Religion, technology, and metaphysics merge in OneWay: The Oracle

MECHANICSBURG, Pa. — Sunbury Press has released OneWay: The Oracle, the second novel by Robin McClellan, in partnership with debut author Ruth Marie Oakes Watson.

owto_fcAbout the Book:
Is time as linear as it seems to be?
How far has technology advanced without the public knowing about it?
What are the true limits of consciousness?

It has been a couple of months since Angela had her last paranormal experience. In fact, her life has become routine again-comfortable again-especially with the peace of her Grandmother Iana’s presence. But little does she know, when she opens her grandmother’s Bible one fateful March morning, her life again will be thrown into amazing, enchanting, and dreadful disarray.

Angela’s visions are back, and they’re taking her places she never dreamed she’d go. Murders, terrorism, and tampered spirituality are building up against her, and she’ll need all the strength she can get from the love of her family and friends if she wants to get out alive-and perhaps even save the world in the process.

Excerpt:
Angela awoke that day as she did most others: to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Still in bed, she smiled to herself, completely contented by thoughts of what had happened two months previously. Faith could breathe more easily now; she finally knew that her mother had loved her, and thanks to her grandfather’s copper penny, she was more financially secure than Angela imagined she’d ever been. “I wonder what she’s doing now,” Angela thought to herself with a smile.

Then, rising from bed, she walked over to the window and peered outside. The morning was just being born, and the stars were just starting to hide themselves behind the sun’s rays. As she took in the scenery, thoughts of her grandmother Iana pushed against her temples and buried themselves in her mind. “You must be near . . . I can feel you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Spinning around, she faced the dresser and stared at her grandmother’s Bible, which sat atop it, abruptly wondering to herself if any additional clues about Iana’s life were hiding in the lines of her illustrations.

Then Angela tightened the belt of her robe, approached the dresser, and picked up the Bible. She pressed her left hand against its leather cover and rubbed it slowly, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there were answers right beneath her fingertips.

After opening the book, she idly flipped through its pages until she made her way to the back-to the page she’d unsealed to find Maggie’s treasure. To be honest, she hadn’t perused the Bible all that much since January, and it felt new and almost revitalizing to revisit the book-and what it was capable of-after having had time to recover from the first adventure it led her on.

As Angela turned the unsealed page, she found that there was another page behind it, folded over from right to left and sealed toward the spine. And the current day’s date, March 17, 2006, declared itself above the fold in old ink. “It should be safe to open now,” Angela thought to herself, in awe of her splendid timing. So, nervously, she cracked the red seal, peeled the wax away from the page, opened the fold from left to right, and revealed a drawing of a winged insect.

Below the drawing a Bible passage from Exodus was written.

Exodus 10:12: And the Lord said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand over Egypt so that locusts swarm over the land and devour everything growing in the fields, everything left by the hail.”

Puzzled and somewhat disturbed, Angela rubbed her index and middle fingers over the image. “This isn’t a locust,” she thought. “It’s a dragonfly.”

About the Authors:
Robin McClellan was born and raised in a small town outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Growing up in the world of science fiction and spirituality, at a young age he studied the Bible, meditation, lucid dreaming, self-hypnosis, and time travel. As Robin got older he turned his attention to the world of quantum physics, specifically subatomic particles and how they seem to co-exist with spirituality. Robin is a self-made musician, inventor, and an IT professional of over 30 years. Robin is a father, a son, a brother, and a lover of life. Robin is also the co-author of OneWay vol. 1 “The Message.”

Ruth Marie Oakes Watson grew up surrounded by a loving family in central Pennsylvania. As she explored the world around her, she became enraptured by spirituality and philosophy, both of which have their foundation in love. In her writing, she wants to explore the themes common to all of us and to find the connection we all share. She is a giraffe-lover, a wannabe dragon-rider, a dreamer, a musician, and a wife.

OneWay: The Oracle
Authored by Robin McClellan, Authored by Ruth Marie Oakes Watson
List Price: $16.95
6″ x 9″ (15.24 x 22.86 cm)
Black & White on White paper
290 pages
Sunbury Press, Inc.
ISBN-13: 978-1620067017
ISBN-10: 1620067013
BISAC: Fiction / Visionary & Metaphysical

For more information, please see:
http://www.sunburypressstore.com/OneWay-The-Oracle-978162…

The end of civilization as we know it due to climate change? Read Ed Rubin's cli-fi novel

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Sunbury Press has released The Heatstroke Line, Edward ‘s L Rubin’s first novel, a Cli-Fi thriller set in the near future.

thsl_fc‘Edward Rubin has temporarily exchanged his academic cap for a novelist’s hat and has written a powerful cli-fi novel set in the near future.

”He knows that “Mad Max,” “The Hunger Games,” “Waterworld,” “The Walking Dead,” and innumerable other books, movies and TV series attract large audiences by portraying a future where society has been devastated by war, disease, environmental calamity or supernatural disaster. Such post-apocalyptic tales constitute an important and widely-popular genre.

”As a novelist, Rubin wants to place his own cli-fi footprint in the sands of time and hopes that his book will serve as a kind of warning flare for readers now and in the future.”  — Dan Bloom, The Cli-Fi Report

EXCERPT:
Daniel Danten didn’t really want to have a family. What he wanted was to be a scientist, to teach at a university and produce original research. But this seemed so unlikely, given the state of things in Mountain America, that he decided to hedge his bets or he’d have nothing to show for his life. So he married a woman he convinced himself he was in love with and had three children. As it turned out, somewhat to his own surprise, he achieved his original goal, probably because he switched fields from astronomy to entomology, a subject of enormous practical concern these days. And now, with a secure position at one of Mountain America’s leading universities, his own lab, and a substantial list of publications to his credit, he spent most of his time worrying about his family. His wife, Garenika, was depressed, his ten year old son Michael was suffering from one of the many mysterious ailments that were appearing without warning or explanation, and his fourteen year old daughter Senly was hooked on Phantasie and running wild. Worst of all, his sixteen year old, Joshua, who had always been such a reliable, level-headed and generally gratifying son, had become an American Patriot.

On a blazing, early September afternoon, with the outdoor temperature spiking at 130 degrees Fahrenheit, he was sitting with Garenika in the waiting room at Denver Diagnostic Clinic while Michael was being examined by still one more doctor. Garenika thought they would get some sort of answer this time, but Dan was convinced that the doctor would come out of the examining room and say that she really couldn’t tell them what the problem is. Senly was spending a rare evening at home and Joshua was just returning from his field trip to the Enamel, an expedition that, Dan felt sure, was designed to make the participants angry, rather than providing them with information. The doctor appeared and Garenika jumped to her feet.

“Well,” the doctor said, “I really can’t tell you what the problem is.”

“Why not?” Garenika asked, her voice tinged with its increasingly frequent sense of panic. “Why can’t you find an answer for us? Look at him—he’s losing weight, his skin keeps getting blotchier, and he’s exhausted all the time.”

“I’m sorry. As you probably know, we’re pretty sure that we’re seeing all these new diseases because the climate change has wiped out a lot of the beneficial bacteria that we used to have in our bodies. Commensals, they’re called. But we’ve never really figured out how they work, so it’s hard to compensate for their disappearance.”

“Okay,” said Dan. “So what can we do for Michael?”

“Keep him comfortable and give it time. Put cold compresses on any area where there’s a rash. Try to get him to eat, lots of small meals if he can’t tolerate a large one. We’re expecting some new medicines from Canada that may relieve the symptoms. Michael’s getting dressed; he’ll be out a few minutes.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Edward Rubin is Professor of Law and Political Science at Vanderbilt University in Nashville. He is the author of ​ an academic book titled​ “Soul, Self, and Society: The New Morality and the Modern State.”
​. ​
”The Heatstroke Line” is his first novel. For more information, see ​his website at www.edwardrubin.com.

The Heatstroke Line: A Cli-Fi Novel
Authored by Edward L Rubin
List Price: $14.95
6″ x 9″ (15.24 x 22.86 cm)
Black & White on Cream paper
228 pages
Sunbury Press, Inc.
ISBN-13: 978-1620066263
ISBN-10: 1620066262
BISAC: Fiction / Science Fiction / Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic

For more information, please see:
http://www.sunburypressstore.com/The-Heatstroke-Line-9781…

Pastor finds meaning in his beloved old oak chair

BEULAH, Colo.Sunbury Press has released Rev. James A. Campbell’s visionary memoir The Chair. Road trip photographs were provided by Vernon J. LaBau.

tc_fcAbout the Book:
Sometimes, one needs a special mentor to find life and its wonder. Sometimes, that mentor is a chair.

The Chair is Pastor James Campbell’s spiritual odyssey that leads us through the night of emptiness and then emerges into the light of compassion, intervention, and redemption.  Through his renovation of a simple chair, reverence for worn out sewing needles in the Japanese celebration of Hari-Kuyo, and reflection upon how stress to the Diamond Willows of Alaska produces works of art, this parable describes Campbell’s own epiphanies during the course of his life travels ministering to the forgotten and broken.

“For members of the helping profession, caregivers, or those looking for meaning in meaningless times, Campbell is a valuable read.   He will guide you, literally and figuratively, out of the ruins of the great dust bowl to a peaceful Colorado valley.  And he will show you how all these things remain part of your soul.” — Steve Schoenmakers, M.S., Superintendent, Retired, Colorado Mental Health Institute at Pueblo.

With warmth and wit, James Campbell explores one of life’s mysteries:  the way ordinary objects acquire meaning in our lives.  In literal and symbolic journeys with him across the country and through the years, his old oak chair becomes a catalyst for new discoveries, comic revelations, daydreams, and finally, of blessing.   He shares his wisdom, borne of rich experience, and leads us to think about what the things we treasure and what they might mean to us. — Margaret M. Barber, Ph.D.  Professor Emeritus of English, Colorado State University-Pueblo.

The Chair is a metaphor, at first puzzling, then intriguing and then a reference to “life.” The book hooked me into experiences of my own life. This was enjoyable, enlightening. I ended the book wanting to know more, unwilling to have to say, “the end.” — Taylor McConnell, Professor Emeritus,  Garrett-Evangelical Seminary

Vernon J. LaBau (left) and Rev. James A. Campbell (right).

Vernon J. LaBau (left) and Rev. James A. Campbell (right).

Excerpt:
A life by that one thing.

How many funerals through the years were planned around that thought? Show me something that is your father, his spirit, distilled into that one thing: a coffee cup, a favorite chair, a fishing rod, a photograph.

Life in that one thing.

For me, that one thing is the old oak chair and that one thing is this story. I wish I had one picture, just one, of when it all began. I doubt the chair, a captain’s chair, would be the center of any photo. Most likely the chair would be in the picture’s corner, out of focus, perhaps cut off in partial disclosure. Still, hopefully, there would be enough of the chair in the photo to witness to its original humbled condition and its overlooked place in the backyard. Overlooked is a good word for forgotten. That is what the old chair was, forgotten in plain sight, overlooked. Its once caned seat was missing the caning and the seat was now a piece of makeshift plywood. Its weathered layers of green, beige, orange, and turquoise paint were peeling like diseased skin.

In fairness, the chair had some utility. The family cat claimed it as a lounge. By knotting the garden hose around its arm, the chair could be posed to point the hose nozzle across the lawn or garden. Looking back, I wish I had had the wisdom to capture such mundane moments with a camera. Photography was my one art. I earned money selling photos of my valley. I knew what was appealing. Yet, I missed what would become a centerpiece of my life.
When that revelation came, it was not a dramatic epiphany, but rather quiet bemusement. It was a joke. Joke can be another word for “dismissed”, as “dismissed” is another word for forgotten.

A joke was how I remember first seeing it through the kitchen window, really seeing it. Even then it was a subtle joke… not a funny grab-the-camera joke, only a reason to pause as pause turns to passing wonder and passing wonder to “what if?” Wouldn’t it be something if, under all that paint, there was still enough integrity of wood to both bear a luster and, if reinforced, to even serve its purpose as a chair?

Christmas was two months off. With no money for gifts, I wondered if, with considerable effort, I might give the old chair a new face, well, as much a new face as the chair would allow. Certainly, I had no idea that the joke of that old chair before me was sacred, as ironic humor sometimes is. That chair was the essence of my calling, my door to the kingdom of God. It was to be the parable of hope with which I would relate and come to bless others. Eventually, the chair became a mentor, as it inspired taking the camera into the sacredness of forgotten places. If only I had thought to take just one picture through the kitchen window.

One October day, 1971, with no one watching, I removed the old chair to the garage of Hugh Reed down in the village. In the two months of the chair’s renovation, not one mention was made in the family that the old chair was gone from the backyard, a true test of the meaning of forgotten.

jcampbellAbout the Author:
Rev. James A. Campbell, D. Min. is a retired clergy living in Beulah Valley, Colorado.  His writings and paintings culminate thirty-nine years of ministry in Iowa and Alaska. Much of the emphasis of his work in Alaska was as Director of Humanitarian Aid to the Russian Far East during the desperate years from 1995-2003. Rev. Campbell is the author of seven books. He spends these years discovering multiple ways of knowing, the wonder unto beauty of each venue of discovery, and the doors that then open to the sacred.

The Chair
Authored by James A. Campbell, Photographs by Vernon J. LaBau
List Price: $19.95
6″ x 9″ (15.24 x 22.86 cm)
Full Color on White paper
82 pages
Sunbury Press, Inc.
ISBN-13: 978-1620064955
ISBN-10: 1620064952
BISAC: Biography & Autobiography / Religious

Coming soon on Kindle
For more information, please see:
http://www.sunburypressstore.com/The-Chair-9781620064955.htm