Only one day left! 🚀 This is your last chance to preorder Waking Up before the official launch tomorrow!
Preordering today not only guarantees you the special launch price — it also helps boost the book’s visibility when it goes live. Every early order makes a real difference! 🙏✨
To celebrate how close we are, I’m sharing a powerful moment from Chapter 7. Greenhouse, where Benjamin Michaels faces the breathtaking transformation of a world he no longer recognizes… and begins to wonder if he still has a place in it.
Here’s today’s excerpt:
7. Greenhouse
Benjamin Michaels staggered into what he once knew as his office—a place where deals had been struck, fortunes amassed, and empires expanded. Now, his sanctuary of power and influence had been transformed beyond recognition.
The smell hit him first. Damp earth, the faint sweetness of blooming flowers, and a sharp tang of citrus filled the air. The sterile, corporate atmosphere he had once cultivated was gone, replaced by something warm, organic, and… alive. He looked up, and sunlight filtered through glass panes high above, bathing everything in a soft, golden hue.
Rows of lush greenery surrounded him. Papaya trees stretched toward the ceiling, their vibrant fruits hanging like ornaments. Vines crawled along the walls, their tendrils weaving intricate patterns. Brightly colored flowers he couldn’t name formed splashes of red, yellow, and violet amidst the green. Water trickled softly somewhere, its sound blending with the rustling of leaves.
Ben stood frozen, his heart pounding in disbelief. His old desk—the mahogany monstrosity that had once been the centerpiece of the room—was gone. In its place stood a simple table made of polished bamboo, its surface adorned with a cluster of small potted plants and a little box projecting some kind of holographic data feed.
He stumbled forward, brushing against a vine. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
A voice answered from behind him. “It’s a community greenhouse now.”
Ben spun around. A man in his late forties stood there, his face weathered but kind, dressed in a loose shirt and pants that looked as if they’d been designed for practicality over fashion. He carried a small watering can in one hand and a pair of gardening shears in the other.
“Who are you?” Ben asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
“Daniel,” the man replied, setting down the watering can. “I’m part of the team that maintains this place. It’s a community effort.”
“A community effort?” Ben repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. He turned back to the plants, his gaze falling on a papaya tree. “This was my office,” he said, his voice trembling. “And my daughter’s inheritance…”
Daniel was quiet for a moment, then spoke gently.
“It still is, in a way. Just… not the way you imagined.”
He gestured around them, to the trees, the vines, the soft trickle of water.
“She inherits this too. All of us do. The whole planet. It’s not about property anymore. It’s about shared stewardship. No one owns it — we belong to it. To the planet.”
We’ve read about you. Benjamin Michaels, right?”
Ben nodded numbly.
“You’re part of history,” Daniel continued. “What you built… it helped pave the way for the systems we have now. The world changed. It had to. The way things were… it wasn’t sustainable.”
“So you tore it all down?” Ben snapped, gesturing wildly at the greenery. “Turned it into this… this jungle?”
Daniel’s expression didn’t waver. “We didn’t tear it down. We grew something new. Something sustainable. Everyone here shares in the work, and the harvest. It’s a place of abundance and sharing, not competition and hoarding.”
Ben felt a lump rise in his throat. His legs wobbled, and he sank into a nearby bench—a simple, sturdy thing made of reclaimed wood. He buried his face in his hands, trying to steady his breathing.
The memories came flooding back: the deals closed in this very room, the laughter of his team as they celebrated their successes, the nights he’d spent alone, plotting his next move. And now… now it was all gone.
“I don’t belong here,” he whispered devastated, more to himself than to Daniel.
Daniel didn’t sit down but stood nearby, giving Ben space but staying close enough to be a quiet presence. “It must be hard,” he said gently. “Waking up in a world that feels so different. But you’re here now. Maybe that means you have a part to play in it. Here, have some papaya, they’re just ripe” he said, handing Ben a plate with orange papaya cubes and a fork.
Ben looked up at him, his eyes glistening. He wanted to argue, to tell Daniel he was wrong. But deep down, he knew the man was right. He was here. For better or worse, this was the world he had woken up to. And as much as it terrified him, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder what his place in it might be. The papaya tasted good, hungry as he was.
For now, though, the only thing he could do was sit and eat papaya, try to breathe, and wonder… What had the rest of the world come to..?
History is made by those who dare to dream. Preorder Waking Up today — tomorrow, a new world awakens. 🚀🌍
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