creation offers the opportunity to take from the table all that we ever need so we can acheive the best we ever dreamed. Thanks for visiting here.

"I confirm the subscription of this blog to the Paperblog service under the username biolaephesus60"

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Fallen Embers by Lauri J Owen.

It is like walking to a sea shore, admiring the waves and you are plunged clothes and all into the middle of it. You take few startled gulps wondering how the hell that happened and you suddenly know you have to swim or sink. Half of your mind is still searching for the beginning of the story but what the hell you are in page fifty. How did you get there? If you knew how you fell in , you might have an answer.
FALLEN EMBERS one hell of a story and finished reading, limbs strained, eyes heavy, dinner cold and back hurting and you are still hungry for more, I am still trying to understand. My confusion is simple, I am African so I know about the elements, the cycles and how we used them but a love affair of the elements, or shifters? Africans don’t find that odd but I found the almost scientific explanations interesting. I watched my dog warily after the first hundred pages had been devoured. I must congratulate Lauri. I was not so sure I was going to finish it but the darned book like Laszlo wouldn’t let go. Not even when I was sleepy. Kiera held my fire and fed it lovingly, slowly until the final gasping end. I loved Kiera, the strength of character she was given and of course like in all steamy romances Laszlo had me panting and in love with him before Kiera did.
I would have preferred to know the means of the sudden transportation or teleportation. Did Kiera willingly lose her desire for home because she never had one?. Some mysteries were never resolved. Was the curse of the tattoo ever lifted? What was the link between Hunter Daniels and Alex and the mystery was never fully explained. I would like to know if Lauri started a mystery and changed her mind half way to the story and wrote a romance instead. I came away asking some urgent questions, what was this a love affair, romance, adventure or dabble in magic?
At the end of the story I would wish to commend her for a fast paced story that held my attention and kept me reading which is the most endearing aspect of my read. I found my curiosity pricked enough to want to continue reading. I also wanted more, maybe that will satisfy the rationale for a sequel.
FALLEN EMBERS is good read any season and quite exciting.
I would recommend it for any age above sixteen.


Most Helpful Customer Reviews
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars The Beauty of Words August 18, 2012
Biola Olatunde's name even sounds like music. No wonder she can create a symphony with words. Those same words paint pictures more vivid than any photograph. As a teacher of music, and a fan of Biola Olatunde, I was excited to see her newest, published effort; Melodies of a Black Chant. Anyone who has had the privilege to read her work will know what I mean. Those who have not yet taken a most special journey to Africa should begin with the passage of beautiful poems.

The love that Biola Olatunde has for her country is obvious in her work. We, the readers are made privy to a country that has always been shrouded in mystery like the mist rising off its tepid waters. Biola's collection of poems takes us into the beauty of every day African life and gives a sense of the deep and lasting connection that runs between us all.

No one will be disappointed by this special journey.
 A sea of pictures August 19, 2012
By Skip454
Amazon Verified Purchase
The sea of pictures her words bring forth about her culture.
The life and death struggles of her people is poignant and focused in her poetry.
She brings forth the mysteries of Africa's way of life as only one who is there can.

Sample poem
he listened

as the men laughed
and preened
about their romantic successes

he went to the ancient one
for a love potion
that will bring
to his bed
his own love

seven red necked lizards
soaked in its own oils
with a ring
in the soil for seven nights
an assured night of passion
was promised

walking the village path
one moonlit night
he tapped a succulent waist
and led her
to his bed

the dawn broke warm and golden
he turned to see
his catch
she smiled
her teeth by dozen more than
the required number
and her laugh
was like a
horse in labour.

No comments:

Post a Comment