There it was
That first spark
Sputtering to life
Like pixie dust fireflies
Dancing round her head
Her blushing brow
Tattling the truth
Neath the flicker
Of a misty moon
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/night-landscape-tree-fairy-tale-2539411/
Today I’m excited to share the book, “Breaking the Mask,” written by a dear old friend of mine, Anthony Johnson (Aka Henry Game). Anthony was one of the first friends I made on WordPress, and I’m so happy to share his very first book with all of you. If you’re able, please share this post. Thanks! 😉 ~M
THE NOVEL
The book is Historical Fantasy that spans from 1530s England to the present day in New York City. It is a story of regret, of ambition; adventure; failure; love. But most of all, it is a story of finding forgiveness.
It is available on Amazon worldwide and will soon be available on all major distribution platforms as a POD service.
A brief introduction:
When you have decided that your time is at an end, and that it will come by your own hand, the countdown to the final event is when your deepest regret will come for you, and hard.
Yet for Henry, almost 500 years old, the newfound purpose of living to die has finally given him clarity. Life without the promise of death is meaningless and cyclical. The only thing left that scares him now is dying without explaining his actions, without saying he’s sorry for what he has done.
He uses his last days to set pen to paper, to gather his journals and accounts. His focus is finally clear, death has given him the impetus required to face his greatest shame before it is too late. He will tell his story, and be what may, he will have a clean conscience when the time comes to die.
The hope is to seek forgiveness from the son he shamelessly abandoned only days after the birth. Even if it is only words and memories that he offers, it is surely better than nothing. Yet what he creates is not just a recounting of secret history, it is also an honest explanation, a confession, of his darkest deeds and gravest sins; it is a parable that he hopes his own flesh and blood can learn from and hopefully not repeat the same mistakes.
The entries range from early sixteenth century to the present day; from setting the dinner table for evening meal on Good Friday 1532, to sailing across the Atlantic Ocean in 1814, onward to the war with the USA; from scaling the tower of Pope Clement VII, to eating gingerbread in the company of three extremely bizarre sisters and a very greedy young Germanic girl named Gretel.
We travel with Henry as he transforms from an innocent child into what he must become in order to survive the trials placed in his path. As those closest to him die, Henry turns away from love, allowing anger to fill the void. Rage becomes the fuel that stokes his fire. And he uses this inferno to numb the pain of loss. Before long we have a man with a good heart that does terrible things, and all in the name of revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge.
AMAZON LINKS:
Amazon-US – Breaking the Mask
Amazon-UK – Breaking the Mask
Amazon-AU – Breaking the Mask
AUTHOR BIO
Anthony hails from Bolton, England.
He has a passion for research and history, picking at the seams of documented events to unravel fresh perspective.
He now lives in Australia with his wife, two boys, dog, cat, & three chickens.
Breaking The Mask is his debut novel.
He sent me a story
One of passion through pictures
When words were no longer needed
Because our hearts
Had already become one
© 2019 Michelle Cook
This is us being us
So much passion
Very little restraint
Counting every second
Of each moment we have
Clinging to slivers
Of scarce opportunities
Enjoying every rendezvous
As if it could be our last
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/passion-lust-couple-popa-hands-5120120/
Once lost on the cusp
of a whisper in time,
is now something cultivated,
formed and fashioned.
Evidence composed
of a sacred memory.
Sprinkled with the essence
of a divine creator.
Recorded as proof
that our existence
has never been limited
to the meager
constraints of this world.
But instead,
“The Dream,”
that wonderful, beautiful dream,
goes far beyond…
Far beyond anything
we could ever imagine.
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-landscape-cave-sun-light-2945514/
In the still of the night
he came to me.
Kneeling beside me,
I could feel his feathery touch.
He was memorizing my features,
hoping I wouldn’t wake.
I was only pretending to be asleep,
enjoying the feel of his hand.
Desperately wanting to reach out,
but not daring to ruin the moment.
And I wondered about all he was thinking,
as he traced every crease on my face.
I wanted to open my eyes and smile,
as he placed warm kisses on my cheeks.
But I dared not even open one eye,
for I knew he’d then be gone.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-human-face-sleeping-lantern-4284892/
I see the way you look at me
With lust in your eyes
No real love to be found there
Underneath your disguise
And I’m tired of being the girl
Who says she doesn’t care
When nobody ever sees her
As if she’s really there
I can fulfill all your fantasies
But my true worth you’ll never see
As long as you keep looking
At the outside of me
© 2019 Michelle Cook
For a month of writing prompts, click here; The allurement of her resistance
Take these dreams
Which once were mine
And fashion them with
A new design
Turn them into something
Believable and strong
So that I might finally
Move along
I’m so tired of wishing
For things that can’t be
Open up my eyes
And help me see
A dose of reality
Is what I need
If ever I hope
To succeed
© 2019 Michelle Cook
A thought
An ember
Long gone
Before I remember
A memory
A curse
Inside my head
It only gets worse
A fantasy
A desire
Images racing
About to expire
An epiphany
The truth
Those memories
Weren’t waterproof
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Mmmm… scrumptious and smooth
Rolling around on your tongue
Your sour drop dreams
Have only just begun
Juicy goodness
Mouth-watering tang
Sure to cure
Your sugar craving pang
Can you taste it?
So sumptuously sweet and sour
It’s tempting to bite it
And completely devour
It doesn’t get much more
Splendiferous than this
I implore you to share it
With a warm luscious kiss
© 2018 Michelle Cook
For a full month of writing prompts, click here! Sour drop dreams
The days slipped away
Melting into the backdrop
And the past became the past
Fading into the indistinct landscape
A purple haze silently settled
Over this strange new horizon
And yet only a chosen few noticed
The significance of the change
It was the beginning of a new age
Soon to be known as the century of certainty
And the fragrance of newness
Infused the land with vitality and rebirth
Victory was on the threshold
Just waiting for her opportunity to pounce
Gushing with foresight
Trembling with anticipation
And in oblivious disarray
And also in light of all that was occuring
The commoners of this neoteric society
Blindly marched ahead
They stumbled in the dark
Towards an unknown fate
As the world made preparations
To swallow them whole
Mother-nature flashed an approving grin
And the earth shook in eagerness
For the end was finally near
A look of pleasure crossed both their faces
© 2018 Michelle Cook
For a full month of writing prompts, click here! The century of certainty
Fantastical beasts
They certainly were
Elusive oddities
Often covered in fur
Colorful creatures
In every shape and size
Sought mostly for
A worthless prize
Some were shy
And lived in dark cellars
And eventually became
Forest dwellers
Some were fierce
And lived in caves
They caused the most trouble
And almost never behaved
Some were silly
And lived by the sea
Those were the ones
Who were happy as can be
Some were curious
And lived in the cities
They thought the bright lights
Were oh so pretty
Those fantastical beasts
Were a curious lot
And it was a complete surprise
Whenever one was spot
Years have gone by now
Since any have been seen
And they say the last one
Was so awfully mean
But who could blame them
With the torture they faced
It seems they all picked up
And left in great haste
It’s hard to imagine
Such a creature could exist
If only they knew
How much they were missed
But that was then
And this is the now
If only things could change
Someway, somehow
© 2018 Michelle Cook
Originally written, October 2017
