Title: The Ivory Staff
Author: M. Lachi
Genre: New Adult Fantasy
How was young Samiyah to know that her simple grace, wit, and beauty—exceptional traits given her peasant class—would land her in the middle of a chessboard of high-level political turmoil or that the love that blinds politics, the hate that blinds brotherhood, and the lust that blinds love would flip that chessboard on its side? Rife with passionate dialog, edgy suspense, and epic conflict, this Dark Fairy Tale follows our heroine as she journeys to heal a nation broken by the internal prejudices of class warfare, armed with nothing but stark determination.
Author: M. Lachi
Genre: New Adult Fantasy
How was young Samiyah to know that her simple grace, wit, and beauty—exceptional traits given her peasant class—would land her in the middle of a chessboard of high-level political turmoil or that the love that blinds politics, the hate that blinds brotherhood, and the lust that blinds love would flip that chessboard on its side? Rife with passionate dialog, edgy suspense, and epic conflict, this Dark Fairy Tale follows our heroine as she journeys to heal a nation broken by the internal prejudices of class warfare, armed with nothing but stark determination.
Author Bio
M. Lachi is a published author and an award nominated songwriter and composer. Her resume includes features on Oprah Radio, CBS Radio, The CW, Oxygen, and the E! and Style Networks among others. M. Lachi lives in New York City and enjoys reading, composing and catching live performances.
Links
Amazon Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/na97ur7
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26311689-the-ivory-staff?from_search=true&search_version=service
Website: www.mlachi.com
Twitter: twitter.com/mlachiauthor
Facebook: facebook.com/mlachiauthor
M. Lachi is a published author and an award nominated songwriter and composer. Her resume includes features on Oprah Radio, CBS Radio, The CW, Oxygen, and the E! and Style Networks among others. M. Lachi lives in New York City and enjoys reading, composing and catching live performances.
Links
Amazon Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/na97ur7
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26311689-the-ivory-staff?from_search=true&search_version=service
Website: www.mlachi.com
Twitter: twitter.com/mlachiauthor
Facebook: facebook.com/mlachiauthor
Excerpt
We entered the big white–walled kitchen and sat at a table of pure silver. Three West African girls glared at us as they washed the dishes. I ordered one to fix something for me and Samiyah, who felt uncomfortable having some- one else serve her. She’d have to get used to it here. The girls gave us water and pounded yam with slimy okra soup and goat meat. They had acquired a good deal of fame for their cooking, and I sure was hungry. I didn’t like that they had a rude habit of staring.
After we prayed to our God to bless the food, I waited a moment to see if she’d begin eating be- fore me. The West African women gave a daunting look that made the girl shiver. I ordered them to go about their business, but they simply stepped back a few paces and continued watching. Samiyah attempted to touch her pounded yam with her hands, and before I could say anything, one of the West African girls stepped up and brutally slapped Samiyah’s hand away,spitting out harsh words in her foreign tongue. Samiyah winced with panic, looking to me.
“You must wait for me to begin before you can begin,” I informed her as she frightfully nodded her head. I slowly took my spoon, scooped up some yam, dipped it into the soup, and ate it. As expected, it was delectable. Samiyah raised her hand to the food and took a chunk of it in her fingers. The West African girl slapped her hand again, spitting more harsh foreign jargon at her. Samiyah jumped out of her chair.
“What did she say?” she shrieked, betraying a look of fear. The other two girls laughed hysteri- cally.
After we prayed to our God to bless the food, I waited a moment to see if she’d begin eating be- fore me. The West African women gave a daunting look that made the girl shiver. I ordered them to go about their business, but they simply stepped back a few paces and continued watching. Samiyah attempted to touch her pounded yam with her hands, and before I could say anything, one of the West African girls stepped up and brutally slapped Samiyah’s hand away,spitting out harsh words in her foreign tongue. Samiyah winced with panic, looking to me.
“You must wait for me to begin before you can begin,” I informed her as she frightfully nodded her head. I slowly took my spoon, scooped up some yam, dipped it into the soup, and ate it. As expected, it was delectable. Samiyah raised her hand to the food and took a chunk of it in her fingers. The West African girl slapped her hand again, spitting more harsh foreign jargon at her. Samiyah jumped out of her chair.
“What did she say?” she shrieked, betraying a look of fear. The other two girls laughed hysteri- cally.