Cover art by Fiona Jayde

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Half witch and half wolf, Ganda is like no other being on earth, but nearly 2,000 years ago the love of her life, Colin, was killed and since then she’s remained in her human form as an old black woman in the swamps of Louisiana. That was until Joshua and Jessie Kaine showed up and brought her back to life. Now on a mission to put her past to rest, Ganda visits the land of her birth, followed by the land of Colin’s death–Egypt. What she finds there isn’t the answer she’s looking for, but a mystery that will change her entire future.


Ancient Egypt 1997 BC

The entire country had been decimated by a civil war that had raged for the past hundred years. The land had once been green with fertile valleys watered by the great river. Crops had grown and the people had been happy. Once filled with gold, silver, and jewels, the king’s treasury now lay nearly empty. The fertile valleys lay barren and the great river choked with debris, and there seemed to be no way to win a war that continued day after endless day, the people screamed for peace, for relief, and for rescue, but were met by silence.

King Mentuhotep IV inherited the debacle from his predecessor and had been largely unsuccessful in his attempts to quell the rampage. His friend and advisor, Amenemhat I, had stood by his side for the past twenty years, helped him, and prayed to the god, Amun, for intervention on Mentuhotep’s behalf. The King valued Amenemhat’s opinions and was thankful to his friend for all his help. Mentuhotep hadn’t the slightest idea that Amenemhat also prayed Amun would make him successor to the king. Amenemhat was not of royal blood, would normally never be able to succeed the throne, a position reserved for an eldest son, but he would never let a little thing like rank and order stand in the way of becoming the next ruler of Egypt.

The dais resided in Memphis, the last stronghold of the war that raged throughout the country. Little was left, the gods knew. Nearly everything that could be used to fund the king’s campaign had been sold or melted down as weapons. Egypt had little left worth fighting for and Mentuhotep knew it wouldn’t be much longer before the factions were fighting at his gate. He also knew he had precious little left to fight with, little ability to keep the gates from being destroyed and with them, the last shreds of his dynasty, his kingdom, and his life. A desperate man in the middle of desperate times, he would turn away no idea, no suggestion. If anyone presented an idea with the possibility of turning the tides of war, he would willingly accept them. So when Amenemhat excused himself to travel to Thebes to pray before his god, Amun, on behalf of Egypt, on behalf of its one true ruler, Mentuhotep wearily nodded his consent.

Amenemhat traveled under the cover of darkness, knowing the danger he would face if recognized, and knew it would surely end his life. The people would welcome no consort of the crown. They were hungry, their children were dying, and they had little will left to help themselves, but they would have no problem killing the right-hand man of the dynasty they blamed for their deplorable lives.

After traveling most of the night, he reached Thebes by early morning light. Exhausted as he entered the temple to pray and be fortified, he stood before the altar of Amun, and Amenemhat felt a shiver run over his flesh and knew he was not alone. Slipping the knife from his waistband, he held it hidden in the folds of his robes. He turned slowly, and then involuntarily sucked a breath into his lungs at the sight he beheld.

The woman was ethereal in her beauty. Dark, thick hair fell to her knees in glorious, shining waves. With eyes as black as night, she peered at him from beneath heavy lashes. The faintest blush against alabaster skin highlighted her cheeks. Red and full, her perfect mouth nearly curved into a smile, but not quite. Her gown appeared to shine like silver, held beneath her firm, full breasts with a girdle of braided gold. The long sleeves fell like bells past her wrists, covering her hands as they lay loosely at her sides. Standing with bare feet, she observed him as if he was the intruder. The knife in his hand clattered on the marble floor.

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