Shiva XIV by Lyra Shanti
My childhood was a non-religious one. The extent of my religious knowledge is this: Monks make good beer, Catholic priests drive Mercedes and evangelists…quite frankly scare the hell out of me.
I didn’t have a Billy Ray growing up like Aretha Franklin. “The only boy who could ever teach me, was the son of a preacher man. Yes he was, he was, ooh, yes he was.” Ooh Aretha you naughty girl.
If I had a Bill Ray to teach me (or stealin’ kisses from me on the sly) I might have spent my childhood searching for salvation rather than flirting with damnation.
When Albert Einstein said: “Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind” he was predicting the future and a book called Shiva XIV by Lyra Shanti.
This book was so good; I suggest you skip to the ending. What? You heard me. It’s called a glossary and it holds the key to the galaxy. Ahem…what? Galaxy? Not ahem – Un-Ahm. Now back to page one.
In a galaxy far, far away lives Ayn. Ayn’s innocence and kind heart could turn even Darth Vader into father of the year. I just wanted to take him in my arms and hold him and tell him that everything is okay and that I will protect him and feed him tacos. Amen. Ahem…sorry about that but Ayn is written with such an emotional elegance that if you don’t feel the need to feed the boy a taco, then you are a heartless, helpless soul.
Ayn’s love is pure and simple. His loyalty to his home, his family of priests and teachers and his religious beliefs is Jedi strong. But like every young Padawan knows, never underestimate the power of the dark side and Shiva XIV has its share of black with a splash of red.
Ayn’s life is a roller coaster of emotions and Lyra Shanti forces you to ride. Your sensory neurons held hostage by her words. Readers looking to score some action will get their share on this roller coaster of religion, sex, love, war and death. Twisting and turning through the character driven ride with your heart and head swirling with feelings of elation and sometimes begging for the light at the end of the tunnel.
This is a “hey I know that guy” type of book. Meddhi-Lan was the father I never had, Baran was the guy I dated in college, Reese was the girl who stole Baran from me – that type of book. Lyra Shanti is a “let me show you my heart” type of author. She pours it on to the page, spilling it freely and openly from a cup filled with artistic originality.
Shiva XIV is proof that good things can come from bleeding hearts – unless the bleeding is a result of a plasma-gun. That shit hurts.
Buy this book at Amazon.