SLAVES TO THE MOON BOOK 1 : DENYING BRADY

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🌹UPCOMING BOOK PREVIEW1🌹


BOOK TITLE: [still yet to be named, but keep your eyes out on my wall.]

STATUS: COMING JANUARY 2020.

TAGS: bxb,mxm, dystopian fiction, gay romance, diverse lit, gay lit, new adult, young-adult, mature,

DESCRIPTION: The year is 2693 and the world lives in a division based on race. On one end is the mixed race-anyone with two or more races in their blood. They face oppression based on blood from purebloods, who dictate the structure and enforce the laws.

Pure Bloods consider anyone with mixed blood to be filthy, cursed, unnatural and to keep them in their places many years ago after an unnamed disease clinically named XY plagued the human race, with a patient zero of mixed blood strict laws, were enforced by a group of purebloods to be the keepers of the human race.

Many years as a direct result of the pact, laws were put in place everywhere to create order. Laws like:

-No fraternizing outside of your race.

-No teaching outside of the syllabus.

-No speaking ill of the government.

-No mixed-race person is allowed in certain areas of the streets, clinics or social establishments.

The year is 2693 when the youth revolts against this oppression.

In the midst of political punchlines and wars, two boys outside of each other’s races fall in love.

But will they ever act on their feelings or will their differences seal the bridge between them? Especially given the fact that Lewis Kaplan is a pureblood who is set to Commence into the world shielded by his family’s legacy in the government.

And Zhavia Yorush pronounced Jor-via Your-rush is a revolutionist from humble beginnings with four-six races streaming in his blood. Thereby is considered everything wrong in society.


INCERPT:

Lewis Kaplan age 6|

The look on my father’s face wasn’t a look I had ever seen him wear before and on that night I remember pledging to myself almost as hard as I pledged the National pledge that I would never make him look at me like that. Like how he was looking at my older sister Elaine.

My father’s full thick brows were knitted together tightly, his eyes glazed with fierce hot anger, his face was in a scowl as he chased Elaine’s boyfriend out of our house. His voice boomed with so much anger and disgust directed at her.

I didn’t completely understand but at the same time, I didn’t blame him after all Elaine had disrespected our father and our forefathers when she had brought her boyfriend in our house. His skin was caramel it neither paled too white nor did it tan too red. His hair was tightly coiled in rough ringlets of raven hair and his accent was thick with an Asian dialect.

Elaine knew better than to fraternize with his kind.

I don’t remember much of the night; much of the words yelled back and forth my parents versus my rebellious teenaged sister in anger. But I remember this.

I followed her to her bedroom when I needed her to read me a bedtime story, I found her curled in a fetus position, mascara running down her eyes, chunks of her ash blonde hair scattered all over the floor. She had given herself a head shave and she looked so strange, she was acting so strange. “Elly are you ok?” I worried.

She lifted me to sleep beside her, she sniffed me like she always did-I had always liked that.

“I should be. I’m in love my prince,” she replied wistfully.

“With the Keffa?” I chortled with surprise, anyone would’ve been.

She flipped me around, got off the bed and knelt before me my chin in her delicate cold hand “You can’t use that word, it’s rude, it’s wrong, it’s damn offending.” her voice lowered in a soft frustration “It’s wrong Lewis. I don’t care what father says or what your teacher says don’t ever use that word. It’s not right!” her voice broke with stifled emotion and her hand was trembling under my chin with what I now understand to have been a desperate need to educate me.

“But that’s what he is Elly, your boyfriend is a Keffa,” I repeated what I knew, his skin, his hair and even his thick dispersedly placed accent. He was a mixed blood, therefore a Keffa.

Elaine picked me up and cradled me in her lap, wet tears landed on my skin and for a long while she couldn’t speak through her sobs.

Eventually, she pulled herself together and said “No my boyfriend is multiracial and he loves me more than I love him, which is the best thing that can happen to a girl.” she paused tilting my chin so I would meet her tormented silver drenched gaze “You start primary school tomorrow. In each stream, they enrol only five mixed bloods. Promise me you will not use that dreadful word to refer to them...No matter who else in your class or school uses it...Pretty please my prince?”

I was six years old, it’s a wonder I still have this memory and I’m grateful that I have it almost as much as I hate that I remember it because I remember my response to her was not very nice and maybe if it were kinder Elaine would still be here.

“If it’s so wrong then why does the government say it? The government is always right just like dad. Dad says it all the time you never stop him so why should you stop me from saying it? A keffa is a keffa. And you should stay away from keffas they are all dirty and sick.”

The next day in school, we were introduced to our teachers, our prefects and of course the Keffas were led in into class. We only hand one keffa in ours but by break time a rumour had reached my ears that one of the Keffas had already gotten expelled for fighting.

It was just like my father and his friends had predicted.

At lunchtime, I lined up at the school kiosk to buy fried chicken, but as it turned out it had gone up in price and I was a quarter short. “Give him, I’ll cover the difference along with three separate boxes. Sir” a voice said behind me before the shopkeeper served me my box.

“Thank you,” I said to the boy behind me. He was my skinny but my height with caramel skin, golden eyes, the kindest wide smile and tight brown curls that softened at the ends. He looked kind too, “You are nice, for a Keffa.” I complimented around a grateful smile.

His smile fell and instantly two other Keffas spoke to him “Ignore him, they are all like that.“, “God is testing us,” they said to him receiving their boxes and walking away from me without even a second look.

I was only six years old, but my heart broke a little for the first time.

And I didn’t know it then, but that was the least of it.


reminder: This book, hasn’t been named yet nor has a cover been made for it yet let alone be posted. But it’s sitting pretty in my drafts. Going through a special writing and editing process. It will be available January of 2020. In the meantime flip for more book previews and please check out my other work all available for free on my profile on WATTPAD.

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