Writer of Mystical History series Children of Stone. Costumer, art historian, artisan, student of wisdom, never a master, companion, old soul, Wise MaMa, Crone (not your sweet lil’ old granny) – I’m brash, volatile, vital & out of control. I’m wise in life but the lifelong search for peace has not cooled my jets. I’m a spiritualist and spirit hunter but down to earth and often salty. I thirst for more life and new adventures.
At one time I was cataloguing what I called “past lives and connections” I still have all the notes. I’ve written them into a series. My old identity song was “Little Old Lady from Pasadena” except I would never drive a car that fast.
In my Children of Stone series, I teach what I have seen in my dreams… many times what I saw became prophecy
100 years ago I would have been in a madhouse. In sane moments, I am devoted wife of Dr. Jackie Woldering, mother of two grown children, grandmother of three, and servant of three cats.
Voices in Crystal (Book 1 in the Children of Stone series) is a visionary and historical fantasy.
Remnants of an alien race of gods, wizards, shape-shifters, heroic mortals, immortals, slowly transform into the gods of ancient days. Like ancient superheroes, they wander through the reality of legend, reshaping myth and history.
“We are children made of stone
Tiny voices are as grains of sand
Come to Us Marai
Man of Ai
Man of the sand”
When Marai, a shepherd living at the foot of Mt. Sinai in the third millennium BC, sings to his goddess one night, he sees a falling star. Tracking it he discovers a strange vessel containing crystalline entities resembling earthly stones and gems: The Children of Stone. The Children delight in this simple shepherd and his songs of love. They ask him to host their intelligence; to bring them to the sages and priests who have spent their lives seeking the wisdom of the stars. When he agrees, he is transformed into a godlike being. Still a passionate shepherd at heart, Marai gathers others, like lambs to his fold. His journey to the wise men of ancient Kemet won’t be easy. Things hidden that wait in darkness, are always there.
“O beautiful one, Asher-ellit;
Immaculate one of the goddesses,
Torch of Heaven and earth,
Radiance of all the lands,
Goddess ‘Lady of Heaven’,
First-begotten of Sin,
First-born of Ningal,
Sweet sister of Shamas
O Asher-Anu, you rule the heavens;
Oh Queen of Morning and Evening Sky,”
Marai’s voice rose like the drone of a horn.
“Come bless me this starry night.
Shine for one who begs to serve you.
Come bless me this starry night.”
Each phrase the shepherd sang to his goddess was different from the one that came before it. He never planned his songs of worship. In each part of his song, Marai worshiped a particular aspect of his beloved, yet dreaded goddess.
Do you hear me, sweet one? He asked the night sky between verses. Tonight might be the last one for a long time. He noticed his hands were up in supplication, as if they were holding his song aloft for her. Only the stars answered with their quiet twinkles. Maybe there’s nothing to sing to. Maybe Sheb is right. Maybe it is time to go. He let his arms drop after a few moments, then trudged cheerlessly into the inner recesses of his cave home to collapse in sleep. I should sing some more…try one more time. On a night like this I used to sing till dawn. I have to think. Tired. Too tired.