New Book Release!

Did you know? 📚For every 1,000 people who begin a book, about 30 will complete it, and only around six of those will ever see it published…

📘👀Check out my statistical anomaly, “The Daughters Of Man” the 3rd book in the “Child Of The Universe” series.

🌀Visit the lifetime of Soraya, a pre-historic woman who experienced the brutal invasion of Earth by a ruthless group of travelers known as “The Watchers.” 

Born as the eldest daughter of her family, Soraya is destined to be sacrificed as a wife to the giant beings from the sky. On the day of her ominous mating ceremony, chaos erupts and Soraya is left for dead amongst all she has ever known. Her story is one of survival and perseverance in the face of the unknown. 

“The Daughters Of Man” is available starting 12/12 on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple/iTunes, and Payhip. You can find all the links from my website JLFSullivan.com on the homepage 💻💸

Thank you for continuing to support independent authors and independent publishing houses. Your continued interest in my stories of past lives and forgotten history has made all the difference ❤️

From “The Daughters Of Man”:

“In the beginning there was a recognition that we might be the last of our kind. 

The first steps out of the tunneled burrows of our sacred mountain were marked by the curiosity of what else on our great planet had survived the darkest of times. This is what my elders have wisely imparted about our earliest days. Reminding us through their stories of a time when our people left the safety of the cave and re-emerged into an outside world made hospitable again over many generations. Encouraging us with chanted words as children to instill a sense of gratitude for being the descendents of survivors from these cataclysmic times of change. 

It was believed that our people were chosen to survive, that a celestial child had appeared one day before the Earth changes to redeem our kind. Within the cylindrical stone Chasm our people had been ordered to bury by our overlords with mounds of sand, the infant appeared in a flash of bright white light as the first grains touched upon the stone floor. Inside the tightly clenched fist of the iridescent haired child was the small Red Crystal my people have since been guided by for countless generations. 

My elders would tell stories of how Zana, how the celestial child and her crystal were hidden amongst our people as our enslavers from the sky prepared to flee the planet before the Earth changes. The snakelike streaks of light that crossed the sky during this ancient time of upheaval are engraved into a small metal box made from the remainder of the ships that once came to enslave our people. This metal box was only to be touched by the female descendants of the mysterious child, the women of my maternal line. 

Within the confines of the box we housed the delicate Red Crystal that had allowed for my people to continue where it seemed no others had prevailed. The etched warning of the fireballs that tore through the sky, are only second to the fear the metal box stirs within. It is a reminder that though we are now free, our enslavers may one day return to claim what was once theirs. From the sky, our legends say, they watched and waited for the Earth changes to end. But that time has come and gone. To the skies we looked and believed they watched us while we grew in numbers, generation after generation, growing and expanding. Slowly becoming immune to the fear of the return of The Watchers. 

Somewhere along the river's end, beneath the hot and heavy sky, my father’s people made a home for themselves. Enrobed in the sun our people had once been denied, we strengthened our  determination to survive in this water world of reeds and mud. Others had left the caves alongside us and settled in different terrain, creating a network for trading our surpluses and knowledge for each other's betterment. We had grown and prospered, but our traditions had not let us forget the Watchers might still be watching, waiting for the perfect moment to return us to our forgotten chains. We, the daughters of man, would all be made wives should they return to restart their marauding civilization. We, the daughters of man, were the first to realize that being the last of our kind, our elders greatest lesson of survival, was not the distinction we believed it to be. Nothing they had shared with us prepared us for the devastating future that lay ahead. Nothing they had shared with us prepared us for the return of The Watchers.”