Tag: Award Winning Writer

A Unique Shard Story From ‘The Weeping God & The Book of Hope: Rising Wind Series: Book Three…

~ DianeOlsenAuthor ~ 2 Comments

SEEING LIGHT IN THE DARK


Archaeologist Sage Dalton tried to shake off his fall into the dark.
As he slowly rose to step out of the rubble, he looked back at the disaster he had caused, checking himself to see if any wood splinters had impaled him. Once he was satisfied that he was mostly in one piece, except for the bleeding bullet wound in his right arm. He tied his neckerchief around the damage with his left hand and his teeth.

As his eyes adjusted with the dim sunlight making its way through the hole in the earth above him, he noticed a faint glint of gold metal peeking through the fragments of the coffin that had softened his fall, when he’d blindly jumped into the hidden opening on the side of the cliff to avoid being strafed by the chattering gun on the the enemy aircraft above. The German crew didn’t believe the war was over, even though it was 1959!

Sage was exhausted, but he picked up a splintered section of the casket and held it for a closer inspection. Squinting, he could make out a design: broad, black lines, which formed wings that had wrapped around the entire sarcophagus. “These are extraordinary! Similar to the Wings of Isis, or the Zoroastrian Favorahar, or even the Egyptian depiction of Horus.” He thought about the aspect of this god, with either his red crown or double headdress made of feathery plumes, and his colorful wings of turquoise, coral, and jet. “Like our Navajo jewelry.” He took a small spiral notebook from his pouch and made a drawing with his good hand.

He remembered Horus had gripped a Nile Cross in one talon and a red ball in the other, with his tail hanging down between them. Hmm. Not unlike the great seal of the United States, a powerful bird grasping the olive branch in one talon and arrows in the other, its wings spread and tail hanging in between its legs. He smiled and wagged his head as he thought, Humankind is definitely in love with this symbol in one form or another.

New pain erupted from the bullet injury, demanding his urgent attention. Ow! He winced as he inspected his bloody limb. “Guess I’ll live. But OW!” The wound was dirty with the dust and sand of his fall, but the bullet had passed through. Though the blood was plentiful, it oozed, rather than gushing. Taking another bandana from the leather pouch hanging from his belt, he wiped off a little of the sand and blood, and then rewrapped the gash, covering it with a comparatively clean piece of the cloth. I could sure use an extra hand to help tie this thing. His eyes landed on the carpus of a skeletal hand poking through the splintered wood around him. “Okay, not literally.”

He cocked his head as he became aware of the distant rush and tumble of a cave river pouring over boulders from a rockslide outside and to the left of the little crypt. He peeked out the doorway at the back of the chamber. His flashlight didn’t help much. When his eyes became more adjusted to the dark, he strained to make out two dim shapes drawn up on the nearby shore. Stepping out cautiously from the burial chamber toward them, he thought, I don’t believe it. Boats. Totora reed boats!

Like the ones used by the Bolivians at Puna on Lake Titicaca. Sage gingerly hopped back up to the crypt, scoping the walls of the chamber he had fallen into. With the aid of the dim flashlight and glimmers of light, which peeked in from the gap where he and Santos entered the wall high above. He became aware of a polychromatic mural on a plastered wall of the ancient Mexican crypt and approached the two-paneled fresco on the far side of the fractured wooden box.

A holy man, whose image was bathed in glorious light, was handing a luminous, rainbow-colored sash to a regal, black-haired woman wearing a traditional Olmec dress tunic. Her long, thick hair had been tied up and was surrounded by a woven headband that sprouted four red and green feather plumes. Her jewelry was limited to earrings and arm bracelets. Sage touched the mural, focusing now on her radiant face. Incredible. She looks so familiar. How can that be? Olmec… She was Olmec…? The holy man appeared to be a Prophet because a golden shimmering aura surrounded him. He was a tall man with a long forehead and long earlobes. His shoulders were adorned with shoulder-length, ash-blond hair and a red-tinged beard.

His eyes were like a gray-blue storm. The regal young man wore a graceful tunic girded by a second rainbow sash and a white robe. On his head sat a red two-tiered turban hat, decorated with a wrap-around thunderbolt design. To top it off, the hat was trimmed with a few white feather plumes. Almost reverently, Sage rubbed his brow and whispered, “Must be the old Feathered Serpent Himself!” His voice trailed off, but he couldn’t help but think, This must be Viracocha, or Quetzalcoatl, as He was called in Mexico, but why does He remind me so much… of Zoroaster, the inspiration of the magi?

His hand moved along the second panel. The beguiling woman carefully placed the end of the dazzling gift into a tiny, bejeweled golden chest. Sage craned around to the broken Russian doll-shaped coffin. “Gold. Didn’t I see…”

Prying apart the splintered wood that had been the lid, he saw bones that had once been lovingly wrapped in layers of exquisite textiles and a headdress that might have belonged to the mural woman herself. Awed, he touched the sad bones thoughtfully. After a few moments, he searched among the burial gifts and noticed the small golden cask. He tried to move the unbelievably heavy little chest, but the exertion snapped something in his injured arm, causing it to bleed severely. He cried out in pain and lost his grip. The chest fell back at an angle so that the lid flopped open against the bones. Resting inside was the rainbow sash! It nearly glowed from within for a few moments after exposure to the world beyond the box. For a moment, Sage could see the mural emblazoned in full color, and it etched itself in his mind. He looked back at his arm. It was a bloody mess.

“Lord Quetzalcoatl, I really hate to do this.” He closed his eyes for a moment. After a brief mental struggle, he pragmatically extracted the sash and wrapped it around his arm for a tourniquet and used his teeth to help tie off the dripping wound. “I mean no disrespect. Using a beautiful relic like this almost hurts worse than the bullet – almost.” He made an attempt to keep the loose ends of the artifact away from the bleeding. I appreciate the help, he sighed. The bleeding slowed considerably, so he closed the chest using only his good arm this time. Accidentally, the weighty lid slammed down on a piece of the skeleton’s ulna, causing a bone fragment to fall into the case.
“Great! Didn’t mean to do that either. Sorry.“



THE LIGHT FROM THE HOLE IN THE WALL ABOVE DIMMED, AND A ROPE dropped through the gap. 
Blitzer and his sidekick, Johan, must be blocking the sun; Sage thought… When they began their descent, Johan shouted in English, “Dalton, you’re dead!

Sage heard them drop from the ledge to root around Santos’ body, looking for the book. Dalton wasn’t going to wait around for them to realize it wasn’t there. He made an awkward one-armed grab for the little chest, scooped it against his side, and dodged out of the tomb toward the water.

He ran with the flashlight in his teeth as bullets shredded the silence following Sage until he was out of range. He set the chest on the shore and shoved one of the reed boats toward the stream before grabbing the treasure and heaving himself into the boat. As he propelled the craft off the bank with the pole he’d found inside, he noticed a thin layer of ice that covered the water near the shore. Unexpectedly, water began pouring through the weave of the hull, and the boat sank quickly. So did Sage’s hope for a speedy escape.

He was shivering, and he lost the flashlight as his teeth began to chatter. He pulled himself together and reached through the cold, murky water to salvage the chest. Oh, God, no wonder Santos bought it. His heart couldn’t take the shock of moving from 113 degrees into freezing water.

His knee bumped the remaining vessel, and he almost dropped the golden cask. There was barely time to shove out the second boat and dive into it head first with the case. Sink or swim! To his great relief, it floated, and he silently drifted deep into the dark cavern. He tried to remain sane in the complete darkness, while the gunmen stranded behind him did the best to have the last words carried in the mouths of unseen bullets.

Sage closed his eyes to pretend he had some control over the darkness, and for protection in case a spider or debris should fall into his face. He estimated he had traveled the dark river for about twenty minutes before he peeked and saw the promise of sunlight beyond. He felt hungry, really hungry.

Then he remembered the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he had in the pouch. Sage ate about half, then re-wrapped the remnant and stuffed it back inside the leather bag, which he closed securely with an antler tine. In the dim light, he took comfort in examining the beaded design on its gray suede exterior, a patch depicting the four directions mostly done in blue beads with accents of red, white, black, and yellow. Because of the increasing brightness, his attention was drawn to a profusion of spider-encrusted foliage hanging from the ceiling. Using his good arm, he ripped a path through the clusters of arachnids until the sun dazzled his dilated eyes as he passed out of the cavern into a jungle marsh.

When his eyes were sufficiently adjusted, he peered around warily. There were no immediate signs of two-legged trouble. However, an enormous spider plopped into the boat and faced the man with its myriad bulging eyes. Sage snagged a branch from the vines above and removed it gingerly. His eyes dropped to the boat floor, searching for other hitch-hiking spiders. He didn’t see any, but his gaze traveled to the golden case. He couldn’t take in its details because the reflected sunlight was too dazzling. It was then, he noticed, with shock, that his wounded arm was completely healed.

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Sage swallowed hard. How did that happen? And the textile is perfectly clean!  He carefully removed the sparkling sash and respectfully folded it, then placed it back into the elegant case, closing the lid reverently with both hands. Finally, for the first time in several days, he could relax, as he floated down the quiet river in isolated peace.

He thought about Santos’ death, the book, and the horrible men who were unlikely to forgive or forget.

******************

More About Book 3 — The Weeping God and The Book of Hope

The Weeping God and the Book of Hope, part three in the Rising Wind series, is actually a prequel to the first two books, so it’s not necessary to have read those first. The lead characters, Sage Dalton and L.W., are the parents of the main character in the other Rising Wind books. Although the characters are different and it is set in an earlier period for the tone of the book is very similar.
,
This time, they discover an ancient text in a Mexican desert tomb that leads Sage, L.W., and a group of fellow explorers to Tibet, where they find themselves in the middle of a war. Even with danger at every turn, they still manage to discover secret caves that lead them toward an elusive yet powerful Book of Hope. First and foremost, her books have a superb cast of characters that readers can easily relate to. They care about each other, work together to achieve a common goal, laugh together, and cry together. Second, her stories revolve around rare ancient discoveries found all over the world.

Much like the great Indiana Jones films, each new discovery comes with an element of danger. The third common theme is an embracing of all world religions. Religion is somehow intertwined with each rare find that the characters make. I appreciate the way Ms. Olsen always characterizes the religious elements in her stories in a positive light, as the hope of mankind, rather than the way most works of fiction portray religion in a negative sense as mankind’s biggest problem.

“This is a fun read filled with colorful characters and lots of action. I recommend it for fans of character-driven adventure who like to learn about science, ancient civilizations, and world religions along the way.“
Scott Cahan for Readers’ Favorite


Books are available from Amazon in paperback and Kindle formats.
Read it free with Kindle Unlimited, & Soon they will be
Available as audiobooks, too!
https://www.amazon.com/Rising-Wind-3-book-series/dp/B093PRX88L/




A Special Shard Story From ‘Rays of One Light’ – not yet published of the ‘Rising Wind Series’ from Book 7…

~ DianeOlsenAuthor ~ Leave a comment

 
The Weaver and the Princess
From Rays of One Light
Three-Part Story…


Secora James and Destiny Hawkins arrived at the ranch just as the sun rose on the last day in the Baja desert. Soon, they would have to return to their jobs at the University in Missoula and offer summer classes. Once they parked, they found horses saddled and waiting for them inside the vertical pole corral.

“Only two horses. Guess we’ll be going in alone again,” observed Secora. Pointing to the fence, Destiny asked, “Don’t those poles look like those spindly boojum trees we ran into yesterday?” Secora nodded, “Interesting observation.” After tightening the cinches on the bay and placing the bridle over the mare’s head, she tied the halter and rope with leather strings set near the saddle horn, and her gear bag was bunched at the back of the cantle.

A young woman wearing a protective pink and gray rebozo shawl over her head and shoulders came to greet them at the corral, humbly notifying them that her husband, Alfonso, could not take them out because he was still sick. Apologizing in broken English, she suggested a trail that would lead them to the nearest painted rocks. She added that several of the large murals were more difficult to find, but these smaller ones could be found just off the trail.

She smiled, then cautioned in Spanish, “Watch out for the spirits.”
“Spirits, Pepita?” Secora asked.
“Yes, the blessed spirits who move silently… like ghosts.”
“We will try to be respectful, thank you.” Secora and Destiny looked at each other, wondering how to interpret her words. Then, bidding Pepita and Alfonso, who waved weakly from the door a good day, the women mounted up and took the suggested trail

Destiny asked, “So, is “anima” ghost… or spirit?

Secora shrugged. After a moment, she sighed. “Perhaps she knows about some tragedy in that area. Guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Right, I suppose, spirits are everywhere.”
Hooves clattered over a thin, stony trail; half hidden on the side hill. Secora drew a breath. “This is our last chance to see the place where little Diegoaelurus, the precursor to mammalian predators once roamed.”

Destiny added, “Hopefully, we’ll be lucky enough to take in a boldly painted black and red mural.” They headed for a low ridge that dropped down into a basin toward the west, where they hoped to observe some of the impressive art left by the Archaic people who lived there more than 10,000 years ago.

Destiny reflected, “I hope we don’t get lost.”

Secora said, “We won’t. I usually turn around every few hundred feet to see what the trail will look like on our way back.”

“Yeah, and I guess we could take pictures of the main features in case we get stuck.”

“Good idea.” Secora nodded and lifted her camera. 

The changes and chances of weather and rainfall in the Baja Peninsula required special adaptations from the plants, animals, and people who lived there. Secora noticed a variety of vegetation unexpected in a desert with such wildly variable rainfall patterns and extensive droughts.

Life forms took advantage of hidden pools and ephemeral rain. Yet they must somehow survive the rare monsoonal deluges produced by storms that struck the peninsula and roared their way inland. Gashes caused by massive flash floods ripped through the terrain, leaving driftwood and huge gravel ridges along their paths.

The horses sauntered down a dried creek bed, while the women scanned the cliff sides.
Would this be the day they’d catch a glimpse of something wonderful, striking petroglyphs, or perhaps one of the well-preserved red and black murals that had caused the region to be declared a World Heritage site comparable to European Cave Art? In the distance, they saw a few wispy pines, stunted cedars, and century plants erupting from rock, gravel, or sand along the hillsides.

As they dropped into a narrow canyon, they cleared a tight corner and ran smack into a patch of jumping cholla cactus, strategically hanging over the trail. Destiny tried to steer clear, but one spike attached itself to the chestnut gelding’s mane and neck, causing him to toss his head and sidestep toward another branch. She dismounted to control the animal. “Ouch! Dang, we got too close.”

On foot, they carefully wended through a hundred feet of the dangerous spines before escaping the last of the beautiful but wicked cacti. Destiny tried to steady the gelding, while Secora grabbed a pair of needle-nosed pliers from her backpack and began plucking the painful spines from the horse’s neck. When he jerked his head, three spines ran into Destiny’s fingers. “Blast it!”


“Yeah, but it’s hard to deny how good it feels to let them do the walking.” They topped a second ridge and saw a set of beautiful palms and several species of euphorbia sprouting from the smaller side of the canyons along the arroyo.

Destiny was moved to comment, “It’s fascinating. When you look out to the horizon, lush greenery is what you see. It hardly looks like we’re in the midst of a hot, dry desert.” She stopped to take some photographs. “Oh look, I think that modest looking succulent near your horse’s leg might even be a lady slipper.”

“Couldn’t prove it by me. It’s getting on toward noon, but it’s too hot to think about eating, let alone categorizing succulents.” Destiny arched her back in a stretch. “I thought it was supposed to be cooler today, but… oof, it feels like an inferno.”

Secora pointed and spoke in a loud whisper, “There! I saw movement. Across the basin, over to our left. I think there were two or possibly three people.” “Out here?” Destiny was silent for a while as her eyes searched up and down the terrain. “People or ghosts? I can’t see anything.”

She used the telephoto to snap a picture in that direction, but her eyes saw nothing. “Where are they? Sure you didn’t see deer.”  “No, I’m pretty sure. I saw two, maybe three people walking at the base of that cliff across the basin. They were at that ruin across the way, beneath the stack of old log poles that might be remnants from a caved-in roof, but I don’t see them anymore.”

“If they were there, they probably sat down for a rest.”
“That’s certainly possible, Destiny. But now I’m seriously curious about why those old poles are clumped together.”
“Perhaps from a flash flood?”
“Could be, or they could be repurposed from an old construction site.”
Let’s go check.”

********* *********

These exciting mystery novels unfold in various multicultural settings around the globe across the first seven books. The series has received 5-Star Editorial Book Reviews from Book Influencers Reader’s Favorite, and it has won several awards, including the Book Excellence Award and the Christian Illumination Award, among others.

If you’re a reader or a movie enthusiast who loves the “Indiana Jones” saga and enjoys mystery, action, and adventure, you’ll love reading all seven books in the thrilling and gripping “Rising Wind” novel series.

Books are available from Amazon in paperback and Kindle.
Read it free with Kindle Unlimited, & Soon they will be
Available as audiobooks, too!
https://www.amazon.com/Rising-Wind-3-book-series/dp/B093PRX88L/


A Special Poem and New Shard Story for Valentine’s Day… Introducing The ‘Rising Wind’ Series of Novels and Book One ‘The Thunder Beings,’ and How The Series Begins.

~ DianeOlsenAuthor ~ Leave a comment


MIST

Early in the morning

In the wake of rain

The drowsy trees exist

Draped in silence

And a distant thunder

Rolls… along

Beads of sunlight drip

Off water spotted ferns

The forest now breathes

And a distant thunder

Rolls along. . .


**********



About Book One ~ The Thunder Beings

When impassioned paleontologist Secora James is summoned to South America to confirm or dispel rumors of a creature long thought extinct, she lands herself in more trouble than she had ever imagined. Secora knows that the Mapinguari, a giant ground sloth that rivals King Kong for size, is probably just a local myth dreamed up by the indigenous tribes. 
Or is it?
Gideon Yellow Thunder is Montana’s top real estate broker and is perfectly content with his modern life, choosing to leave behind his Lakota heritage in order to lead a life of wealth and success. But when he starts having visions of bison on the open prairie, he feels compelled to act. . .
Now two separate lives are on a collision course as Gideon sets off for the jungles of Brazil to find a woman he’s never met and protect the sacred beings he’d long given up believing in—the Thunderbirds. Could they be real after all?
Or are they just a myth?
Gideon’s about to find out in an adventure of a lifetime, where everything he’d pushed aside is determined to leave its mark on his life.

*********

A Shard Story of Book One “The Thunder Beings”


A New Vision

Gideon Yellow Thunder shuddered back from his startling daydream. Mitch was squinting into his face, worry wrinkles etched onto his forehead. “You okay, dude? I heard you crash on the stairwell.”

********


Gideon Yellow Thunder tapped his pencil eraser on the desk as he finished a call from an eager business property buyer. He hung up thinking that was too easy. Kicking his chair back, he stretched and yawned. Then smiling confidently, he clipped together a few pages before standing up and slipping them neatly into a filing cabinet behind his desk.

Mitch, Gideon’s string bean of an assistant, and Jeannie, their resourceful secretary, were setting up a snack table for a party celebrating the continued success of Treasuremont Realty as it successfully shifted its way through Y2K.

“You’d think a hundred people were coming.” Gideon smiled. “We’ll have leftover snacks for the rest of the year.” He closed the file drawer and wandered over for a cup of punch.

“Hey, Jeannie, hope the company lasts as long as all these snacks.”

“That’s your job, sugar.”

He grinned, then sipped, “Yum, Seven-Up and…?”

“Cranberry juice.”

“I was just going to say that. Here’s to us!”

The office crew was about the only “family” Gideon acknowledged, though he had a younger sister who attended the local university. Jane was a nice girl, but their paths never seemed to cross. When she wasn’t attending classes, she took her breaks on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, staying with their mother, grandmother, and her son, Kyah.

The old doublewide on Bigfoot Road was twelve hours away, but that was still too close for Gideon. He wanted to stay as far away as he possibly could from his childhood home and the dysfunction he remembered.

Gideon’s eyes focused solidly on Mitch, who was now moving toward him with a certificate and a gift box. “What’s this stuff?” “Another annual certificate of appreciation from the Montana International Business Brokers Association saying you’re the best, and a little acknowledgment from your partner.” Mitch tipped his head in the direction of Glen Greenbriar, then popped a Frito into his mouth and wandered off.

Glen sat slumped in his chair with his chin idly cupped in one hand, adding drops of Angostura bitters to his whisky with the other to make his favorite drink, an old-fashioned. His desk sported a figurine Gideon hadn’t noticed before—a shrunken head. The face had brown skin, and a shiny green tooth, and bore a caption: My Retirement Plan.

That’s odd, thought Gideon, for several reasons. He glanced over the certificate, then surveyed the crowded wall behind his desk. Where the heck am I going to put this one? He sighed and set the certificate on his polished monkey wood desk. Grabbing the box with smooth manicured fingers, Gideon began to rummage through the curious assortment of packing materials. “Keep digging,” offered Glen. At length, Gideon located a two-inch clear plastic case in the midst of all the newspaper shreds and styrofoam peanuts.
“Wow, Glen, a penknife?”
He flipped it over. Hmm, no engraving. He sorted the box and packing materials into his garbage and recycling bins. Stray bits drifted to the floor.
While he was gathering the shreds, his hand bumped across a small object. He brought up a white marble that looked like it had been squished, the kind that people sometimes put into vases. Closer examination showed it had green specks peeking through. That’s different. He popped it into his shirt pocket. He turned toward Glen and pressed a finger thoughtfully against his lips regarding his partner whose wavy red hair was turning mostly gray. “What’s the knife for? I already have a letter opener.”

Between crunched chips, Glen made a suggestion. “Go skin a buffalo.”

“What… Excuse me?” Gideon stammered in shock.

“You’re an Indian, aren’t you?”

“You know I am. Why is that important?”

No answer. Gideon narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t minded that he had been hired to do the heavy lifting, while Glen phased out and retired. He’d even shrugged off the fact that his colleague had no love for anyone whose skin tones were different from his own. He learned early on from Mitch that Glen’s great-great-grandfather had been part of the 7th US Cavalry and an eager participant in two massacres during the late 1800s. These actions, no doubt, affected Gideon’s family, personally. Mitch said that Glen believed his ancestor was justified in the killings, regardless of the truth that time had since revealed.

Gideon tapped the table with anxious fingers. Maybe Glen had a tumor, or a demon on his tail. Maybe his great-great-grandfather was looking for a comeback. Whatever the cause, this was not business as usual.

“I was going to get you a bronze plaque partner, but…” Glen fidgeted with his glass, then belched. “Well, never mind, the plaque will have to wait. You got the damn award, and we got you that fine piece of cutlery.” His blue eyes turned to ice. “Clearly, Gideon, you’re worth every cent.”

Gideon Yellow Thunder was taken by surprise and rubbed his brow. Glen got up from his chair and stormed toward the buffet. Something was definitely fractured in their partnership, and he wondered how much longer the arrangement would last.

Eight and a half years ago, he’d given a talk at a business conference in Seattle on Seizing the Day. Glen had approached him afterward using words like “impressive” and “charismatic” that poured from his lips. Glen’s eyes smiled as he used phrases like “changemaker” and “closer” and “just the man.” Gideon would fit right in at Glen’s classy realty shop.

Despite Gideon’s hesitation to move to Missoula, Montana, he’d been excited about working for a legend in the profession. At first, the praise was almost constant. Glen assured Gideon he was doing the work of any three decent agents. Things had been good. But honest interaction between them was quickly fading. With a sigh, he put on his headphones and pulled up the quarterly accounting spreadsheets on his computer.

He flicked through several screens before he slowed down to focus on the figures for travel expenses. 
Something’s off. 
His finger traced the lines of expenditures that seemed not only out of place but way out of line with their budget. His calculator couldn’t make the problem go away and suddenly, there was more than racism bothering him.
Perhaps he had just uncovered one source of the problems with their partnership. Before he said anything to Glen, he’d check the figures against the budget history with an external accountant. He copied the questionable expenses onto a DVD, which he slid into his back pocket while exiting the computer.

He cleared the desk except for the new certificate and snatched his silk and cashmere suit coat from a hall tree. As he slid into the jacket, Gideon lifted his hair, which was neatly longer in the back, over his collar. He noticed Glen’s eyes were fixed on him. For show, he flipped the little silver steel knife into the air, smiled, then dropped it into his pocket.
“Never know when a knife will come in handy.” Glen growled, “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Not feeling well. I think I need to stay away from the punch.”

“You think Jeannie spiked it?”

Gideon shrugged.
“Well, go ahead, partner, enjoy a long easy weekend.
But if you’re not back Monday, Stevenson here will have your job.”

Gideon returned and placed his hands on Glen’s desk, looking directly into his eyes, he said slowly, “What are you getting at?”
“Don’t think you’re irreplaceable.” Glen emptied the whisky bottle into his glass.
Gideon’s mood plunged. “We’re partners.”

Greenbriar stared back and smacked the whisky bottle down on the desk, causing the new bauble to jiggle.

“Take it easy, Glen.” I’m not just talking about the drinking. Yellow Thunder wrinkled his brow and pushed his hands away from the desk. He pointed to the shrunken head. “That’s new. A souvenir?”

The stand for the head was surrounded by a tiny terrarium. Little palm trees sprouted from a white beach made of squished marbles like the one he’d found on the floor.
Glen grinned like a hyena. “Something like that.”

“Aren’t their mouths usually sewn shut like their eyes?”

“Yeah, but I had custom dentures made for this guy.” Glen brushed a finger against his nose. “He’s smiling because he’s a retiree. Kinda like I’ll be, very soon.”

Gideon became momentarily distracted when he thought he heard the boom of distant thunder. But the sunny sky out the window gave no sign of a storm. He shrugged it off and started to leave the office. “Bye, everybody. Have a fantastic weekend.” Jeannie and Mitch looked surprised.

Gideon offered as an explanation, “Not feeling too great.” Suddenly that statement felt very real. Two steps into the stairwell Gideon’s tall frame collapsed. He nearly fell to the first stair as he grabbed for the rail. Lightning flashed, and immediately the thunderclap boomed and echoed. 

That was way too close, he thought. I smell ozone. Clouds swarmed in his mind’s eye. He tried to shake them off, but now he could feel and hear the shrieking wind around him as he watched the storm descend on a Pine Ridge meadow.

At first, the bison calves danced and charged the gusty air, but before long, a strangely rising wind caused them to bawl and bolt for the herd’s protected inner circle. The growling of distant thunder disturbed a few of the anxious cows, who raised their muzzles from the summer grass.

The mothers began to call and sniff their babies. The cottonwoods by Porcupine Creek lifted the white undersides of their leaves as they beckoned and ached for the rain. Thunderheads swallowed the last eerie yellow light, and the storm was on. Thunder crashed over the land and the animals. The small bison herd froze with foreboding.

Swift darkness swept over the herd-like sinister magic once, then twice. Two of the calves were gone with the crack of thunder. The trees bent even further, and the squall splattered fat raindrops on nearby rocks. Next came the hail, smashing and bouncing through a bunch of grass and bushes, obliterating everything from view.

Gideon Yellow Thunder shuddered back from his startling daydream. Mitch was squinting into his face, worry wrinkles etched onto his forehead. “You okay, dude? I heard you crash on the stairwell.”

Gideon rallied, shaking the strong prairie images that had assailed him without warning. Mitch sighed with relief and helped Gideon to his feet. “Thanks, Mitch, I’m not feeling well. Better get home.
See you Monday.”

Mitch didn’t seem convinced, so Gideon made himself smile, however weakly, and wobbled down the steps, his hands gripping the railings. He still couldn’t believe it. His thoughts had just been violently overtaken by a vision of bison and the shadows of gigantic birds. Why in the world? How? He’d tried so hard to push that Indian nonsense away from him and now this…this daydream that made no sense, literally came crashing down around him.
“Unbelievable, he murmured to no one”
Outside, he was surprised to see slate-colored clouds crawling across the sky, rapidly consuming what had been a bright afternoon. He choked in the muggy air. Loosening his tie and opening the shirt collar, he stepped over the curb to cross the street to his car. A bank clock read two-thirty, and traffic was slow. Almost no one was visible on streets that would be swamped within half an hour. He fumbled with the knife in his pocket. “Just about useless.“

Sparkles of distant lightning danced among the blue-black clouds that billowed in. He shivered. It reminded him of the strange daydream that seemed so real. Gideon reached the other side of the street just as lightning flashed with a nearly simultaneous thunderclap. Damn, that couldn’t have been even a thousand yards away. Am I in that blinking dream again? 
He looked up to the stormy sky. A metallic light flashed from the roof of his office building across the street. He squinted to get a better view, shading the last of the sunlight from his eyes with his hand. His attention was snatched from the roof by the shadow of a low-flying plane that came ripping through the clouds. Stunned, Gideon dropped his arms and stood by his car in total disbelief.

A whining sound increased as the approaching craft quickly descended. Its shadow swept over him just as his driver’s side window shattered only inches from his hand. His jaw dropped as he noticed a visible pit appear in the passenger door. Upholstery stuffing, that was hanging precariously, fell to the floor. Finally, able to react, he panicked and crept around to the more protected side of the BMW.

Is someone shooting at me? 
From the back tire, he lifted his head a few inches to take another peek. Amazingly, the plane he’d thought was perhaps a Cessna 182 flapped its wings. The whooshing sound across the feathers of a bird, whose body size exceeded three times that of an ostrich, sounded like a cross between the shriek of wind through a well-ventilated abandoned shack and the reverberating impact of thunder—comparable to a jet engine. The avian zeroed in on a man with a rifle standing on the rooftop while Gideon gaped in astonishment. Just then, a sharp sizzle of lightning turned the world a silent white. . .

**********

Momentarily, Gideon was one with a warm golden-white universe. Atom for atom, he was willed into motion with millions of superheated particles. For that awesome interval, he was part of the oneness of all matter and energy, a unified component of all that existed. He was One.After an unfathomable increment of time, he separated and returned to semi-consciousness, his senses hyper-aware. There was an overwhelming aroma of pine needles, and the staccato beat of raindrops bounced from the car’s roof. He tried to move, but everything went dark“…



Readers can now read the full story about Gideon and Secora within the first book that begins their journey in the ‘Rising Wind series!’ Packed with romance and exciting mysteries they solve around the globe!

The full series is now available on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback. https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B01LWDB4K7/allbooks

Let’s Connect>> https://dianeolsenauthor.allauthor.com/



Happy I’ve Been Awarded Two Stellar Book Reviews From Readers Favorite For My “The Rising Wind Series” Books One & Two… Book Two Releasing Soon!

~ DianeOlsenAuthor ~ 12 Comments


Hello Friends, Readers, and Visitors,


It has been a very long while since I have posted on blog and I do apologize as I have been feverishly writing after I released RISING WIND: The Thunder Beings. It seems GOD had other plans for me to continue the story of Sercora and Gideon and now it has become a three book series!

Especially after this nasty COVID and pandemic, I decided to go for it and began writing the next books. Well, the writing and work is done for the rest of this series. If you have not had a chance to dive into book one, The Thunder Beings of Rising Wind, below I am sharing some exciting NEWS…

Even though Thunder Beings is already out and released? My publicist and I submitted all three books to the series through a literary influencer, Readers Favorite to get a feel of how good or bad (LOL) the manuscripts were. Below is the answers!

I really do hope you will grab a copy of Book One and begin the exciting journey of this series. It is packed with action and adventure, with a native American feel, and a multicultural mystery and throughout the essence of HOPE like no other book you have read. I am almost ready to release book two titled Ice and Bone, and then book three the finale.

I am today sharing the reviews I have gotten and I am so pleased with the results and reviews!
ENJOY!

~Diane Olsen, Author


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Rising Wind: The Thunder Beings

The Thunder Beings (The Rising Wind Series) by Diane Olsen
Fiction – Adventure
253 Pages
Reviewed on 02/24/2021

Rising Wind


BOOK REVIEW

Reviewed by Scott Cahan for Readers’ Favorite

Readers’ Favorite announces the review of the Fiction – Adventure book “Rising Wind” by Diane Olsen, currently available at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0692096507.

Rising Wind: The Thunder Beings (Book One) by Diane Olsen is a story of adventure and spirituality. The story follows a man and a woman who don’t know each other at first but they are drawn together by a mysterious thunderbird that is supposed to be extinct. Secora is a paleontologist who goes to South America to track another animal that was also thought to be extinct, a giant sloth. In the process of finding the sloth, she stirs up all kinds of trouble and soon finds a group of assassins after her.

Meanwhile, Gideon, a native American Indian who has left the ways and beliefs of his heritage behind, keeps having visions. A thunderbird is appearing to him and leading him to step out of his comfort zone and go to South America to help a woman he’s never met to fulfill a mysterious mission.

Rising Wind is an effective mixture of science, spirituality, and adventure. There is just enough science present in the story to make the giant sloth and a small race of people called the Duendes seem like they could be real. The book is also filled with lots of spirituality involving beliefs from several different religions. The most prevalent is from Native Americans which is how the thunderbird is explained. I’ve already mentioned the adventure aspect, but I’ll add that the story moves at a good pace, making every scene intriguing and at times exciting.

This book has a good cast of characters, all with unique and relatable personalities. Rising Wind by Diane Olsen is the first book in a series. It will be interesting to see more of the thunderbirds and other strange creatures as the series unfolds. I highly suggest this read! https://readersfavorite.com/book-review/rising-wind



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Temp Cover For Ice and Bone


Reviewed By: Scott Cahan

Review Rating: Rising Wind: Ice and Bone (Book Two Unpublished – Series)

5 Stars – Congratulations on your 5-star review!

Ice and Bone by Diane Olsen is part two in the Rising Wind series. You could read this book as a stand-alone without reading the first one as the author does a decent job of bringing her readers up to speed, but my recommendation is to read part 1, The Thunder Beings, first if possible. The story is somewhat complex with lots of characters and it could get confusing if your first introduction to the series is Ice and Bone.

The best way I can think of to describe the Rising Wind series is as something akin to the Indiana Jones movies with a stronger emphasis on the science behind the archaeology, a female lead, and a bunch of spirituality thrown into the mix. In Ice and Bone, the discovery of ancient human remains, in a place where science and history say they shouldn’t be, sets off a chain of events that pull our heroes, Secora and Gideon, into all kinds of new dangers. Will they and their budding romance survive?

And what will become of Secora’s newly adopted baby, Monta? Secora is forced to bring her child along as she and her friends trek through the jungles of South America, trying to stay one step ahead of those who will stop at nothing to prevent the new archaeological discovery from being made public.

Rising Wind: Ice and Bone is a gripping thrill ride full of action and colorful characters. Author Diane Olsen does a great job of balancing the fast-moving plot with interesting interactions between her characters. The science behind the discoveries in the book is also handled very well and expertly woven into the story to make it all feel very believable.

Fans of archaeology fiction based on real science are sure to enjoy Ice and Bone as well as its predecessor, The Thunder Beings. Step aside, Indiana Jones; a new hero, Secora James, has arrived to dig up controversial discoveries and protect them from the evil forces who want to steal them and use them for evil.

I highly recommend Rising Wind: Ice and Bone.





AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY


Award-winning Author, Diane Olsen, is the prolific writer and award-winning author of her debut book titled; “Ancient Ways: The Roots of Religion,” a bronze medal winner given by Illumination Book Awards.

Ancient Ways is thought-provoking and an informative look at the development and evolution of religion throughout time and a well-considered concept – the idea of a connective thread of monotheistic faith throughout history from the birth of human creation.

Now comes her new release titled; “RISING WIND: The Thunder Beings” (Book One a Series.) Adapted from an original screenplay Diane wrote several years ago, she has now written it for all her readers to enjoy as an amazing Fiction, Action-Adventure, with Super Natural and Mystery elements.

Diane was born in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and she now lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest and the State of Washington. Diane was an Undergrad at Colorado State University Ft. Collins: Pre-vet med, Anthropology, then attended and received her BA and MA at the University of Montana, Missoula: Anthropology, Archaeology, and Paleontology. She was a Graduate Teaching Assistant for two years.

Diane enjoys writing, reading good books, spending time with her grandkids, and loves cooking. A few of her favorite books are ‘The Book of Certitude (Kitab-i-Iqan), The Upanishads, and The Great Initiates.’ She resides in the Pacific Northwest in WA. State.


Shiny 5 Star Seal
Book Two – Unpublished of Rising Wind: “Ice and Bone”
Won a 5-Star Review




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