Excerpt From “Lady Grace: A Thrilling Adventure Wrapped in the Embrace of Epic Love” by Sandy Nathan

When the earth blows up at the end of The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy (Tales from Earth’s End 1) that was it, right? The characters go off in all directions, nevermore to be seen.

Not exactly. In Lady Grace, a few survivors of the nuclear holocaust make their way back to Piermont Manor, Jeremy Edgarton’s ancestral estate. The radiation is gone and it’s finally safe to go home.

What awaits them makes their worst dreams look like Bollywood frolics. Right away, they find out that evolution can work for evil as well as good. Going home requires a battle more deadly than any they’ve fought.

The returning characters appear from everywhere, in ways you’d never believe. Some of them you’ve met before; some are new to Tales from Earth’s End.

Bud Creeman and Wesley Silverhorse, characters from author Sandy Nathan’s novel, Numenon: A Tale of Mysticism & Money, drop in from the year 2015, thousands of years before the time of Lady Grace. Bud and Wes provide needed Native American skills and spiritual power.

Shining through it all is Lady Grace, a phoenix rising from the devastation of her civilization, unrecognizable as the person she once was.

It was a new world, but was it one that permitted love?


“Come on, Ellie! They’ll let us go this time.” Jeremy dashed out of the tiny place where he and Ellie lived. His waist-length dreadlocks flopped behind him and his bare feet slapped the smooth surface of the hallway.

The door’s membrane tried to catch Eliana, but she slipped through. His wife was as agile and beautiful as the day they’d met.

He carried two bags of survival gear that he’d created from intergalactic junk. The goldies had swept the heavens to get him raw materials for construction projects. Before they’d given him something to do, Jeremy’s boredom-induced screaming fits had traumatized the planet.

He and Ellie ran through a translucent passage in the planet’s depths, bells booming all around them. Chimes always sounded on the planet, carrying messages. These bells were alarms. Horrified faces wailed in the walls, pointing at them with luminous fingers. They were the souls of the departed elders and formed the elastic, semi-transparent substance of the golden planet. The whole world was some shade of amber—ranging from glowing yellow to almost black. Lights shone from the planet’s depths, raking arcs like searchlights and then fading.

Jeremy galloped past Belarian’s grand, bejeweled palace. “Bitch,” he shouted and kept running. Belarian, the “mother” Eliana had missed so much when she was on Earth, was really her owner. She had tormented Jeremy.

He made a quick turn, going up another corridor. Jeremy thought living in their adopted home was like being inside someone’s guts. Undulating, ribbed tubes ran everywhere. The tunnels moved and shifted. But Jeremy knew where he was. They were on a major thoroughfare that didn’t change.

“Come on, guys! It’s on!” Jeremy shouted as they ran past James and Mel’s “place.” That’s all they had: places. No street names, no addresses, nothing but places. The natives didn’t need anything more than knowledge of a place’s existence to find it, but finding anything
was hard for the humans.

“Come on, we’ve got to go!” Jeremy yelled to the guys.

A glass-like amber sheet locked Mel and James into their space. Mel kicked at it with the bottom of his foot. The wall retracted before he touched it. He and his partner, James, slipped through. They took off after Jeremy.

“Trouble?” Jeremy called.

“Nah. It’s chicken. They’re all chicken.”

They jogged up the corridor. No real need to hurry at this point; the bells had tipped the golden world to their escape attempt. They couldn’t get away anyway; they were on an unidentified planet without the technology to get off it. The goldies would capture them no matter what they did. Their objective was to get their message out.

“Henry! Lena! We’re on!” Jeremy slapped the door of their tiny nook. She and Henry emerged and joined the others.

The hallway emptied into a huge lobby, the antechamber to the hall of the elders. Ribbed and folded like living tissue, the foyer’s walls seemed permeable. They weren’t, unless they wanted to be.

“Let us in,” he shouted at the portal. “We have to talk to the elders.”

A face appeared in the wall. It scanned them carefully. The door did not open.

Jeremy didn’t have the right mumbo jumbo to make it work. He’d seen Ellie’s “mother,” Belarian, unlock it. She had stood where he was and intoned in the goldies’ wordless way, Open, portal, we are here at the will of the elders. She had held up her hand with authority and the barrier admitted them. Of course, Belarian was a big cheese in the
golden world.

He held his hand up to the door and made various gestures, ending by flipping it off. “We know you’re in there. What you’re doing is illegal. You brought us here under false pretenses.”

Jeremy had to leave, couldn’t stay a moment longer. The golden planet had been unbearable since he discovered the real reason the goldies had granted them sanctuary. Ellie’s first pregnancy had been long and hard. After a difficult delivery, the golden people took their baby without letting them so much as hold it. He and Ellie had never seen any of the thousands of children she had borne since. Ellie was a pet; he was her mate. They
had the same rights as dogs in a puppy mill. Once he realized that, every second on the planet was misery to him. Every instant.

He choked out his message to the elders. “We thought you had a free society. We thought we would be equal citizens. We didn’t know you brought us here to experiment on!

“Let us in! You know what I’m saying is true!” He didn’t feel afraid. The elders had confined or tranquilized him after his previous outbursts, but they’d never hurt him.
“We can’t stay here any more!” Jeremy slammed the door with the flats of both hands. “We’re United States citizens! This is unconstitutional!”

With that, he shot away from the portal, finding himself stuck to the wall on the far side of the foyer. The others were lined up next to him. They seemed unable to move.

The elders’ faces appeared in the doorway. Eight of them, all different heights and shades of gold. Tall and elegant, they moved like dancers. The tallest one, a doctor, spoke. He’d helped Ellie with her pregnancies and births.

What do you want? Jeremy heard the doctor’s silent message inside his head. The goldies didn’t talk. What they wanted to say just appeared in his mind, not even in words, either. It was all intuition. The humans had to put words to the aliens’ communications.

“We want to leave. We hate it here and you hate us. The experiment has failed. Let us go home. Earth must be free of radiation by now.”

Shimmering bells indicated the elders’ amusement. The experiment has failed? the doctor transmitted. You don’t know that. You don’t even know how long you’ve been our guests.

“Let us go back, please. We can’t live this way.”

The elders surveyed them, craning their necks, blinking with expressionless gold eyes.

Do you think you can live on Earth? The question came from all of them.

“Yes. With the survival packs I made. We’ll have the tools we need as long as the radiation is gone.”

The silent response: The packs will become very hot as you enter Earth’s atmosphere. They’ll kill you if they travel with you.

“You can put a protective coating on them . . . Or you can send them later.”

You can survive?

“With the packs, yes.”

We will send you now. We will send the others later, and your bags.

Jeremy found himself sitting in the middle of a wide grassy field. He looked around, amazed. Brilliant blue sky. Trees bordering a meadow. Something else: the crash of surf. He was on Earth! He took a deep breath. Good old air. The place looked gorgeous. The trees were huge. Obviously the danger from radiation had been over for hundreds of years.
He stood up and examined his surroundings. None of the buildings were left standing, but he was sure he was at the estate. His family had owned Piermont Manor for hundreds of years. His bones recognized the place; his blood felt at home. He had grown up here, as had his mom and countless ancestors.

The big house had stood in front of him. He could see it in his mind’s eye, lacy stonework and tall parapets. A fifty-thousand-square-foot confection built in the eighteenth century. His mother’s garden had sprawled on the mansion’s other side. The village, where the staff and workers had lived, had been behind the house and to the west. Everything was gone.
His eyes returned to the place where he thought the main house’s back door had been. He could almost see it. The door flying open and Ellie leaping out. Ellie and he had fallen in love on Earth’s last night. He had played his clarinet in the ballroom while she danced. They had spent their wedding night in his room, loving for the first time, both of them. The glow they had created seemed to illuminate the air. Jeremy shivered.

The next morning, they’d walked out the back door. Sam Baahuhd, the headman of the village, waited for them. They hugged him and said good-bye. Jeremy had felt warmer toward Sam that morning than he had felt his whole life. Then they ran across the meadow to the huge blob of light the goldies had sent to carry them away. It hovered by the cliff above the ocean. All of them ran, he and Ellie, Lena and Henry, and James and Mel. They ran away from nuclear Armageddon and toward a brilliant future in an alien world.

A cynical snort escaped him. How many years had passed since they made that run for freedom? How many years had they been prisoners?

Jeremy turned toward the sound of the surf. That was the Atlantic Ocean. He knew the sound of it and the smell of it. This was the estate. He was home. Jubilation grew inside of him. His chest swelled and a smile stretched across his face.
He’d been returned to Piermont Manor. He was Jeremy Bentham Piermont Edgarton, heir to all he saw. He was in the good ol’ USA, in the great state of Connecticut. They’d send the others and his stuff soon. Everything was A-OK.


Born in San Francisco, Sandy Nathan grew up in Silicon Valley’s competitive corporate culture. A full time writer since 1995, Sandy Nathan holds master’s degrees in economics and counseling. She has been an economist, negotiation coach, and businesswoman. The visionary part of her writing flows from her meditation practice and spiritual experience. A lifelong horsewoman, Sandy is a wife and mother of three grown children. She lives on their California horse ranch.

Lady Grace: A Thrilling Adventure Wrapped in the Embrace of Epic Love
It is Tales from Earth’s End, Book II
Available on Amazon in Print & eBook forms:
Print: http://www.amazon.com/Lady-Grace-Thrilling-Adventure-Wrapped/dp/1937927008/
eBook: http://www.amazon.com/Lady-Grace-Thrilling-Adventure-ebook/dp/B0084F4MOI


The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy by Sandy Nathan

The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy

Blurb: In the tradition of 1984 and A Brave New World, The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy presents a future world tottering on disaster. By the 22nd century, a totalitarian government controls all. People live in fear. War rages while the authorities proclaim the Great Peace.

In the midst of the chaos, the angelic extraterrestrial, Eliana, comes to Earth on a mission to save her people. She must find Jeremy Edgarton, computer genius, revolutionary and the FBI’s most wanted. When Jeremy decodes new transmissions and discovers that nuclear Armageddon will occur the next morning, Jeremy and Eliana begin a quest to save two doomed planets … and find each other.

Their love story brings hope and optimism for the future. Readers come away from reading Angel determined to fight for their individuality, creativity and goodness and to be watchful of authority.

Excerpt: The beginning of Chapter One

When the girl appeared on the sidewalk, the edges of her body and clothing were fuzzy, as though all of her hadn’t arrived. She looked up and down the street, the way a person would if she’d forgotten an address or lost her way.

Her hair was frizzed and matted, sticking out akimbo. She was thin, had a dirty face, and wore a scratchy coat that was far too big. Its sleeves were rounded little capes; her arms stuck out of them like chopsticks protruding from a napkin. The coat slipped off her shoulders, first to one side, then the other. She hitched it up and kept walking. When she walked, the coat opened to reveal her feet and lower legs.

Her thin socks, trimmed with grayed lace, were pulled up to make a ruffle below her knees. Pink satin laces held up the socks, their Xs snaking up her shins from her shoes. She looked pretty much like everyone she saw, except for her shoes. Long pink ballet slippers stuck out from beneath her coat, as improbable as roses sprouting from the cement.

Eliana made her way along the sidewalk, knowing that she was dirty, feeling the grit in her hair and on her skin. When she had reached the planet’s atmosphere, clothes and all sorts of things had rushed at her with great force, tossing her over and over. Dirt had come, too. She’d found the clothes she needed and put them on the way her teachers had shown her. Then her people had put her where she was.

Humans passed, but no one stopped or said anything to her. A paper blew against her leg. More dirty papers blew and piled up everywhere. Streaked and grimy buildings rose near her. Writing in different colors covered their walls. She looked carefully, but couldn’t make out the words. She’d learned to read and write English, but those words mystified her.

“Hey, you!” a person said loudly.

“Yes?” She spoke to a human for the first time, politely bowing. The human was dirty like Eliana, with torn clothes and matted hair. She couldn’t tell if it was a he or a she.
“Get out of here!” the ragged person shouted. “You don’t belong here.” Eliana cowered, but the stranger rushed past her, clawing at something Eliana couldn’t see. “Stay away,” the human said, and then stood with feet braced, shouting, “Get out of here, all of you. Stay away!” The creature hadn’t seen Eliana at all.

The girl realized that her people were right; they had put her where no one would notice her. Now she needed to tell them that she had arrived. She raised one foot, turning it gracefully and resting it easily on the other knee. She flicked the shoe with her finger, listening. A trill of clear notes deep within her brought the hint of a smile. She held the coat closed and stood still. She was where she was supposed to be. It had begun.

She fingered the piece of paper in her pocket. Her map. Beneath it, in the pocket’s depths, was the notebook. What was written on it would get her where she needed to go. She had all she needed.

She walked a long way along the hard path. More humans passed her. To her left, gray, inert structures rose high in the sky, blocking the sun. She touched the see-through parts of their lower levels, looking at the humans inside. They looked at each other with darting eyes, speaking rapidly. Everyone outside rushed frantically, noticing nothing. They didn’t see her, just as her people had said.

Eliana choked when a very large carrier passed, spewing a foul odor. The carrier floated above the hard surface where the vehicles moved. Her teachers had told her about the floating. Though she couldn’t see it, a force lived under the machines that made them go. It would kill her if it touched her. She didn’t know what kill meant; kill did not exist in her world. Her mother had explained that she would be like a dead pet. She had seen dead pets before they whisked them away. Motionless husks. She moved away quickly. Better get on with her purpose. She didn’t have much time.

A man with a round stomach and a gray hat walked out of an opening in the ground with many others. He walked like he had a mission. His coat was the same scratchy stuff as hers, but it was buttoned up and looked new. He looked new; his face was ruddy and clean. His shoes reflected the pale sunlight. The trill of notes resounded in her mind once again.

He was the one! She stood in front of him to make him stop. She hoped he could comprehend her speech.

“Will you help me?” she said, working to form the strange words.

Sandy Nathan’s writing incorporates all the aspects of her life. “The Angel came to me from a couple of places. Following my brother’s tragic death, I had a transcendent dream in which the angel appeared. After that, the book unfolded. The dark world of The Angel is my psyche’s reaction to our current desperate economic situation––that future world is only heartbeats from our own.” Sandy holds master’s degrees in economics and marriage, family and child counseling. “Both the economist and transpersonal psychologist in my soul wrote The Angel.” Former economic analyst of Santa Clara County (Silicon Valley) CA, Ms. Nathan has written full time for fifteen years. She has four published books and has won twelve national awards for her writing.

Buy from: Amazon

See also:
Excerpt from:
Tecolote: The Little Horse That Could by Sandy Nathan
Interview with: Sandy Nathan, Author of Tecolote: The Little Horse That Could and The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy

Tecolote: The Little Horse That Could by Sandy Nathan

Tecolote: The Little Horse That Could

Tecolote’s chances were not good. Born prematurely on a freezing night, the buckskin colt had to fight for his life. When he was still a baby, Tecolote lost his mother. Would he be able to find a horse to help him grow up and teach him the ways of the herd? Would he ever know a friend who would love and protect him?

Be with Tecolote as he masters the challenges that young horses–and young people–face as they grow up and become all they’re meant to be. Tecolote: The Little Horse That Could will inspire children and adults alike. The illustrations in this book are snapshots taken while Tecolote’s story was unfolding. In using snapshots, the author wanted to bring you as close to the action as possible and introduce you to the real Tecolote, Shambho, Rosie, and all the other horses of Rancho Vilasa. This truly is Tecolote’s scrapbook–welcome to his world.

Excerpt––The beginning of Chapter One

“We’d better call Dad,” Lily said, “just to make sure everything’s all right.” My daughter Lily and I were headed for a gospel concert. We were already in the spirit, clapping and laughing as we drove through the twilight in our lovely valley.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed home. Things weren’t all right–I could tell the instant I heard Barry’s voice.

“I need you,” he said. “Rosie had her baby. He’s early. He can’t stand up. I need help.”
“We’ll be right there.” We whipped the car around, all thoughts gospel and joy gone.

We had bred horses for almost twenty years. We knew that baby horses need all the time they can get inside their mothers. A baby horse that’s born just two weeks early probably won’t make it. His little lungs may not be able to give him the air that he needs. He’ll be too weak to stand or nurse.

Rosie’s baby was ten days early. He could die.

Sandy Nathan has been active riding, showing, breeding, and loving horses for most of her life. She and her family raised Peruvian Paso horses for more than twenty years. “Horses enabled me to be the person I am. As a child, I was so shy I seldom spoke. When I got my first horse at age thirteen, I learned to assert myself. Over my years with horses, I’ve learned competency and self confidence that transferred all over my life.”

Available from: Amazon

See also:
Excerpt from: The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy by Sandy Nathan
Interview with: Sandy Nathan, Author of Tecolote: The Little Horse That Could and The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy