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#FourthWallFriday – The narrow escape of A.K. Taylor

The cat woke me up by batting me int he face about an hour ago, she had black feathers hanging from her mouth smelling like sunshine. After I smiled a bit and stretching beginning to plan my day in the sun I realize it was still under 40 degrees outside and it would be a long time till the sun was going to warm her old bones enough to get a bird in the yard… Then… I remembered, it was freaking Friday and A.K. Taylor was scheduled for me to pop in and peek in on. I did not realize I was going to be sucked into conflict. At least I know where the crow feathers came from!

A.K. Taylor’s narrow escape

I decided to take a day off from my normal, average day and go to Rock Hawk, which isn’t a far drive from my house. I decided to visit the effigy and take on the trails for a much needed break and some outdoor fun. I brought a picnic lunch to enjoy after working up an appetite after the hiking. The picnic tables weren’t far from where I parked. Perfect.

Rock HawkWith camera in hand, I visited the Native American effigy itself—the tribe that built it was anyone’s guess. The bird made of small stones lie there in all its glory, as I took snapshots. These would look great on my blog and in my scrapbook. Off to the trails.

Not taking any trail in particular, I picked one that looked enticing and started walking. The manmade trail snaked its way into the woods. The smells of pine, hardwoods, water, and detritus fill my lungs. Birds are singing, crows are cawing, and squirrels are barking at me as I interrupt their playtime. Peaceful and tranquil. Well—except for the annoying high-pitched buzz of the mosquitoes at any rate. When spring comes, so do the swarms of the pesky insects. All part of living in middle Georgia I guess.

The park seemed to be almost vacant today except for a few kids on a field-trip  I guess that’s the way it is during the middle of the week. No one seemed to be on the trails right now…

A huge murder of crows flew into the air, startling me. They were cawing angrily, cussing out whom or whatever upset them. The squirrels joined in raising mortal Cain as they scattered into the trees and underbrush.

I paused a moment and looked around. A chipmunk ran out of the bushes squeaking his head off. Phew. Just a chipmunk. All that fuss over a wittle chipmunk…

Before I could move, an armored man jumped out of the bushes in front of me. He was dressed in black scale mail and plated armor that was black and silver, and wings spread up and down his chest. His helmet had wings that wrapped around his hard features. A red mohawk plume adorned his helmet with a smaller set of wings on either side of it. His hands were covered with silver hand guards; one was covered with a black glove, but the other was not. The gloved hand had a Bowie knife pointed at my throat. He also had other knives, and a machete on his belt, which held up a leather tasseled kilt, and an AK 47 was strapped to his shoulder. A cape trailed behind him giving him a menacing aura.

I squealed in surprise before my heart plugged my throat. Was this like some sort of Native American Spartan? He had the broad shoulders and the build to prove it. This guy seemed familiar—from somewhere. A horrible nightmare maybe?

“Hold it right there, Chosen One! Did you really think you could change your clothes and give me the slip? That disguise wouldn’t fool me! Not even a pair of those goofy glasses with a fake mustache and a clown suit could trick me! You think I’m a dumb musclehead, but I’ll show you!” he said with a snarl.

I put my hands up in surrender and shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, mister. I think you have me confused with somebody else. I’ve never seen you before in my life.” I think.

The man grinned with an evil, cocky sneer. “Always the comedian. The dumb Outsider act won’t work on me. You won’t think this is funny, when I haul you back to King Raven and Prince Bloodhawk.”

“What act? Chosen one for what? I seriously think there has been some sort of misunderstanding here…” Raven and Bloodhawk? I’ve heard those names before. Is this for real or some kind of a sick joke?

More armored men came out of the woods and surrounded me. They looked a lot like the other guy, but sans the fancy, red plume.

One of the newcomers, one who appeared to have the workings of a complete bumbling idiot, sniggered. “Easy snatch and grab, eh, Karo? Looks like Neiko’s loosing her touch! Hey, how did she change her clothes so fast?”

Karo shook his head at the speaker. “Dingeye, don’t be a moron,” he said, giving him the stink eye. “She’s gonna try something even thought it’s pointless—but it’s anyone’s guess as to what.”

Hearing these other names, it all began to make sense. Hawote was real, and I was standing in the HiddenLand for the first time—or realizing it at least. I had been mistaken for Neiko, and I was presently in the hands of her enemies, the Crackedskulls—well…at least one batch of her many foes anyway. Things didn’t look good. When they figured out I wasn’t her—I couldn’t finish that thought, but I could fill in the blanks with maiming, torture, and death. These guys didn’t like Outsiders, especially when they trespassed on their land or interrupted something big. At. All.

“Is this some kind of a joke? Last I checked it’s not Halloween. Are you supposed to be Kratos before he became cursed by Ares?” I said, trying to find some way to talk my way out of this. I definitely couldn’t fight my way out and take down ten highly trained warriors. In armor. Titanium armor—their own special recipe that was harder than tank armor. “I’m not this Neiko fella.” I knew Neiko was a girl, but playing completely dumb seemed the safest bet. “You mean Karo like the syrup?”

Karo’s fellow Crackedskulls had to stifle or hide their giggles.

Karo’s ungloved hand latched itself on my face. His grip was like a vise. “You think I’m that dumb or that this is funny? That’s the last time you insult my name! It has nothing to do with syrup! It means ‘Fierce Warrior’ in our language! Take her away!” he said in between clenched teeth.

A couple of the men grabbed me and twisted my arms behind my back.

“I always thought your name meant ‘Muscleheaded Bully’,” said a feminine voice with a mocking tone—from somewhere.

Karo let go of my face and looked around in surprise trying to pinpoint where the voice came from.

“You mean there are two of them?” asked Dingeye.

Karo glared at his bumbling counterpart. “You better be glad you aren’t in range of my fist right now. Do your job, ignoramus. Track! Find her!” he thundered.

Dingeye and six others left, leaving me with the general and the two who were keeping me.

“As for you, you have some explaining to do,” Karo said, thrusting his finger in my face while she sheathed the huge knife.

“Explain what, Crackedskull?” I said. Letting the cat out of the bag seemed much safer now since playing dumb only seemed to tick him off.

A blur came from behind him. The assailant turned and smacked Karo in his exposed face across is eyes with a small staff. Karo fell on his back. Hard. He was dazed for the moment.

The other two bruisers released me and faced attacker.

The assailant was a girl. She was my height, and much leaner and in-shape than I was. Her black hair was longer than mine and she was dressed in a camouflage tank top and shorts—I guess it was too hot or too conspicuous for buckskin. She wore feathers in her hair, a beaded headband, and Native American jewelry. Instead of the bright war paint Indians normally wore, she was wearing camouflage paint. She wasn’t trying to make a statement; she was trying to hide. It was Neiko the Kid, the Chosen One, in the flesh—she wasn’t a kid per se, it was one of her titles reflecting her status as a child warrior. She looked like she was in her early twenties. About ten or so years younger than I.

Karo’s two goons were trying to grab her, but she dodged their attacks and pummeled them with her two staves. Boy, she was fast as she bobbed, weaved, and smacked her contenders. For one so small she packed quite a punch.

Karo was standing up and turning to the melee behind him. He was going to ambush Neiko. If she was caught, we were both done. I knew what her fate was. Mine? Not so much. It wasn’t good to say the least.

Thinking fast, I ran up behind the general and gave him a low-blow kick below the belt from behind—as hard as I could—I just hoped there wasn’t any titanium underneath that leather kilt.

Karo dropped to his knees with a pinched scream and his features were crying mercy.

Neiko finished off the other two Crackedskulls and looked at me. “Hey, nice job! C’mon let’s get you outa here before the others come back. There are thirty more where they came from,” she said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me off the trail into the woods.

Neiko took me through the park off-road despite my protests about breaking park rules—apparently following park protocol was the last thing on her mind at the moment. The girl just didn’t stop when we went through some rough terrain. She had to practically drag me up the hills since I wasn’t as in-shape as I used to be. I liked going off road, but she was like lightning in a bottle. The briars tore my flesh when we had to go through the thick underbrush. I was also thinking about the abundance of chigger and seed tick bites as well. I didn’t wear any repellant since I wasn’t planning on bushwhacking. I also wondered if the rattlesnakes and copperheads were out yet.

We had to stay off the trails since the Crackedskulls had them covered very well. We had to outrun these guys a lot while we tried to make it back to my car through the bush so we both could be in the clear–hopefully. I felt like I was on an episode of Mantracker, except with guys who meant more serious business than trying to keep people from winning the prize money and the odds weren’t equal. The capture was for real and not an act. Real kidnapping.

We finally made it to my car, but not without Crackedskulls hard on our heels with Karo in the lead. There were some waiting for us in the parking lot, so they were using some sort of communication to coordinate attacks—I saw Karo talking to his wrist on several occasions during our spelunk through the woods. I used the keypad to unlock the doors, and we got inside the car before they got to us. We locked the doors after we piled inside, so they couldn’t open the doors and pull us out.

“Are you sure you want to drive?” Neiko asked and resumed panting.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yeah—I live here.”

I cranked the car up and floored it in reverse to scatter our attackers, but I backed into a Mercedes Benz and put a big dent the bumper–probably owned by one of the rich, out-of town people who had a summer house on the lake who wanted to have some quality R-and-R and a day at the park. I cringed. Somebody was going to be ticked.

“I need to leave a note.” I said, thinking about the long “some jacklegs who backed into their car and left without leaving a note” rant generously peppered with expletives in between.

“No time for that! Punch it!” Neiko said as she beat her thighs anxiously with her hands.

I jerked the wheel to make a hard left and put the pedal to the metal. With Crackedskulls jumping out of the way, tires screaming, and the car fish-tailing, we were home free. I even frightened a couple other pedestrians on my way out.

During the ride to my house we had an interesting conversation about the day’s events. I sort of explained to her that I knew about her and her hidden land, and I also added that I knew about the FiveLands and the other universe. Neiko warned me about talking too much about Ramses the Dark Pharaoh; it was dangerous I even knew, and my death would be a whole lot worse than what the Crackedskulls could think up. Great. There was another tender subject that I knew about that I knew was “No Man’s Land”: Neiko’s royal husband that she jilted and left in the past—literally. She would see a different shade of red and would vehemently not appreciate me bringing it up. That might be pushing it too far since what I was telling her now was a bit much, and she was already calling me “shaman, soothsayer, and psychic”. There was no way to explain how I knew the knowledge of everything, and she understand it or believe me.

We kept a look in the mirrors to make sure no one was following us. Neiko would look up at the sky, and even roll down the windows, stick her head out the window, and look at the sky more intently.

“Looking for winged warriors?” I asked.

“Yeah. You have to look close since they can fly at the right altitude and look like buzzards—visual trick to the untrained eye,” she said with her head out the window looking up at a group of buzzards circling overhead. “Just buzzards. Probably circling that dead deer back there in the ditch.”

“Probably. I am going to have one heck of a story to tell my husband when he gets home about how I got that big ding on the bumper.”

Neiko pulled her head in, rolled up the window, and looked at me. Her face asked “are you serious?”. “You can’t tell nobody about this. Just say you backed into one of those concrete posts at the gas station or a pole. Nice and clean.”

“That’ll make me look like a careless driver, and my husband will never let me let me take the car out again!” I said.

Neiko cocked her eyebrow. “You got a better idea, Mrs. Smartypants?”

I chuckled at her quick wit and was completely disarmed of possible retorts. “No.”

“Thought so,” she retorted. “I have a whole lot more experience keeping a lid on what really happened and hiding the truth from Outsiders—including my parents. I had to make up some pretty zany stories about what happened to my car with the insurance companies after some of the things Crackedskulls did to my car to dismantle it in an ambush—try explaining deep clawmarks all over the car—bears can’t even do that. They can scratch the paint, but not steel. Welcome to my life.”

I laughed. “Never a dull moment, huh?”

Neiko nodded. “Nope, but sometimes I feel like I can’t get a break.”

We finally pull into my long driveway that led to my secluded two-story log cabin house. Once we arrive, I kill the car and sigh with relief. Home sweet home.

“Nice house. Reminds me of my house,” Neiko said with a grin.

“Thanks.”

I unload the car, and we go inside.

“You have anything to eat around here?” she asked. “I’m starving!” Her stomach growled like she had a cougar in her belly.

“Help yourself! But that last brownie is off limits!” I called after her because she beat me into the kitchen.

“You have brownies? Why is it off limits?” she asked taking the lid off the dish.

“My husband made a claim on it.”

Neiko wrinkled her nose in protest and frowned. “Double chocolate with chocolate chunks? My favorite! Aaah—just say you did it. He can get over it,” she said waving her hand and prying to brownie out of the dish with her fingers and taking a huge bite. “What else you got?” she asked with her mouth full of brownie and the evidence of it all over her mouth.

I rubbed my forehead and couldn’t help but laugh at her. Her chocolate addiction was just as bad as mine. We were like two peas in a pod—almost twins. It was scary, and it was now obvious why I was mistaken for her.

“I loved that wisecrack about Karo being Kratos. That was pretty funny—like something I would’ve come up with.” She shoved the remainder of the brownie in her mouth. “You a game player?”

“Been accused of it a time or two. I don’t play as much as I used to because of my day job.”

“God of War is one of my favorite games. What do you do?”

“I write.”

Neiko’s right eyebrow raised. “Write? Sounds boring. You mean you write book reports and essays all day? Or even those literary analysis doohickeys?”

“It’s not boring—well…maybe it is compared to your life. I don’t write academic stuff all day. I write books for kids,” I said putting my hands on my hips. “And I blog.”

“Books? About what? Are they interesting? What in Great Spirit’s name is a blog? Sounds like something out of a Dr. Seuss book. Or you said you ‘blog’—is that like some sort of a weird sound, game, act or something? A creature?”

“Something. You write on a blog.”

“It doesn’t get mad at your or get up and leave?” she asked, completely perplexed.

“No. It not something that’s alive. It’s a special kind of website.”

“Oh. I know a little about the Internet. Mostly used it for school and stuff. I don’t surf the net unless I have to look up something on Google.”

I smiled. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” I said leaving the room to avoid the other question and allow her to raid my pantry and the fridge. Hopefully she would forget about that question about what my books were about. The blog distracted her at least and gave her some food for thought as she pillaged my stores.

The kitchen wasn’t far from the living room, and I would sneak a peek at Neiko once in the passing. I paced the floors in trying to get a grip on what was happening. This was going to make one humdinger of a story.

Just when things could get any more interesting, a pungent smell permeated the room. It wasn’t a bad smell. I had to get a couple whiffs to figure out what it was. It was incense and perfume, but unlike anything from JC Penny or Macy’s. The scent was strong enough to tickle my sinuses. I sneezed.

The temperature seemed to plummet in the room. My breath came out like smoke. Odd, it was a warm spring day. I had been watching too many paranormal and horror shows and flicks. But since when did ghosts start wearing perfume? My house wasn’t haunted since my husband and I built it about a year ago, and as far as I knew it wasn’t an Indian burial ground, and this wasn’t any Native American aftershave I was familiar with. The hair on my neck stood up and goosebumps popped out on my body.

Incense smoke seemed to appear. I could see an invisible “form” in the sunlight and the mist went toward the “body”.

Freaking out, I backed away. My eyes were going to pop out of their sockets and my throat closed up, blocking any air or sound that may try to come out.

In a flash of golden light an Egyptian pharaoh in full regalia appeared in my living room. What were the odds? What was going on?

Speaking the first name that came to mind I yelled, “Ghost—King Tut–” That was all that would come out before my throat closed back up.

The pharaoh gave me the evil eye. “Guess again. For one who claims to know so much about Neiko’s life you are gravely mistaken. Do I really look like a boy to you?” he asked as he crossed his arms, frowning at me. “Why does everyone always think of him first and not me? The nerve of you living!”

I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Er, I’ve read about several kings of Egypt. You all look the same to me. He’s just so well known and popular…”

The pharaoh snorted, interrupting me. “Popular and well known much to my distaste and chagrin when he did nothing of any real import while I built cities, temples, and monuments aplenty across the kingdom! I fought and won many wars! I might add how insulting it was that you put me in the same basket as ‘He Who Will Not Named’.”

“You mean Akhenaten,” I said, knowing who was to remain forgotten. “Or are you referring to Voldemort?” It was funny how an Egyptian pharaoh who lived 3,000 years before Harry Potter was written had the same don’t-say-his-name thing and let’s forget just like Voldemort. Were the similarities planned or unplanned?

The glare the pharaoh gave me would have made the words that came from my mouth freeze and fall to the floor in between us. He pointed at me menacingly. “Never—ever—speak that name again, scribe, or else. I went out of my way to destroy his memory and monuments and build my own atop them. I do not speak of wizards from your silly little fables.”

Ouch! I’m sure that went over real well with Akhenaten. He’s not gone, and you’re going to regret it, and Neiko’s gonna get pulled into this. I wasn’t saying that out loud. This guy was tough and just one mention of the guy’s name made Ramesses’ mood from below freezing to absolute zero—the next time it could be atomic heat complete with a mushroom cloud and nuclear holocaust, definitely if I put Akhenaten and Neiko’s name in the same sentence. “Scribe? That’s a new one—I haven’t been called a scribe before. Well, that’s two possible names scratched from my list and I could do this all day.”

“What makes you any different than any other pharaoh? All of you built stuff and fought in battles. Big deal,” I shrugged. What got his panties in a wad?

He put his ands on his hips and stood in a domineering stance. “You do not know whom you are insulting. I suggest you shut your mouth before you say something else you’ll regret or incense me further, commoner,” he said, pointing and shaking his finger at me.

“Commoner? What the heck…”

Neiko bounded into the room with a turkey sandwich in one hand and a soda and a bag of Fritos in the other, interrupting the stand off. “What’s this I hear about King Tut’s ghost and what’s all the commotion in here?” She noticed the pharaoh standing there and stopped short and stared. She dropped the bag of chips from her shock. “That’s not King Tut. It’s worse. It’s Ramesses.”

“That was my next guess,” I said. “That explains the big ego and the narcissistic display.”

Upon her arrival the frost seemed to melt from his stare, and he seemed to ignore my comment since his focus was off of himself or me and completely on her. “I am not an ‘it’. I am delighted to be here with you and your scribe—despite that I find her insulting, but I would rather it be just you and me. Alone.” He put stress on the word alone and smiled when he said it.

I looked at the king again for another take. It was clear. The stone likenesses sans their colored paint and wall paintings of him I had seen in books didn’t seem to do him any justice like the real thing—appearance wise. He appeared to be in his young twenties as well even though he lived to be ninety-plus; I guess he didn’t like being old or looking it either.

Neiko took a bite of her sandwich and chewed it slowly with an eat-crap-and-die look aimed directly at Ramesses. After she swallowed her food, she asked, “What do you want here? It’s over. There will be no alone, just you and me, or picking up where we left off. I left you to bake 3,000 years ago—3,000 miles away. Leave the writer out of it—I saved her life today, because Karo thought she was me. After I left, I haven’t given you a second thought. I’ve moved on.”

I knew that wasn’t true, but I best not enter this discussion on that note. Neiko still didn’t know my name at this point. It was obvious Ramesses didn’t like me very much.

Ramesses looked at her with a cocky grin. “I know that isn’t true. Why don’t you confess that you love me and you think about me daily? You can’t bury me or your feelings for me, so give in. I also should add that there is no over and there is no divorce or annulment. You won’t be rid of me. Ever. What have you to say to that? I also know about you rushing in to save the day.” He paused and slowly raised a dominating pointy finger at her. “Furthermore, you deliberately disobeyed me when I specifically told you to stay away from Monchiska if you ever made back to this place. I order you to end it—now!”

Neiko curled her top lip and rolled her eyes. “You are so full of yourself! You mean to tell me you’ve been watching me? Following me? Trespassing in my dreams?” Neiko shook her fists. “Argh! You don’t order me around! I’m not under your authority any more. I hate it when you tell me what to do, bossy bug.”

“I am always watching, and I listen to every word you speak,” he said. “I’ve been watching a long time. I know your dreams well, and I have been there even before you came to my homeland. There is no escape or nulling of my authority no matter where you are—how many times must I remind you of that?”

“That’s so not fair! I know you weren’t watching when I took a bath or got dressed, right?” She said that with bitter sarcasm even though she probably knew the answer. Yep. I knew it when she covered her eyes like the See No Evil monkey. “I want you out of my life right now! You were a mistake! It should have never happened. There never was supposed to be an ‘us’. Your laws don’t apply here and neither does the curse. We’re in my domain now, and that’s what you said to me and my friends in Egypt about this whole deal, so now the shoe is on the other foot. Go back to where you came from and leave me alone. I’m not coming back to you. Go to Hollywood and find you an actress to haunt,” she snapped. “Or better yet go to Las Vegas and find you a hooker.”

Ramesses chortled. “Still playing hard to get? That excites me.” The passion flame had been lit and it showed in his dark, kohl-accented eyes. “It happened, and anyone’s mistake is my blessing. I would have been a fool to let it go and would be if I ever gave up. The curse stands in which case I will follow your footsteps like it has been stated, and I will not rest until your body and soul are at my side both here and in my abode in the afterlife. My decision is final. If you won’t come back to me, then I will come for you. And, there is a slight problem with actresses and others you speak of.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” she asked crossing her arm and stamping her foot.

“They’re not you, and I had a stomach full of their kind trying to fill the void you left behind during my earthly life. I cried your name during my dying moments and my last thoughts were of you.”

Neiko jumped up and down and screamed since this argument was getting nowhere on her side. He could really push her buttons, and this romantic hodgepodge wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Argh! When will you get that I am not playing with you? You may look young, but your level of hearing is at your ninety-year-old level! Too bad they didn’t have hearing aids during your day and age. You are as stubborn as a mule! There’s no way on this or any other planet that I’m going to be on display in the Cairo museum beside your ugly, disgusting mummy—curse or no curse! I’m not going to find out what I look like as a mummy now or ever.”

I agreed with her there. His mummy was pretty gross-looking. What do you expect from a mummy made from a ninety-something-year-old man?

I came in and signaled time out before this became a full-fledged, live flame war. “Neiko, save your breath. You will have an easier time trying to push Mount Everest with a bulldozer than you will trying to change his mind about this. I know all about this too, but I just didn’t bring it up, because I know how much of a touchy subject this is for you. He’s not gonna let it or you go. This is nothing compared to what will happen.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot. I thought you were on my side,” she said with her green eyes narrowed, shifting between me and Ramesses.

“There are no sides in this discussion. I’m just stating the facts,” I said pointing in Ramesses’ direction with my head. “Besides, he already knows that I know. Nobody can do anything about it either.”

Neiko pressed her lips into a line. “Great,” she said, deflated and slapping the sides of her thighs. “I’ll just hire an exorcist and be done with it. Let that be step one in the divorce proceedings.”

Ramesses shook his head and snorted. “Child’s play. It won’t do you any good, and it’s a fine way to get someone killed or infuriate me further. I would hate for you to have to contact their family and deliver the news about how they died by my blade because of your insolence. For that act of disobedience I would repay you by taking you with me by force—my being nice about this would end there. I have already told you there will be no divorce. I have spoken!”

Neiko shot him a nasty glare. “I should have run you over with your own chariot when I had the chance before you put that stupid curse on me.”

Ramesses craned his head and looked at the ceiling in boredom. “Amusing. I still would have won, and we would be together in the afterlife right now. I have the upper hand here.”

“There you go with the winners, losers, and the I’m-the-big-bad-ruler-and-you-have-to-do-what-I-say-regardless-if-I-like-it-or-not spill. Gimme a break,” Neiko said sullenly. “Spare me the lecture, okay?”

“I’ll leave for now. I will be back when we can be alone,” he said pointing at Neiko. He vanished in a swirl of smoke and a flash.

“He’s like the terminator—he’ll be back, and he won’t go away or really die. He’s got a grip on me like a bear trap,” Neiko said.

“Come on. Let me take you somewhere safe since your home is too far away for me to make a clean drop-off,” I said,

“We’re on Scraah Viking land right now and Chief Sitting Owl is not on duty at the Peach Fuzz, so I should give him a call. His house ain’t too far from here. Let me do the talking,” Neiko said with both thumbs up.

“You mean the State Patrol?” I asked.

Neiko waved her hand, carefree. “We tease him about it all the time. Always gets a laugh from the tough ol’ bird.”

“No pun intended?” I asked with a sideways grin.

Neiko shifted her eyes like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar as she connected the dots about what I was insinuating. “Nope. Nice one!”

On the way out to the car I said, “This was fun; we should do this again sometime. I would just like to see what kind of trouble we could get into next.”

Neiko smiled. “Can you keep up? Trouble always finds me—I don’t have to look for it. If you’re up to it, it’s a date.”

“Sure. When do we go to the Five Lands next?”

“You’re sure? It’s actually pretty dangerous there. It’s not all pretty scenery and not everyone is friendly, warm, and cuddly.”

“Yeah.”

Neiko winked at me. “Okay. So what’s you’re name?

I giggled. “Now you want to know my name? It’s Amanda Taylor.”

“Easy enough. I didn’t bother asking because I didn’t think I would see you again after today. My fake name is Amanda. Funny,” she said, opening the passenger door.

I slipped into the car, and we left for the rendezvous point.

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Neiko’s Five Land Adventure

Genre: MG/YA Fantasy Action Adventure (ages 7-16)
Autographed Kindle and Paperback
Amazon | Nook

The Indians and the Crackedskulls are locked in the turmoil of war and presently in a stalemate. Her enemies, Raven and Bloodhawk, have come up with a scheme to up the ante and break the stalemate into their favor. Neiko later finds out that a land she thought she had only imagined is actually real and contains a legendary and otherworldly evil within it. Not only that, she becomes trapped there and must escape the world, the people within it, and the sinister evil within. 

Neiko must find her way back home and turn the tables on her enemies. Can she come back home and escape the evil that seeks to claim her?

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 Escape From Ancient Egypt (The Neiko Adventure Series)

EFAE-001

Genre: MG/YA Fantasy Action Adventure (ages 7-16)
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Seeking his revenge on Neiko for exposing him, Francesco banishes Neiko into ancient Egypt just like he did her friends eleven years ago. During her stay there, she unravels the mystery of what happened to her four friends. Now she’s faced with a bigger problem—how to get home. After a series of unfortunate events, Neiko is now entangled with Pharaoh Ramesses II. Francesco also comes to make sure their fates are sealed. Can Neiko and her friends beat impossible odds and return to Hawote and back to the present?

 

About the Author

Amanda Taylor author of  Neiko's Five Land Adventure

A.K. Taylor grew up in the backwoods of Georgia where she learned about nature. She enjoys hunting and fishing, beekeeping, gardening, archery, shooting, hiking, and has various collections. She also has interest in music, Native American history and heritage, Egyptian history, and the natural sciences. A.K. Taylor has been writing and drawing since the age of 16. A.K. Taylor has graduated from the University of Georgia with a biology degree, and she shares an interest in herpetology with her husband.

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Fourth-Wall Friday 
Fourth-Wall Friday

Ever wonder what happens if you were to break into your world build and sit down and have a beer with? I think I would love to have tea with Jane Eyre, or discuss the best way to take care of vampires with Jane Yellowstone…maybe having Susie Shotgun take me out for some Angels Tears.

Interested in being part of Cabin Goddess’ Fourth-Wall Friday? I will soon be opening up my schedule from July through Christmas and have a few limited reserved Friday’s for special Fourth-Wall Friday spots (Sign ups for July – December 2013), such as book releases and tours. Contact me at kriss@cabingoddess.com for more info. I hope everyone (authors and readers alike) takes time peruse the archives and find out just what other authors have done and enjoy a lot of amazing world builds!

Fourth-Wall FridayAllow yourself as an author to open up a new avenue of sharing your AUTHOR PERSONA & WORLD BUILD in a unique and creative fashion.. Just take a chance, write fluidly and from within that “place” you hangout at with your muse. Or perhaps walk in the door, tuck into a corner & watch your characters, or talk with them…

One Comment

  1. Squeeee! Fourth Wall Friday rocks it again!! I am glad to know about these books. They look really good.

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