Beyond the Sun

Description

Fifteen years ago Jared Bonatelli had it all. The
youngest son of one of the founding families in the Conservatorship of The Dark
Order he lived a life you only thought existed in novels and nightmares. After
becoming engaged to his childhood sweetheart, he loses it all in one violent
act. Since that night he has suffered reliving his fiancé's murder repeatedly
in his dreams. After an emergency meeting of the Conservatorship, Jared finds
that the comfortable world he lives is beginning to crumble at his feet.

Alexandra Toscano has been searching for the one assignment that could catapult
her journalistic career. When her editor Gene O'Hanlon drops a manila folder in
her lap, Alex is immediately skeptical. At first glance the information he hands
her seems like a publicity piece that is till she comes across an article he
wrote some fifteen years ago about Vampires murdering a young woman in Central
Park. But that isn't what intrigues her the most. It's the photo of the woman's
fiancé that captures her eye, Jared Bonatelli.

Now as Alex begins to dig deeper into Jared's life she begins to question her
own past. Could the answer she seeks be found in the glowing eyes of the one person
she is sworn to expose? Or will they both find themselves torn apart by a world
Beyond the Sun?

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About the Author

Author Name : Sandra Bischoff

     

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Latest Poem

My great grandfather was a Slave

My grandfather was a Native

My grandmother was a Bantu

My mother was a kaffir, Nigga, Negro

Names imposed by shackles

But an Afrakan I am

An identity my forefathers were deprived of

 

An identity I am now polluting with the fumes of cigarettes

In dope I am giving it another face

In ecstasy I am giving it a comical image

My drunken stupor gives it an unstable belonging

My borrowed accent contradicts what it represents

My imitated dress code conceals its beauty

My adopted religion undermines my intellectual prowess

My language deafens my ancestors

My values are valueless

My mind is discriminatory

It repels anything indigenous

Whilst absorbing all that is alien

None can identify with me

Even those I am emulating

Patriotism I reserve for my kind

I look down at my patriots

If I were xenophobic

I could have been my own victim

I pride myself in my slanted inferior education

An education promptly deleting my true history

Ignorance is my custom

I am dreaming dreams my forefathers cannot interpret

I am singing praise songs for my dying culture

I am branding a heritage

I cannot inherit

Knowledge of freedom is embedded in my subconscious

But suppressed by fear

Fear to develop my culture and identity

Fear to be rejected by the world

Fear to be different and still love myself

Yet with no identity I remain

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