From the Author
A former victim
of extreme domestic violence as a young woman; spent twelve years obtaining academic
secondary and post secondary education and experience in psychology, sociology,
behavioral science and domestic violence, mental health and drug addiction
dynamics; Former Domestic Violence Professional Trainer.
Out of the Maelstrom
is the third volume of The Torn Trilogy; nonfiction literary narrative,
domestic violence. The Torn Trilogy (1084 pgs.) is a sixteen year long writing
project that has slowly become a lifelong mission.
Torn Trilogy includes Torn From the Inside Out, The Journey and Out of the
Maelstrom, each of which is a variation of focus upon the theme of domestic
violence, domestic abuse and family dysfunction told in a literary voice, using
the driving passion of painful firsthand experience. The dominant tone
does not feature a 'poor me' mentality, but features the global and universal
truth of "the power of the human spirit under fire", a testament to
the power of human resilience.
The Journey, continues the unforgettable story of the 'children of Torn'
and their desperate struggles for survival as they fight to overcome
traumatic burdens placed upon them by an unfair childhood , in effect, having
to slay the 'three-headed monster'
From the Inside Flap
Out of the Maelstrom Excerpt From Prologue
"I applied to work for this agency because I felt that I belonged there, It was where my heart was. I wanted to help people who had hurt like I hurt and felt trapped like I had. I wanted to empower those who felt they were powerless and give courage to the broken hearted. My comrades in this mission were all there with me, we all wanted the same things for similar reasons and we would share a rich and grand experience working together, an adventure that needed telling, a soulful potion that needs sharing...in the journey of this new life" Sara Niles
Excerpt From Out of the Maelstrom (Chapter One)
"He was dead, alright. The sight of death is an ugly and fearsome thing, I thought, as I absorbed the sight in front of me. It was a man...'The man' , laying in the road with blackish- red blood pooled around his head, as he lay face down with his feet in his own yard while his head and shoulders were planted in the street, like a killed animal felled in its tracks by a hunter. By the time I arrived, crime scene tape was strapped around the trees, blue and red lights flashing out of sync warning surges from the tops of police cars and through the windshields of undercover detective vehicles, while the ambulance was parked askew with the neat, uniformed workers eerily standing almost idly by, in no apparent rush to save the life of the already dead man."