Read an excerpt from If The Sun Spares Us by Brenda Marie Smith #PostApocalyptic #Thriller @bsmithnovelist @GoddessFish

If The Sun Spares Us
By Brenda Marie Smith

Two years ago, a solar pulse destroyed modern life. Bea Crenshaw organized her starving, suburban neighbors into a farming community. But now Bea’s gone, and her grandchildren must carry her legacy forward.

In the post-apocalyptic pressure cooker of Austin, Texas, 19-year-old Keno and his younger cousins struggle to ensure their community’s survival even as they’re forced to relocate to safer grounds. Northern Lights that don’t belong this far south grow increasingly intense, making Keno fear what harm the sun will cause next.

Even worse, a marauding militia called the Raiders is closing in, led by a deranged woman who preys on teenage boys. Despite Keno’s debilitating flashbacks from a firefight, he and his wife have a new baby to protect. Though Bea is dead, her spirit desperately searches for ways to shield her grandkids. When Raiders target two neighborhood members, the only hope lies in the community’s strength, Keno’s ingenuity, and the family’s fierce love for one another.

Genre:  Post-apocalyptic thriller
Pages: 364

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EXCERPT

I’m half-starved, about to drop in my tracks, and emotional pain is clawing me up inside. Living through this apocalypse, I don’t know if it’s the deprivation or the heartache that will kill me first. 

I think I’ve been scouting South Central Austin for a place to move my family and neighbors for about two weeks, but I’ve lost track of time, and I’m not finding a freaking thing. We have to move; we just have to. I was hoping to find a place with walls and water, but no such luck. 

It’s dusk when I come upon a row of warehouses, looking for a spot to sleep. Most warehouse doors are bent, with the jambs and locks broken. All looted inside, messes that don’t look like they have anything worth scavenging. One door has a big hasp and a bigger lock intact. Maybe I’ll break it in the morning to see if I can find some food. 

A few doors down, there’s a stairwell leading to a basement door. A good place to hide where I have an escape route. I duck down into it. 

“We’re so screwed,” I grumble to myself as I lean my rifle on the stairwell and slide off my backpack.

“You got that right.”

F***. Who said that? I whip my face around, my hand on the pistol behind my back.

“I wouldn’t fire that if I were you.”

A face looms above me… behind a crossbow that’s aimed at my head. I throw up my hands.

“Don’t shoot!”

BRENDA MARIE SMITH is attracted to stories where everyday characters transcend their limitations to find their inner heroism. She lived off the grid for years in a farming collective where her sons were delivered by midwives. A lifelong community activist, Brenda has managed student co-op housing, produced concerts, and raised a small herd of boys. She and her husband live in Kyle, Texas. They have more grown kids and grandkids than they can count. 

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