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Welcome to The Wormhole and my stop on the tour.
It is my pleasure to spotlight:
Braxton Cosby and School of Ministry.
About the
Author:
A graduate of the University of Miami, Cosby earned his bachelors,
masters and doctorate in physical therapy. He also is certified by the American
Physical Therapists and is a Certified Sports Nutritionist.
And now he’s
getting you in shape. “I feel that God has given me a calling to help people,”
said Cosby. It was through his own injury that taught Cosby about “getting
people back to their prior level of function.” He said he want to motivate
“people to stay on the course” so they can meet their own individual goals.
Cosby is a personal
trainer, nutritionist and physical therapist and is using his talents and
knowledge to help bring attention to the health issues and disparities such as
heart disease, diabetes and high blood pressure.
He was the featured
keynote speaker at the 2012 Atlanta CARES STEMFest for Children and Young
Adults event. He also was a presenter for Mercer College School of Medicine and
the Louisiana Medical Society’s Focus
on Exercise and
Fitness. He has partnered with Emory University
as a clinical instructor and worked with a major rehabilitation company in
geriatrics.
The host of a
weekly radio show – Ask the Fat Doctors, Cosby also is an award-winning author
and has been seen on CBS, Fox and Atlanta Live. He’s teamed up with retired
offensive lineman and NFL analyst Jamie Dukes to create a workout video for men
called Chachersize (C_4).
Ask the Fat Doctors
is where Cosby, Dukes and radio personality Tee Foxx where they cover a variety
of topics from current events to obesity to disease prevention. Cosby also
shares tips on how to lose pounds.
Cosby’s goal is to share information on how to create
healthy habits and how they can counteract serious health ailments. His
articles can be found in “OMTimes Magazine” and “Skinny Limits”. Cosby also
posted regular workout tips on his YouTube page.
As the nephew of
actor and comedian Bill Cosby, Dr. Braxton A. Cosby has charted his own path,
but embodies his uncle’s creativity and vision for a healthier America. “Of
course” he was an influence, the younger Cosby said. “He taught me how to
develop a passion for what you do.”
And Dr. Braxton A.
Cosby has a passion for fitness
@Cosbykid_fatdoc
The School of Ministry
The Windgate
Book 1
Braxton A Cosby
Genre: YA Paranormal
Publisher: Keith Publications
Number of pages: 367
Word Count: 114K
Book Description:
TO CHOOSE, IS FATE!
A young man named
Ziv struggles to find his place in life after both of his parents are murdered.
Orphaned and alone by the age of six, he bounces in and out of foster homes
hopeless and afraid, wondering if he will ever find a path to happiness. He
resolves to accept a life of depravity, until one day he discovers he possesses
the gift of sight: to see creatures from the afterlife, but not
angels...demons!
Ziv is recruited by
The School of Ministry, a secret society that promises to help him find his
best friend Stephanie, who has gone missing. But there is one catch: he must
agree to join them in their quest to eradicate evil and protect the weak. Ziv
learns that he is a "Conduit," which allows him to cross over into
the spirit world and transcend time itself.
When he is
partnered with two other young men who have similar gifts, the unlikely trio is
trained in the mastery of weapons and the art of Shouting, during treacherous
challenges of the tortuous Quad in preparation for their mission: to secure the
Windgate. Ziv becomes entrenched in a quest of identity, love, and will, until he
comes face to face with pure evil itself--Akabod, the spiritual prodigal son to
the School of Ministry and a master of talents.
Excerpt:
It's Miss Evans!
I approach the tank and
investigate it, looking for signs of movement from Miss Evans. She floats
lifelessly in the water. Her hair flows, carried by the waves and her face
appears angelic. I notice the softness of her eyelids and the elegant curve of
her mouth as she floats. But the beautiful view is interrupted by a dramatic
jolt of her body as her eyes open and a cluster of bubbles escape her mouth and
nose. She stares at me and thrashes, eyes bloodshot as she slaps at the glass.
I gaze back at her powerless, examining the tank for locks or levers; some way
to release her from the watery prison.
I'm helpless as she
continues to struggle for air. Then, an image flickers from the corner of my
eye as a side door opens and Maxwell walks out, holding a staff of his own.
"Maxwell," I
plead. "It's Miss Evans. Please help her!"
He shakes his head and
lifts his staff in his hands, twirling it in a circle as he begins to slowly
walk sideways, circling me like a predator, encasing me in a hedge of danger.
"Hold your ground. Make
a choice: fight or flight," Maxwell bellows.
Miss Evans' banging on
the glass behind me blends with the pounding of my heart. I lift my staff and
spread my feet, turning my attention to Maxwell. As much as I'm afraid for my
own safety, I find it impossible not to focus on Miss Evans. Her muffled scream
comes from the tank and I look away from Maxwell to check on her. Her hands
clutch her neck. Her face is bright red with a tinge of blue around her lips.
"No," I scream,
stepping back away from the tank.
Raising my staff above my
head, I crank back and rip it down, slamming it into the side of the tank, as I
yell. The water explodes from the crack in the tank and glass shards crash to
the floor below. I swing once more and this time the entire tank shatters,
launching Miss Evans into the air toward me. I catch her in my arms and the
force of the water propels us backward onto the floor. She coughs, gasping for
air. I hold her in my arms and caress her head. Her sobbing brittles me and I'm
relieved to see her skin color returning to its natural tanned shade.
We're here, an odd place,
an unfamiliar place. But as I hold her delicately in my arms, it makes me feel
like I'm heading back home. Not the place where I live now, but the place where
I used to live, when mom and dad were still alive. The way she rests in my arms
beckons me to a time when I used to hold my kitten, Priceless. She'd climb into
my lap during the thunder storms. I was her comforter. Priceless would purr
when I did it. And now, so many years later, I find myself feeling the same way
as I hold Miss Evans. Her soft body pressing into my skin—warming me—calls me
to hug her even closer with each passing second. The times when I needed
someone to hold me reflect in my mind like a mirror as I stare at her. Her
chest rises as her heart beat quickens, mixing evenly with her breaths. As
warmth returns to her body, a subtle tremor comes over her; like a purr.
I can't resist. I have to
do it. I must do it. I hug deeply, ignoring the senseless urge to pull away.
"Bravo!"
praises Maxwell, exiting the room as the lights come back on.
Miss Evans resting in my
arms and I comfort her, caressing her hair. She finally looks up at me and
mouths, "Thank you."
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