The Power Vested In Me Book 1 The Gatherers A J KING
Copyright 2o15 0 AJ KING All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. Trademarked names appear throughout this book Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner's trademark The information in this book is distributed on an "as is" basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedicated to My wonderful children Calon and Lorien - my heart and my soul Billie Jean King - if you hadn't been you I wouldn't be me You the reader - thank you for joining me on this journey
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1 Twinkle Twinkle Chapter 2 Starkey Chapter 3 Personal Development
Introduction Truth be known our story actually begins thirteen years ago in the maternity ward of St Uriel's Hospital in London. If the old building could speak, it would have said that it had survived two world wars and had seen everything there was to see. But it would have been very wrong. The clock crept slowly towards midnight, the time that the most superstitious amongst us would call the witching hour. A full moon shone above the hospital and a welcoming amber glow emanated from the front entrance. It had been here, earlier in the day, that stressed fathers-to-be had arrived with their very expectant wives, and where some heavily pregnant women had gathered to poison their unborn babies with nicotine. But now the door was closed. There was no one coming in or going out.
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