The Romance Reviews

Wednesday 18 November 2009

How Special is December 21, 2012... the end of the Mayan Calendar?

Well, there’s the new movie. It’s going gangbusters, right now. No, I haven’t seen it and I’m not certain I really want to, given some of the comments I’ve heard. No, cell phones wouldn’t work the way they’re portrayed. So, really, how realistic is the catastrophic depiction?

Hollywood wants the blockbuster. The mega money. The movie isn’t about a probable well-researched outcome. It’s about what will bring in the millions, maybe billions of dollars. Any measure of real truth is sacrificed.

On paranormal radio programs, like Coast to Coast am and Unknown Country, for example, 2012 is one of the big! hot in-demand topics that a lot of us want to learn everything we can about. And, there is tons o’ info out there. There are comprehensive books by well-known investigators in the alternative fields. And, of course, if you search in internet land, you’ll find a veritable banquet of opinion, prophecy and hard astronomy data about 12-21-2012.

Did you know, as reported by the incomparable, hard-data researcher, Richard C. Hoagland of http://enterprisemission.com/, and author of the New York Times bestseller, Dark Mission... at least, from one of his trusted inside sources, there is a 2012 desk at the CIA? Supposedly, it’s been there for a long, long time. Okay, how weird would it be if someone at the CIA has read WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS, my 2012 erotic romance novel?

Actually, not so far-fetched, given there are black op agencies that keep track of all the fictional novels in the sci fi or paranormal subgenres. So, what do they know that we don’t? Yes, authors do write their personal stories as fiction like Whitley Strieber did in his novel, The Grays. Hey, maybe, that’s what they’re looking for. Maybe...? Since, it wouldn’t be the first time a novel has given an accurate picture of the future. Nope, that’s occurred repeatedly.

Of course, I’m deeply prejudicial. However, I think my 2012 novel is far superior to the movie, and has a more profound message. How come? It’s really quite simple. I did lots of research, in fact, it’s been a lifetime’s worth of research. And, yes, some of my life’s experiences are included as part of the story. It’s as truthful a telling about the future, even though it’s an angelic fantasy, as I could imagine, then pen.

For Sedona, my heroine in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS, December 2012, the 21st, could be called miraculously special for her in several ways. Finding love with Volcano, her carnal cherub hero, is the most special, of course.

For an idea just how special meeting Volcano is for Sedona, here’s the beginning of their story ~

PG excerpt:

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year,” Sedona badly sang, just to dryly entertain herself. “Especially if you’re seasonally depressed and have no vitamin D,” she sarcastically stretched. “Oh by golly, 2012‘s not Christmas holly, oh by golly, the endtimes aren’t jolly. Is our salvation just unholy folly?”

Sedona drove along the old one-lane highway southwest of what used to be Flagstaff, Arizona. Once the catastrophes lined up like the breadlines, it had become a FEMA /military base of operation. She had been fortunate to bypass the checkpoints without being stopped, and hauled off to the closest camp, then forced into some ungodly way of existence. Death was always preferable. And few her age cared anymore. No reason, no reason, at all.

As usual she wondered about the great mystery. Why? Why am I still alive? In these unbelievably ugly times, with evil alive and well everywhere. Is it the grace of Goddess?

It could only be grace. Only some strange miraculous grace that she still lived. The why of it? Sedona possessed no earthly clue.

True, she could summon psychic abilities as naturally as she breathed, in certain crucial instances, especially healing. Whenever the soft glow of ‘knowing’ occurred inside her, she could simply touch a person or an animal, and the healing would instantly take place. Yet, she couldn’t just heal anyone who needed it. And certainly, her abilities didn’t compare to other well-known Psychic/Healers.

Still, she’d never fit in, not anywhere. And talk about choosing the ‘road less traveled’, she could be the iconic poster person on that book cover. Not that real books were available these days, except on the dangerous black market.

Briefly, Sedona shook her head, wanting to get rid of the angst over her survival. In truth, she envied all those who died, their spirits traveling to the other side. Human or animal, it didn’t matter. Sedona envied them. Especially when she saw all the corpses, common now, and literally piled up the world over. She blessed them all to heaven and desperately wished, aching-wished she could join them.

But she never had. Not yet.

Sighing, Sedona watched the impressive light show in the night sky. All around her asteroids arced constantly, some flashing out before they struck. Most of the stars couldn’t be seen, hidden by the ash haze of Mexico’s erupting volcanoes, hellish explosions she’d watched on an illegal TV feed. While hard on her lungs and eyes, the ash made the spy satellites useless, a victory in her book, since it impeded the net tight control of Homeland Security.

The steady rain of asteroids for the last thirty-five days had been strangely beautiful, yet deadly to large land areas on Earth, and sometimes to remaining population centers. Yet, it also prevented the Homeland Hordes from rounding up the desired or eliminating the undesired. Slowly enough not to trigger the watch beams, her old early ‘90s van clumped along. Five years ago Sedona had eliminated every electronic device, and replaced the engine with an antique which had been converted to use water as fuel, although now, clean water was scarce in most places.

No electronics, no herd-control implanted chips, and a lot less chance of being caught, then charged with a crime against the state. Any crime, it didn’t matter anymore. Jaywalking could be considered a crime against the state, even a possible terrorist act.

Recently a man had been convicted as a terrorist for halting the progress of an enforcement vehicle, and sent away to the most grueling work station, simply because he jaywalked. That was life inside what some now called and accepted as the North American Union.

Sedona didn’t accept it. Had never accepted it. She had neutralized every chip. But she couldn’t fight as a New Rebel either, even though she had trained the last five years to a high fitness level.

Sixty-one years of age, she no longer had the stamina needed for that noble sacrifice. The New Rebels were always on the run, or attacking. Nor did she have the tech expertise, the brilliance to manipulate the big brother chips and the Darth Vader web systems.

Having no family left, and not much of anything left, with her land stolen by the police state since it still produced crops, Sedona helped out wherever she could. And merely existed. Now she drove to a friend’s hidden sanctuary, invited when they’d managed to talk over a shortwave radio.

Sedona grimaced at the irony of driving through Sedona, her namesake. Now deserted, the new age haven had been brutally wiped out by the New World Order’s bio-terrorism. Yep, the message had been cruelly delivered to all those who believed in sacred-creating an enlightened global order.

In 2012 fear reigned. For most everyone.

Seeing no one, she drove in silence. Even having an old radio on, if a signal could be snagged, upped her chances of being caught. “Run silent, run deep,” she quoted, ignoring the eery chill in her gut.

“Fear rules everything. Okay, maybe not for those lucky enough to be at Maya Toga Days,” she mumbled, half-elated, half-repulsed by the idea. “Maybe a big fat miracle or two. The great solar flare of enlightenment courtesy of sun cycle 24.” She took a breath, musing. “I don’t suppose they have Christmas tree lights on the pyramid. Serpent lights, yeah, that’s the ticket. The ticket to paradise. The tree of life. Let’s all jump for joy. It’s a new kind of holly jolly Christmas. The garden of Eden returned, where the feathered serpents are Santas, delivering toys.”

“Oh no.” Despair settled in her stomach like a rock. Her van slowed, clunking offensive loud noises. “It’s a good day to die. Good night to die.”

Her own whisper knifed her insides, as she guided the rolling van toward the crumbling edge of the neglected highway. “Maybe the coyotes will get me first. Rather feed the wildlife,” she muttered.
~~~~~~

Excerpt #2 -

Before Sedona could take more than a few steps, the cycle rider appeared, a whispering hum of sound. No lights, the cycle and the rider’s garments blended in with the night. Ten feet in front of her, the rider seemed to wait for her to approach. Obviously, this was no Homeland Nazi. She would have been on the ground, tasered, and probably dead. Certainly twitching in agony.

Tensed to escape, she watched the rider remove his or her helmet. His helmet. He looked young from what she could see. Not a whole helluva lot, since the darkness ruled all.

“Get on,” he invited. “Looks like you need a friendly lift.”

Good Lord, his voice melted her insides. The movie star caliber of Tom Cruise, only better. Or what used to be considered movie star sexy. Not anymore. You might as well have Hitler speaking English in the current horror offering of movies to the mind-numbed public.

“I could be dangerous,” she answered, trying to decide—not like there were many options. Him or Homeland, or run toward land she couldn’t really see worth an effing damn. She took a few steps toward him. If he was going to kill her, maybe it would be quick.

“The Nazerazzi are more dangerous,” he offered, his tone practical. “And on their way. Enough room behind me for you and your bag.”

Sedona sighed loudly, and decisively moved toward him. “Old Spice,” she awe-muttered. “Where did you find that?”

“Dad’s stuff.”

Reaching back, he slid open the compartment, and Sedona stuffed her bag inside. “Goddess!” she warned. The searching lights of Homeland Security Hummers blazed in the distance Instantly, he closed the compartment, and she swung behind him.

“Tight,” he commanded as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Rebel?” she asked, just before he peeled out, then veered away from the advancing headlight’s phalanx. Sedona squeezed her eyes closed, feeling the wind whip over her. When she opened them, they flew over the land. And off the highway. No wheels beneath them.

Cool as rare cucumbers, she thought. Rich rebel?

Behind them she heard the drone trackers, the slight whistling. If she screamed to him about their presence, that would only make it worse, and make tracking them easier. Suddenly they soared through a narrow rock arch. And she heard the drones smash like giant wasps. Relieved, she sang inside with the temporary victory.

Slowing his cycle, her maybe rescuer executed a ninety degree turn to the left, then they streaked through an immense canyon. Sedona only knew because he beamed his lights, a dim wide-sweeping radiance. Slowing again, he slid them through a small cave entrance. Quickly they cruised a winding irregular path through cave tunnels.

Fear began in the pit of her stomach. But it was too late now. Was she about to be blood sacrificed to one of the New World Order cults? Their underground compounds snaked throughout the continent.

Her blood freezing at the thought, she also knew part of her didn’t care. Goddess help her, she was so tired, and so horribly worn out. The long sleep of death, who would care? Or, waking up on the other side to loved ones seemed more than welcome, just given her probable future. Too bad and so sad, in a bizarre way. From what she could feel clinging to him, the young man would be as movie star sexy as his voice.

Mmm-mmm, he did feel hunk-delicious.

Sacrificed by an evil could-be movie star, to the rise of the New World Order. There was something hideously ironic about that. But she couldn’t think clearly or cleverly what. Just too bad this wasn’t one of her fantasies. Where he starred as the good guy who wanted her body, wanted her real damn bad. Like Rhett carrying Scarlett up the stairs, bad. Wanted her body as it had once been, and hotly, passionately ravished her. Yeah, too bad.

Everything was too bad. The whole world was too bad, now. She tried to forget about her life, what had been. She tried to forget everyone, everything she’d lost. God, when she remembered, the horror of it all ripped through her, unbearable excruciating pain. Sedona wondered if the blood sacrifice would be as painful.

Most days she wondered how she even stood up, and kept going. Maybe her life, everything she’d endured, would be worth it, if she could save the world. Maybe worth it. Sedona had her doubts. Still, how often had she wished she could save the world, and truly help people? The number of stars in the sky? Oh, how she’d tried her best and with her whole heart. Now, she was just too darn old.

They stopped inside a small empty cavern. Warm, it was luminous enough to see. The cycle settled perfectly, and remained upright.

“We’ll walk the rest of way. Are you okay?” He removed his helmet and turned back to her when she released his waist.

“What are you going to do with me?” She leaned back, stared at his features, handsome and adorable. Almost magical.

“Protect you, angelic one.”

Sedona blinked, his voice inflection utterly unfamiliar to her, not to mention the kindness of his tone. Swinging her leg over, she slid off the cycle. “You don’t want me for some sort of sick blood sacrifice?”

“I am not your enemy, Sedona.” He gleamed a brief smile, then easily dismounted. Opening the compartment, he took out her bag.

She stepped back, and kept staring. “How do you know my name. Or the name I now use?”

“I am on assignment. My sacred duty is to protect you.”

He lifted her bag beneath one arm, then faced her. Reaching out, he removed her hood, his touch extreme gentleness.

“Why?” she stammered, as much from his touch, as by his extraordinarily beautiful eyes. Purple midnight, silvered. He wasn’t merely Earth human. Whoever, whatever he was?

“The future of Earth depends upon it.”
~~~~~~

HAVE A WONDERFUL THANKSGIVING

~ MAY ALL YOUR READING DREAMS COME TRUE ~


Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

~~~

Sedona & Volcano invite you to read their love story ~
WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth...Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes? ~ available from BookStrand ~ http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~ http://bookstrand.com/ ~ NOW IN PRINT ~ An Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com/ ~
Volcano’s Angelic Forecast for this week ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com/ ~ http://www.bookstrand.com/product-whenagoodangelfalls-10981-192.html ~
~~~~~~

13 comments:

Savanna Kougar said...

Hi, from the future...

Lindsay Townsend said...

Savanna - I'm a huge fan of your WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS. I think it's an amazing, original story, and I love your carnal cherub Volcano!

The end-times you so vividly describe in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS are very topical now, with all that is happening in the world. And there is the small matter, as you point out, of the Mayan prediction for 2012...

Excellent blog and excellent excerpts.

Francesca Prescott said...

Savanna, I loved When a Good Angel Falls; as you know, your "swoony" writing gets me every time. I haven't seen the movie yet, although my daughter has - she said it was fun, a little long maybe, but good entertainment.

I hope this book will enjoy more success, maybe riding on the movie's tail? Hey, they should make a movie out of your book! Would be fabulous!

Savanna Kougar said...

Lindsay, Volcano sends you a big divine smooch and says consider taking that deal that seems a bit dubious. It won't be.

Savanna Kougar said...

Lindsay, Volcano sends you a big divine smooch and if you have a question for him, ask.

Savanna Kougar said...

Okay, blogger was being really weird. That's why there's two postings.

Savanna Kougar said...

Francesca, that would be a good thing if Angel could take advantage of the movie's success.

Heck, I wish a movie could be made. However, some of the biggest names in the know about 2012 ~ Hollywood has just tossed them aside, refusing to do movies from their books, after optioning the books to make a movie.

LK Hunsaker said...

Since when does Hollywood care about fact? It's apparent they don't in military movies, also. That Army Wives show is atrociously non-factual and unrealistic.

I'm one who thinks the Mayans couldn't keep counting the years for eternity and simply stopped. *shrug* According to Nostradamus (and countless others), we shouldn't even be here now.

Anyway, Volcano and Sedona certainly sound like a fiery match!

Savanna Kougar said...

L.K. ~ true, Hollywood doesn't care about fact. I simply took that approach to present another view that has been deeply studied by many who hold doctorate degrees.

A lot of folks feel that way about the Mayan calendar, which is certainly understandable.
I would point out that it isn't only the Maya, but many other ancient traditions that hold a similar message about the end of this age and the beginning of the next age, including the Hopi.

My understanding from the research done is that Nostradamus' prophecies are open to interpretation given the complexity of his quatrains. I've certainly heard differing opinions, and other explanations of his prophecies.
And, like any good prophet, his words are meant as a warning, one that if heeded, can change the future.

Yep, Sedona and Volcano certainly heat each other up.

LK Hunsaker said...

Savanna, a change of ages I wouldn't argue. However, I think that also has a wide interpretation as to what it could mean. Too many look for any hint of "doomsday" and that bothers me. To focus on "maybe we won't be here in a few years" puts it in people's psyches that what they do won't matter, and that in itself can be very destructive. Too much of that and it's self-fulfilling.

My two cents. ;-)

I understood your Hollywood mention. Just agreeing.

Kaye Manro said...

Wow, Savanna! This is a great blog post. You have the best stories. The 2012 issue is cause for a pause for sure. Thanks for this post and info.

Savanna Kougar said...

L.K., It is destructive. That's one of the many reasons I wrote Angel.
For some reason, that I've never fully understand, there's a fascination with doomsday. I remember being on the grade school playground and these kids would come up and start talking about the end of the world, that it was coming soon.
I do see major changes ahead. And I don't think a lot of them are pretty.
But, it's a change of ages. And there will be opportunities to create anew.

Savanna Kougar said...

Kaye... blowing kisses your way!
Yes, it is something to contemplate, perhaps, a turning point, that will setup our future as a civilization.