Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Unleashing the Gods
    Unleashing the Gods
    Unleashing the Gods
    Ebook171 pages2 hours

    Unleashing the Gods

    By Zimbell House Publishing, Isabella Cheung, E W Farnsworth and

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Steam engines and mechanical advances abound ushering in the Industrial Revolution while in the deserts of Egypt, archaeologists  are uncovering lost secrets.

    In 19th century England, an unlikely pair of siblings discover a connection between the advances of Ancient Egypt's architectural achievements and man's leap forward in mechanical engineering.

    It's a race to discover if this new knowledge is due to evolution or the tinkering of the gods.

    Featured Contributors:

    Isabella Cheung
    E. W.  Farnsworth
    Melissa Marguerite
    James Romansky
    and
    Wendy Steele

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherZimbell House Publishing
    Release dateJan 15, 2019
    ISBN9781643900117
    Unleashing the Gods
    Author

    Zimbell House Publishing

    Zimbell House Publishing is dedicated to promoting new writers. To enable us to do this, we create themed anthologies and send out a call for submissions. These calls are updated monthly, typically we have at least four months worth on our website at any given time. To see what we are working on next, please paste this link into your browser and save it to your bookmarks: http://zimbellhousepublishing.com/contest-submissions/ All submissions are vetted by our acquisitions team. By developing these anthologies, we can promote new writers to readers across the globe. We hope we've helped you find a new favorite to follow! Are you interested in helping a particular writer's career? Write a review and mention them by name. You can post reviews on our website, or through any retailer you purchased from.  Interested in becoming a published author? Check out our website for a look behind the scenes of what it takes to bring a manuscript to a published book. http://zimbellhousepublishing.com/publishing-services/process-behind-scenes/ We hope to hear from you soon.

    Read more from Zimbell House Publishing

    Related to Unleashing the Gods

    Related ebooks

    Fantasy For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Wayétu Moore

      Jun 15, 2018

      Lai was hidden in the middle of forests when the Vai people found it. There was evidence of earlier townsmen there, as ends of stoneware and crushed diamonds were found scattered on hilltops in the unexpected company of domestic cats. But when the Va

      29 min read

    • Article

      Precious Echo TRAPPED In A Wall For 12 DAYS

      Sep 8, 2021

      Meghan Randell, 34, Hamlyn Terrace, NSW Echo!’ my two-year-old son Lincon cooed, eyes wide with delight. Our new pet, a mini fox terrier cross cavalier spaniel, wriggled in his arms. I’d just adopted Echo as a companion dog for Lincon, who has disab

      3 min read

    • Article

      The Luxury Lodge

      May 3, 2022

      The Luxury Lodge
      6 min read

    • Article

      Lay Your Burden Down

      Mar 1, 2019

      Lay Your Burden Down
      15 min read

    • Article

      Animal Angels

      Apr 27, 2020

      Animal Angels
      3 min read

    • Article

      Metaphors

      Mar 10, 2023

      I’m knitting on my front porch when a car roars to a stop in front of my house. It’s a red Mustang convertible, top down on this warm Thursday afternoon in June. Two girls sit in the front, two in the back. They smile and wave at me. I smile back tho

      8 min read

    • Article

      Alexa, Call 999!

      Apr 14, 2022

      Alexa, Call 999!
      4 min read

    • Article

      Timespiral

      Feb 1, 2020

      Timespiral
      7 min read

    • Article

      The July War

      Sep 8, 2020

      In summer, our neighborhood quiets in phases. The quieting begins in May. Schools give their older kids, the seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds, a month off to prepare for the baccalaureate exams. Following a ritual as old as our parents, the students

      21 min read

    • Article

      Abandoned

      May 24, 2022

      Abandoned
      5 min read

    • Article

      Echoes Of The Bunny Man

      May 18, 2023

      Echoes Of The Bunny Man
      5 min read

    • Article

      “Really?”

      Jun 2, 2022

      “Really?”
      6 min read

    • Article

      Confido BY KURT VONNEGUT

      Nov 1, 2022

      Confido BY KURT VONNEGUT
      13 min read

    • Article

      Finding Peace

      Dec 31, 2023

      Finding Peace
      4 min read

    • Article

      Letting Go of Leon

      May 18, 2020

      Letting Go of Leon
      5 min read

    • Article

      Abandoned

      Jun 3, 2021

      Abandoned
      5 min read

    • Article

      Little Gods

      Jan 8, 2020

      Little Gods
      8 min read

    • Article

      The Education of Mrs. R.

      Sep 6, 2022

      An adolescent shriek woke her. Cockerels, she thought, cockerels, with a wry twist to the word. She lay in the dark listening. There was no use in covering her head; the screaming still came through. The soloist was suddenly submerged in the chorus.

      13 min read

    • Article

      The Nemesis

      Jan 4, 2021

      DI Isabel Blood stood at the edge of the crime scene with DS Daniel Fairfax, the newest member of Bainbridge CID. “Ready to tackle your first murder investigation here in Bainbridge, Dan?” she said. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He smiled nervously as he

      6 min read

    • Article

      The VISITATION

      Jan 4, 2022

      The VISITATION
      6 min read

    • Article

      Alexa , Help!

      May 18, 2023

      Alexa , Help!
      4 min read

    • Article

      Swisher Sweets

      May 1, 2022

      Swisher Sweets
      17 min read

    • Article

      About Ed

      Jun 14, 2022

      I walk into the orchid show with Ed. As soon as I see the tumultuous hall I know he won’t last long. Ed walks like an old man though he is forty. After ten minutes on his feet, he vomits on some purple phalaenopsis. I get him outside through a fire e

      18 min read

    • Article

      The Wolf

      Nov 6, 2018

      The Wolf
      12 min read

    • Article

      Go Betzi-boo!

      Apr 9, 2020

      Go Betzi-boo!
      3 min read

    • Article

      Four Things You Hear

      Jan 1, 2023

      THE HOLLOW OF the oak tree wasn’t dark enough. Zoia squeezed her head between her knees, letting her wool dress mute the sunlight, the sounds of the forest, and the angry knife of grief that found her heart every time she thought about last night. Zo

      7 min read

    • Article

      Lord Of The Flies

      Jun 11, 2019

      Lord Of The Flies
      4 min read

    • Article

      Equinox

      May 18, 2022

      In this strange world, where identities change with the rising and setting of the sun, supernatural forces are at work – and they’re causing trouble… St Leonars prison was an appropriately imposing building. It rose out of the surrounding shacks and

      5 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Unleashing the Gods

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Unleashing the Gods - Zimbell House Publishing

      This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. All characters appearing in this work are the product of the individual author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the written permission of the publisher.

      For permission requests, write to the publisher:

      Attention: Permissions Coordinator

      Zimbell House Publishing

      PO Box 1172

      Union Lake, Michigan 48387

      mail to: info@zimbellhousepublishing.com

      © 2019 Zimbell House Publishing

      Published in the United States by Zimbell House Publishing

      All Rights Reserved

      Trade Paper ISBN: 978-1-64390-009-4

      Kindle ISBN: 978-1-64390-010-0

      Digital ISBN: 978-1-64390-011-7

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2019900000

      First Edition: January 2019

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      Zimbell House Publishing

      Union Lake

      Acknowledgments

      ZIMBELL HOUSE PUBLISHING would like to thank all those that contributed to this anthology. We chose to showcase five new voices that best represented our vision for this work.

      We would also like to thank our Zimbell House team for all their hard work and dedication to these projects.

      Kindred

      James Romansky

      The comfortable unconsciousness that surrounded Ebon dissipated, slumber abandoned the boy to sit up awake in the dark. He awoke to the sound of snarling and baying from outside his bedroom window. In his grogginess he shifted in the warm sheets, unraveling their soft grip on his body. Cold air struck his skin as he threw the sheets from him.

      The snapping and barking continued from the pale-lit world outside. Fervent, hungry, growls made his heart quicken in his chest. He stole a glance at his sister as he maneuvered to the edge of his bed. Iva slept peacefully. She had drawn the sheets up to her chin, unaware of the beast outside their window.

      Throaty rasps and the distinct rattle of a chain pulled his wide eyes to the window. The lights of Baltimore warmed the city’s silhouette in the dark and cast warm hues into the starry night sky. Ebon’s feet dangled above the wooden floorboards. He pushed away the fear within him to walk toward the awful sound. Taking a deep, steadying breath, the ten-year-old convinced himself to go to the window, to view whatever devilry had woken him in the dark hours of the morning.

      He padded across the room, careful to avoid the creaky boards so not to wake Iva. He climbed onto the low window seat; its embroidered pad was cold but soft and accepting. Ebon searched the side yard from the second story perch of his father’s manor. He found the foul beast that wailed in the night.

      Winnie, he thought. The wolfhound was chained around its neck and secured to a thick-trunked tree. It dug deep ravines with its hind legs. Winnie snarled, baring white teeth and snapping her jaws with loud claps. The dog dove repeatedly in the same direction. A solitary lamp light from his father’s hunting shed shone through the small building’s window. Winnie growled at a shape that sat on a bench to the far side of the shed.

      Ebon’s father sat tense, his shoulders were drawn heavily forward. He puffed on the pipe he always carried with him, sending mists of smoke to hang around his person. The embers illuminated his face with each drag inward before dimming slowly.

      His father’s features were wide and hard, his cheekbones rested higher than most others did, a trait both he and Iva inherited. Brown hair spilled onto this brow, neat but uncombed. A large mustache covered his upper lip and stubble lined his chin. Despite the chilly air, his father wore a white linen undershirt that was taught against his frame. His black trousers, held up by suspenders, were dark against his skin and shirt.

      Ebon glanced at Winnie who had begun a constant wheezing howl at the man, desperately attempting to attack. Froth dripped from her mouth. Again, she retreated only to charge his father. The chain pulled tight and brought Winnie to the ground painfully.

      His father stood up slowly and methodically. The steps he took seemed weighted, arduous for him to accomplish.

      Ebon leapt from the seat and ran from the room out into the main hall of this wing of the manor. The open hallway had portraits lining one side while windows facing the east interspersed the other. The pale moon glow cast long shadows over the rugs and turned the faces of the paintings into ghostly figures.

      He moved through the hall as fast as his legs would carry him. He crossed under the copper tubes that permeated their home, relaying gas to all the built-in lamps. The intricate wooden designs of the house’s frame tied seamlessly into the iron metal support system, the slightly green oxidizing metal lent a sense that the home was ancient.

      Ebon’s legs churned hurriedly until he reached the large staircase that opened up onto the first floor. Metalwork artistry arose on either side of the steps as handrails. Industrial gearwork artfully worked its way through the rail. He took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping twice in his descent. He crossed the foyer quickly, passing the circular table that resided in the center of the room.

      Built into the polished wood centerpiece arose a lantern, its aged bronze frame held ornate glass and a flame that had never gone dark inside their home. Ebon let the faint light guide him through the ample space and toward the night that waited outside.

      He burst through the thick front doors and down the stone steps that led into the yard. Ebon turned and continued up to the side yard where his father’s hunting shed resided. Ebon’s bare feet swept over the damp grass with agile ease. He was sure he’d never run this fast before.

      As the boy continued around the house, he was blinded and rendered deaf with one bright flash. His ears rang from the gunshot.

      When his eyes again adjusted, Ebon found his father standing above Winnie. His hunting rifle hung loosely in his grip. The machinery of the bolt-action rifle was old but had been outfitted with a lengthy scope that nearly traversed the length of the barrel. The bright metal clashed with the oxidizing copper of the original rifle parts. A canister resided within the frame of the stock. From its stubby neck extended a metallic tube that wormed into the mechanism of the rifle.

      Winnie rested at her master’s feet. The chain was still taught and tight against the animal’s throat. Her tongue lulled out of her froth-infected mouth. A tongue that would wake Ebon from a deep sleep as the morning rays of sun just began to peak over the horizon. A bullet hole now resided over her right eye. He’d never seen her so still.

      Dad? Ebon asked. His voice was muffled in his own ears.

      His father turned abruptly. Before a mask of responsibility slid into place, Ebon spotted the sorrow and tears in his father’s gaze.

      Ebon. Despite what he’d seen in his father’s pale eyes, the man spoke with steady conviction. The boy looked down at the dead dog. His father stepped in his eye line to block Winnie from his view.

      Why? Ebon could only manage the one word. His voice shook with pure horror and despair, feelings he’d never experienced before.

      The boy’s father turned and met his desperate stare. Winnie was sick, he stated.

      You killed her, Ebon began to sob.

      I know, his father came close and knelt. He took his son in a firm embrace. She was very sick.

      She’d get better, offered the boy meekly as he broke away from his father.

      No. He shook his head. The man put a hand on his son’s shoulder and turned him away from the animal. He led him further down the side yard. Preventing him from looking back at Winnie.

      Ebon stopped, tears cascaded down his cold cheeks. He balled his hands into fists and pulled from his father’s touch. Tell me why you did that, he growled, doing good a job of impersonating the tone his father used when he or Iva misbehaved.

      We suffer, Ebon. His father stopped, keeping his eyes forward. All God’s creatures do, come time.

      She’d have gotten better, Ebon’s anger contributed to the unsteady warble in his voice. He pointed at the rifle. You didn’t let her.

      She was in agony, boy, He pointed at the dog’s body, his voice became grave, and brow furrowed. You don’t understand, but she is better off now. Come. He motioned and began to move toward the manor.

      I want to know why you killed her, Ebon demanded. He held his ground.

      Again, his father knelt; he dropped the rifle into the moist grass and took his son’s shoulders in both hands. Sometimes, we have to be strong. She was going to die. You would not have recognized her in the end, rabid as she was, he spat the words as if they tasted bad. She’d have attacked anything and anyone that came near. Even you. His eyes pleaded with the boy to understand.

      Ebon couldn’t say anything. The muscles in his throat that held back his sobs controlled his ability to speak. Knowing that if he allowed one sound to spill out, he would begin to sob uncontrollably.

      At times it’s the only option left. When there’s nothing else but pain, we’re forced to make hard decisions for those we care for.

      The boy nodded, and they stood in silence. Ebon whimpered sadly. His father hugged him but never told him to stop crying. He let Ebon mourn. He let him go to the animal and rest his head on its unmoving chest. When the boy was done crying, his father walked him through the servant’s entrance and the tight hallways of the mansion until they arrived back in the lantern-lit foyer.

      Go back to bed, his father told him gently.

      He trudged morosely up the stairs. He was lost in the anguish that encircled the memories of Winnie.

      Ebon, his father said. The boy looked back at him from halfway up the stairs. Hopelessness seemed to permeate every fiber of his being. You must be good in this life. Provide, protect, love. This was love son. Know that what’s right is seldom easy.

      Ebon nodded and made his way up the rest of the carpeted steps. He walked through the empty halls slowly, not wanting to return to the cold bed, one without Winnie by his side. The house felt empty; his companion wasn’t next to him. Without the tall, lithe, creature that walked him through the halls and the forests on the estate, he was alone.

      He moved through the open bedroom door. Iva remained asleep but had moved and readjusted. Ebon made his way to the window, pleading with the heavens that she wasn’t there, that this night hadn’t happened.

      Winnie lay where they had left her. His father walked around the side of the house now carrying a shovel in one arm. In the pale moonlight, he knew his father wept as he knelt to pet the dog lovingly. He scooped Winnie up into his arms gently, her limp form wobbled as he lifted. He proceeded out into the trees and disappeared among the shadows.

      For minutes he watched the unchanging tree line. Hoping Winnie might come bursting through the trees. She did not. He left the window, unable to hope any longer. He found the edge of the bed but felt no urge to find comfort within it.

      Eb? Iva asked groggily. She sat up, one eye open, the other clenched shut.

      He didn’t answer.

      What’s wrong? she asked.

      He shook his head.

      I heard lightning crack earlier, she peered at him. Don’t be scared, it’s only friction between clouds. But if you want, you can sleep over here, she offered and scooted to one side.

      He went to her bedside and crawled next to her as she lay her head back down on her pillow.

      Goodnight Ebon, Iva said sleepily.

      He couldn’t respond. Ebon wept silently in the dark, unable to tell his twin what their father had done.

      THE LUXURY AIRSHIP Murdock had meandered over the Atlantic Ocean after a four-day layover in Ireland. It glided up the coast and now drew near to its destination. Silently the dirigible made its way up the Patapsco River toward Baltimore. Three heat shafts from the bowls of the ship erupted into the balloon keeping the structure

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1