Goddess of the Wild Thing
Paul DeBlassie III
Genre: Horror , Sci Fi and Fantasy
Book Description:
Goddess of the Wild Thing is a dramatic tale of one woman’s spiritual journey where magical happenings, unexpected turns of fate, and unseen forces influence her ability to love and be loved.
Eve Sanchez, a middle-aged woman and scholar of esoteric studies, encounters a seductive but frightening man who introduces her to a supernatural world in which the wicked powers of a surrogate mother’s twisted affection threaten love and life.
In the mystic realms of Aztlan del Sur, Eve and three friends struggle with whether bad love is better than no love and discover that love is a wild thing.
Unending man dramas weren’t
necessary to life and well-being. She was educated, had plenty of common sense,
and was street-smart. Countless members of the male species spoke of her in
hushed tones at the cantina, in university hallways, and at social events
when friends and colleagues were relaxed and enjoying themselves during
the cool, high-desert nights. The thought of hooking up
with the most desirable of fantasy felines for the evening rippled through the
undercurrent of verbal exchange. She should be able to attract the right kind
of man, one who was kind and caring and didn’t bring tidal waves of emotional
drama.
Eve had
no time to waste. She needed the counsel of her trusted friend and spiritual
guide. This turn of events was unlike any she’d ever encountered. It was
violent and bloody and made her fear for her safety.
This new fellow had seemed
genuine, courtly, romantic, and hot. He gave off a world-wise and street savvy
vibe. There was a gentleness and sensitivity to him, more so than the typical
single, middle-aged male on the lookout for female companionship and mind-blowing
times.
However, she’d unwittingly found
trouble and needed guidance from Graciéla, a seventy-eight-year-old wise woman,
crone, and seer into confusing matters of the heart. Graciéla waited for Eve at
the Sage Metaphysical Bookstore where she served as resident manager for an
absentee owner. Even after an exhausting day of seeing one desperate soul after
another, Graciéla agreed that Eve’s situation was critical. She’d stay late for
a friend and frightened soul.
Eve had to park blocks from the
store because lately, downtown had become a hub of clubs, theaters, and trendy
restaurants appealing to a congestion of new money and hot times. Close-in
parking was locked up by happy hour, so blocks away was her only choice. She
caught herself looking nervously from side to side and down twilight-shadowed
alleyways as she hurried along the cracked sidewalk. She felt safer along these
edgy streets with Shirley by her side, a genuine person and mystic cohort.
“Eve, honey . . .” Shirley paused
before going on.
Eve knew Shirley hesitated
because she was trying to be conciliatory—not an easy talent for a hard-bitten
woman.
The pause passed. “On the other
hand, maybe if bad love is what we get, bad love is just what we take. If there’s something better, I’m in . . . just
saying I’ve never seen it. Till I do, I for one gotta go with what I get.” Her
look toughened. “It’s just not come my way, and I’m not holding a
sure-to-turn-me-blue breath.” A tough attitude toward life, love, and men was
her stock-in-trade.
Eve smiled a bit. She loved her
friend and all her rough spots and edges. There were people who were mean but
not nasty, malicious, or toxic. Shirley was hardened and mean but only when and
if she needed to be.
Shirley’s hair floated a few
inches away from her shoulders, static currents conjuring magic. Eve’s
peripheral vision caught the streaks of what she imagined as a bonfire during a
war dance. Shirley spoke from experience, a woman smitten by man potential
going south quicker than a rattler hisses and bites.
Eve kept up her pace as she
contemplated Shirley’s words. Settling for less than what she wanted was no
good. It left her cold and empty. It was definitely no good. Plus, Shirley
didn’t know the whole story, only that gloom about the prospect of men and love
had descended, and Eve was taking it hard.
“Bad love’s a risk, Shirley. No
good for me. If I need to cut this thing short, so be it. But I’d rather see it
through. Maybe there’s a chance that the bad I’m afraid of isn’t there. Maybe
I’m blowing it up into something it isn’t. Maybe there’s good and I’m thinking
it’s bad. So if the good is down deep, real deep—I want to hold on and give it
a chance.” Eve pondered the words as a light rain started up. Then she went on,
“I need to hear what Graciéla has to say. I’d like to give things a chance. I’m
not giving up unless there’s no way out of emotional dead-ends and never-ending
heartache.”
Mists formed along the edges of the potholed asphalt
and cracked sidewalks. They twisted and curled, arising out of a subterranean
ether sphere. Usually, they arose during the early morning and hovered inches
above the downtown park’s green expanse, hardly ever at night with its fading
daytime desert heat, and hardly ever along the paved spaces. Darkness descended
and pressed down like a heavy hand, edgy and ominous.
About the Author:
Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D. is a depth psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico. He specializes in treating individuals in emotional and spiritual crisis. His novels, visionary thrillers, delve deep into archetypal realities as they play out dramatically in the lives of everyday people. Memberships include the Author’s Guild, the Depth Psychology Alliance, the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy, and the International Association for Jungian Studies.
Website www.pauldeblassieiii.com
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