What gives my life meaning? To make a difference, using my creativity to uplift and inspire. “Einstein’s Compass a YA Time Traveler Adventure” is not just a story to me. It’s a mission to share with the world what one young not so famous young boy did with his determination and courage. I chose Albert Einstein’s story because like him I too struggled with family issues, abuse, and thrown away. Yet he used his creative imagination and followed his dream to know what time is, what is light, and changed the world.  People who dream inspire me. We need everyday people who become heroes to remind us to dream. A compass Albert’s his father gave him when he was a boy was more than a direction finder. It became a dream, his moral code to stay on course. Albert had courage, the heart to continue his journey, no matter who stood in his way or what tried to stop him. In this time of darkness, find your spiritual compass. Maybe you too can change the world.

Einstein’s Compass a YA Time Traveler Adventure – The Spiritual Compass

Johann flushed with the praise. Then his face became serious. “Why is Albert’s compass so important, Moses?” Though a relative newcomer to the astral realm, Johann had acclimated quickly. He no longer stared wide-eyed at the celestial beings who visited this place often, and he had come into acceptance of his new life with remarkable ease thanks to the compassion and abundance of love accorded him by all he met.

Moses directed him to the bench next to the oak tree and gestured for him to sit. “What do you know about the compass, Johann?”

The novice sat and considered the question. Johann tapped his lips with one finger, then, after a brief pause, said, “Usually a compass is used to find your way. It points to the magnetic north of the Earth so you can get your bearings.” He paused again. “But I have seen Albert’s compass do magical things. So, I’m guessing this is no ordinary device.”

Moses smiled and nodded. “It is indeed quite unique. Albert’s compass, when used with love, can create supernatural occurrences.” Moses smiled again at Johann and said, “Think back to when Albert first showed you the compass and you saw the number thirty-three projected from it into the air before you.”

Johann’s eyes glimmered at the memory. “We were just young children when that happened. In fact, we had just met. How did you know about the number?”

Moses smiled, “Let’s just say that I have been aware of you and Albert for a long time. Now think of what Albert did that caused the number to appear.”

Johann’s face lit up as the memory returned. “I think Albert put the compass to his chest. He said he loved his papa for giving him the compass. Then it happened.”

“Yes, yes that’s it,” Moses said approvingly.

Adapt and change are key during this time of Covid. When Einstein’s Compass a YA Time Traveler Adventure won Reader’s Favorite Honorable Mention in 2019 the novel received a free three-month relaunch from Allen Media Strategies in Washington, D.C… Instead of in store book signings Burke Allen and his team are planning presentations with Zoom into Books Webcast with Headline Books. Zoom into Books is fun and educational video presentations. There will be an opportunity to purchase an autographed book and watch the author personalize it to you or your child. EIN Presswire release on Einstein’s Compass multiple news outlets will carry that on their website. Burke Media will share the links with me, which I may use to promote on your social media platforms/website. Pitch/Email blast on importance of Science and how to get kids excited about Science as schools in more and more states decide whether to open online lessons in the Fall. Burke Media will contact schools and libraries for zoom presentations. I am on Story Monster website as a professional speaker, “Increase Your Personal Power of Thought and Imagination. Go Inward, Trust Yourself”. This is how Albert Einstein’s mind experiments and creativity helped him hold on to his dream to know what time is, what is light. #Covid #Zoom

Spring 1895
Thought Experiment

Six male students in their mid-teens dressed in wool suits, starched white shirts, and blue-and-yellow neckties sat two by two in a single row, anxiously awaiting the start of class. Albert had enrolled in Aarau High School after his unsuccessful attempt to enter the Polytechnic. He had passed the math and science section of the exam with flying colors. Yet the test showed Albert needed more study in languages, biology, literature, political science, and botany. While somewhat disappointed with the test results, he saw it would only take a year at Aarau before he could get to the Polytechnic, and he was okay with that.

The smell of fresh white chalk stimulated Albert’s mind. He focused on the three Hs the headmaster, Professor Winteler, wrote on the blackboard; the principles of teaching the school followed.

Heart – to explore what students want to learn. To develop their moral qualities, such as helping others.

Head – to understand objects, concepts, and experiences.

Hand – to learn the craft of doing excellent work and develop their physical skills.

Completing his writing with a flourish, the teacher turned to face his class. His brown eyes twinkled, and there was genuine warmth and enthusiasm in his voice as he said, “I have found that people learn more easily accessing their intuition, their inner powers than they do through their minds.”

In the front row, Albert relaxed. For the first time in his school life, the reject from the Gymnasium in Germany felt connected.

The wise professor put down the chalk and rubbed his hands together. He adjusted his spectacles and said, “Our first exercise will be a thought experiment. It will assist us when we want to consider a hypothesis or theory when the purpose is to think through by steps to its consequences. This practice will increase your personal power of thought and imagination. What’s more,” he said with a smile, “by going inward, you trust yourself.”

A sandy-haired student raised his hand, and the professor acknowledged him. “Yes, Gregory, you have a question?”

“I do, sir,” the boy said as he stood.

The professor smiled. “Good. I encourage questions. What do you have?”

“In this mind experiment, do we have our eyes open or closed?”

“For our first experiment, you will have your eyes closed. Though I am sure sometimes during the day, you find yourself in a daydream where your mind is drifting in space even with your eyes open.” Gregory nodded as the professor continued. “We will use a what-if, dreamy kind of imagination to allow you to create possibilities.”

As Gregory sat down, the professor instructed, “Now I want you to remove your jackets, loosen your ties, and sit up straight with your arms and legs uncrossed. Place your hands on your thighs, palms up.”

The students did so and waited for the next direction.

“Close your eyes and take a slow, deep breath,” Winteler said. “Inhale, then slowly let go of all the air in your lungs.” He paused for a few seconds. “Again, this time breathe in more slowly.” As the students did this, he paused, then said, “Hold the air inside.” He paused again. “Let go of all the air, slowly. Allow your body to relax. Keep your eyes closed and focus on your breath going in and out. If your mind chatters, just acknowledge that, then bring your focus back to your breathing.”

Albert sat with his back straight, though it relaxed him, surrendering his mind. Lost in the experience, the dreamer did not even hear what the teacher said next because he found himself enveloped in a warm glow, and he felt like he was rising above the Earth.

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To dream of an impossible dream? What is time, what is light? Albert gave it all, his heart, mind and soul to know the answers. The budding scientist wanted a professorship after graduating from the Polytechnic. However, his professors refused to write letters of recommendations. Instead, his friend Michael Besso found him a job at the Swiss Patent Office. He was not excited at first, but saw this was his best opportunity for his experiments. At the Patent Office Albert helped and co-authored many inventions. He had the freedom to come and go as he pleased. With full reign of his creativity he could understand the unforeseen forces of the universe.Reaching past known knowledge he pieced together fragments of scientists before him and took a leap of faith into the unknown.

 

Einstein’s Compass a YA Time Traveler Adventure – Chapter 23

Albert threw the letter down on his desk and began pacing. “Fools!”

He was referring to professors Weber and Pernat of the Physics Department at the Polytechnic. They had declined to recommend him for a teaching position now that he had graduated. Albert had sought to locate Professor Meiss who had, at least at first, seemed to understand Albert’s passion for innovative work. But he had become distant and then mysteriously disappeared.

As with most of his education, the general physics classes he took at the Swiss Federal Polytechnical School did not engage Albert. As a result, he had alienated mainly the professors there when he embarked on a course of independent study to learn firsthand from the masters. He wished his idols, James Clerk Maxwell and Ludwig Boltzmann, the pioneers and founders of the kinetic theory of matter could have taught him.

Albert had often skipped classes, studied the latest research, and then naively wondered why the school’s faculty turned him down when he sought a referral to teach. The fact was, his professors understood his genius, but would not tolerate his lack of respect for them or the traditional theories of physics that they taught.

After four years of study, by the end of October 1900, Albert was no longer a student, and he was jobless. He had churned out job applications and letters, and by 1901, had a truly impressive stack of rejection postcards. Albert wondered if anti-Semitism played a role in his inability to land a job. The jury was out on that.

Nearing desperation, Albert reached out to his school friend Michael Besso, who had wandered around for a while after graduating and then became an engineer in Italy. Of all the people Albert knew, aside from his fiancée, Besso was his closest friend. But friendship or not, even he could not help.

Feeling thwarted at every turn, a ray of hope came through his former classmate and college friend Michael Grossman, with whom Albert would often ditch class and go to the cafes to debate “real” science. Michael had learned of an opportunity at the Swiss Patent Office. Michael’s father knew the director of there and offered to recommend Albert for the position. Although it was not anything close to what Albert had dreamt of as his first position after graduation, he was now at the point of entertaining any possibility. Albert hoped to hear soon whether he was accepted for the job.

* * *

The sun would not rise for another three hours, but Albert was awake. Dressed in his bathrobe and slippers, he was bleary-eyed from too much coffee and not enough sleep. Anxious about his cash running out and still without a job, he sat at the kitchen table piled high with notebooks that were crammed with math equations. In pursuit of an answer to his life’s predicament, he drew his twelve-jeweled compass from his bathrobe pocket.

As it often did, the compass triggered memories of the day when his father offered him not just a brass direction finder but also awakened him to the quest to discover the unforeseen forces of the universe. Albert brought the compass closer to his heart and closed his eyes. As Arka had taught him, he repeated the blessing to activate the compass.

Almost as soon as he completed the prayer, Albert heard a guitar playing and a man with a Scottish accent singing a Robert Burns poem, “Comin’ Thro’ the Rye.” As the music became more explicit, an image formed. It shocked Albert to see James Clerk Maxwell, who had studied and reported on electricity as early as 1855. Maxwell’s work on electromagnetism, kinetic theory, and thermodynamics won him every scientific honor of his time. His most significant discovery, though, followed his equations for electromagnetism, which were called the second grand unification in physics, following the first from Sir Isaac Newton.

A devout evangelical Presbyterian and elder in the Scottish Church, Maxwell completed his song, then said to Albert, “Aye, boy-o, what you seek is beyond math. What principles of the many disciplines you have learned have you mastered? The Lord sees the universe in harmony. Find the unity in all.”

As the first light of dawn hit his eyes, it startled Albert awaken from his reverie, the compass still gripped securely in his palm. Inspiration struck him like a physical blow, and he exclaimed, “Oh, I understand how to merge my work on capillarity to Boltzmann’s theory of gases!” Albert hurriedly put the compass back in his pocket and started scribbling away in his notebook.

* * *

The senior Grossman’s recommendation did the trick, and they hired Albert at the patent office. While it relieved him to have an income, science was still Albert’s first love. As a patent clerk, he analyzed technical designs and often collaborated with inventors by making recommendations on their experiments. Oddly, since Albert was fresh with contemporary theories and a fresh approach to step outside the box and plan a new direction in physics, the Swiss Patent Office became the ideal laboratory for his experiments.

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By: Jennifer Scott, Guest Post Writer

A good night’s sleep can be a powerful thing for managing your mental and physical health. But achieving enjoyable sleep can also be a paradox. Many issues that prevent enjoyable sleep are worse by a lack of sleep. If you have ever found yourself in this vicious cycle, you know how stuck it can make you feel. Luckily, starting fresh lifestyle changes can help get you back on track for better sleep.

Exercise Your Way to Better Sleep

Exercise helps you relax, but there are also scientific reasons that it can improve your sleep. Here are some facts to consider.

• Yoga can manage anxiety while also lessening pain and inflammation. Doing a daily session can help you get better sleep.
• Doing cardio an hour or two before bed might help. Exercise releases endorphins and causes your body temperature to rise. Once endorphins wear off and your body temp returns to normal, it may trigger sleepiness.

Reevaluate at Your Diet

Your diet can have a profound effect on how well you sleep at night. Here are a few dietary choices to consider.

• Being well hydrated throughout the day can help you sleep at night. However, drinking too much right before bed can disrupt your sleep.
• It’s best to avoid having any caffeine for at least four to six hours before going to bed.
• Alcohol affects how your brain releases the sleep hormone melatonin might. It makes you sleepy, but it can lead to a foggy head the next day.
• Similarly, excess sugar can wreak havoc on your sleep, as it increases inflammation, causes energy crashes.
• Overall, it’s not just what you eat, but when you eat. Having a meal too close to bedtime can cause heartburn and indigestion, which makes it harder to sleep well.

 Practice Nightly Rituals

Exercising and eating well during the day will help set you up for a good night’s sleep. However, having a healthy nighttime ritual is also important.

• Get in the habit of not looking at screens for at least two hours before bed. Studies show that blue light from these devices can disrupt your sleep by suppressing melatonin.
• Drink herbal teas with valerian root like Celestial Seasonings Tension Tamer.
• Try going to bed at the same time every night. Not only does consistency make it easier to sleep, it is also better for your mental health.
• Be sure to meditate on your fears and worries with intention during the day so that your mind is less likely to wander to what’s bothering you at night. Connect with Grace Allison, [email protected] for more information and insights into developing your spiritual wisdom. Check out her book, “Do You Have a Dream Workbook 5 Keys to Realize Your Dream”.

If you are having trouble sleeping and managing mental health conditions, there’s hope. The same steps you can take to improve your sleep will benefit your mental health, such as exercising and making healthy diet choices. It is incredibly frustrating when you cannot sleep well, but luckily, there are many ways to change your sleep patterns through lifestyle alone.

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A million years of evolution made Xhosa tough, but was it enough? She and her People finally reach their destination—a glorious land of tall grasses, few predators, and an abundance that seems limitless, but an enemy greater than any they have met so far threatens to end their dreams. If Xhosa can’t stop this one, she and her People must again flee.

 The Crossroads trilogy 850,000 years ago, a time in prehistory when man populated most of Eurasia. He was a violent species, fully capable of addressing the many hardships that threatened his survival except for one: future man, a smarter version of himself, one destined to obliterate all those who came before.

From prehistoric fiction author Jacqui Murray comes the unforgettable saga of a courageous woman who questions assumptions, searches for truth, and does what she must despite daunting opposition. Read the last chapter of her search for freedom, safety, and a new home.

 A perfect book for fans of Jean Auel and the Gears!

How to Add Drama to your Writing

By Jacqui Murray

Sometimes I read my WIP and even I get bored. Where’s all the excitement I stuffed into the plot, wrote and rewrote, thought was perfect? Excitement may be difficult to define but I know it when I read it. I ain’t reading it here.

If you have that problem, here are some suggestions from efriend writers:

• Look at your scenes. Is the drama predictable, or unbelievable? Is it a bridge too far or a euphemism too short? Or something else?
• A football fan friend of mine who’s also a writer explained what you want out of drama: Let’s say it’s the end of the season, and Notre Dame’s playoff hopes rest upon Penn State winning their final game (and they’re 0-11) — nothing else could help the Irish get in, no other combination of wins or losses, plane crashes, plague outbreaks, anything. I still want Penn State to lose. (Not intended to trigger Notre Dame or Penn State fans–just fun)
• If your drama is around romance, you need to make someone love the other like the devil loves sin.
• One friend says she throws in a fight when the plot bogs down.
• Leave more to the imagination. Don’t connect all the dots. Let the reader ponder over them.
• If you can’t get the drama to ratchet up, work on your characters. Daniel Silva is one of my favorite thriller writers. Here’s what he said about creating characters that are as interesting as the plot:

“Boswell … was one of those Americans who formed their impressions of life in the United Kingdom by watching reruns of Masterpiece Theater.”

I’m completely wrapped up in how Boswell sees the UK now.

• Writers Relief says this about the juxtaposition of characters and drama: “Amp up your character’s desires.”
• Build a character that sees rules as suggestions then have him break one every time things slow down.
• If you can’t get your readers to gasp with horror, at least let them chuckle. Add some humor.

Jacqui Murray is the author of the popular Building a Midshipman, the story of her daughter’s journey from high school to United States Naval Academy, the Rowe-Delamagente thrillers, and the Man vs. Nature saga. She is also the author/editor of over a hundred books on integrating tech into education, adjunct professor of technology in education, blog webmaster, an Amazon Vine Voice,  a columnist for NEA Today, and a freelance journalist on tech ed topics. Look for her next prehistoric fiction, Laws of Nature, Winter 2021. You can find her tech ed books at her publisher’s website, Structured Learning

 

              

Against All Odds – Book 3 – Crossroads Trilogy – Jacqui Murray

 

Excerpt: Chapter 1 

The foothills of the Pyrenees

 

They came out of the mountains, hair frozen in sparkling strands, hands and feet wrapped in shredded pelts, ribs etched against their skin under ragged hides white with snow, faces haggard with fatigue. Blood crusted scrapes and gashes, many recent, others almost healed, reminders of the violent struggles endured on their journey.

Though their steps flagged, not one of these upright creatures exhibited a hint of defeat. All males and a few females carried at least one spear, some two, many with warclubs strapped to their backs. Despite the anxiety and fear of entering this foreign land, hope energized them today, that their migration might be at an end.

All of them—Xhosa and her tribe, Pan-do and his, Wind, Zvi, and Seeker—had been chased from their homes by enemies. In their flight, they found each other. It took time to work through their differences but now they traveled side by side, respected ideas not theirs, and called themselves the People.

Their charismatic Leaders—Xhosa, Wind, and Pan-do—were known as reliable friends to those who earned their trust and dangerous enemies to those who opposed them. Two wolves—Spirit and Black Wolf—journeyed with them. Though the People lacked the animals’ sharp claws, dense fur, and piercing teeth, each considered the other “pack” and would defend them to death.

The exhausted group straggled down the gently sloping flank, feet shuffling carefully over the slippery scree. The ground changed from talus to stunted tufts of grass, sparse and brown which made walking easier. Optimism shone from their faces even as their tired eyes flicked side to side in search of unexpected movement, ears strained for out-of-place noises, and noses sniffed.

 Rather than continue across the meadow, Xhosa led the People into the shade of the edging forest.

“Do you smell it, Wind?” Anticipation filled her gestures.

She and Wind, pairmates and Co-Leaders, stood quietly, absorbing their surroundings. Light filtered lazily through the canopy, the shadowed ground dappled with patches of warmth. She sniffed in the essence of wet earth and rotting leaves, the mustiness of moss, and something else much more enticing.

“It’s there.” She pointed and strode forward, lengthening her stride.

An icy gust whipped down the hillside through the shadows and raised bumps on her arms but she ignored it. The forest gave way to open sky and searing heat. It was too hot for her thin pelt but she didn’t stop to remove it. Green stalks swayed as far as she could see, edged on one side by more mountains and the other by some sort of leaves and branches. Sunlight glinted off the rippled surface of a distant river as it curled over the terrain.

“Dung!” The scent overpowered every other odor.

Wind huffed to her side. “It’s been a long time since we smelled dung that wasn’t frozen.”

“We did it, Wind.” Her eyes glistened with relief.

For most of a Moon, dread gnawed at her courage and left her wondering if following the guidance of Seeker—a boy barely a man—was a mistake. But Seeker assured her in his ebullient way that once out of the hills, their new homebase would welcome them. Xhosa wanted to believe him because she wasn’t sure what else to do. Nor did she know what to do if it didn’t work.

Wind motioned, arms inclusive, “It’s beautiful, Xhosa.”

Siri, Pan-do, Ngili, the wolves Spirit and Black Wolf, and the rest of the People gathered around Xhosa and Wind, eyes locked on what lay in front of them.

Pan-do whispered, “We made it.” His eyes were moist, mouth open.

Ngili, the People’s Lead Hunter, motioned, hands close to his body. “With all this grass, Gazelle or Mammoth must be nearby.”

Dust, the Lead Scout, trotted up, coming from a tall cliff far ahead on their forward path. “I think there are caves there.”

The People hadn’t slept in a cave since leaving Viper and the Mountain Dwellers. It would be a treat if true.

Xhosa looked behind. Shadows already stretched as far from the bottom of the rocky slopes as sunlight to the top. Daylight would soon end.

“We have little time. Let’s rest and then see if those are caves.”

Ngili, the People’s Lead Hunter, motioned, fingers spaced out, palms up, “I’ll go with Dust to check.” He added a swift spread-fingered swipe with first one hand and then the other, followed by a quick bob of his head and a puff.

Xhosa brushed both hands down her sides. Go.

The People spoke with a complex combination of hand motions, facial expressions, body movements, and sounds augmented with chirrups, snaps, hisses, and whistles. By the time Ngili finished talking, Xhosa knew how many would join him, where they would go, and how long they’d be away. The People’s communication was sophisticated but quiet, a precaution especially in unfamiliar areas. Unusual sounds—voices, for example—stood out. All animals made noises, but few as varied as the People’s. Why alert Others who lived here to their presence? Xhosa would do that in her own time, in her own way.

Dust, Ngili, and two scouts soon receded into the landscape, the only evidence of their passage a slight disturbance in the slender waving stalks. Despite the dung scents, the abundant plant food, and the glisten of a faraway river, Xhosa crossed her arms over her chest and paced.

Something is wrong.

She searched the forests and the rippling field that had swallowed up Dust and Ngili . Xhosa possessed the ability to see great distances in sufficient detail to find trails, footprints, movement, or the glitter of sun off eyes.

She saw none of those and that made her more uncomfortable.

With this wealth of food and water, Others should be here.

Wind motioned, palms flattened against his chest, “The mountains we crossed touched Sun. They’re cold and barren. Few can do what we did to get here, Xhosa. We are safe.”

Xhosa could hear in his voice, see in his gestures, that despite his bravado, Wind too felt uneasy about what they didn’t see and hear.

But she grinned. “I don’t know how I survived without someone being able to read my thoughts.”

She trotted over to a stream that fed into the river she had noticed. She stretched out on her belly, flat on the soft grass at the water’s edge, and took a long, satisfying drink of the sweet liquid. Thirst quenched, she collected handfuls of the tender shoots of new plants growing along the shore, ate what she wanted and tossed the rest into a communal food pile that would be shared with all the People. It was already filling up with fat fish speared from the slow-moving pools beside the river, tasty reeds and cattails, and even a handful of eggs plucked from nests not hidden well enough along the shore and in the roots of trees. The wolves snapped birds from the air and swallowed them almost whole, coughing up feathers.

Xhosa leaned back on her hands, sniffing the unique fragrance of each groupmember. Zvi was sweaty from wrestling with Spirit. Siri smelled sourly of hunger, but she wouldn’t eat until Honey’s bleeding foot was wrapped in mulch and leaves. The females with new babies exuded the pleasant aroma of milk. Some scents jumbled together, making them impossible to identify. When Xhosa became Leader of the People, before it merged with Pan-do’s and Hawk’s, the People had been small enough that she could recognize everyone by their odor. Now, she kept track of her tribe while Pan-do did the same with his. Wind helped everyone.

Done eating, the People sprawled on the warm ground, soaking up Sun’s remaining rays, chatting contentedly with gestures and the occasional sigh. Water dripped from their thawing bodies, soaking into the thirsty ground, as the remaining ice and snow on their pelts and in their hair melted away.

Xhosa and Wind sat apart from the others, on a log long ago softened by rot. She uprooted handfuls of grass and wiped the sweat from Wind’s body, as he did hers. The soft scratch felt good and the earthy fragrance reminded her of times long gone. When he finished, she harvested chunks of green moss from the log’s decaying bark and stuffed them into her neck sack. All the People wore one of these around their necks. Even the wolves did when they were migrating.

Finished, she leaned against Wind and closed her eyes. In a group of Others, her pairmate stood out. A Big Head, the People’s traditional enemy, the ones who drove Xhosa and her tribe from their long-established home, Wind had earned Xhosa’s trust by saving her life more than once and then, as a member of her People, sharing Big Head spear tricks and warrior skills with her Leads. Before long, each of them individually told her that thanks to Wind they could now defeat an attack which they couldn’t have done in the past. Whatever distrust her People harbored toward him faded away.

“Xhosa!” Dust panted up to her. “I found a cave. And we found trace of a herd. Ngili is tracking it.”

By the time Sun settled into its night nest, it ensconced the People in the cave Dust found. They had to squeeze together to fit, but it thrilled all to sleep without waking to frozen toes and numb fingers. Stone and Zvi—the burliest of the People—lugged rocks in and Siri built a fire that quickly warmed the interior. The subadults gathered kindling to feed it and arranged who would be responsible throughout the night for keeping it lit.

Usually, the wolves slept scattered among the People, but with Black Wolf close to delivering her pups, she dug out an opening in the back and claimed it as her den. Then she settled to her belly, one leg forward, the other bent back, eyebrows twitching.

Xhosa strode toward the nest she would share with Wind but stopped at the sight of Seeker, weight on his bottom, legs crossed in front of his body in the uncomfortable position he preferred. His pairmate Lyta curled next to him with their best friend, Zvi.

Xhosa approached Seeker. “You are not outside.”

Every night as long as Xhosa could remember, the enigmatic male lay on his back, gaze fixed steadily on the star-dotted sky, spouting what to Xhosa sounded like gibberish to whoever listened. Intermittently, he leapt to his feet and spun dizzying circles or bounced from one foot to the other, huffing and chirping. Lyta and Zvi would either join him or watch. He once explained to Xhosa that this was how he studied the changes in the night sky—the appearance and disappearance of particular stars or their movement in relation to each other—so he could guide the People accurately. This nightly process was how they had moved from the distant start of Endless Pond to this cave where Endless Pond seemed to end.

He didn’t respond to her statement, didn’t even acknowledge her. That worried Xhosa. She hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that danger lurked around them, somewhere. Seeker’s anxious look didn’t help.

She squatted at his side and added a question to her declaration. “The stars aren’t talking to you?”

To the side, Lyta wriggled, not comfortable in the seated position Seeker preferred but determined to try because Seeker liked it so much. Zvi crouched on the balls of her feet, the more traditional pose. She’d tried to sit on her bottom, legs crossed in front, but kept falling backward. Besides, it took her too long to rise from that position, which meant if Lyta needed help, she couldn’t respond quickly. Squatting, for her, made more sense. Seeker didn’t care. He expected all to do what worked for them. Both his best friend and his future pairmate were long accustomed to his eccentricities.

Finally, Seeker offered Xhosa only a confused frown.

That’s not a “Yes, they are,” and that raised the hair on her neck. Before she could ask more, Ngili scrambled through the thistle barrier the youngsters had placed around the cave’s mouth to prevent the entrance of intruders and hurried toward Xhosa.

He motioned, “I lost the herd’s trace in the dark. I’ll try again tomorrow,” and then raced toward where the hunters had gathered. They were all tired. Some would mate before sleeping but not Ngili. He hadn’t given up hope that his pairmate, Hecate, would come back.

After a last glance at Seeker, Xhosa joined Wind in their nest. She squatted behind him and teased the dirt and debris from his long head hair, occasionally focusing on a difficult tangle until her fingers could move easily through his hair. When she finished, he did the same for her.

As he groomed, he said, “I’ll join Ngili tomorrow. If there are herds, we will find them.”

“Pan-do and I will continue with the People.”

They said nothing more, both enjoying the calming feel of nails scratching on their skin and the intimacy of someone they trusted implicitly. Done, both fell asleep.

The first rays of daylight filtered into the cave. Black Wolf was already outside, padding back and forth restlessly, huffing uncomfortably. Wind left with Ngili and a handful of scouts, knowing Xhosa would leave a trail to wherever they settled when Sun’s light ran out. Though Spirit usually went with the hunters, today he stayed with Black Wolf.

Xhosa and Pan-do led. Dust copied their pace and direction, but a distance away. With Ngili and Wind searching for meat, Xhosa focused on finding a cave large enough for the People. They strode onward, gaze sweeping the landscape, everyone grazing on berries, roots, and worms as they walked. Sporadically, Xhosa heard a faraway squawk or glimpsed a covey of birds as they exploded into flight, fleeing an unknown threat. It was the direction Ngili and Wind had told her how far they’d gotten.

The People rested by a waterhole. They searched its shoreline for prints but found none. Wherever the herds lived, they didn’t drink here, so the People moved on, through copses of young saplings and around a bed of haphazardly strewn boulders. The air tasted of flowers, warm earth, and the mild tang of salt, but the dung they found was hard and old.

Xhosa touched Pan-do’s hand, and both stopped, eyes forward. “Do you smell that? It reminds me of Endless Pond.”

He pointed to his powerful side and the direction they were walking. “From there and there. How can it be on two sides?”

Xhosa tingled. One of her People—Rainbow—had abandoned them long ago, taking many males and females with him. Others she and her People ran into while migrating here told her Rainbow traveled the same route she did but along the opposite shore of Endless Pond. For him, as for her, this was as far as he could go without a folding back on himself.

If they got this far. If any survived.

She pushed aside those thoughts. Before searching for whatever remnants remained of Rainbow’s group, the People must find a home base. All they suffered to get here—the interminable walking, losing Hawk, the death of group members, Nightshade’s treachery—was for naught if they didn’t establish a home.

Spirit bumped her leg. Black Wolf panted at her mate’s side, her belly almost touching the ground.

Xhosa motioned, “Your mate’s pups won’t wait much longer. We will find a den for her.”

Spirit took off, his movements graceful and fluid with Black Wolf lumbering after him.

Not much later, Pan-do squinted ahead. “I think Spirit found a cave.”

Xhosa leaned forward, narrowing her gaze, and finally saw where Spirit stopped. He sat on his haunches at the base of a cliff, facing her, nose twitching, tail swishing the dirt behind him.

It took the rest of the day to cross over the craggy scrubland, up and down the deep ravines, and around the occasional spot of slippery ice. The cave proved too small for the People but not for Black Wolf’s needs. With much scuffling and panting, she created a nest for her pups and disappeared into the cool black hole. The People settled outside, under an overhang that would protect them from rain and predators, and far enough away to not bother the new mother. As soon as Ngili and Wind arrived, shaking their heads they hadn’t found a herd, they left again to search for signs of a trail left by former inhabitants of this cave.

Xhosa’s chest squeezed, and her stomach knotted. Spirit padded up to her side, hackles puffed, nostrils flaring. He agreed. Something about this area made her tingle but for now, until Black Wolf finished, they must stay.

 

Book information:

 Title and author: Against All Odds

Series: Book 3 in the Crossroads series

Genre: Prehistoric fiction

Digitally (print soon) at: Kindle US   Kindle UK   Kindle CA   Kindle AU

Author bio:

Jacqui Murray is the author of the popular Building a Midshipman, the story of her daughter’s journey from high school to United States Naval Academy, the Rowe-Delamagente thrillers, and the Man vs. Nature saga. She is also adjunct professor of technology in education, blog webmaster, an Amazon Vine Voice,  a columnist for  NEA Today, and a freelance journalist on tech ed topics. Look for her next prehistoric fiction, Laws of Nature, Book 2 in the Dawn of Humanity trilogy, Winter 2021.

 

Social Media contacts:

 

Amazon Author Page:        https://www.amazon.com/Jacqui-Murray/e/B002E78CQQ/

Blog:                                       https://worddreams.wordpress.com

Instagram:                             https://www.instagram.com/jacquimurraywriter/

LinkedIn:                                http://linkedin.com/in/jacquimurray

Pinterest:                                http://pinterest.com/askatechteacher

Twitter:                                   http://twitter.com/worddreams

Website:                                 https://jacquimurray.net

 

 

“…a riveting fantasy about soul-searching and growth which will keep young adult readers engrossed to the end.” —D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

How did Albert Einstein come up with his wondrous theories of light and time?

In Einstein’s Compass: A YA Time Traveler Adventure, a young Albert is gifted a supernatural compass that allows him to travel through time and space. He finds wisdom in other dimensions, like the lost city of Atlantis, but evil forces seek the power of the compass, including a monstrous, shape-shifting dragon from a different age.

Can the compass protect Albert from such villainy?

 

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This is a thriller chapter where we find three animals. Raka, the evil dragon and doppelganger, the Hoopoe Bird, and a squirrel. Raka finds Albert because he saw the Hoopoe Bird perched outside the alehouse. Little does the dragon know what the little protector can do. Walking in the black night you can feel the hot slimy breath of Raka surreptitiously stalking Albert. As Raka sneaked up behind Albert, his deadly weapon readied out of nowhere like a missile, the Hoopoe Bird drops from the sky. The bird’s sharp beak pierces the stalker’s eye. Surprise! The dragon stumbles and loses control of his cane. The needle covered in a lethal dose of poison shoots out and finds a squirrel. Poor scorched tree rat shrivels up into a puddle of ooze. Unaware of the dragon and what has just happened, Albert sees the squirrel burn up like crisp toast. He shakes his head in disbelief, mounts his bicycle and heads home. The twists and turns of Einstein’s Compass are just beginning. The science fiction fantasy will keep you wanting more.

Einstein's Compass a YA Time Traveler Adventure - Chapter 10 Excerpt

Raka was deep in thought, speculating on what he had heard when he saw the younger man reach into his pocket and pull out his money clip along with a round, brass device. Raka held his breath. There it was, his treasure! He wanted to jump up and grab it but had enough presence of mind to know that was not the way to achieve his aim. In the excitement of seeing the Shamir, Raka’s concentration weakened, and the illusion of his human form faded. Scales appeared on his face. He rubbed his hands over his cheeks quickly, and his soft, human complexion returned. Shaking with anticipation, his proximity overwhelmed Raka to the prize he had sought for millennia. As Albert and Max stood up and made their way to the front door, neither noticed the blond gentleman at the table behind them.

Raka waited until Max and Albert had left the alehouse before he tossed a few coins on the table and followed. As he exited the building, he saw Max walking to the left and Albert going right to fetch his bicycle at the library. Raka grinned and moved along the cobblestone street toward Albert, melting into the pitch-black night. Albert rounded the corner of the now-dark library and walked to where he had parked his bike. Lost in thoughts of his future, he was unaware of Raka approaching him from behind. Panting in anticipation, Raka prepared to strike, cosmic law be damned. He readied his weapon by pressing the dragon’s ruby eyes and exposing the toxic steel needle. Just as he aimed, out of nowhere, the hoopoe bird flew straight into the evil lizard, its pointed bill piercing his left eye. Raka stifled a cry and crouched to the ground in pain as the swift bird flew away.

Pulled from his musing by the muffled sound, Albert looked around. But the night was wicked, and he saw neither Raka nor the weapon which fell from his grasp as the lizard covered his wounded eye. The walking stick tumbled to the cobblestone pavement, and the poisoned needle tip broke with a snap, bouncing onto a squirrel nearby, causing it to chatter angrily. As he was placing his leg over his bicycle, Albert heard the noise and saw the little rodent scurry past him. Because it was so dark, Albert did not believe his eyes as the creature’s fur smoked and the animal appeared to disintegrate into a puddle of ooze. Albert shook his head, chiding himself for the way his eyes deceived him. He pulled the collar of his coat tighter around him to protect himself from the cutting wind.

Muttering soundless curses at the hoopoe bird, Raka skulked in the darkness, attempting to tend his wound. Far from fatal for the changeling, it was painful enough to demand his attention. He cursed himself soundly for his over-eagerness and realized what he had nearly done. The price he would have paid, he realized, would have been too high, even for the Shamir. He would not make that mistake again.

Walking in the dark, wintry night, Raka vowed to lay a far more foolproof plan. Yes, it would take time. Yes, he would have to be patient. But he would not let the Shamir slip through his clutches again. A plan formed in his mind—one that involved other humans. Like a precious seed, he would nurture it until it blossomed and bore fruit.

Astride his bicycle, Albert pedaled toward his aunt’s house, his mind filled with thoughts of a much brighter future. Not far behind, the hoopoe flew, ever vigilant, watching for the potential dangers of which Albert was blissfully unaware.