Grandmothers by Kelley Grant, author of The Obsidian Temple


Title: The Obsidian Temple
Author: Kelley Grant
Publisher: Harper Voyager Impulse
Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy
Format: Kindle 

After a harrowing escape to the desert, Sulis Hasifel finds her calling is not yet fulfilled. Traveling to the Obsidian Temple—the site of an ancient divine battle—Sulis is tasked with mentoring Ava, a young girl with a troubled past. Together, they join a group of magically gifted warriors to re-make the very fabric of the universe. But the fate of the world hinges on whether Ava can harness her power, and some trials cannot be overcome.

 Returning to Illian, Sulis's twin Kadar finds that his lover, Farrah, has abandoned their newborn daughter for the revolutionary cause. Not willing to give up his dream of a family, Kadar vows to stay by Farrah's side. But when he finds that Farrah is willing to anger the gods to aid the Forsaken caste's uprising, and as she steps farther down a violent and dark path, Kadar must decide if he will help her…or let the world spin out of control.

 In this mesmerizing sequel to Desert Rising, Kelley Grant brings us back to the cities of Illian and Shpeth, drawing her epic fantasy tale closer to the trilogy's stunning conclusion.

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Grandmothers.

People usually want to know if my characters are based on real life people. I don’t do so intentionally – but characters are often influenced by my role models. In the Obsidian Temple, we finally meet the most influential person in Sulis and Kadar’s life – their desert priestess grandmother.

No one knew exactly how old Grandmother Hasifel was. Sulis wasn’t even certain of her first name—everyone just called her Grandmother Hasifel (or “your grandmother” if they were talking to the twins). Her spare, tall frame was still upright as a stick, but Sulis had seen Grandmother twist herself into impossible shapes while in moving meditation. Her skin was a burnished copper, her high cheekbones speckled with age spots and wrinkles. She radiated a restless energy, as though there was a raging river just barely contained under a thin layer of humanity. Her salt-and-pepper hair was oiled and pulled back in a tight bun now, but Sulis had seen it wild in an aura when Grandmother danced with the moon.

Grandmother Hasifel combines the strengths of both of my own Grandmothers. My paternal Grandmother was a slight, delicate-looking lady. She baked cookies, made us sweets and had a spine of steel. She was born in West Virginia and learned to care for herself and her father after her mother died. She held her own family together through poverty and strife. When she was in her late 80s she was still delivering meals and sermon tapes to the “poor shut-ins” who were usually about a decade younger than her. Like Sulis’s grandmother she was devout in her faith and did not waiver from the path of truth. She taught me the strength of loyalty, the enduring bonds of family and the value of hard work.

“How you find your path forward from pain and disappointment is a choice, not an inevitability. Living life without hesitation after failure is a choice. Loving after betrayal is a choice. Forgiving, even forgiving yourself, is a choice. It’s not an easy choice; no life changes are. A choice, nonetheless. Choose or be what you fear.”

Those words, spoken to Sulis by Grandmother Hasifel, could be words my maternal grandmother used. She was outspoken in her beliefs, and she did not hesitate to let her family know if they had veered off course. She loved her family and friends fiercely, but with clear eyes. I learned from her the value of speaking up and allowing my voice to be heard. I inherited her stubbornness and ability to stand up for what is right, even if it isn’t popular.


Writing the relationship between Sulis and her grandmother in The Obsidian Temple was a joy to me.  Creating the tension of a wise, but stubborn grandmother having to accept her headstrong granddaughter as an individual and an adult was a tribute to my own grandmothers. Both of my grandmothers are gone now, but they live on in the wisdom they shared and the love the spread to everyone in their lives.  

Kelley Grant grew up in the hills of Ohio’s Amish country. Her best friends were the books she read, stories she created and the forest and fields that inspired her. She and her husband live on a wooded hilltop and are owned by five cats, a dog and numerous uninvited critters. Besides writing, Kelley teaches yoga and meditation, sings kirtan with her husband, and designs brochures and media.

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