Years of deception and
suppressed trauma do not prevent secrets from unraveling when parallel worlds
clash, intertwining families and exposing hidden agendas. An unwanted romance mirrored in an alternate
universe has devastating consequences for an unsuspecting young woman and a
mysterious stranger.
“There is a vast literary intellect behind Camille and The Bears of
Beisa - Drafnel, and it belongs to author Simone Salmon. The language is
transfixing, bewitching, erupting into that realm between an epic poem of
breakneck pace, and the clarity and rigor of an after-action report meant only
for a general’s eyes.
This story operates in many rich dimensions. It reads like a
graphic novel, but without need of illustrations, as the events explode like
fireworks in the mind’s eye. What an amazing piece of writing!”
Robert Blake Whitehill, Screenwriter, Author
The Ben Blackshaw Series,
Here’s what the critics are saying about
Drafnel:
"The structure and some of the themes of the book reminded me
of the movie The Fountain, which I adored. This idea of the same person
persisting in different forms across time and space, mostly through the power
of deep emotional connection to other people, really connected the two pieces
in my mind."
"Salmon’s use of folktales and specific stories to build out
the structure of this unfamiliar world, and to link it back to Camille’s story,
was a brilliant narrative device."
"Drafnel is Dune-like in the grandiose sweep of its
worldbuilding. The sci-fi universe Salmon creates, Narvina, with its eight
ruling clans and ornate power structures was intriguing. It was also refreshing
to read a great space opera like this where the people in charge are people of
color, and where the universe is a matriarchy."
BR Sanders, Clatter and Clank
“The scene's describing
Catherine's sojourn in Jamaica are the strongest section(s) of the book...”
“The writing in this section
is very contemporary and accurately reflects the self-confidence of young urban
women who feel they're on the cusp of great things and fully in control of
their personal destinies.”
“...a bit of writing that
stays with you a long time.”
Merrill Chapman, Rule-Set
Excerpt 1
Narvina, Nu-century 2055
Aknanka clamps down with all her might. Her teeth tear
into Sephia’s wrinkled skin, digging for chunks of flesh. They only grind
against bone. A fist smashes into her cheek, jerking her head sideways. Sephia
yanks her hand away right before Aknanka chomps down again. Blood gushes
everywhere.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Aknanka’s scream rages
through the interior, punching a small dent into the door. It slams shut.
Any experimenting she needs to conduct today will be done
right here. And without blindfolds. The metal restraints chafe Aknanka’s wrists
as she wriggles around for freedom.
“Stop fighting, Dreamer. You make this harder than it has
to be.”
“Bet you’ll think before trying that again, oh Wise One!”
Aknanka’s aim is accurate. Bloody sputum soils the middle of Sephia’s tunic.
A med-bot enters the room and stitches the bandages over
Sephia’s wound. The pale Elder clenches her fists. Her eyes blaze to match the
blood staining the floor. The med-bot’s front panel flashes, absorbing the
charge from Sephia’s quelled anger. Sparks bounce across the overloaded
circuits. The bot spins over to the sealed porthole and then powers down.
“These gene markers will soon confirm our suspicions,
Dreamer.” Sephia’s shoulders stiffen, tugging at the hood to expose her
protruding frontal lobe. Her white skull magnifies in the dimness. Her lips
never move.
Na-mum Camille warned Aknanka that the Elders would spare
no sympathy once they discover her true kinsatah.
She followed every painstaking instruction: the implants are undetectable, even
from their host.
Book Trailer:
Author Bio:
Simone Salmon, a Jamaican born New Yorker, is the mother of two
sons and a jack Russell terrier.
Simone is still working on her exit strategy
from Corporate America, but in the meantime she writes novels, poetry and
expands her multisensory perceptions.
She is a spiritual truth seeker who appreciates
psychic phenomena and timelessness.
Music of all kinds, warm weather, lounging on
the beach, and experiencing the unknown are just a few of her most favorite
things.
Excerpt 2
Jamaica, 20th Century
The food on display and the brilliant dyes of the
hand-loomed textiles hanging at the market made me homesick. The marketplace
crowded with vendors selling varied crafts and wares. The frenzied pitch of the
hagglers echoed under the tin roofs. Voluptuous women wearing multi-colored
wraps balanced huge straw baskets on cornbraided heads, while children darted
through stalls with jaws stuffed of toffee candy or juggled melting snow cones
with syrup-stained hands. Fruits ripening in the heat sweetened the layer of jerk
pork and chicken charring over coals inside huge metal drums.
At first Miss Mattie kept me close, but as the market
became more crowded her clenched fingers slackened. I searched the aisles,
worried about returning home empty-handed. Failing to find any spices, I
started making my way back to Miss Mattie and then noticed a young woman with a
basket tucked between her knees. Loose braids stuck out from under her head
scarf. Kind hazel eyes invited me forward. Curious, I bent over to check out
the samples. The woman pulled me closer and stuffed a piece of cloth into my
waistband.
“A gift from the Goling family, Miss. Put it in
safe-keeping. This has been my honor.”
Miss Mattie swooped in at my heels in a matter of seconds.
She sniffed the air several times and shoved me away from the vendor’s stall.
We left thirty minutes later, my impatience to unwrap the cloth’s contents
shielded.
Unpacking the supplies, I started dinner. Then, while the
meal simmered, I sneaked to my room and pulled out the puffed packet. Wrapped
inside were five cinnamon sticks. My smile must have been a mile wide. I
decided to add them to my hideaway after Miss Mattie left for church that
Sunday.
As my guardian angel instructed, I wrapped a small piece
under the ribbon tied around my braid. I noticed Miss Mattie’s immediate
reaction. Her harsh tone gentled and she even allowed me to eat with her at the
dining table. A welcomed change, my nerves were still on guard, unsure of how
long Miss Mattie’s tolerance would last. Against my better judgment, I decided
to ask about Caleb and Cassandra.
“Miss Mattie, do you think I can visit with my sister and
brother sometime soon?”
Growling, Miss Mattie cocked her head and then swung
around to face the door. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets. Her head
snapped back as she sniffed the air.
“Why are you sitting at this table?”
I warned you, Grandmother. Leave the table now!
Miss Mattie’s neck protruded as her limbs extended.
Fingers mutated into claws and hind legs ripped through her lower extremities.
Wiry tufts of hair sprouted all over her body. Her face contorted and elongated
as saliva slimed down enlarged jowls. My hand stifled the scream roaring
through my head.
Get up and walk away slowly. Do not turn your back on
it. Now!
Social Media Links:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/drafnel
Twitter: @miraclemindcoac
Blog: Origisims
Website: www.ssalmonauthor.com
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/simsalmon/
Preorder Links:
Amazon: http://getbook.at/ssalmon-drafnel
Bookgoodies: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B013TAU6AG
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