Title : Earth Sentinels: The Storm Creators
Author : Shaman Elizabeth Herrera
Pages : 270 pages
Published May 18, 2014
Book Description
A fallen angel somberly observes the world
being destroyed by mankind’s greed, corruption and indifference. Realizing
drastic measures are needed, he begins searching the globe for people who might
join his quest to save the planet.
He finds 17-year-old Zachary, whose family’s
organic farm is being ruined by fracking; Haruto, living in Fukushima,
Japan, where the nuclear meltdown is raging out of control; Mahakanta, a cotton
farmer in India, who used GMO seeds with devastating results; the Amazonian
tribe members, Conchita and her father, Pahtia, fighting against intruders
illegally tearing down their rainforest; and the Bear Claw First Nation
Tribe who are dealing with an unstoppable oil spill that is ruining their
traditional hunting grounds.
Using supernatural powers, the Earth
Sentinels grab the world’s attention, but as the events unfold and countries
retaliate, the characters are forced to question their motives and listen to
their hearts.
Excerpt : Chapter One
Bear Claw Lake
A white,
double cab pickup truck was driving down Highway 55 in remote Canada, heading
toward Bear Claw Lake, one of the deepest and largest bodies of water in the
Alberta province.
The passengers were the second team of specialists commissioned by the
Falicon Gas and Oil Company to investigate an ongoing oil spill. Their
predecessors had been unable to solve the crisis, because this was a new kind
of oil spill, the kind with no “off button.”
The disaster had been caused by the company’s use of the in-situ
extraction method, which pressurized the oil bed with extremely hot steam and
chemicals. The pressure cracked the reservoir, causing oil to escape through a
spider web of cracks in the earth, rising to the surface where it smothered the
plants and trees and bubbled from the lake.
Falicon and the Canadian natural resources department publicly
announced that the affected areas were being cleaned up and reduced daily.
However, it was not true. To safeguard their interests, a no-fly zone was put
into effect over the lake. The official statement was that it protected
civilian planes and helicopters from the increased activity around the nearby
military base.
The double cab pickup turned off the main highway onto a paved two lane
road that eventually became a dirt track. Dust billowed behind the vehicle as
it sped toward the disaster. After several miles, the driver caught a glimpse
of a truck in his rearview mirror. It was an old GMC, painted robin’s egg blue
with a rusty chrome grill and bumper. Inside were two men from the nearby Bear
Claw First Nation reservation, glaring at Falicon’s hired men. The passenger
riding shotgun held a Winchester 30-30 rifle between his knees, the barrel
protruding a few inches above the dashboard.
The oil company driver said, “Don’t look, but we’re being tailed by
Indians.” The engineers and scientist immediately peered out the back window.
“Jesus! I told you not to look!” The driver was clearly irritated. The
passengers spun around, focusing their eyes straight ahead. “Now, keep your
cool. They’re probably just headed back to the rez and havin’ a little fun with
us.” The driver’s comments provided little relief to the others, who were
obviously uncomfortable.
The blue truck closed in on them, nearly bumping their rear end before
easing back. The engineers and scientist tensely waited for the driver to
react, but he stayed calm, stating matter-of-factly, “Don’t worry. Those punks
won’t do anything. Nobody wins if someone gets hurt out here.” They drove in
silence until the truck behind them finally veered off, heading toward tribal
territory.
A mile later, the crew came to a security check point. A guard waved
them through, directing them to a grassy area where a dozen company vehicles
were already parked. Beyond this point were hundreds of square kilometers of
what used to be a virgin forest.
The men got out to remove their equipment from the back of the truck.
When everyone was ready, they trudged through the eerily quiet forest.
Mike, the head engineer, sniffed the air. “Something smells terrible!
This isn’t going to be pretty.”
The team cautiously approached the lake, observing the disaster splayed
out before them. The water was covered with an iridescent film of oil,
decomposing into a foul, brown sludge along the shoreline. A few Canadian geese
and a loon gasped for air, struggling to flap their oil-covered wings. A
bloated beaver carcass bobbed in the lake. Dead walleye, sauger, lake trout and
other fish species floated on the surface. The surrounding vegetation lay
rotting in the sun. The cleanup crew, fully protected inside their bio-hazard
suits, was using rakes to cull the tar balls.
The scientist stared at the disaster. “I gave my recommendations early
on. I told headquarters we had no ‘Plan B’ if something went wrong, but they
went ahead anyway. Fuck the animals! Fuck the planet!” He threw his hard hat
down. “Do they really expect us to depressurize the earth!?”
The ground shuddered, sending a warning signal.
“Did you feel that?”
Mike answered, “Yeah…didn’t think they had tremors here.”
Suddenly, lightning blazed out of the clear blue sky, striking the
water. Thunder boomed as the oil ignited, creating a lake of fire. The flames
reached the shoreline, following channels of oil runoff, spreading through the
forest until one of the fire streams reached an oil reservoir where it
exploded, creating a mammoth ball of fire that billowed over the trees. The
force of the combustion knocked down the engineers, scientists and cleanup
crew. Thick, black smoke descended upon the dazed team, who struggled to their
feet, coughing and choking. The earth shook again. Everyone raced out of the
man-made hell.
On the other
side of the forest, the Bear Claw First Nation Tribe heard the explosion and
saw the fireball arch over the trees. Children stopped chasing a ball. Men
playing poker in the shade were dumbfounded by the sight. Finally, one of them
spoke, “I knew the oil company would screw up again. They always do.”
“It’s time for a council meeting,” said Tom Running Deer, “It’s time
for this to end.”
Author Interview:
Which comes first? The character’s story or the
idea for the novel?
The idea comes first, creating a strong
backbone for the story. The characters naturally follow.
Please tell us a bit about your childhood.
I was born in a bi-racial home, a mixture of
Celtic, Hispanic and Apache. I lived the first half of my life in the city and
the second half in the country, living in a house my father and his brothers
built on an acre of my grandparent’s farm.
I was raised in a Christian
home, but lost my faith in my early twenties. For over a decade, I searched for
something to fill the void, and eventually discovered Native American
spirituality (shamanism). Through this spiritual practice, I unexpectedly
became a catalyst for healing and miracles. These events led me back to a
belief in a higher power.
My great-grandfather was a
full-blooded Apache, who raised my father. I have memories of my great-grandfather,
who smuggled sugar and flour from Mexico into Texas, exchanged gunfire
with Texas
Rangers and crossed paths
with Pancho Villa, sitting in the kitchen reading a newspaper while my
great-grandmother made tortillas.
While growing up, my family
spent most weekends with our extended family. On my father’s side, they would
play guitars and eat.
My grandparents and
great-grandparents on both sides of my family owned farms, so I spent a lot of
time exploring the fields and barns, and playing with the animals.
What Childhood experience impacted
you the most?
The ’70s recession caused my
parents to go bankrupt. My father was a homebuilder, who was hit hard by the
high-teen interest rates. There were times when we literally did not have
enough to eat or money to heat the house. I slept in my winter jacket to stay
warm. People would joke that I always had my coat on — they just didn’t know
why.
Most kids complained about
their school lunches, but for me it was the biggest meal of the day and I
looked forward to it. Fortunately, within a few years we were back on our feet.
My mother once told me she never would say we were poor, because as soon as she
said it, it would be true.
Did you like reading when you were a child?
Reading was the only thing that I wanted to
learn at school, and once I started reading, I never stopped! In third grade, I
won the class reading contest by reading 80 books!
Which writers have influenced you the most?
Richard Bach, Paulo Coelho, Deepak Chopra,
Yann Martel, Pat Conroy, Steven King and Ray Bradbury.
Do you hear from your readers much? What kinds of
things do they say?
The response I get the most is them asking
if I am available to perform shamanic healing. Other times, they will mention
that my book had a profound impact on their life, which is a wonderful
confirmation that I am on the right track.
Do you have a specific writing style?
I start with an idea and let it ferment.
Then, I research it for several months. Along the way, flashes of scenes will
appear, showing me characters, strifes, solutions, but never the complete
story. Then I just let the story unfold by sitting at the computer and asking
myself, “What happens next?” or “I wonder what so-and-so is doing?” Because I
have been a graphic designer for 30 years, I am a very visual person and see
the scenes play like a movie, then I write what I see and “hear.”
Often the chapters will seem unrelated in
the beginning, but eventually the characters and events begin to intertwine. I
don’t know the ending until I write it. This method helps keep it fresh and
intriguing for me as a writer. If I had an outline and knew the complete story
beforehand, I think I would get bored and possibly not finish it.
What can we look forward to from you in the future?
I am going further down the rabbit hole to
reveal how we are being controlled by unseen forces, and yes, this includes
beings from other planets. I am also focused on the world’s corruption and
destruction of our planet, so there may be more stories similar to Earth
Sentinels, or possibly a series. I just go with the flow.
Author Bio
Shaman
Elizabeth Herrera is a healer and author who writes life-changing books. Her
stories encourage people to stretch outside their comfort zones and reexamine
their own beliefs.
Elizabeth
was raised in a Christian home, but lost her faith in her early twenties. For
over a decade, she searched for something to fill the void, eventually
discovering Native American spirituality (shamanism). Through this spiritual
practice, she unexpectedly became a catalyst for healing and miracles. These
events led her back to a belief in a higher power.
Her
great-grandfather was a full-blooded Apache, who raised her father. She was
fortunate to know her great-grandfather. He smuggled sugar and flour from
Mexico into Texas, exchanged gunfire with Texas Rangers and crossed paths with
Pancho Villa.
She is
the author of Shaman Stone Soup, Dreams of Dying and Earth Sentinels.
Born
and raised in Michigan, she now lives in North Carolina with her family.
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