Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Heaven Leigh Eldeen - The Demon Side

I want to welcome Heaven Leigh Eldeen to my blog today. I hope you enjoy her story and I know you will love her book The Demon Side.

With the recent release of my novella, The Demon Side, I decided to do a little research into who is today’s reader. Spending hours upon hours speaking with friends, random folk at the library, and reading article after article pertaining to studies online, only one conclusion is clear. More women read than men, especially when it comes to the Fiction genre.

Now, I am sure we can think of a million and one reasons why this is; everything from the obvious differences of gender, to the theory men’s brains are more drawn to mathematical and scientific studies, whereas women tend to be the more literature and creative driven sex. No matter the reasoning, it doesn’t change the facts that women rule the book world.

With this new found knowledge, one question keeps popping up in my head…where are the real heroines at? And, no, I don’t mean bat girl. I mean really, what woman would waste three hours a night squeezing into that outfit before she’s off to fight the crime of Gotham City? I don’t believe for one minute any woman can do a round house kick in a pleather cat suit without pulling her groin.  Trust me, I’ve tried. But that’s a story for a different day.

My personal opinion is, too many novels focus either on a five-foot-nine, hundred-thirty pound, overly attractive, mindless twit of a woman being the helpless damsel in distress, trusting the first guy she meets with her life, then she suddenly falls in love with her hero, or you find an unrealistic, six foot, hundred-twenty pound, ass kicking broad with an I.Q. far beyond that of Albert Einstein’s, who happens to have an arsenal of top secret military equipment in her underwear drawer next to her four hundred dollar Nancy Meyer thongs.

I’m not complaining, mind you. I love those novels. I am a sucker for super-secret feminist agents and the girl next door survivalist. But, where is the five-foot-five, hundred-sixty-nine pound housewife with three kids, who can swing a broom better than Babe Ruth or Reggie Jackson can swing a bat and knows that running up the stairs to get away from an ax murderer equals eminent death?

Where is the relatable, everyday woman we pass each day in the aisles of Wal-Mart? Why can’t she save the world with a blue light special shotgun and her knowledge of household chemicals? Would it be so bad if the first time she nabs herself a hottie, she forgot to shave and yet he still can’t help but to rub her legs up and down until he finally…well, you get the idea.

Truth be told, the reason we don’t find our super heroes and ultimate victims at the local thrift store is because too often, they remind us of our own realities. What woman wants to spend her hard earned money and few precious moments of free time reading about what may be herself? I definitely do not. I’m reminded enough of this when I walk past my kitchen and see the line of tourists waiting to catch a glimpse of my leaning tower of dishes in the sink.

We buy into these women because they offer us an alternate world, far from the daily charade of keeping up with our responsibilities.  Throughout the chapters, we can choose who we wish to be, depending how the story unfolds. No longer are we the everyday woman rushing the kids off to school, racing to work, arguing about who is picking up Timmy from soccer practice and wondering why our underwear drawer is filled with chocolate and granny-panties instead of a laser sighted mini-gun.

 One paragraph may beckon us to be the woman suffocating her perfect body in a under sized cat suit, when the paragraph after, demands we allow the true hero to take our hand and lead us into the burning building of unavoidable doom. And all it costs is a little of our time, faith in our imagination and a small cover charge.

“Every kid has problems. Every kid has even more problems when they move to a new home. But when a kid with problems moves to a new home that has a Demon living inside it—look out!
 Etta’s world is about to spin out of control when she encounters her new roommate—and Rahovart, that ancient trickster, is in for a few surprises too. So don’t mind all the crashing and rumbling; that’s just the normal noise Angels and Demons make when they’re fighting an epic war in the attic.
 One thing’s for sure: Etta and Rahovart will have to go through Hell to Heaven and back again before that old Victorian home in Quantico Town finally quiets down… “


Etta plopped back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. I wished I could hear her thoughts. Her father had just admitted to being a murderer for all practical purposes, though that was not how I viewed him. I truly believed John only tried to save the village, but his fervor and some help from a desperate Alastor, turned what should have been a heroic act into a bloodbath. Many men have unknowingly fallen from grace in the name of the greater good. Now, hopefully Etta would see that her father was just the victim of blurred lines between good and evil.

“What are you thinking?” I asked as I lay down next to her on the bed.

“Can a person still go to Heaven even if they’ve killed someone?”

“Well, I’m not in the business of getting people to Heaven, Etta. That’s the last place I want them to go,” I reluctantly replied.

“Even if it were me?” Etta stared hard at me with watery eyes, looking right into my blackened soul. I never gave much thought to where her soul would go, except to stop her from mistakenly giving it to me.

“That is a choice for you to make. I can’t force you to choose a side. I can only put the temptations in front of you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What do you want me to say? I want to see you burn in the depths of Hell? You’ll never hear that from me. Only you and your actions can decide where you go when you leave this world.”

“I would go if it meant I could be with you, you know.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” As much as I would have loved for that to be the case, her comment angered me. I couldn’t imagine a person like her becoming something like me.

“I know that when you’re around I feel safe nothing could ever hurt me. I get butterflies in my stomach when you touch me. I know your soul, Ra. I don’t know how, but I know. I knew it the second I saw you. You weren’t meant for this existence. You fought for good once, and I’m certain you will again.” Etta was strong in words. She spoke with solid confidence. She described what I felt.


Heaven Liegh said...

Thank you so much for allowing me to take over your blog today. I'm having a blast going through your medicine cabinet. :P

Erika said...

Great post Heaven :) I love hostile takeovers :P


Lisa Worrall said...

I hope you left a window open in whatever basement you left her in...

Loved it :)

Bonni S. said...

Great post. See how fun it is to take over? I enjoyed my time on your blog. Hope you had lots of visitors. Loving your book btw. I have limited reading time, but once I finish I will write a review.

lynn said...

awesome! i definately want it.