabbed the bloodstained Rod of Erasure and turned to the cellar man. “There he is.” He pointed at Berux. The cellar man tucked the Rod underneath Berux’ neck so it formed a kind of wooden pillow of death. With the cold eye of an assassin and in one swift movement, Lasec twisted Berux’ neck, snapping it over the Rod with a loud crack. Berux’s neck hung limp and twisted like a chicken’s.
“Done,” Lasec said, a malicious smile dancing on his lips. “You sure you don’t want me to do the others. It’s no trouble.”
“No,” Horque said. “Berux is the only one.” Breaking his neck permanently erased his ka and the entirety of his record from the astral light: that way, his wickedness could never in the future influence someone else to do the same. The cleansing of Ma’at and the astral light was complete. That was a boon. Dealing with Lasec was not.
“Now,” Horque said to him, “do you think you can organise their burial, or will you mismanage that as well?”
Lasec glanced at him and started lugging the bodies into a pile.
The stench of death in the court was overpowering, so Horque left the two men to their work. On his way out, he wondered whether he could curtain Lasec’s worthless life in the same way as Berux. That prospect would have to wait for another day.
The Genes of Isis
by Justin Newland
GENRE: Mythological Fiction / Fantasy
BLURB:
Akasha is a precocious young woman who lives in a world where oceans circulate in the aquamarine sky waters.
Before she was born, the Helios, a tribe of angels from the sun, came to Earth to deliver the Surge, the next step in the evolution of an embryonic human race. Instead, they left humanity on the brink of extinction and spawned a race of monstrous hybrids.
Horque is a Solarii, another tribe of angels, sent to Earth to rescue the genetic mix-up and release the Surge.
When Akasha has a premonition that a great flood is imminent and falls in love with Horque, her life becomes an instrument for apocalyptic change. But will it save the three races – humans, hybrids and Solarii – from the killing waters?
Excerpt
She willed her ka towards Du’at, the realm of the dead, and quickly located the pair of columns at its entrance, the colossal Anubis Gates. She expected to find the jackal-headed Anubis operating its gates, but they appeared unguarded. Her voyage to the underworld couldn’t be easier – she’d enter Du’at, find the Hall of Truth, and rescue Horque’s ka.
As she approached, a curtain of force shimmered between the gates. On it silky, misty surface appeared a thousand faces – young and old, happy and sad, and all strangely familiar people she’d met in her lifetime, human and Solarii – until one only remained. No. It couldn’t be. It was her own face. She was so startled she nearly ruptured the precious umbilical connection to her physical body. Was it a mirror? No, it was a replica. It was more than that. It was her double.
The guard to Du’at was Issa herself. The face stared back at her, inspecting her, a most unnerving experience. To be investigated by oneself. She felt naked to the core.
“What do you want?” The double even spoke in her own voice.
“Entry to Du’at,” she replied.
“This is the realm of the dead. You’re still alive; go back to where you belong.”
The face of her double stared back, eyes unflinching, scrutinising her inner being. There was nowhere to hide from oneself.
“No, I can’t do that. Let me in. My son must live again.”
“Many come to plead for their loved ones. Don’t think you’re the first,” the face snarled. “Enter here at your peril, because you’ll never leave.”
“What does that mean? I’m more powerful than a mere guard dog,” she scoffed. “Let me pass.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Justin Newland is an author of historical fantasy and secret history thrillers – that’s history with a supernatural twist. His stories feature known events and real people from history which are re-told and examined through the lens of the supernatural. He gives author talks and is a regular contributor to BBC Radio Bristol’s Thought for the Day. He lives with his partner in plain sight of the Mendip Hills in Somerset, England.
His Books
The Genes of Isis is a tale of love, destruction and ephemeral power set under the skies of Ancient Egypt. A re-telling of the Biblical story of the flood, it reveals the mystery of the genes of Isis – or genesis – of mankind. ISBN 9781789014860.
“The novel is creative, sophisticated, and downright brilliant! I couldn’t ask more of an Egyptian-esque book!” – Lauren, Books Beyond the Story.
The Old Dragon’s Head is a historical fantasy and supernatural thriller set during the Ming Dynasty and played out in the shadows the Great Wall of China. It explores the secret history of the influences that shaped the beginnings of modern times. ISBN 9781789015829.
‘The author is an excellent storyteller.” – British Fantasy Society.
Set during the Great Enlightenment, The Coronation reveals the secret history of the Industrial Revolution. ISBN 9781838591885.
“The novel explores the themes of belonging, outsiders… religion and war… filtered through the lens of the other-worldly.” – A. Deane, Page Farer Book Blog.
His latest, The Abdication (July, 2021), is a suspense thriller, a journey of destiny, wisdom and self-discovery. ISBN 9781800463950.
“In Topeth, Tula confronts the truth, her faith in herself, faith in a higher purpose, and ultimately, what it means to abdicate that faith.”
https://www.facebook.com/justin.newland.author/
Amazon buy link: https://www.amazon.com/Genes-Isis-Justin-Newland-ebook/dp/B07D7FMDZG/
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Thanks for hosting!
My pleasure!