Erika M Szabo: Author, Artist, Publisher
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The Ancestors' Secrets:
​an alternate history, magical realism, romantic epic fantasy series

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​Erika M Szabo
When my daughter challenged me to write a book when I couldn't find any good stories to read, I started thinking about a story that I would enjoy reading. What if there is a secret society with strict rules and laws exist hidden among us? What if certain members come to possess magical powers? What if those abilities could be used to do good or evil? I’ve never excelled in following rules or formulas, so I discarded the instructions I found on “how to write fiction” books", and I made up my own rules. At first, I started playing with the story just for my own enjoyment, and I thought, writing the swirling ideas in my head was far better than being haunted by them. But then, I kept writing for months, and soon I realized that I never had so much fun doing anything in my life before.

Love, secrets, legends, secret society, time travel, magical powers collide
​in a compelling fantasy trilogy, hailed “Mystical and Unique.”

Available as a two book series

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amazon
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amazon

Audiobooks

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My dear poet friend, Cindy J. Smith, wrote this beautiful poem about the Ancestors' Secrets Trilogy
Visit her blog and read her beautiful poems from the heart:
​​https://cindysvoices.blogspot.com/
ANCESTORS' SECRETS
Ilona's a doctor with a heart of gold
Is she The Chosen One that was foretold?
Ema's mystical art belies her pain
Horrible trauma she survived but scars remain
Bela's called a "mutt", his blood is unpure
Will his loyalty and friendship endure?
Zoltan is looking forward to a fresh start
Hoping to find the love that will complete his heart
Mora is ancient with a heart cold as ice
Inside her evil itself has come to life
Elza knows the truth which she cannot reveal
Unbearable pain keeps the secrets concealed
Date with destiny is in the past
Fate's time is at hand, the dice is cast
© Cindy J. Smith
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paperback
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Ilona resigns to live the simple life of a small-town doctor, but her life goes into a tailspin on her birthday. She finds out she was born into a secretive, ancient clan still hidden among us. She starts to develop unusual powers which she finds exciting as well as frightening. She can slow time and heal with her touch, but how and why?
She struggles to find answers, but those who try to reveal the clan secrets are severely punished.
A menacing man is following her and wants to kill her. Who is he?
More life struggles continue to plague her. After being thrust into a world of clan mysteries, obscure traditions, and beliefs, her life is drastically changing.
She must seek out and stop Mora’s evil plan. Punished by the ancestors long ago, Mora has waited centuries for the chance to reunite with her beloved Joland and to gain power over the Hunor clan. Revenge has kept her alive for over 1600 years.
Ilona must search for the mysterious Destiny Box that holds a message from her Ancestors while she attempts to sort out her feelings for the men in her life.
The spirits of the clan come to Ilona’s aid with answers to the clan’s secrets and the key to helping her maintain her sanity amidst the fear of danger lurking everywhere as she tries to succeed.
She must activate her Chameleon ability and obtain unimaginable powers. The clan Leaders and Elders are worried knowing that she can use her growing powers for absolute good or absolute evil. But they have no choice, they’re powerless against Mora and must place their trust in Ilona.
With the help of the clan’s Time Bender, her journey will take her back in time to when her people lived as nomads, to the castles of the 14th century as they struggle to overcome the obstacles in their path due to the evils of Mora.
Ilona finds her Destiny Box where the ancestors reveal what she must do—but it does not come without cost.
She must ensure the birth of the Chosen Child in the 4th century in order to save the future of the Hunor Clan.
Will Ilona succeed in saving the child? Will she accept her destiny?

Spanish edition

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Scroll the e-reader to read free pages

Short teasers from book 1,  Prelude

Mora

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Mora mumbled on her breath, “That’s right, little girl. Keep writing.” Her prune-like lips curled into a cruel smile. Her castle was well hidden from prying eyes, deep in the woods on the mountainside. Nobody knew about its existence, only Zelda, her trusted servant throughout the centuries.

Mora didn’t allow anyone to see her in her miserable state, old and wrinkled. Her mind control ability helped her to make even Zelda see her in her youthful glory as she knew her so long ago, but she couldn’t completely conceal her body’s present state of old and wrinkled. The image of her old body shown in Zelda’s mind through the youthful picture Mora projected.
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The soft humming of her rotating, air-filled mattress relaxed her and protected her withered body from developing bedsores.
The Royals and Elders were furious when they found out many centuries ago that Joland had shared the gift of eternal life with her and gave her the power to keep her body young. The Elders separated them, but they couldn’t make them mortal again. She has lived so many lifetimes, alone, because Joland was exiled to a timeline in the distant past. As his punishment, he couldn’t move forward in time with her. The Elders succeeded in taking away the ability to rejuvenate her body, which became bones with wasted muscles and shriveled skin. Although her withered body was useless, the power of her mind allowed her to reach the remotest part of the world and beyond.

Ilona

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​I tiptoed into the living room listening to the sounds and pulled the corner of the tapestry aside that was covering the wall by the fireplace. I turned the small flower design on the mantel and when the secret door slowly opened on the wall, I entered the narrow space while the door closed behind me in an instant.

I inched my way through the confining space into a tiny room. Elza always complained about the broom closet being too small, but I knew why. Someone, long ago, divided the closet and turned half of it into a hiding place, or rather a spy room. I touched the small ottoman that occupied most of the space, then sat down and peeked through the slit hidden in the frame of the huge painting hanging in the living room. I had a complete view of the entire room.

As a child, I had spied on countless meetings and gatherings that Mom had forbidden me to join. I sat there for a while, remembering, but then recalled Mom’s words. I looked around and searched every inch of the room but found nothing. I was greatly disappointed. Mom said to look, so there must have been something, perhaps a guide or instructions that she left for me to find. I searched, touched the walls, pushed the ottoman aside and looked under it. I had found nothing, besides dust and my old teddy bear.

I fingered my Turul pendant and the soft horsetail string remembering Midnight. She was a beautiful, black mare with a white, crescent shape patch on her forehead. I closed my eyes and imagined her soft lips caressing my face as she neighed softly.

Suddenly I felt something piercing the side of my neck. The sharp pain made me jump and I let out a muted cry. As I touched the skin, I felt the warm wetness. Alarmed, I looked at my hand and saw smeared blood glistening on my fingertip. I almost fainted when I noticed that my fingers began to glow as if a bright red light turned on from the inside. At the same time, I felt something scurrying from the side of my neck toward my chest. Reaching up, I frantically swept my neck and chest as I jumped up in disgust. Crap! It must have been a bug or a spider. The damned thing bit me! I looked down at my chest and swept my clothes madly, looking for the bug.

A sudden swirling sensation took me by surprise. I grabbed the side of the ottoman to steady myself while everything began to fade around me. Trying to find a focal point to decrease the sudden vertigo, I fixed my eyes on my teddy bear I was still holding. I noticed with escalating alarm that the toy’s button eyes took on a strange red glow. The plastic eyes seemed alive and the intense luminescence kept me frozen. I’m hallucinating, this is not real. I tried to turn away, but I couldn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t even blink. I was scared, never having felt such primal fear before. My heart raced, and my breath came in little puffs as I felt cold beads of sweat on my forehead. Adrenaline flooded my body triggered by a sudden fright, but I was afraid it might have been some poison from the bite, as well.

The strange sensation and hallucination stopped as quickly as it started. My hands felt and looked normal, and I became rational in an instant. I just sat there, feeling obtuse, wondering what had just happened. The entire sensation lasted only seconds, but it frightened me a great deal not knowing what caused it.

Zoltan

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I saw her across the street, the woman I felt I’d been waiting for all my life. They were moving paintings into the art gallery. I knew in an instant that she was the woman who could fulfill all my dreams. I was mesmerized. She looked so elegant and sweet. Her laugh sounded like tiny silver bells, and her smile was as lovely as a fresh spring day. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her while the movers arranged my furniture. She was so graceful when she flipped her long auburn hair, and when she tripped and caught herself on the side of the truck. Obsessed, I watched her from every window, from the sidewalk, any chance I got and was running plans through my mind on how to introduce myself, or just get her attention. I was frantic because I didn’t know if I would get another chance to see her again. I didn’t know if she lived close by or was just visiting.
And then there was a stab through my heart when he kissed her. They looked very happy and comfortable with each other… I wished so bad that I was that blond guy. I didn’t wish for jealousy on the first day of my new life, that was just my luck. I had my pick of beauties, yet I wasn’t fascinated by any of them. Ironically, I fell for someone instantly, who was happy with another guy. I couldn’t get her out of my mind all day.

Ema

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​Ema didn’t let me see her paintings, so, there I stood glued to one spot, staring at the painting the helpers had just placed on the prime wall, close to the front door. The base color was mainly brilliant crimson in swirling shades. The painting depicted a group of shadowy and sketched people who were standing, kneeling and bending over. It made me feel vibrant and filled with energy. In my mind, Rachmaninoff rhythms were running and chasing around a simple little tune denoting turmoil, yet in perfect harmony.
“Wow, you surprise me time and again,” I boasted with pride as I turned to Ema.
“Thanks. I try.” She winked.
“I’m so proud of you.” I hugged her close, a single tear spilling down my cheek.
“Don’t you dare get all sappy on me.” She blushed. “You know I hate this weepy-mushy stuff,” she confessed, looking embarrassed. I dabbed at my eyes and turned away.
“Okay, okay, I’m not sappy. I’m just… I’m proud of you,” I managed.
“Noted with humble thanks,” she returned with another wink.
Carl and two other workers also stood immobile before the painting. As soon as the first shock wore off, they were excited and argued about its impact. “Ema, this is so… Fantastic!” Carl cried out. His eyes were sparkling so much with excitement that I almost saw dollar signs in them. He was a shrewd businessman, after all, and the potential for profit outshone his love of art.
“You haven’t seen the rest.” Ema teased. Carl turned and darted toward the van. He carried the next painting in his own hands - something he rarely did - and tore the cover off with trembling fingers. He inhaled one sharp breath after taking one look and then held the small picture at arm’s length. We grouped around him, as he hung the painting, astonished. Bela clasped my shoulder and squeezed it hard, not even realizing what he was doing. The painting had been small yet powerful. It was a bouquet of flowers, as close to being real as possible, painted in different shades of blue. Toward the focal point, the colors became lighter and lighter, bursting into one tiny speck of white in the middle of the flower head with flowing petals around it. A melody popped into my mind.
“Debussy,” I said out loud.
“Mozart.” I heard someone behind me.

Elza

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Ema gave me a lot to think about, as well. I still didn’t know how to keep her in the protective circle. She wanted to leave, and I knew I couldn’t let her. The Elders were not to discover - ever - that she existed. When we got back from the hospital, I was surprised by her reaction. I’d talked her into going to the ER where they were supposed to meet. It was a simple plan, and to make sure it would happen, I told Rua to send the dreams. He was very reluctant at first, saying the dreams had a higher purpose and we shouldn’t use them for solving petty and personal problems. It took some pushing and convincing on my part before he agreed, and I was so anxious to see them after the dreams were sent. I had a gut feeling that something was wrong when I saw no hint of recognition on Ema’s face while there was disbelief and shock on Zoltan’s when he saw Ema. I tried to figure out what had gone wrong. Ema wasn’t interested at all, yet Ilona and Zoltan had shown the signs of inner connection as they gazed at each other - it was very puzzling. I thought it over when we got back from the hospital, and Ema retreated into her studio.

The dreams are very powerful, why didn’t they respond to them? For everything that is sweet and holy, please… NO! I felt as if a bomb had dropped on me. I rushed out of the house and found Rua the Dream Weaver in the back, pruning the apple trees. “Rua, you’re an idiot and an incompetent fool.” I watched his mortified face as I called him names.
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“What, what did I do?” he stammered in humiliation. He placed his weight on his good leg and stood up tall.
“Seriously. Are you the one asking me? You were supposed to send the dream to Ema, but it appears that Ilona got it instead. Ema was supposed to fall in love with Zoltan the Traveler in her dream, and then meet him at the hospital. I suspect Ema never had the dream, but Ilona did, and she’s the one falling for him. Zoltan looked at Ema - whom he was supposed to fall in love with - as if she was his little sister. But he looked at Ilona as if he had found his life mate. That’s what happened, and that’s what you did wrong, you dumb idiot,” I shouted.

Bela

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Bela left his car in the driveway. He fumbled with his key while kissing her and trying to open the front door at the same time. Finally, he got the door opened, and as they tumbled toward the bedroom, they started undressing each other. By the time they reached the bed discarded clothes had littered the floor. His smooth hands caressed her belly moving down to her thighs.  He began kissing her neck, and then his roaming lips started planting little kisses on her breasts.
His hot breath on her skin sent her body to ecstasy, but then he whispered, “Ilona.”
Barbara felt as if a bucket of ice had been poured over her body as she pushed him away, “What did you just call me?”
Bela reached out for her, “I’m so sorry!”
She jumped off the bed and started collecting her clothes, sobbing, “I thought I meant something to you, but obviously, it was a mistake. I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life!”
“I’m so sorry, Barbara, really.”
“Is that all you can say?”
“I feel so bad, let me try to make it up to you.”
“Never mind, you killed the mood already.” Dressing quickly, she hurried out of the room without looking back and slammed the door behind her.
Bela pulled the cover up to his chin, rolled on his side and slipped into his fantasy world where he could hold Ilona in his arms.

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Praises

​“I loved the enchanted mystery of the story and how the author was able to capture my attention”
“It’s a great story told from a unique perspective. It didn’t feel like the same old same old”
“Historic fantasy involving ancient traditions and down-to-earth characters of our own world”
“I was enthralled with the complexity and attention to detail”
“This story to truly capture the magical essence of the Hun tradition and the beauty of their rituals”
“Written in a diary-kind format, the different characters tell the a beautiful story”
“It is so original and well written it had me hooked from the start”
“The first sentences grabbed my fascination, and the easy flow of the entire book continually held my interest and curiosity”
“She meets a handsome doctor who seems to be accompanied by an evil presence that she cannot comprehend”
“Thank you Erika, you gave my heart and dreams an immense gif”
“My favorite part was the description of Ema's paintings! What a wonderful idea!”
“I also loved the inner turmoil she had trying figure out her feeling she was having about her best friend and the new handsome man who entered her life”
“I couldn't help but think that there was something not very savory about Zoltan (gosh! I love his name!). I ended up rooting for Bela”
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Erika M Szabo: author of fiction novels and children's books, publisher and artist.

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Copyright author Erika M Szabo, 2012 Read the privacy policy and disclaimer HERE If you find a picture and you recognize it as your own and not a public domain photo, please let us know ​CONTACT
  • HOME
    • PRESS RELEASE
    • VIDEOS
    • Photos
    • Privacy policy
    • Paying it Forward
    • DONATE
  • CONTACT
  • ABOUT ME
    • PORTFOLIO
    • THERE
  • NATURAL HEALING
    • ASTHMA
    • BIZARRE SYMPTOMS
    • Natural Skin Care
    • Healing crystals
    • Natural remedies
    • Aromatherapy
    • Pets and Fleas
    • Detox Your Body Naturally
    • HIGH CHOLESTEROL
    • Természetgyógyászat
  • READING ROOM
    • IMAGINATION
    • Magyar Könyvek
    • BOOKS on AMAZON
    • Read With Lucy
    • READ for ANIMALS
  • PUBLISHING
    • EDITING
    • Book Promotion
    • Book Formatting
    • ILLUSTRATION
    • Book Cover Art
    • Publishing Coach
  • My Thinking Board
    • Just For Fun
    • WRITING ESSENTIALS
    • THIS-n-THAT
    • Fun Shop
    • My bragging post
    • JUST FOR FUN
  • CHILDREN'S BOOKS
    • The Chunky, Dumpy, Spunky Monkey
    • A Basketful of Kittens
    • Who Stole Terry's Music Box?
    • Pico, the Pesky Parrot
    • Terry and the Number Fairy
    • Look, I Can Talk With My Fingers
    • My Book-My Stories
    • Me Too
    • Creepy Hollow Adventures
    • The Haunted Bakery
    • Mira, ¡puedo hablar con los dedos!
  • FICTION NOVELS
    • The Ancestors' Secrets
    • OMEN
    • The Curse
    • Rainbows and Couds
    • LIBROS ESPANOLES
    • Book Reviews
    • Book Characters
  • 7 COZY SHORTS
    • Alone
    • Fake It
    • The Ghost of Prince Akhmose
    • Messenger
    • The Potion
    • Bittersweet Memories
    • The Worthless Painting
  • AUDIOBOOKS
  • LIBRARY
  • ART
  • BOOKS