Enter a New World full of Bravery and Danger

It’s finally here!! My birthday present this year is the release of Dragon’s Revenge, book 3 in the Dragon Courage series. I am so excited to present to you this addition to the series. In book 1 we followed Ruskya and Duskya as they brought a future to their dragon colony. We met a young boy by the name of Braidyn and Ruskya’s youngling, Kyn. In book 2 Braidyn had grown up and needed to find his way in the world. He travels after eggnappers and finds the El’Shad’n, a nomadic dragon colony. In the process he learns about his dragon’s history and finds a place where he belongs. Book 3 takes Kyn, now grown up, on a journey.

The book starts at Braidyn’s wedding. Kyn then travels across the inland sea to the town of Oreya where he meets up with Ben’hyamene. The two of them meet a rider from a land to the west called the Carr. Ben’hyamene and Kyn struggle with culture shock as they try to comprehend wild dragons! In the process, they discover a war between dragons and humans has been waging for over four hundred years! To bring peace to the land, both humans and dragons will have to put aside revenge.

“I enjoyed the previous two books in the series, but I LOVED this one.” ~Goodreads 5 Star Review for Dragon’s Revenge

 

To celebrate I will be hosting a live Q&A on my Facebook page this Saturday, April 9 from 1:30-2:30 Pacific/4:30-5:30 Eastern. We’ll have giveaways of fun things like travel mugs, coffee/tea mugs, and of course signed copies of the books!

Dragon’s Revenge is full of tea, friends, dragons, and adventure. Check it out now on Amazon or Barnes & Noble. (iTunes coming soon.)

 

A Unique Look at Holy Week part 7

Last week, we began the story of Achim. We’ve followed his path to Caiaphas’ house, Pilate and Herod, and back to Pilate. Each step of the way, we’ve learned a bit more about him and about that first Holy Week. Today, we have the final installment.

The last several days had been a blur for Achim. After the hours spent at the foot of the cross and watching as Yeshua breathed his last breath, Yochanan had escorted Achim along with Mariam and the other women back to what he called the “upper room”. From what Achim could gather it was where Yeshua had held the seder. Achim learned a woman by the name of Mary owned the home. He never could figure out how many people actually stayed there. The men used the upper room while the women stayed somewhere downstairs. Yochanan had showed Achim to a mat, and the boy had gratefully collapsed on to it. On the first day of the week, Achim awoke to shouts.

“Yochanan! Shimon!” a woman’s voice called. “Come quickly! They have taken the rabbi!”

“What?” Shimon shouted. “I’ll kill them, every one of them!”

Shimon took off running toward the tomb. Yochanan ran and grabbed his coat before heading out the door. Achim followed his new friend. Before long, they had caught up to Shimon. Yochanan ran past the older fisherman. Achim couldn’t breathe. His lungs heaved as he tried to keep up with the young man. When the boy didn’t think he could handle it another moment, he stumbled into Yochanan who was standing looking into a cave.

Achim glanced around the side of the door to look. He barely had taken everything in when Shimon pushed through and walked right in! No surprise shown on Yochanan’s face. Achim couldn’t believe Shimon’s boldness.

“What have they done?” Shimon’s voice had changed from the outrage registered in the upper room to quiet wonder.

Yochanan entered to see what had caused the modification. Achim followed. What the boy saw amazed him! He had expected to see a dark dank cave with dead bodies, like he had seen at Momma’s burial. Instead, his eyes saw clean white walls and an emptiness that almost welcomed people to relax and stay a while. None of the niches had been used yet. It was a fresh new tomb. Then Achim’s eyes landed on the spot where the men and women had placed Yeshua. Only two folded sheets lay there! One lay at the foot of the niche and one at the head. Each had been neatly and carefully set in their spot.

“It can’t be!” For the first time since their meeting in Caiaphas’ house, Yochanan’s voice held hope. “He hasn’t been taken; he’s alive!”

Achim’s mind reeled. How could Yeshua be alive? That made no sense. Yochanan turned and walked out of the cave with his head held high. Achim looked to Shimon, but the man seemed to be in his own little world of grief. Achim understood. The woman, her hair a mess, had finally caught up and came in. Hysteria showed on her face as well as a deep sorrow. Achim followed Yochanan. The boy heard the birds singing their songs. Flowers let their scent hang in the air for all to smell. The color in the early morning sky blended into even the path they walked.

“Yochanan,” Achim finally asked, “what can it mean?”

A smile broke out upon the man’s face. It made him appear even younger than he was.

“Achim, you had asked about the wonders Yeshua performed. Once we saw him raise a man who had been dead for four days! Yep,” he nodded when Achim stared in wonder. “I saw it with my own eyes. Lazarus had been wrapped up in the burial cloths just like Yeshua was. When the rabbi called Lazarus by name, he walked out of the tomb—or better yet waddled like a duck. His arms couldn’t move, they’d been pinned to his side. His face had been hidden from the sudarium. Yeshua’s first words were to unwrap Lazarus!”

Achim envisioned the moment. What joy he would have felt had Momma been in Lazarus’ place. He came back to the case of Yeshua’s tomb. This story of Lazarus did not explain how the rabbi could be alive. Yochanan seemed to sense Achim’s questions.

“Did you see the shroud and the sudarium?”

Achim nodded. “They were folded with care, almost deliberately.”

“Exactly,” Yochanan agreed. “If someone had stolen the rabbi’s body, they wouldn’t have taken the time to leave the cloths. They would have wanted to keep him wrapped up. But,” here Yochanan paused in walking and held up a finger. “But, if he had risen, he would have carefully unwrapped himself and left the pieces for evidence.”

Achim wasn’t sure he followed the man’s logic, but the hope and joy that shown from Yochanan’s eyes was refreshing. The two walked the rest of the way in silence.

Shortly after they had returned to the upper room, the woman they had followed entered. Her face radiated from a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“He is alive!” she said barely above a whisper. Then she shouted it. “He’s alive!”

Yochanan nodded his head, encouraging her. Achim marveled at the change in the two. She had been so hysterical and mourning all weekend. Now, joy and hope seemed to pulse through her spreading to all.

“I saw him!” she exclaimed. “I saw him!”

“Where?” Yochanan asked.

“In the garden outside the tomb. After you and Shimon left, I saw two men in bright white tunics. They lit up the tomb. I asked where they had taken the rabbi. They replied he was risen, but I couldn’t comprehend it. I turned around and saw a man. I thought it was the gardener. I pleaded with him to show me where he had moved Yeshua. He only smiled, that sad smile. You know when we didn’t understand something. Then he called my name!” Her smile seemed plastered permanently in place. Gone was the sorrow. In its place shown joy and peace.

Achim wondered at it. How could this be?

Later, Shimon returned. Achim noticed immediately the change in the big fisherman. He sat quietly. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears while his smile never left his face. All he would say was, “I saw him. He’s alive.”

Achim shook his head. Was it possible? Two people had physically seen Yeshua. Other women, including Mariam had seen angels who said he was alive. Inwardly, Achim struggled. He knew the rabbi could do wonders, but this was beyond anything that Yeshua had done before.

All afternoon, Achim wrestled with the question. He sat thinking through the possibilities. Finally, toward the evening meal, he had condensed his arguments down to three. He ticked them off on his fingers. Option one, Yeshua was a liar. Achim shook his head. He had seen too many proofs against this. Option two, Yeshua was a lunatic. Again Achim shook his head. Those eyes of love, compassion, hope, and tenderness were not the eyes of a crazy man. That left only one other choice. Yeshua was God. A sigh escaped the boy. He recalled the nighttime conversation with Yochanan. Yeshua’s young friend had said the rabbi had claimed to be the great shepherd, the bread of life, the way, the light of the world, the door, and the resurrection and the life. If Yeshua claimed to be these things that only God is, and if Yeshua was telling the truth, then that meant only one thing. Achim straightened up.

“He is alive, and He is God!” the boy whispered.

“What was that, Achim?” Yochanan asked looking up from where he sat at a table with Shimon.

Achim felt the blood rush to his cheeks, but he looked Yochanan in the eyes and repeated louder. “Yeshua is alive, and He is God. This is something that will require child-like faith to accept.”

Yochanan smiled. “Yes, that is exactly what Yeshua said.”

“I know,” Achim felt a tear steal from his eye. “I heard him. I had gone searching for healing for Momma, and instead, I was used as an object lesson.”

Shimon turned around. Achim noticed the fisherman’s eyes shown with kindness and understanding.

“What happened?”

Achim shrugged. “I never asked Yeshua to heal Momma. At the time it didn’t seem to be important. Later,” He paused and wiped a tear away. “Later, I wished I had.” Silence hung in the air. Voices drifted up from down below. “I guess, if I had, I would have never been here for this weekend.”

Yochanan smiled, but before he could respond, the door burst open and two men who had left earlier in the day came in gasping.

“We’ve seen him!” they both said stumbling over each others’ words. “He came to us on the way home.”

“He shared from the prophets how the Messiah was suppose to suffer!” the one continued allowing his companion to catch his breath. “We wondered at his teaching, but we didn’t recognize him.”

The other man picked up the story. “When we arrived at Emmaus, we invited him in for a bite to eat. There while he prayed, our eyes were able to truly see him!”

“We ran back to tell you all,” the first finished.

“He is alive!” Yochanan agreed.

“I have seen him,” Shimon said and began to relay the happenings earlier that day.

As they were talking, Achim looked up. A man stood at the head of the table! No one had been there before; Achim was sure of it! A gasp went up from someone across the room, a scream from elsewhere.

“Shalom,” Yeshua said.

Achim sat in amazement. It was one thing to say the rabbi was God and had risen; it was quite another to see the man appear out of nowhere. It took some time for the commotion to settle down. Everyone talked at once. Finally, Yeshua asked for something to eat. Yochanan handed the teacher some bread. As he ate, he went over the Scriptures, explaining how they spoke of the Messiah not just His reigning over the kingdom of heaven, but also how He would suffer, die, and come back to life.

Achim’s mind sang the phrases over and over. “He is alive; He is God. He is alive; He is God.”

Achim is a fictional character, but his backstory and the happenings he witnesses are based on accounts in the gospels. I have drawn from Matthew, Luke, and John mostly to tell the story. If you are like Achim, wondering who Jesus claimed to be, I’d recommend these resources from Lee Strobel. He has videos about who Christ is and the prophecies concerning the Messiah.

A Unique Look at Holy Week Part 4

Our story of Achim begins in the garden. From there he follows the crowd into Yerushalem to Annas’ house. In part 3 we left Achim with his friend Libi. She was delivering a platter of food to the high priest, Caiaphas.

He nodded. He continued to keep pace with her, but when she came to a doorway, he paused. She walked through. Light spilled out of the rectangular opening along with raised voices. Achim stole a glance around the edge of the wooden frame. What he saw took his breath away.

Torches lined the walls along with beautiful tapestries, the likes of which he had only seen in bazaars. Low tables spread around the room held men reclining at them. The men all wore tunics of fine weave. They were arguing among themselves. In the middle stood Yeshua!

“He is guilty of death!” one man yelled.

“What proof do you have?” another replied.

“You want proof? Here,” a man at the far side stood up.

He motioned to something in the shadows and two men came forward. Their clothes looked more like what Achim had seen in the courtyard—poor and course. They stood in stark contrast to the opulence of the room. Several men placed a cloth in front of their noses as if to protect them from the odor.

“Men of the Sanhedrin,” the first spoke, his eyes constantly moving, shifting from one side to another, “That man,” he pointed to Yeshua, “said he would destroy the temple!”

A gasp made its way around the room. Libi exited and pulled Achim back from the doorway.

“What do you think you are doing? You’ll get us both in trouble!”

Achim hung his head. He didn’t want to cause problems for Libi. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see.”

Her eyes softened. “You weren’t caught, so we’re okay. What did you need to tell me?”

Achim lifted his head. He remembered what had drawn him to follow Libi.

“There is a man over there. His name is Shimon. He is a friend of Yeshua. Before I came to Yerushalem, I saw Yeshua in the countryside with his followers. That man was with them.”

Libi’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise.”

Libi nodded. Achim could almost see her deciding what to do as the firelight reflected from her brown eyes.

“I’ve got to report back to Abigail. I’ll see you after a while.”

Achim watched her go. Part of him wanted to see what the Sanhedrin did to Yeshua, while the other part knew it wasn’t wise. A chill wind blew across the courtyard. Achim rubbed his hands along his arms and moved toward the fire. Without realizing it, he found himself beside Shimon. The man seemed anxious and nervous. He wrung his hands together over the fire. The other men chatted quietly. It seemed the energy from before had been released.

Achim had almost fallen asleep on his feet, when he heard Libi’s voice.

“You were with Yeshua.”

Shimon jumped as if someone had poked him with a spike. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The burly man moved away toward a side entrance. Achim closed his mouth. He hadn’t realized he had opened it. What had Libi done? Did she want to get Shimon in trouble as well? Achim followed Libi away from the fire.

“What was that all about?” he whispered harshly, his anger showing through.

“You said he was one of Yeshua’s friends. I don’t want any trouble. Abigail said the Sanhedrin is condemning the teacher. If he has followers here, they’ll revolt, and we’ll have a fight on our hands. Besides, I’ve heard about Shimon. He’s hot-headed.”

Achim shook his head. He didn’t know what was happening any more. He turned away from his friend and looked around. Another figure hid in the shadows. He was a small man, not much older than Achim. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. As Achim watched, the man wiped at his cheek. Was the man crying? Achim moved closer to see better. What he found surprised him.

The young man smiled at Achim.

“Hello,” he said in a gentle voice. “What brings someone as young as you to Caiaphas’ house?”

Achim’s first instinct was to lie, but something in the man’s eyes said he understood.

“I followed the men.”

The man nodded. “I did, too.”

The two stood quietly leaning against the wall. A stray memory seemed to play at the edges of Achim’s mind. He couldn’t place it.

A commotion caught their attention. At one of the fire pits men were gesturing wildly. A voice rose over the courtyard. Achim had heard swearing in his young life, but the man yelling topped them all. Achim recognized Shimon’s voice.

“I tell you, I don’t know the man!”

To Achim’s side, Yeshua walked through the door, or rather was pushed. His hands were tied behind his back. Whether it was the eery lighting of the courtyard or something else, Achim wasn’t sure, but it appeared that Yeshua’s face was black and blue. The teacher paused and seemed to look directly at Shimon. Silence hung in the air. A rooster crowed. The man beside Achim hid his face. As if on some unspoken command, noise returned to the courtyard. Shimon rushed out the door his sobs reaching Achim’s ears.

Achim didn’t know where to look—at Shimon or Yeshua. The decision was taken from him, as Yeshua moved toward the main gate. The Sanhedrin exited and followed behind him. Some looked pleased while others seemed to hang their heads in shame. Achim wondered what it was all about. Then he saw the high priest. Caiaphas’ tunic was rent in two—a sign of mourning or extreme anger!

As the last one left the courtyard, the man beside Achim reached out and touched the boy’s shoulder.

“Come, we should go. By the way, my name is Yochanan.”

At the mention of his name, Achim took a closer look. The man was older than what Achim remembered, but it was still the same young man who had leaned in on Yeshua’s side to ask the teacher to answer Shimon’s question of who was the greatest.

Achim nodded and followed Yochanan out the door. While they walked, Achim introduced himself. He was surprised to find that they were walking along the street with the temple looming over them. Their steps led them to the Antonia Fortress. That did not bode well for Yeshua.

Stay tuned for part 5.

A Unique Look at Holy Week part 3

We left Achim remembering a time with Yeshua years earlier. Now reality closes back in.

The moment passed as the men led Yeshua on. Achim’s mind whirled, but he followed at a discrete distance. This time Achim noticed his surroundings, making sure he knew where he was. The men led him across the city without fear or much variation in their route. A sinking feeling settled in Achim’s stomach. It was similar to when Momma became too ill to move about. He pushed the thought of Momma aside and focused on Yeshua. Soon, the temple loomed above them. The men paused in the street as if waiting for a door to open and then filed through.

Achim glanced around. He recognized the large gates of the high priest’s house. He waited for everyone to enter and then walked past the main entrance and around to the side of the house where a door admitted servants. His friend Libi worked for the high priest. Maybe she would let him come in where it would be warmer.

He tapped lightly on the wood, wondering if anyone would be wandering the back hallways. To his surprise, the door opened almost immediately.

“Achim?” Libi’s soft lilting voice called his name in surprise. “What are you doing here?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Come on in. There’s enough visitors in the main courtyard you won’t be noticed there.”

Achim noticed her dark curly hair trying to escape the headdress. He smiled. Libi usually looked prim and proper—all except her hair. It seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Achim, this isn’t a time to smile,” she said, her hands on her hips. “Do you realize the Sanhedrin has come and is holding a nighttime meeting? They meet up in the Royal Stoa in the temple, not at Caiaphas’ house! Something is not right.”

The amusement from Libi’s unkempt hair faded. Achim looked down. “I know. I followed them from the garden to a place by Herod’s palace and then to here. They have Yeshua.”

Libi’s hand went to her mouth as if to stifle the gasp that came out. “No! That can’t be! I’ve heard my mistress and master talking about Yeshua, but I didn’t think it would come to this.”

Achim nodded and pushed a stray hair out of his face. “They bound him and led him away from the garden. His friends all fled.”

Libi turned and led Achim through the hall to the front coutyard. A large gate dominated the one wall, while braziers burned in various spots spread out over the tiled floor. The moonlight that had lit the streets seemed to have hid itself behind some clouds. The only light in the courtyard came from the small fires. People’s faces held an eery glow, and shadows dominated the area.

“I have to get back to serving,” Libi said.

Achim nodded. He walked over to a side wall and stood. He noticed the people in the room were all men. Some wore rough clothes as if they lived in the lower city. Others sported fancy tunics. Here, men who would not have associated with each other stood side by side quietly conversing. Often their eyes darted across the courtyard to the wall furthest from Achim. From this distance the boy couldn’t see what the other wall held. Once he was certain no one saw him or cared that he was there, he began to slowly make his way around the wall to the front and then to the other side.

His movements did not portray any of the worry or nervousness he felt. His years on the streets of Yerushalem had taught him if he looked guilty men would assume he was guilty. So, he walked purposefully as if he belonged in the courtyard. If someone paid more attention to him than he thought good or necessary, he’d sidle up to another man and act as his son. He stayed in the group until the attention had long passed away. Then he would continue his journey.

It was while in one such group that a voice caught his attention.

“Ah, now ya got it all wrong! That’s not how you go about it.”

Achim looked up to see a man waving muscular arms as he explained how to get the best price at market. Achim felt his eyes widen. This was the man who had asked Yeshua about being greatest in the kingdom! What had Yeshua called him? Achim thought and thought. The memory came back along with the man’s name, just as Libi passed him. Achim followed her.

“Pst, Libi,” he said as he moved toward her. “Libi, wait up.”

She turned but didn’t really slow any. Achim hurried to catch up. The tray in her hands held dried fruits and a basket of bread.

“I have to take this to Caiaphas, Achim. You can’t come in.”

He nodded. He continued to keep pace with her, but when she came to a doorway, he paused. She walked through. Light spilled out of the rectangular opening along with raised voices. Achim stole a glance around the edge of the wooden frame. What he saw took his breath away.

Learn more about Achim’s story in part 4.

A Unique Look at Holy Week Part 2

The story of Achim continues.

Unlike Achim, the crowd moved without fear. Their feet pounding first on the dirt-packed path, then on the cobblestone streets. Their movements echoed from the stone walls as they entered the city. The torchlight lent an eery, orange glow to people ahead of Achim and to the buildings they passed. No one moved in the homes. No one stirred to look outside to see who or what was making the racket in the streets.

Achim almost bumped into the last person in the group when they stopped suddenly. The boy looked around the streets to identify what would be the hold up. The narrow streets gave him no clue, until the people filtered away one by one. Achim then could clearly see the palace of the Asmonaeans with its wide stairs and two tall towers rising to the night sky. The moon shone off its white-washed walls. The final person entered a doorway and the gate closed behind him. Achim watched from the shadows.

“What are they doing?” he wondered out loud. “What are they doing with the teacher?”

The rabbi, that was the key to the whole thing. Achim heard again the kind voice, the voice that brought back memories. The buildings around him faded as he remembered. Those were happy days; the family was whole. He was able to protect Momma and Margalit. The three of them had gone out to see Yeshua. The day had dawned bright and hopeful. Rumors abounded that Yeshua could cure any illness. Maybe Momma would be healed. Although, she never spoke of the pain, Achim often saw it in her eyes as it crushed her spirit.

Once out in the countryside, the crowds swelled. There would be no way to get Momma close to Yeshua. Too many people blocked their way, and Momma would have none of pushing and shoving. Besides it hurt too much for her to meander through the people like that.

“You go ahead, Achim,” Momma said. “You see him. Maybe you will be able to get him to see me later.”

Achim looked deep into Momma’s dark eyes. The pain that always lay hidden showed, but he also saw pride in her son. He stood straighter. He would not fail her. He would bring Yeshua to Momma.

As he squeezed between people, he kept his eyes on the ground and pictured Momma’s eyes. He could make his way to the front for her. He ignored the curses and hands that pushed at him as he moved toward his goal. Finally, there was no one else to squeeze through. He looked up. Twelve men sat around a very ordinary looking man.

“Rabbi, who’s the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?” a man, with arms twice the size of any Achim had ever seen, asked.

“Yes, Yeshua,” a younger man agreed, leaning closer to the teacher, “please tell us.”

The other men nodded their heads in agreement. Yeshua looked around at the expectant faces. Achim wondered how he would get the teacher’s attention. Then the unthinkable happened. Yeshua stood and looked around. His brown eyes landed on Achim! This wasn’t like when adults see through a child. No, the rabbi saw him and began walking toward him! Achim wanted to back away, but the crowd stood blocking his escape. Yeshua stopped in front of Achim, and then bent down to his eye level. Achim stared into those dark eyes. They reminded him of Momma’s. Pain hid in the corners, while love marched straight out of them. Fear fled away from those brown eyes. The man reached out and took Achim’s hand in his own large one. Achim felt safe. Everyone else around them faded from his senses. He was alone with this man in a field where spring flowers lent their wondrous scent and clouds flitted across the sky. He wished the moment would last forever. Then he remembered Momma!

“Rabbi,” he began to speak, his voice soft and timid.

“Hush, my son,” the voice, just as his touch and eyes, brought calm, but it held that hint of pain, as if he knew more than anyone else what pain was. “I know. Come with me.”

Achim wondered what was happening but had complete trust in Yeshua. The men sitting on the ground, though, seemed to question what their rabbi was doing. They didn’t voice their concerns, but Achim saw it in their eyes. Distrustful eyes, wary eyes, eyes that were accustomed to protecting their teacher. Achim recognized those last. His eyes often looked like that when he stared at them in the cracked mirror in Momma’s room.

Yeshua came to a stop. He stood with his hands on Achim’s shoulders. Achim stared into twelve faces. He wondered what he was doing, but Yeshua’s hands on his small frame grounded him in peace.

“My friends,” the rabbi spoke from above Achim’s head, “truly, if you do not change your heart to become like the heart of a child, you will not be able to come into the Kingdom of Heaven. Anyone who humbles himself, just like this little child,” Achim felt the hands on his shoulders squeeze gently, “is greatest in the Kingdom.”

Achim saw the looks of disbelief on the men’s faces. They couldn’t understand how a child, a kid, could be the greatest in God’s kingdom. Achim himself didn’t understand it.

“Anyone who welcomes a child such as this one in my name, welcomes me. However,” here the teacher paused.

Achim wondered what was happening above him for the men in front of him squirmed.

The rabbi continued but his voice held pain and almost anger blended together. “However, whoever puts a stumbling block in front of one of these little ones who believes in me,” he paused and Achim could hear a bird sing in a far off tree. He felt the rabbi’s hands tremble on his shoulders. “It would be better for that man if someone put a grind stone from a mill around his neck and throw him into the sea!”

A collective gasp went up from the crowd and the men. Achim felt the fear course through him. Better to drown in the sea than cause a child to stumble? Achim could not understand it. The rabbi turned Achim around and again knelt down to his level.

“I understand your need, my son,” he whispered. “Now is not the time. Later you will have what you need.”

Achim nodded though he did not understand. Yeshua lifted his hands from the boy’s shoulders and stood, he turned to the crowd and continued talking.

The memory faded at a screech from across the street. Achim looked up and saw the gate opening and a man with a torch leading the way. Others followed him, including Yeshua! Those brown eyes from so long ago turned and looked directly at Achim! The boy stood still, unable to move. The pain that hid at the corners of Yeshua’s eyes now came front and center, but the love that had been there before screamed louder than ever.

The moment passed as the men led Yeshua on. Achim’s mind whirled, but he followed at a discrete distance.

Stay tuned for more from Achim’s story of Holy Week.

What if it was illegal to plant seeds?

In January, I had the privilege of receiving a book as a gift. Being an author, I understood the value of that autographed paperback. So, with loving care, I picked it up and began reading. I instantly was transported to a new world–well kind of. It actually was a very probably future America where gardening and saving seeds was outlawed, where food comes in boxes and squares all ready processed called Vitees, Protein, Juices, Carbos, and Sweeties. It was an extreme example of what could happen if the GMOs gained political momentum and took over.

The characters are twelve-year-old Clare, her nine-year-old brother Dante, and her twelve-year-old friend, Lily. Today, I have the honor of introducing you to Clare. I was able to do an interview with her!

Me: Clare, I heard you started this whole Seed Savers adventure. Tell me a little about that.

Clare: Sure. When I was twelve I first heard the word “seed” at church, and–

Me:  Wait–you hadn’t heard the word “seed” before?

Clare: That’s right. I’m from a future where kids don’t know what seeds are. It’s forgotten about, like the words “television set.” So I asked an older woman about seeds and she started teaching me.

Me: That would be Ana?

Clare: Yes. Ana became my teacher. And then, of course, I brought my friend Lily in on it, and Dante, my brother.

Me: So now that you know about seeds and real food, do you think you can go back to the Vitees and Carbos and that kind of food?

Clare: Definitely not!

Me: How’s that going to work out?

Clare: I’m not sure. Right now it’s frustrating because I’m in hiding and so we can’t garden. If I were out, and nobody else’s safety depended on it, I would try to grow a garden anyway. I mean, Gruff had a garden on his balcony in New Jersey and he got away with it.

Me: This is true.

Clare: I might even go back to Canada. But I really want to be part of the change. I want everyone to have freedom of choice about their food.

Me: Seems reasonable. Some people are wondering if you and Lily are growing apart…

Clare: I wouldn’t worry about it.

Me: What about Jason? Is this a romance?

Clare: (rolls eyes) Does everything always have to be a romance? Can’t  a girl and a guy ever just be friends? I thought you said this interview was about Seed Savers?

Me: I’m sorry. I think readers just naturally gravitate towards that. Okay, let’s wrap it up on a final note about Seed Savers. Do you think your Movement is going to have a victory any time soon?

Clare: (smiles) Of course. With young people in the Movement, how could we be anything but victorious?

So, if you now are intrigued, go check out S. Smith and her books, Seed Savers. They’re a great read for kids and kids in adult bodies.

 

Another Train, Another Station

This story first appeared on my deviant art account. I wrote it for a contest which required a steampunk theme and a dragon. I thought it would be a great way to start off the week.

“Well, another train, another station, again. Liz, when will we ever stop traveling?” Wy asked around the satchel he held in his mouth.

“Go ahead and set it down,” the slender girl said with a sigh, motioning to the satchel. “It was your fault, again.”

Her dark eyes glared at him. For the thousandth time he wondered what exactly she saw. Placing the satchel down, he leaned back against the metal post of the station wall and examined himself. He wasn’t bad looking for a wyvrn. Sure, he was a bit small, but his rusty orange color compensated for that fact. Being small also made him fast and agile in flight. That had gotten them into trouble before, too.

“Wipe the frown off your snout, Wy,” Liz said, setting her own satchel beside his little one and adjusting her small top hat. “You’re much more adorable without it.”

“You think I’m adorable?” Wy inquired with a grin. “That may make up for blaming me for being here.”

“Well, it was your fault,” she replied, her face twisting with a grimace.

Wy didn’t reply. He didn’t want to think of last night and the reason they were standing in another train station.

“Where would you be without me?” he said, trying to appeal to her better side.

“I’d be back on Caladyn peacefully running my linguistics consultation business.” She shot back, too quickly for Wy’s tastes.

“You’d be bored, though. Admit it,” he said. “Without my help you wouldn’t have the ambassadors, politicians, and high-end clientele.”

“Right, but without them and without you, I’d not be here right now,” she repeated.

Wy frowned. “It was an accident.”

“I know.” Liz placed a hand on Wy’s head and began rubbing it. “Don’t mind me. I’m always in a bad mood when we have to move. Besides, I didn’t care for their stuffy attitudes. They needed some livening up.”

Wy grinned, showing his teeth. “That they did.”

The two fell into a companionable silence, as they waited for the next train. The sounds of steam emitting from the engines as they idled filled the area. Condensation covered the glass walls and ceiling, giving the building a feeling of a greenhouse more than a train station. Wy closed his eyes and soaked in the heat.

It really had been his fault this time, but he was right in saying that Liz wouldn’t be where she was today as a linguistics consultant without him either. His innate ability with languages had come in handy on more than one occasion, and Liz had been able to advertise linguistic help in any language on the planet. When he had first found her ten years ago, she was barely making ends meet. Now, she could afford the nice gray suits that she loved and as many top hats as she wanted. Of course, the constant moving, limited what she could carry, but she had the means to purchase new ones at the next stop.

They had entertained ambassadors, lowly relatives, judges, plaintiffs, and lawyers since Wy had joined up with Liz. Many were simple cases of translating legal briefs; a few were more intricate than that. Once Liz negotiated the peace treaty between two warring gangs in the city of Caladyn. Wy paused in his thoughts, picking up a stray scent. His nose wiggled. Finally, he placed it—an old sandwich dropped by an inattentive traveler. His mind traveled back to Caladyn. It was a nice place to be, but when he had disregarded the cultural norms of the Black Hawks—. He let the thought hang in mid-air. He didn’t want to remember. That was the first train station they had seen. They couldn’t find it fast enough to suit the mayor of Caladyn or the warring gangs either. The gangs found unity in kicking Liz and Wy out of town and then wrecking havoc on the mayor’s house as well.

That had been the first of many slip ups Wy had instigated. Each one leading to another train and another station. This latest fiasco had occurred just the night before. Liz had decided to welcome her clients, Ambassadors Beryl and Clark, to her home for a meal. The two ambassadors had hired Liz to help them translate some laws into the language of their constituents. The evening was going to be a straight forward work session. It would have been straight forward if it hadn’t been for Wy.

Wy sighed as he remembered.

“Quit fuming.” Liz’s voice broke into his revere. “Do you want to start a fire here, as well?”

“I can’t.” Wy snorted, purposefully blowing out smoke from his nostrils.

At Liz’s questioning glance, Wy tapped his foot against the post behind him. A metallic ringing filled the air as his claw scraped the pole. A spark dropped down onto the paving stones and fizzled out as if to prove his point.

Wy’s face lit up. “Now there’s an idea! Make our next home like this.”

“A train station?” Liz’s voice held no enthusiasm.

“No, out of metal!”

Liz snorted, a very unladylike sound, and the two fell back into their own thoughts.

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Wy thought sourly.

The idea had merit. If their home had been made out of metal, they would still be sitting there with the ambassadors. As it was, the house had been made out of wood, and they were standing in the station.

The evening had started out alright. Liz and Wy sat down with the ambassadors to work. The two men seemed a little nervous to have a wyvrn standing at their knees, but adjusted somewhat as the evening wore on. Things didn’t go south until hunger settled over the group. Liz had planned a barbecue, but hadn’t checked her fuel supply. Red juices still poured from the meat when the fuel ran out. The gas lamps had been on for about a half hour by then. Wy knew that had been the main fault, the gas lines to the house, not him. Seeing Liz’s predicament of a half cooked meal, Wy decided to help by roasting the meat for them. How was he to know that the gas lamp for the porch had let off enough gas to cause a problem. His flame met with the extra gas and created an explosive evening. The ambassadors left in a huff with singed robes. Shortly after they left, the telephone rang and the operator put the mayor on the phone saying they needed to catch the next train out of town.

A squeal of metal and a hiss of steam, brought Wy out of his revere. Liz reached down and picked up her satchel with a shrug and a smile, as if to say all was forgiven. Wy grinned back and picked up his satchel in his mouth. With a final adjustment of her top hat, Liz headed off toward the train. Wy followed, wondering if there was yet another train and another station in their future. For now, he was content to stay with Liz as long as she would have him.

A Healer uses Tea

As winter ran its course, I found myself moving to drinking coffee and tea more often. One tea worked its way into my cupboard and hence into my mug. Celestial Seasonings’ Tension Tamer became a regular. I have loved this tea since I was a young mom. The aroma itself just relaxes me. As I drank it this winter though, I read through Dragon’s Revenge, book three of the Dragon Courage series. The main character in this book is Kyn, the youngling and healer from book one. Forty-one times tea comes up in the manuscript! As I read it and drank Tension Tamer, I realized that Meredyth’s tea was Tension Tamer.

As the three men left the inn, they were stopped by the mistress. “Kind sir, I want to thank you for the tea last night. Where did you come by such delicious leaves?”

Kyn bowed to her. “You are most welcome, honored lady. The leaves are handpicked by a woman who is like a mother to me. She has yet to share the origin of her blend. I have tried different blends of my own, but there is none quite like hers.”    

Blurb:

In search of his place in the world, Kyn visits his new friend, Ben’hyamene. Together, they meet an ailing dragon rider from the marshes of a land called the Carr. The rider recounts a people beset by anger, depression, and despair. After befriending and healing the rider, the group travels to the rider’s home. There they discover a breed of wild dragons, called drakes, which have been at war with humans for four hundred years.

One sleepless night, Ben’hyamene uses his new abilities to communicate with the lead drake. This sets Kyn and Ben’hyamene on a path that could bring peace to a conflict that’s nearly destroyed a whole people. Can revenge be set aside and enemies be called friends?

Find out in the exciting third book of the Dragon Courage series, Dragon’s Revenge by Kandi J Wyatt.

It was at the moment when he couldn’t force himself to continue that he smelled Meredyth’s tea. The smell took him away from the little log cabin and placed him into a familiar abode in Three Spans Canyon. Ruskya, Carryl, Meredyth, and Ruskya’s great-uncle Glendyn all sat around Glendyn’s stove. Kyn could see them clearly. They had sat that way many times, the five of them talking over a mug of Meredyth’s tea. The emotional drain lifted, and Kyn could think clearly. He was brought back to the little log cabin by Ben’hyamene’s voice.

Trailer:

Available Tuesday, April 5, 2016.

Cover:

Great Reads for February

I was recently asked what my reading goal was for this year. I hemmed and hawed, trying to figure out when I would add reading time into my all ready busy schedule. I said I could probably read twenty books this year. I based it on the amount of books I read last year. I included some that were read via audio books as well. I thought I would share what I’ve read so far.

It’s amazing how things work out. I had started one book in December and figured I would finish it in January. Little did I expect to have not only finished that one, but two more and started on two others in January alone! What caught my attention and why are they good for you? Glad you asked.

Tumbleweed by Heather Huffman

This is a great clean romance based around horses. Ever since I was a child and read Misty of Chintoteague I have loved horse stories. This one was about a single mom who is trying to find herself. She and her son drive down to the Ozarks where she was raised and get a job on a horse ranch. I loved the way the story flowed, but even more so the point of view of the character and her insecurities blended with humor. How many of us have had an interview not go the way we planned it? I had one where my cell phone rang not once, but twice! The main character, Hailey, begins and ends the book with interviews that don’t go the way she wants them to.

Arena by Sally Hull, narrated by Esther Hardcastle

Early in January, we returned my 18-year-old son to college, a twelve hour round trip up the Oregon Coast. The night before, I delivered a copy of Dragon’s Heir to a former student and neighbor. She held the honor of having the dedication. After giving her the book, her parents sat and chatted with me. Her mom has contracted with ACX to do audio books. So, we talked about the books she had done. By the time the evening was over, I had selected our reading for the trip the next day. Arena caught my attention because as my former neighbor put it, it was like C. S. Lewis’ science fiction series. However, once we got into the story it turned out to be a very well thought out intriguing read. It takes place in a dystopia world where people are divided into three races–priest, thinker, and fighter. All races strive to live in the top cubicle. They move up by fighting in the arena. It is a true survival of the fittest. However, when a dying priests gives instructions of where to find an ancient book to a young idealistic priest life changes for the young priest, his study mate, and two thinkers and two fighters. The journey leaves the reader wondering about what life would be like if evolutionary science was taken to the extremes. Since I started this one with the family, we haven’t finished it yet. I still want to know what happens to Stormer and the others.

Doc Adams–Jungle Dentist by Don Adams and Donna Adams Fedukowski

This book has not yet reached Amazon. It will, but I was given a proofreading job by my friend, Donna. This book has all the classic signatures of a missionary story in the jungle. Donna’s dad, Don Adams, took his family to the jungles of Peru for ten years in the 60’s and 70’s. He was a dentist who pulled teeth, performed surgeries, provided braces, neutered pets, and a number of other doctor type things because of his medical background. The story begins in the United States with a brief introduction to Don and his family life. Then a chapter written by his wife introduces her to the readers. Quickly, the reader is in the Amazon jungle laughing at antics and enjoying the life of the jungle dentist. As I read, I realized this is a must have for any church library or anyone who loves missionary stories.

The Seed Savers series by S. Smith

January held a photographers’ seminar in Portland, Oregon. My husband took the week to attend and learn and grow as a photographer. On the way home, he stopped to pick up a set of furniture for his new home studio. As he and the owner packed the furniture into the back of the pickup, they began to talk shop. The owner was a photographer. The other helper with the loading was an author. She wrote middle grade/young adult books. Her series consisted of five books. She also had been a teacher. The connection was made and before my husband left, he held a small book, Treasure, in his hands. He brought it home for me. Since, Dragon’s Revenge is in proofreading, I had time to read. I picked it up and was pulled into a futuristic world of twelve- and thirteen-year-olds Claire and Lily. They live in a world where gardening and collecting seeds and eating real food is prohibited and illegal. They discover what it is like to plant their first tomato. Claire and Dante then take off on an adventure to find the Garden State. Before I knew it, I had devoured the book and was left stating, “I need to read book two!” This week, I received email notification of a blog post by S Smith. Book two, Lily, was on sale for $.99 as an eBook. I quickly grabbed it and began reading as well. Last night, at 9:00 I had to put it aside to go to bed, but I really wanted to stay up and finish it. Book two follows, Lily, the best friend of Claire. She was left behind when Claire and Dante headed on their adventure. Lily remains in the city still learning about gardening and food preparation. New characters are introduced, and Lily learns some startling things about her family and the history of the Seed Saver network. I know as soon as I finish Lily, I will want to move on to book three. I can’t wait to find out if the kids will be able to bring back gardening to the world or will GRIM, the government agency that keeps food under tabs prevail?