Waking God II:  The Sacred Rota ...is on its way!   Below are some samples from the new book.    Prologue               They meet in a place that is no place, in a moment outside of time...              “Why have you called this meeting?  We have nothing to discuss.”             “Oh, but we have much to discuss.  You may think that you have won, but you are deluding yourself.”             “You have never lacked confidence, Greatest of the Archangels, but you must know that at least in this world you are on the cusp of extinction.”             “You are blinded by your own folly and that will be your downfall, again.  Just because you have Andrew and Mara, you think that you will give birth to your god seed.  But I warn you, if you permit conception you will be destroying your beloved humanity.”             “Will you never admit defeat?  The seeds shall unite and Adam will rise to lead Israel to its destined place among the gods.  You cannot stop this.”             “Would you permit inception knowing that all humanity, saving my loyal few, would perish?  You said yourself in Mexico that I had revealed my plans, and you were right.  The seals will be opened unless you abandon your pretentious little Adam.”             “You wouldn’t.”             “I would and I shall.  You have never appreciated my will to survive and to maintain dominion over your petty little flock.  To show you how serious I am…” A book appears in the firmament, and on the book are seven seals.  The lamb, in Mantrella’s image, opens the first, and the seal is broken—   And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer…             “How dare you!  You tread where none should go!  If we were not in this place I would…”             “You would try and fail as you always have.  And as for treading, it is you who are being the fool.  Cease your meddling or more seals shall be opened.”     Chapter One               At the end of the block a car bomb shook the windows out of the surrounding houses.  He desperately grabbed for his wife and wrapped a cloth over her face.  The little girl was at their heels, marking their harried steps like a shadow, and together the three fell into the dusty street and turned eastward.             “Faris, where do you rush us to?” the woman cried through the makeshift veil.  “People are burning in the streets!”             Spinning on the balls of his feet, he slapped away a tin can that nearly struck his daughter.  “Warda, trust me.  We have to get out of here.  I’ve had enough of this murder, this futile war.”             A loudspeaker in the central square announced the successful execution of another warlord as the sun broke over the temple domes and United States Marines marched through the main street of the capital city.              “We are leaving while we can,” Faris said forcefully.  He reached down for the daughter’s hand and pulled her close to him.  “Our Malak will not live like this.”             A handful of boys screamed at them from behind the chain link fence of the school yard.  “Go away, Sufi scum!  Feed off the pigs you breed!”             Faris pushed his family across the street to an intersection.  “The checkpoint!” he choked in broken English as he demanded the attention of two American soldiers.  “I must need the checkpoint for leaving.”             The squadron sergeant smiled at his subordinate and adjusted the machine gun strap on his shoulder.  “What the fuck do you want, camel boy?”             “The checkpoint.  My family and I must leave torn places.”  He was pleading with them now as sweat ran in clean streaks down his dirty face.              “This your knight in shining armor?” the soldier quipped, engaging the black round eyes of the woman.  “Nobody’s gettin’ outta here,” he added solemnly.  “Not until we can get you dogs to stop killin’ each other.”             Faris set his jaw and squeezed his daughter’s hand until she whimpered.  “I go myself, then,” he spit, shoving the girls away from the soldiers.  “I go myself!” he yelled back at them as the family moved deeper into the steaming town.             A spit of machine gun fire crackled in their ears and the three fell roughly to the sandy road.  Men yelled and one of the soldiers that Faris had encountered lay writhing on the ground and struggling to yank free the radio at this shoulder.  The other Marine had retreated around the corner and was returning fire toward an invisible assassin.      Chapter Twelve               David Dajjal was a tall man standing at six feet, three inches.  Slight of build, his jet-black hair was longer than one would expect of a diplomat, adding certain flair to his overall appearance.  Skin moderately dark and facial lines smooth for being of Middle Eastern descent, at the age of forty-five he was in his prime with respect to the balanced combination of maturity, experience, and appealing physical features.             Yet, these positive physical traits were overshadowed by a single striking feature—his deep, rich blue eyes, which were mesmerizing and easily expressed all of his emotions.  They could not hide his passions, whether happy, angry, or sad; they could melt the heart and chill the soul.              His eyes had not always been blue.  From the usual brown at birth, they changed at the age of twelve.  While he had few friends as a child, those who did know him were frightened at the color transition and he became even more isolated.  David had a brother and a sister, both younger, but as they attended the traditional semi-public schools for the wealthy, he was privately tutored.  He had little time for play and there was no closeness with his siblings.             Late one cool night his parents received a visitor.  When the man arrived David was sent to his room so as not to overhear the conversation.  Considering his parents’ actions abnormal, his curiosity was piqued, and from the stairwell he secretly observed the meeting.  He only caught fleeting glimpses of the stranger and he thought the man seemed to glow.  At one point his parents knelt as if in prayer or worship; his mother wept and his father beamed with pride and joy.  When the meeting was over, the stranger left the house.  David ran to the window at the end of the hallway in order to watch the mysterious man leave, but while he had heard the front door close behind the visitor, there was no further sign of him, as if the man had vanished altogether into the cool night.              From that moment on, his life was never the same.  The next day his eyes changed color and his parents informed him that he would be under the supervision of several private tutors.  His mother and father refused to answer any questions about the stranger, though they constantly smiled when they looked at him as if they knew some wonderful secret that they would not divulge.  His father’s carpet business, which had been steady, exploded with success and their newly found wealth found them moving to a more secluded, albeit plush, estate.  The luxurious mansion and grounds were surrounded by a stone wall that was guarded by armed men who never spoke to David, or to anyone.              Almost never leaving the compound, his tutors spent endless hours teaching him religion, science, philosophy, and the finer arts of diplomacy.  David was alone and unhappy.  He rarely saw his siblings and he had few conversations with his parents.  His father’s new business dealings kept him away from home for long stretches of time, and while his mother was loving and polite, she was more reverent than maternal.             David had no childhood, in the normal sense.  Instead of playing he was frequently required to attend social events where he would be required to use his growing diplomatic skills.  He was monitored by his tutors and chastised if he failed to follow proper etiquette at weddings, local political meetings, or the many parties he was made to attend.  Strangers frequented his home, and he engaged in conversation normally reserved for more adult company.  His opinion was sought on a full range of social, political, economic, religious, and environmental issues.  Again, his tutors would always be within earshot so as to be able to voice their corrections when the guests had departed.  People of all religious persuasions were brought into his company and it became imperative that he know the details of each spiritual tradition.  In time, he began to appreciate the commonality that underlay all such belief systems.             On his eighteenth birthday, his life shifted once again.  He was required to attend a reception in a nearby village that was hosted by an important political leader who was visiting Israel.  Abdul-Quhhar of Syria was a ruler with immense power and influence.  His sixteen-year-old daughter, Cantara accompanied her family on this trip, and was presented to David in the garden where food was being served.  David was immediately attracted to the beautiful young maiden.  Although draped in silken garments that covered all that a young man would like to see, her budding features were fully evident.  Cantara had obviously been trained in the social graces, as had David, and her style of polite conversation drew his full attention.  Not able to discuss political or social issues, Cantara amused David with her quaint stories of her life in Syria as well as with her views on a woman’s role in society, both of which were rooted in conservative Muslim values.             Enthralled and captured by Cantara’s charms and beauty, David married her one year later.  Within the following year they had their first child, Ahmed, and twelve months after that their daughter, Siham was born.             David was not a popular politician, but he was an excellent political technician.  Skills learned from his tutors were invaluable as he rose from the position of mayor to become head of the Union of Local Authorities.  People found him to be effective in getting things done, no matter how elusive and withdrawn from direct public contact he remained.  He played the political game well, attending all of the right events and donating to those individuals and causes that helped him to climb the political ladder.  Though his appointment as State Comptroller by the Knesset may not have seemed like a smart political move by some, it was here that David used his combined heritage as a platform to further the plans that had been laid out for him years earlier.