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ABOUT THE ORACLE REBORN: THE ORACLE REBORN is a lightning-paced, one-of-a-kind suspense thriller about an ancient promise. Filled with riddles, captures, and escapes, this cinematic novel takes you on a heart-stopping journey. Sarah Rider, a San Francisco police officer with extraordinary gifts of prophecy, discovers she is a direct descendent of a powerful Delphic priestess, making her a prime target for those in search of an oracle. Eluding threats and danger, Sarah races towards love and her destiny, relying on her instincts and prophetic visions to survive a globetrotting adventure into the realms of hidden tablets and scrolls, forgotten mythologies, and Pythagorean wisdom. "A
breakneck ride from the first page. A Dan Brown type page-turner." "I loved
this
book! ...
kept my interest, trying to solve the mysteries." Jim Roderick, Professor of English |
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EXCERPT: PROLOGUE 540 BCE Delphi, Greece
Theoclea,
a high priestess, left
the temple sanctuary with an oracle, a secret promise. She told no one,
not
even the temple priests, but she wrote it down on a small scroll,
placing it in
the temple’s Hall of Futures, a
library of prophecies to come. Once
outside, this gentle soul with the green eyes breathed the pure air of
Delphi
and watched an eagle soar above the towering trees. She walked down the
temple
steps, pausing to gaze at the line of supplicants, each hoping for an
oracle,
each hoping to visit adyton, the
place of prophecy in the temple, where the sacred hearth burned and the
golden
eagles watched. Her
oracles respected the quality of human life. They urged freedom for the
slaves,
whose names were inscribed on the temple’s foundation. As the
voice of Apollo,
she pronounced that the middle path was the ideal. She spoke nine
months a
year, avoiding the cold and high winds of the winter. No action ever disappears, she mused. It
merely merges into a continuous future. She
knew this, and she also knew
in her heart that true mystery was revealed to those who loved. And
that all
wisdom came from inner knowing, gnosis. So
many oracles given, so few
understood, she
reflected. The
gentle winds of Delphi brushed her flowing hair. Her heart was
full…. CHAPTER 2 San
Francisco, California
“Thank
you so
much. My family will always remember
you. My child is safe, in my arms, safe,” Heather Ryan said, her
voice trailing
off, her cheeks flushed from crying, her tired eyes gazing out the
picture
window of her home at the distant Pacific surf.
Sarah Rider touched Heather’s
shoulder, firmly reassuring her that she and her child were now beyond
the
reach of the kidnapper. She promised that her friend, District Attorney
Cortez,
would slam the steel doors shut on this man’s future. With no
time off for good
behavior.
David, Heather’s husband, pulled
Sarah aside and shook her hand, then embraced her, his eyes swelling
with tears.
“Your gifts must give you great
consolation,” he said.
“Sometimes.”
Sarah’s cell phone rang. She
listened … felt herself losing focus.
“Okay, I’ll be
right
there. I’m sorry. I have
to leave. Something’s wrong. Good luck to both of you. If you
need anything
further, don’t hesitate to call the department. Ask for
Blythe.” Waving
goodbye,
she felt something grip her heart. For a
brief
moment, she was confused. Then her senses cleared, and she jammed her
car’s
stick shift into second gear, roaring toward the intersection of Van
Ness and
Lombard, sensing death.
Faraway, a single foghorn sounded, a
faint caution lost quickly in the San Francisco rush of early evening
traffic.
The drifting gray-white fog descended, vapor-like, into the city
streets, leaving
a wet chill in the Pacific air. ⎕ Thirty-five year old
Sarah Rider, a San Francisco
police officer, forensic psychologist and ancient history buff, looked
at her
dead partner. She leaned down and took Sutton’s hand for the last
time, holding
it, affectionately touching it with her other hand. Her eyes teared.
“A simple robbery for change turns
into a damn nightmare. I know how close the two of you were,”
Captain Jenks
said sadly.
“I had a feeling last—”
“What’s that in his hand?” Jenks
asked, pointing with his index finger.
Sarah bent over and slowly unfolded
each finger from a kind of death grip.
“It’s a phone number,” she
whispered, walking away from Jenks, thinking….
Sarah called the long distance
number on her cell phone. No one answered. She sensed that the number
was
important, but not right now.
She also sensed, again, as she had
for months, something threatening coming – from somewhere. She
then walked
slowly back to Captain Jenks, her five-foot seven-inch frame taut with
frustration. She looked at him with the intensity of a cat.
“We need to talk. Meet me at the
beach. You know where, by the Cliff House. Tonight. At seven.” The
Cliff House,
located where Geary merges with Point Lobos at 39th Avenue,
was Sarah’s
favorite place to decompress. She would sit for hours looking at the
ocean and
the Marin County headlands, walking, after a meal of fresh fish and
white wine,
on the beach where land, sky and sea meet. She was drawn to the water,
to its
sound, to its calming, life-sustaining gifts, to its magnificent and
subtle
blues. ⎕ Evening
was
rising. Seagulls walked the beach like soldiers. Hints of starlight
spread
across the darkening sky of scattered clouds. The cool salt air of San
Francisco was riding on a western wind, and rolling waves crashed
against a debris-strewn shore.
Walking on the beach, the wet sand
between Sarah’s toes calmed her. She waited for Jenks, waited for
a voice
within to say, “You’re fine,” but she started to cry,
feeling the deep pain of
her loss. A ten-year partner gone. A world of great memories fading....
Sarah dropped to her knees, then
fell on the sand with her face up to the dark, turbulent sky, letting
the cool
sea air sweep over her body.
Disturbing dreams. Vague, uncertain
feelings. Images of unknown places. They all had visited her over the
last
three months. In processing these images and feelings, Sarah noticed a
common
thread – a sense that she was about to start a journey, east,
toward ancient
beginnings and mysteries.
Her mother had told her, in her
final days, in a failing whisper, that Each
soul has a dangerous journey to take towards its ultimate purpose in a
lifetime.
Sarah relaxed on the beach and took
an inner journey: …Into
the green of the natural world where she could
smell the pines, plants and leaves. She could see shafts of golden
sunlight hit
the floor of the green and rocky earth. High up, she could see an eagle
tilting
and swooping down toward a distant river, then up toward a towering
mountain.
The magic sounds of nature engulfed her
like a symphony….
Her physical body relaxed. Her
breathing fell almost silent. She could feel inner balance returning.
She
lingered in a state of half consciousness. Then she turned over and
instinctively drew, using her index finger, a square maze of lines in
the sand,
reminding herself how she did this kind of activity with her mother
when they
visited the beach on afternoons filled with light and wind.
Her mother often said that life was like
lines
drawn in the sand –
Today’s
reality washed away with the tides of change.
“Are
you all
right?” Jenks asked, leaning down, gently touching her shoulder.
“I’m fine.” She looked up at Jenks,
refocusing her eyes. “Listen, I need a strong partner, someone I
can trust,”
she said, standing up.
“No one wants to work with you. You
know. You’re unnerving.”
“I understand. Then I want a Wild
Card. You have the connections.”
“A Wild Card? No way. They’re mainly
international. Agency stuff, but off the radar screen. They don’t
usually work
domestic. Can’t be done. Forget it!”
Sarah brushed her shoulder-length,
auburn-colored hair away from her penetrating green eyes and took a
quick look
at the dark night-clouds storming toward the beach, moving thunderheads
threatening the land.
The air turned cold. In her ear, she
heard a far sound….
As she walked away from Jenks, she
looked back and yelled, “Then forget the Wild Card and assign me
Cutter. You
can spare him. He’s between assignments.”
“Maybe,” Jenks yelled back.
“He owes you! Get him!”
“Sarah—”
“Tonight! At my place!” ⎕ Entering
her
two-story Victorian-style home close to the beach, Sarah sensed someone
had
been there, exploring. Things
were moved, pushed around and scattered. Rapidly, her life was
changing.
She felt vulnerable, violated. She scolded herself for not seeing this
coming.
With so much time devoted to her cases, desperate cases that drained
her
energy, she overlooked monitoring her own situation.
She sat down to gather
her thoughts.
Sarah, her mother
would say, someday, many will come
for you. Don’t forget this! Your
survival will depend on your abilities to remain calm and to anticipate
danger. |