Book reviews Poetry and prose from the heart. Self-help life truths. Stories to ponder. The free mind of a human god!

New book…

Top 10 in U.S. in ‘Children’s Scary Stories’, and in ‘Children’s Coming of Age Fantasy Books’, and in ‘Children’s Paranormal, Occult and Supernatural Books’, “The Call of The Shaman”, #1 in the epic Dark Fantasy series, is the story of a 12-year-old orphan boy who is trying to discover himself.

His father was a great shaman. His mother a great healer. Great ancestral indigenous roots. And after the visit from his ‘believed’ dead father, he must go on a journey to discover who he really is, the magic he has inside him, and the connection to the ancient Sumerian gods. All this while managing the great curse, the ghouls, and the wicked necromancer on his path…

If you haven’t read #1 yet, right now and for a limited time it is free to download on Amazon, Kobo, and Barnes and Noble. Please browse through my website and learn more, or find it here: “The Call of The Shaman.”

And to celebrate the new book in the Dark Fantasy series that I have soon coming out, #4, “Shadow Ghouls of Nergus”, I want to share an exerpt from Chapter 48 – Titled: ‘Everything you Believe.’

His  eyes  were  wide  open  in  astonishment.  “You  can  talk??”

“Hmm,  can  I  talk…??  Let’s  see,”  he  said  in  deep  thought.  “Hmm.  Yes,  apparently  I  can.  And  so  can  you.”

“I  mean,  how  can  you  talk??”  Ben  insisted  putting  the  feather  back  in  his  pocket. 

“Hmm,  what  a  fascinating  question,”  the  dragon-wolf  continued.  “I  dunno.  Never  really  thought  about  it.  And  how  can  you  talk??”

“Well,  I  am  human.  We  have  vo—”

WAIT—!”  he  interrupted.  “I  really  don’t  care.”

Ben  saw  him  in  a  very  serious  pose,  as  if  some  kind  of  Greek  philosopher.  This  hybrid  creature  looked  very  funny.  He  seemed  to  be  very  conscious  of  himself,  but  his  fairly  generous  size  and  his  long  tail  swaying  side  to  side  as  he  remained  in  thought  made  Ben  chuckle.

“Oh,  yes!  You  were  going  somewhere.  Where??”

“I  think  I’m  being  punished  for  what  I  did,”  Ben  explained.  “I’m  dying  of  thirst.”

“Oh,  yes,  look  at  that.  You  don’t  look  so  good,”  he  said  while  noticing  his  pale  complexion.  “You  might  be  right.  I  might  be  talking  to  a  dead  boy  after  all.  Or  soon  to  be.”

“Gee,  I’m  so  glad  you  came.  Thanks.”

“Oh  cheer  up,  you!  It’s  not  that  bad!”  the  hybrid  creature  said  while  moving  one  of  his  wings  and  exposing  the  rich  sand  for  him.  “Take  some  water  now.”

“Umm.  What  water…??”  Ben  asked  suspiciously.

“What  is  it  that  you  mean??  The  delicious  spring  water  in  this  crystal  glass,”  he  said  while  motioning  with  his  wing.

Ben  looked  closer.  Maybe  he  was  having  problems  with  his  vision  too.  He  moved  the  giant  wing  out  of  the  way  just  to  make  a  point.  “There’s  no  water  there.”

Of  course  there  is.  You’re  thinking  too  much.  Now  stop  seeking  excuses,  reach  the  glass,  and  drink  the  water.”

Ben  smiled  and  looked  awkwardly  at  the  talking  dragon-wolf.  “You’re  an  illusion,  just  like  this  whole  place,  aren’t  you??  Just  like  I  can  talk  clearly  now.”

“But  do  you  still  feel  thirsty,  about  to  die??”

Ben  took  his  time.  He  felt  different  now,  but  the  lingering  exhaustion  as  other  side  effects  from  dehydration  were  there. 

Then,  gathering  himself,  he  said,  “Weirdly,  yes.”

“Then  drink,  and  live.  Or  don’t  drink,  and  die.  But  do  not  waver  anymore,”  the  hybrid  said,  then  turned  around  and  away  from  him.

Ben  felt  silly,  and  he  still  thought  this  was  an  illusion.  He  probably  was  dead  already,  or  maybe  unconscious  somewhere.  He  didn’t  really  care.  He  carried  his  big  burden.  And  he  knew  the  gods  weren’t  happy  with  him.  He  then  went  ahead,  took  the  make-believe  glass  and  drank.

“How  do  you  feel??”  asked  the  dragon-wolf.

Ben  left  the  now-visible  glass  on  the  strange  sandy  surface.  “Hey,  it  was  real!”

“Of  course  it  was!  Everything  is  real  if  you  believe  in  it.”

HHFFMMTT!  Suddenly,  the  glass  was  swallowed  by  the  hungry  mound.  Ben  saw  this  and  rubbed  his  eyes,  then  looked  yonder  and  saw  his  friends  down  at  the  foot  of  a  cave.  They  were  waiting  for  him,  just  like  he’d  told  them. 

Then  the  hybrid  came  to  him  and  said,  “You  have  good  friends,  Ben.

“I  know  they’re  angry  with  me.  But  my  friends  shouldn’t  be  punished  for…”

I hope you enjoyed this section of the story.

“Shadow Ghouls of Nergus”, #4 in the epic series BENJAMIN JONES, is coming soon…

And, as mentioned above, if you haven’t read #1 yet and started the adventure with Ben, right now and for a limited time it is free to download on Amazon, Kobo, and Barnes and Noble. Please browse through my website and learn more, or find it here: “The Call of The Shaman”


Anatomy and physiology of life Book reviews Business mind. Poetry and prose from the heart. Self-help life truths. Stories to ponder. The free mind of a human god!

Occult & Paranormal

So, for the ones who haven’t seen my website yet. And for the ones interested in Children’s/Young adult’s Dark Fantasy, in Coming of Age stories, and in Occult and Paranormal book series.

This is the half-cover reveal for my next book.


(#4 in the epic series BENJAMIN JONES)

It  was  dry,  bone  dry.  It  was  a  desert,  wretched  and  deprived  of  any  life.  It  looked  as  if  this  world  had  poisoned  himself,  as  the  earth  was  cracked  and  pale,  as  the  skies  were  grieved  and  colorless.  There  was  light  from  the  moons  and  the  suns,  weak  and  omnipresent;  but  there  was  no  warmth,  and  there  was  no  cold  either.  But  they  found  a  few  remains,  skulls,  scattered  frames  of,  perhaps,  creatures  who  had  lived  long  ago.”…

And if you’re new to my site and you havent’t read the #1 in the series. Please feel free to browse through my website. Right now “The Call of The Shaman”, #1 in the epic Dark Fantasy series is free to download for all countries…


Book reviews Poetry and prose from the heart. Stories to ponder.

Chat with a Necromancer.

Titled: “BENJAMIN JONES. The Call of The Shaman.” Here’s a sample of the story. I would really appreciate your opinions, thoughts, comments on it. As an artist, I learn much from this. For me, my craft is all about learning and becoming better and better, as in all other aspects in my life. Thanks!

So, Ben has begun his quest with two great friends. He has traveled much and discovered a world of magic and danger. He has discovered that he is a shaman and cursed. He is now for the first time meeting his greatest foe, Lord Furvusmortem.


The shape materialized out of the darkness, and it seemed like it had been part of such death of light all along. Soon, Ben became aware of the man who was walking towards him. Yes, there was no doubt. The man carried dark magic. He was himself powerful dark magic.

And he was the one Benjamin Jones had sensed so clearly since the train. Maybe he was connected somehow to this man. Perhaps the curse had something to do with it. Nothing was fantasy here. The phenomena he felt in his bones was indescribable, and yet so precise and real.

Once the man stood a few feet in front of him, under the bright light, Ben saw the face of the man who had been in that bar, or vision, or whatever it had really been. He was holding his fedora in one hand and the cigar in another. The swirly clouds of toxic smoke stung Ben’s throat. He drew back and coughed heavily.

The man saw this and snickered, then muttered disdainfully, “You’re weak.” After he sat on a stool by the bar, he looked at Ben, who was still affected by the smoke and coughing heavily. He put away his cigar. “Alright! Jesus. You can stop now. What do you want, boy??”

When the man picked up the mystical object from the counter, he seemed confused about it. He was attracted by its energy, like two opposite polarities. Suddenly, the man groaned and dropped the hare on the ground. It had burned him. But, even though the hare had been dropped, it did not break.

Ben stopped coughing. He was now glaring at the mysterious man. He was really feeling his rage. His hands were shaking. The man gave out some kind of ill scent and repulsive force. It rattled something inside Ben, and being a few feet away from this man was provoking him.

He was suddenly taken by his rage, and he couldn’t help but draw out his emotions in waves. There was a glint of furious light. And then his body was covered by pulses of magic which followed his rage. But, before Ben did anything, the man saw the tremendous energy about to burst off him.

Ben clearly had lost control, because the burst of energy would grow in a circle and destroy the place. The man quickly stepped aside and mumbled something only the spirits from the other side heard. Then there was a powerful swirl of winds around Ben.

This held the burst of energy in order to stop its growth. The man finally gave a hand clap and Ben was thrown backwards against a couple of chairs.

Then, unconcerned, the man went around the bar counter and served himself some Whiskey. “Take your time to calm down, boy,” he said with a warning in his voice.

As Ben got up, his hands started shaking again, his eyes consumed by fury, and he was preparing for a new attack. At this, the man rolled his eyes, placed his drink on the counter and said, “Oh, the stupidity of youth! I don’t wanna have to kill you, or your friends.”

Ben saw that he was moving his hands and creating two circles of fire. Somehow he also witnessed him in his mind’s eye murdering his friends, so he calmed down in order to find out who he was and how he could be stopped. He had to be stopped.

The man had now spirits of the dead about him. The hollows of their eyes where white and dead. Their bodies just long and obscure clouds of smoke. Head horns appeared to be just more of the toxic gas making their bodies.

This wraith activity would’ve frightened anybody, but Ben himself had crossed the paranormal already. And he already knew that nothing was what it seemed.

Ben had seen a ghoul like one of these on the train just before the derailment had occurred. And he had definitely felt them stalking his dreams as well. Night after night. Day after day. He had been always stalked by these dark forces within himself, and he always had fought to balance them.

And ghouls, these dark forces live right next to light forces within ourselves, do they not…?? This is our own personal struggle. And just like Ben, we must balance these forces before the darkness overtake us. The darkness exists in the world as our own inner projections. We all have them. So perhaps Ben is not the only one cursed here.

In balancing himself, Ben stepped back and the mysterious man stopped himself. The damned vanished as soon as the man whispered his command in the old language. This man seemed possessed when he did so, and Ben was beginning to understand who he might be. But he needed to be sure.

Ben studied his features really closely. He was dressed like a gentleman of high class. He looked confident, powerful, and with a certain poise. But there was cruelty and arrogance on his face. And he appeared to lead the ghouls, just like Ben did with the wolves.

Then, without more hesitation, Ben quizzed, “Are you The Necromancer of The Four Winds…??”

The man stopped drinking suddenly, pondered the question as if remembering, then replied, “Well, yes. But that sounds too cruel, Ben. And long. And pretentious. So, just call me Lord Furvusmortem. A king gave me that honor.”

Ben thought of that name. Furvusmortem. Were did I hear that…??, he repeated in his mind. He didn’t remember. But that name sure brought chills to his marrow.

“Doesn’t Furvusmortem mean Obscure Death??” Ben asked him while recalling his Latin studies’ class. A class he hated, by the way.

He thought about this, then said, “Well, yes. But it only sounds cruel and dreadful when you translate it into English,” he added amusingly serious. “Don’t judge me, boy. Unless you wanna end up like one of my monstra parvum.”

“You mean the ghouls I just saw…??” Ben had asked a question without really needing an answer. He knew what they were. He felt the morbid connection to the dead creatures already. “Why were they on the train…?? And why did they cause the accident??”

Lord Furvusmortem suddenly sent a chair rushing at Ben with just a single swipe of his hand! Ben’s knees were bent and he plumped down without even knowing. This man was surely more than what he seemed.

Then the man continued, “They were following you. You stink, boy! You know, because of the curse and all. And they caused the train’s derailment because they are just terrible imps without a soul. What did you think?!”

Ben was now filled with questions. About the curse. About this Furvusmortem guy. About the ghouls. About everything! He rushed, “Who are you?? Why are you here?? What do you want with me??” As he said this, he tried to get up from the chair but couldn’t. It was as if he were glued to it. “What is this?! Why can’t I get up?!” he groaned angrily.

Lord Furvusmortem held his cigar and looked at Ben with sickening mockery. “Look at you, boy. Jeez. You don’t even know who you are. Less who I am.” He stood up, finished his drink, and walked to him. “You know what, I will tell you the story. So, pay attention, or you’ll never know why you are destined to die by my hands.”

Once he moved another chair with the swipe of his hand and sat next to Ben, he continued, “This story goes beyond the legend of the wolf boy, which you have undoubtedly heard I’m sure. This story begins with The Sitchin Gods. They who came down from the heavens. They who were the origin of light and dark, of good and evil.” He stopped and continued smoking his cigar.

Ben’s face had become stiff, emotionless, not because he was afraid but because he was shocked by what Furvusmortem had said. ‘You are destined to die by my hands.’

What did he mean…?? Why did he want to kill him?? But still, Ben remained put. Not that he could move or go anywhere. He just listened and held back his anger. He needed to know more.

And so, well behind clouds of black smoke, Lord Furvusmortem’s stare seemed to pierce the boy’s soul. Then he said, “The gods settled in the lands of The Sumerians. And these ones prospered because of it. They built incredible cities, technologies, temples. They grew spiritually, scientifically, economically. The Sumerians became highly intelligent, so one of them started a rebellion. He was called Mancer, because he had learned the sacred magic of the spirits and the stars…

“He was a visionary and wanted to free the people from these so-called gods, because he knew that tyranny was coming. Some didn’t believe him. Too many had fallen under the Sitchin’s control. Until one night of rebellion he was captured, tortured, and cursed to a never-ending state of death. A necro state. Damned to walk the earth deathless, and lifeless, for eternity. Do you know how that feels, boy?? To be not here, and not there either. A sort of a saeva limbus. An oblivion.”

As he started to amble away from the light, Ben tried to wriggle himself free. But he did it carefully in order to not pull the chair and bring noise. He used his magic. He focused, cleared his mind and felt his energy cancel out the chair’s grip. But as he stood up, Lord Furvusmortem had already disappeared in the obscurity of the place.

All of a sudden, a furious growl echoed in the dining hall! The beast emerged from the shadows of the place. This creature seemed possessed. The beast was a rabid dog with teeth as sharp as knives, and of the size of a lion. Certainly the beast had been summoned from the same pits of hell.

He moved with demonic speed towards Ben. There had been no time to react, or even think. Almost instantly then, the beast had him pinned against the ground. Ben fought him, but it was useless. The eyes of the creature seemed cold and cruel, just like his master’s. But the dog soon felt the aura of the wolf boy. He was the leader of the pack after all. The dog knew that.

Benjamin Jones whispered to the rabid dog, then with a soft and tamed demeanor the large beast licked his face. The slobber was friendly but disgusting at first, but soon Ben was rubbing the tummy of his new friend who was just as docile as a baby rabbit. The dog’s tail went side to side joyfully.

Ben felt proud of himself. And there was a powerful awe in him as well. He had just transformed a most ferocious beast into a cuddly puppy. And, the best of all, he also felt the strong connection to the dog. He then recalled that dogs and wolves belonged to the same family. Obviously, Ben did so as well.

Now, from beyond the darkness the applause sounded with poise. “Magnificent. You are indeed the wolf boy. The reincarnation of the legend. Cursed by the same man who became The Necromancer of the Four Winds after he was also cursed.” As Lord Furvusmortem said this, his shape strutted out of the curtain of blackness.

Ben was now paying attention to the arrogant Lord of The Dead. “So, you were the man in the story…?? You are the mancer?? Cursed to walk with the dead. But what do you want from me?! I did not curse you,” Ben said.

He did not look amused anymore. His eyes turned colder, crueler. He suddenly stopped, looked at him sharply, then directed Ben’s view to a big mirror hanged upon the wall behind the counter. The surface looked now silvery and unstable, because it was moving, flowing like the waters of a river.

It quickly became obvious that the mirror was turning into some kind of portal or window, because lost in the silvery substance you could see demons almost drowning in it. Trapped maybe. Was this a vision of hell…?? Ben took a few steps back. The dog was now somewhere whimpering.

The lamenting and tormenting were being half muffled by the incessant sounds of the ardent flames devouring them like crispy wood. Why was the necromancer showing this to Ben…?? What was the point of all this??

There was another dimension there. Perhaps the underworld. He felt the connection. And, right then and there, Ben understood what he was destined to face. Did he even have a choice, or had it been made for him already??

Ben’s face was cringing, not out of fear but out of torture. He was somehow feeling what the poor souls felt. He was sensitive to their hellish plight. He wondered why they were there. He wondered if they’d be stuck there for eternity. Then a tear rolled down his face. But he knew he couldn’t do anything to help them.

While Ben was taken by this, the voice of Lord Furvusmortem came to him, “We are fated to each other. We are cursed. Good and evil, Benjamin.” As he said this, the portal to hell closed, the mirror shattered, and winds arose from the four points in the room.

This lasted for a few more seconds, then Lord Furvusmortem vanished in the shadows of the dining hall. His fedora, which had fallen on the floor, shook and quickly vanished. Then it all turned black, and the winds died down.


And if you enjoyed reading my article, please take a moment to visit my currently published work.  I write about self-development, the poetry of the better life, love and relationships.

REVIEW OF MY BOOKS: “I really loved the depth of your approach, specially because sometimes I struggle with low self-esteem and that gets into my relationship with my new wife.  Thanks for helping us become aware of all these things.  Much love to you and yours.”

REVIEW OF MY BOOKS: “It allowed me to see another explanation of love..with a touch of humor i was able to find a sensible place to kick back to enjoy knowing I have always been Loved!!  YOUR advice is like finding a treasure. Thank you so much sharing!”

“I ALWAYS LOVED YOU.” A book about love and relationships.

“LEAVING THE HERD” (part 1). A book about self-esteem and individuality.

“LEAVING THE HERD” (part 2). A book about enlightenment and the renaissance of the leader in you.