A short story…

I don’t think I’ve ever actually posted a story on here, sooooo…let me know what you think!

From Cowardice Defend Us

Stories about cowardice can be as gripping as those about courage. One tells us about who we’d like to be; the other tells us about who we fear we are.

~ Author Unknown

Shattered pieces of glass dig into my hands and knees as I scramble into the dark building. 

Hair drenched in sweat. Explosions and gunshots that are far behind rattle in my ears as if I’m next to them. 

My heart pounds in time with my ragged breaths. Or is it sobs? Is it sweat or tears streaming down my face? I swipe my hand, cut and covered in dirt, over my eyes. It does nothing.

Like the glass that punctures my skin, the words that echo after me stab deeper. 




A noise! I jerk and roll from my hands and knees into a ball, shivering as I cower beneath the unstable rafters of a half burnt-out barn. I press against the wall. Even burnt-out ruins don’t tremble against my insignificant weight. Insignificance in general.

I wrap my arms around my knees, clenching my jaw to stop the chattering teeth that sound like machine guns inside me.

The real guns have stopped. At last, they’ve stopped. If ears could, mine would breathe a sigh of relief. 

Are my brothers in arms dead? Have they joined so many others?

I cower against the wood, tighten the wrap around my knees. I try to force some warmth into my body, but none comes. Just cold darkness. Cold mud that seeps into everything, through my boots, through my uniform. Eyes squeeze shut, throat constricts. Like a child terrified of monsters that don’t exist. 

Deserter. Traitor. Coward. I can never go back. Victory must be close! Why couldn’t I hold on just a little longer? Just a little longer and it could’ve all been over.

“If I die, then so be it,” my brother had whispered, was it days ago? Hours? Minutes? He has always had that strength. The strength I’ve always wanted—and now never will have. 

 Is he dead? Dead because I left him? 

“Go get ‘em, son.” That’s what Dad said as I left. His work-worn hand gentle as it rested on my shoulder. “And come back home.” 

“Are you scared?” My younger sister asked with childlike curiosity. Her wide, star-filled eyes gazed up at me to repeat the question. 

I’d smiled back then. I could put on a brave face when we were all going off together. Proud and defiant. It was our time to serve, to protect our home, our families. Rifles slung on our backs. Young and brave. But with every passing moment, the brave began to waver, and the young look younger than ever. Fear like a blanket draped over all of us. The thought of victory—a prize so far off. As we fought the war, slept in the mud, and one by one, left this world, defiance fled and our pride changed to terror. Unblinking eyes, unmoving lips.

What once was brave is now cowering in a barn. My brother and friends are still fighting, still bleeding out on the battlefields. Stories of courage, that’s what they are. I am a story of cowardice. 

I could never do the things that my brother did. No matter how hard I tried, whatever I did—I slam my fist into the floor, I give a muffled cry as splinters of broken window glass respond. 

Cradle my hand. Long for sleep to come. Rest that will block the screams of dying men from my ears. But no sleep, no rest.

The night drags on. My body is limp against the wall. I stare into nothing. Flashes of images I long to forget are all my eyes can see. Flashes of artillery that light up a peaceful night, destroy the calm and all in between. 

The brokenness a war brings. 

My head sags under its own weight. Everything cries out for escape, yet no one runs to my rescue. 

Tiny slivers of light begin to peek through cracks in the wood. Dancing on the floor like the people will when there is no war. Like my family will when—if—my brother comes home. Like they would have if I could go home. Hope would be returned to the hopeless.

But not for me. No hope. I am forever labeled as I am. 

A sob that sounds strange in the silence of the shed escapes me. Have I always been a coward? Does war break men or just reveal who they always were in the first place? 

Is this who I am? Is this who I will always be? 

No answers jump from the dancing light. No voice from heaven speaks comfort. No vision of my father reassures me of his love. Just a constant barrage of questions, tearing like gunfire. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Men were not made to kill each other. When will it all be over? 

With blood-encrusted hands, I fumble in the semi-darkness of the shed for something with which to pull myself up. My right hand grasps a rough piece of wood and I strain against the pain. Again! The wood snaps and leaves me a fistful of splinters as a parting gift. I lurch forward and stumble to my knees. Inhale and press my hands against the floor. Draw each foot under me until I’m crouched. I raise myself, reaching to grab the wall for support. My knees feel like they’ll buckle beneath me

A window strung with cobwebs on the other side of the room calls me. The dirt floor between us looks like a canyon to my trembling legs. Each step closer brings more light. I drink it up, closer, closer—there. I collapse beside it and sink to the floor. The rays of sunlight fall on my head. Were they dancing? 

Eyes close. I hope it is for the last time.


“Hello?” A strained voice. 

Vision springs to life, body retracts, heart jumps. 

The colors of the uniform throw themselves at me. The enemy. I stare up, eyelids straining. My hand half gropes for my gun, before I can remind myself that it is abandoned somewhere on a battlefield. My hand falls still and my eyes squeeze shut. I clench my fists. This is it. You die a coward. 

Silence. Heavy breathing. A crash of metal. 

I crack one eye open. He collapses to the floor next to his gun with a groan and lies still. 

Is he . . . dead? 

I slide myself with cautious speed to my knees and stare at him. He’s not moving. But it could be a trap. Like the one that killed my best friend. His face is turned away. My hands tremble, so I press them into the dirt. 

You can do this. 

Closer. Just a little closer. I’m right next to him now. I roll him over. Dark hair, wide brown eyes dart before resting on me. Unmoving lips. Not much younger than myself. In his eyes, I can see the same fear that grips my heart. 

I slip my arm beneath him, and with what little strength I have left, drag him to the wall and prop him against it. He starts to shake. His hands wrap like shackles around my fists, his trembling voice stutters out the words. “Please . . . please don’t kill . . . me.” 

I shake my head. Words sticking to my throat. I peel them off. “I won’t.”

His hands don’t loosen. He squeezes my wrists, but I don’t care. My hands wrap over his and squeeze back till the trembling subsides. His grip cracks open, bit by bit, then lets go, and he presses himself back.

I find myself speaking. I don’t know if he can even understand me. “It’s going to be all right. One day it’ll be all right.” 

It will be all right one day, it will, it will, it will. 

The soldier beside me is proof. Hands that would have killed each other only hours ago, joined. Something sparked inside. Hope. 

As the soldier drifts to sleep, I feel my muscles relax. 


Noise. Footsteps. My eyes open.

I see a man wearing the same color uniform as my own. I jerk back, my shoulder hitting a beam. He holds a gun and looks between me and my sleeping friend. 

I swallow. With a deep breath, I summon strength I don’t know I have. Press my knuckles to the floor and shift myself in front of the man on the ground. I press myself against his body. Brace for the shot. If I die, then so be it.  I close my eyes. The shot doesn’t come. The gun crashes to the ground.

Just three words: “It’s all over.” 

My eyes open. His hand is outstretched. A smile. He lifts me to my feet. I think, somehow,  it will be alright.

Run the Race!

and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. 

Hebrews 12:1-2

“Daddy!” A child’s cry breaks through the serene forest. A squirrel darts farther back into the thicket at the sound. 

The father breaks his steady pace just a few steps ahead of the girl. “Yes?” 

“Are we lost?” His daughter whines. “Why do we have to go here? I don’t like it.” 

A smile slips onto his face. He kneels on one knee like he has all the time in the world, and with his right-hand tips his daughter’s chin up to look him in the eye.  “We’re not lost.” It’s a confident tone, a tone of one who knows the road well and has no doubt of the directions. “I’ve been here before, sweetheart. I know the way.” He brushes strands of loose curls that have fallen into her face and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Just you wait till we get to the end. It’s worth it.”

He stands back up and continues walking. The pouting child trails behind him. 

After a few moments, the daughter’s dragging foot catches in an upturned tree root. With a gasp and then a cry, she falls onto her knees. In a moment, the father is right there beside her. He helps her up and brushes off the dust, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

They carry on for a little longer, until the girl stops by a large fallen tree trunk, blocking the path. She tries once to scramble over, but slips, leaving a long narrow scrape down her leg.

“It’s too hard!” She finally cries, tears springing to her eyes and rolling down her cheek. She crumbles to the ground, leaning against the rough bark that’s peeling off the dead tree. Her face is covered in streaks of dirt, the hair that was so neatly done in the morning now falls out of place, intertwined with bits of twigs and leaves. She buries her face into her knees and sobs.

An understanding smile of gentle compassion slips over the face of her father, as he kneels down once more and gathers her in his arms, holding her head against his shoulder. He lets her cry, waiting till the sobs have quietened before he whispers, “That’s why I’m here, sweetheart.”  He lifts her over the fallen tree, and with care, picks the leaves from her hair and brushes off the dirt. He sets her once more on the ground. Hand in hand, he leads her to the end of a path, to the edge of a cliff overlooking the most beautiful view. Golden light from the setting sun bathes the valley beneath, sparkling off the rushing water of the river that cascades over the rocks, throwing cool droplets into the air, landing on the grass by the bank. Tall dancing grass waves in the breeze, parting to the side for trees to grow out, long and twisting branches extending out covered in delicate leaves, giving shade and shelter. Fields of flowers and skies of clouds are all the eye can see. 

“This was worth it.”  The little girl whispers. The father agrees with a quiet, “I know.”

Well, this fictional illustration doesn’t compare to the reality of what it symbolizes.

The road we walk in life will be hard. 2nd Timothy tells us that we will be persecuted as a follower of Christ. 

We walk the road that Christ has walked, and we run the race that Christ has already won. 

Hebrews 12:1-2 is one of my favorite passages (I have quite a few). Why did He endure? For the joy that was set before Him. Why do we run this race and walk this road? For the joy set before us. 

Peter said earlier in 1st Peter 2 that we have been called to follow in Christ’s footsteps. Perhaps this was what Spurgeon was thinking of when he said;

Cheer up now, you faint-hearted warrior. Not only has Christ traveled this road, but He has defeated your enemies. 

C.H. Spurgeon

It’s not easy, but then He never said it would be. Look to the joy set before you.

Note: perhaps I should call this the “Spurgeon series” since I seem to quote him a lot…now there’s an idea.

Pray Until You Pray

Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually!

1st Chronicles 16:11

I’ve spent the night with close friends multiple times. Usually, we stay up way too late talking. The evening begins, sometimes with a film, and plenty of snacks. We laugh and talk about loads of stuff. But something I’ve found is that the later it gets, the deeper the conversation becomes. This might have something to do with being overtired and not really thinking about what we’re saying, as in the morning we’ll wake up and ask, “Hang on, how much did I say last night…?” But that’s beside the point, and for the sake of this illustration, we’ll leave that alone. 

So what is my point? I want to talk about prayer. One of the most important aspects of the Christian life.

When asked: “What is more important, praying or reading the Bible?’”I answer: “What is more important, breathing in or breathing out?” 

Charles Spurgeon

C.H. Spurgeon is one of many great Christian heroes. I’ve read several biographies on him and many other men and women of faith. They’re vastly different, in the lives they lived, and in the things they did. From George Muller out in the streets of Bristol to Amy Carmichael rescuing children in India, one thing I can find in common with them is that they prayed. And they prayed a lot. 

It wasn’t something they did for a couple of minutes in the morning and a couple before bed. It was a core and necessary aspect of their lives. I sometimes wonder how many hours, days, weeks, of their lives in total were spent on their knees, pouring out their heart to God. 

The sentence, “Pray until you pray” has stuck with me since I heard it. But what’s that supposed to mean? Isn’t it kind of a paradox? If you’re praying….then you’re praying, right?

Pray until you pray, could be, talk until you talk. Like my story of talking with friends through the night– the later we stay up, the more deep, heartfelt, and sincere our conversation becomes. 

This is often how it is with prayer. I can’t pray for about ten minutes and expect to have a deep and meaningful prayer life and relationship with God, just as I can’t have a ten-minute conversation with my friend and expect to know her in a deeper way. 

I need to get past all those barriers of general things that I always say and pray until I really pray. 

That’s my challenge to anyone reading this. This week, pray until you pray. But don’t let it stop at a one-off thing. 

What type of friend would I be if I had one deep conversation with a friend and then moved on with my life? Prayer needs to be a lifestyle, and lifestyles don’t just happen. They take time, effort, and consistency to build up. Keep praying until you pray, and you will see a difference. A beautiful and deep relationship will grow. The more you pray, the nearer God becomes. I’ll end with one last Spurgeon quote:

Nearness to God brings likeness to God. The more you see God the more of God will be seen in you.

Well, I’m back.

With trembling fingers, I type the last sentence. And there, the story that has taken nearly two years of blood, sweat, and tears (almost literally), has it’s final sentence. (Granted, it’s kind of the first draft, even though most parts have been re-written about five times, and I still have a TON of editing, but I don’t care right now ;)). 

So that was last night, at 21:40 or something. I stared at the screen for several moments, had a quick Skype call with an equally excited friend, before screaming into my pillow and wishing my family was not all sleeping so I could jump around or something. 

My apologies for a rather long absence, but I’ve been working on the above. I hope, whilst I take a short break before jumping into some vigorous editing, to be posting a little more. Though this is not my strong point and you must all be patient with me ;). 

Sooo…what do you all like to see on blogs? What types of posts interest you? Please tell me in the comment section, I’m compiling a list of ideas. 

What else have I been up to? 

Well, staying inside. Here in the UK, I believe we have just completed seven weeks of lockdown. Though all the days have kind of merged into…time. I’m not even sure anymore. 

Other than finishing my WIP (work in progress). I have been doing school, playing guitar and piano, trying to figure out how to work my camera and balance it *on the stabilizer that DID NOT COME WITH A MANUAL!!* 

Writing lots of letters, reading, more writing… oh, loads of video calls. 

Anyway, I will be attempting to come up with some new and interesting blog posts and some sort of schedule. 

I hope you are all  having a wonderful Wednesday (wait…is it Wednesday or Friday…?)

In Christ, 


Book Buddy Collab Tag

I was tagged (kind of) by Kaitlyn for this super fun tag! I got one of my amazing friends, Ellen to do it with me. The way it works is I answer the questions the way I think are right for Ellen on this post, and she’ll answer the questions for me on her blog. This was so much fun!

The rules:-Thank the blogger that tagged you. Thanks, Kaitlyn!

Link back to the creator.

Pick a bookish blogger friend to do the tag with you and contact them.

Coordinate so that your bookish buddy posts their part of the tag on the same day as you.

Be sure to link to their post/blog on yours!

Answer the questions given.

Comment on your buddy’s post to let them know how well they answered!

Tag five other bookish bloggers and give them a set of 10 new questions. (I’m just kinda skiping out on this, go ahead and answer the questions in the comments, or if you have a blog, consider yourself tagged.)

SO. Onto the really fun part–the questions!!

1. Who’s your buddy’s favorite author? 

Weeeeeellll, I sure know this, Mrs. Susan K. Marlow :). Right? 

2. What’s their favorite trope?

Oh, dear… Ummmm… no idea… Let me think… (Ellie, why don’t we discuss this??) Like… *racks brain* Nope. I got nothin’.

3. What’s (one of) their all-time favorite books?

Tales from Memory Creek Ranch. I know that! Woohoo! (Now won’t that be embarresing if I got that wrong…)

4. When is their favorite time of day to read?

Pretty sure she reads anytime… But favorite time? I’ll go with evening… ?

5. What is their favorite book-to-movie adaption?

I’d say Little House on the Prarie but, one, that’s a TV show, and, two, she hasn’t read the books! Oh, she’s not really a movie person so this is hard…maybe Courageous? Though that’s more of a book-to-movie adaption, I think… 

6. What is their favorite nonfiction books?

Well, the Bible, but I feel like that’s a given. Hudson Taylor’s Spiritual Journey. And then there was that book by Mark Hall that you showed me… I’m trying to remember which one, was it The Well? Thrive? Or Only Jesus… One of those, or all three…  I think. 

7. What are three of their favorite book covers?

Well, I know we both love Fawkes since it’s beautiful and deserves all the praise it can get. Then there’s Freedom, The Torch Keepers and Beloved… I’m I close?

8. Do they prefer series or standalones?

Thinking series here?Though I’d say it depends on the book, if it was awful, a standalone! If it was brilliant, we’d all be wanting more. So then a series. 

9. What movie or TV show reminds them of their favorite series?

Uhhhhhhhhhh….. No idea. Literally none. I do know her favorite TV shows, though! The Andy Griffith Show, Little House on the Prarie, and I Love Lucy, right? 

10. Are they a stay-up-until-morning-to-finish-the-book person, or a sleep-is-too-important person? 

Hmm, interesting question. I’d say somewhere in the middle? It would also depend on just how good the book was ;). 

Phew, that was stressful! I’m hoping I got at least half right, Ellie, how’d I do? *Dashes off to read her post*

Oops! *rushes back* Here is our ten new questions for anyone who wishes to join in!

  • 1). Who’s your buddy’s favorite main character?
  • 2). What’s their least favorite genre?
  • 3). Do they prefer contemporary or historical fiction? 
  • 4). Can your buddy listen to music while they read?
  • 5). Is your buddy a read-the-book-in-one-sitting person or a I’ll-read-it-later person?
  • 6). Who’s is your buddy’s favourite villain? 
  • 7). What is one of their least favourite books? 
  • 8). Where is your buddy’s favourite place to read?
  • 9). Is your buddy someone who can pick at all the faults in a book, or just read it, enjoy, and ignore the faults?
  • 10). What’s the thing that annoys them most in books?  

Have a brilliant Friday!


The Simple Writers Tag

Hello all! 

Today I have another tag,.The Simple Writers Tag! 

Here are the rules: 

1. Link back to the person who started the tag

2. List the ten “Simple Writer’s” questions

3. Tag as many writing friends as you’d like!

Thank’s to my friend, Ellen, for starting this tag!! 

The questions:

1. How do you like to write, by typewriter, pen, or computer? 

Computer. For the most part. Though I will often brainstorm with good old fashioned pen and paper.

2. Do you prefer to write in the first or third person? 

Oh, first. I love first person. Though third is great when it’s well done. It has a cinematic feel to it.

3. Do you enjoy doing one POV or multiple POVs? Ummm…well, I suppose it depends on the author. Not too many POV’s, but two is fine. Though I do prefer one.

4. What’s your favorite genre to write about? Christian contemporary? 

But within that genre is action-adventure :-). 

5. Who is your strongest writing supporter? 

My three best friends and my family :-).

6. What is one thing that gives you inspiration to write? 

Great question. One thing that tends to give me huge bursts of inspiration is movies. Good movies. They make me want to go write (and or film!) stories as powerful and brilliant as that.  

7. Do you like revision? Well, that’s a hard question. I like receiving my documents back from whoever edited it. Looking through the comments can sometimes be hard but every suggestion gives me new ideas to improve my story, which gets me super excited. Reading through stories countless times looking for errors is tough though.

8. Poems or stories? 

That’s just such an unfair question!!! Well, if I was pressed hard, I’d say stories. But I do love poetry, especially some of the old hymns.

9. Can you listen to music while you write? 

Yes. Most of the time. Sometimes it is distracting with lyrics, but I can usually deal with it. My favorites to listen to as I write are movie soundtracks, (War Horse, Lord of The Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and How to Train Your Dragon, are some of the best.) But a lot of the time it’s just whatever comes up on the youtube playlist :-). 

10. Present or past tense? I find present tense hard to write as I keep slipping back into the past (pun totally intended.) So I mostly write past, but I enjoy well-written present. 

That was a lot of fun!! 

I tag anyone reading this who loves to write, go ahead and answer in the comments :-). If you don’t write, go ahead and answer as a reader, (can you listen to music well you read? Etc.) 

Have fun! 


Fawkes by Nadine Brandes


Thomas Fawkes is turning to stone, and the only cure to the Stone Plague is to join his father’s plot to assassinate the king of England.

Silent wars leave the most carnage. The wars that are never declared, but are carried out in dark alleys with masks and hidden knives. Wars where color power alters the natural rhythm of 17th century London. And when the king calls for peace, no one listens until he finally calls for death.

But what if death finds him first?

Keepers think the Igniters caused the plague. Igniters think the Keepers did it. But all Thomas knows is that the Stone Plague infecting his eye is spreading. And if he doesn’t do something soon, he’ll be a lifeless statue. So when his Keeper father, Guy Fawkes, invites him to join the Gunpowder Plot—claiming it will put an end to the plague—Thomas is in.

The plan: use 36 barrels of gunpowder to blow up the Igniter King.

The problem: Doing so will destroy the family of the girl Thomas loves. But backing out of the plot will send his father and the other plotters to the gallows. To save one, Thomas will lose the other.

No matter Thomas’s choice, one thing is clear: once the decision is made and the color masks have been put on, there’s no turning back.

Wow. Wow, just wow. 

This book. 

*Breaths out* okay. Just saying, this book is in my top five favorites now. 

Okay, so I had heard a lot about this book as it was released. I looked at it but it didn’t really sound like my type of thing. Recently a friend recommended it to me so I finally decided to give it a go. 

I was hooked from the first sentence. 

I wasn’t ready to turn to stone. 

I don’t even know how to start. 

When I finished it I was left in speechless, in shock, awe, utter wonder/bewilderment. What did this author just do to me?

Okay. I need to stop ranting. 

Fawke by Nadine Brandes is refreshing. It’s different. I love how it is historical fiction, but there is the fantasy element (and I’m not even a huge fantasy fan!) 

The. Plot. Twists. Were. Amazing. 

Throughout the entire book I felt like I was Thomas, I was unsure, as he was, who to trust? One second I was (minor spoiler) for the white light, next minute I was against it. 

There was no info-dumping, gradually, as the story progressed, you understand. 

Let me just say, the writing is awesome, I am in love with the style. 

The characters were real they were flawed, human, imperfect. And I love that. On either side, Keeper or Igniter, there are seemingly good and seemingly bad. 

Wow, this book. I could go on, but I need to let you go and buy it, like right now. 

Let me end with this, it wasn’t preachy, in the least. The theme was so strong. 

What this book reminded me? This exert:

“I am not subjective. I am foundational.” 

I cannot express how much I loved this book. Go read it. Now. 

The Simple Things Tag

  1. Link back to the person who started the tag and thank them. Thank you, Camilla!
  2. Link back to the person who tagged you and thank them. Thanks, Ellie!
  3. List 5 simple things that make you happy with pictures.
  4. Tag one person. If you haven’t done the tag before, consider yourself tagged. 🙂

So, let’s begin.

  1. Doing this with my church, it’s always my favourite!
A snapshot from behind the organ on a church cleaning day.

2. Books. Oh books, especially ones with great covers.

Some of my favourites on the top shelf. 🙂

3. Guitars and pianos.

Sorry, I couldn’t get a good picture of a piano. So this one will have to do.

4. Old Hymns.

One of my favourites, but I have so many!

5. Making films with friends!

One of my little brothers at our most recent filming location.

Hope you all enjoyed that. I found it fun! Thanks again, Ellie!

Have a good week everyone!

In Christ,



Hello friends!

I have previously shared a scene from my current work in progress and today I thought I’d share some snippets with you all. You can go and read the full scene I have shared here: https://fromthenotebook.home.blog/2019/08/20/character-interview/

Quick briefing, the main character is Jonathan Courage. That’s all you’re getting for the time being…sorry, I’m not so good at sharing my writing!

Here are the snippets!

Why oh why did I have to include the bit about Nathan Hale? At least I didn’t mention that my great grandfather was a navy captain in WW2, at Dunkirk.

A friend helped with this one, I still luagh when I read it 🙂

“Cut him some slack, Alex, poor kid’s been through an awful lot.” Tom sent a glare at Alex.

“That doesn’t excuse him.” He muttered.

“I didn’t say that,” Tom replied, his voice still calm. “I just said to give him some slack.”

“When’s the last time you slept, Jon?” Tom asked, looking up from the desk, piece of toast in hand, a coffee mug next to him and the computer screen on.

“I don’t know,” I answered. Dropping into the chair next to him. “Give me that,” I muttered, grabbing the coffee mug and downing at least half of its contents.

Tom raised his eyebrows, “when did you start drinking coffee?” He commented, taking the mug back from me and taking a sip.

“Since I stopped sleeping.”

Tom snorted, “coffee doesn’t look like its doing you any good buddy, you look awful. Hey, do me a favor and don’t answer the door, you’ll scare whoever it is away for good.”

“Oh, haha. That’s hilarious, Tom.”

“What would it take to get you to sing?”

“A knife to the throat,” I answered without hesitation.

“Well, that could be arranged.,” Jason stood up.

“Jason!” Peter exclaimed.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Jason held his hands up in mock defense, “but seriously, all I want is to hear the kid sing.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Riley gripped my shoulders.

I shook his hands off. “What’s wrong with me?” I snorted. “Are you seriously asking that? I mean, what do you expect me to do? Fall into your arms, cry all over you and act like nothing ever happened?” My throat was tense as I spoke.

Might share this scene at some point…except it is a bit of a spoiler.

And to end with here is a bit of a longer one :-).

“Just stop!” I shoved Ryan against the wall with more force than I meant to.

A confused hurt look came onto his face, he rubbed his shoulder that had banged against the wall, “what are you talking about?”

“Stop trying to babysit me or whatever you’re doing.”

“I’m watching out for you!” Ryan glared at me.

“Well, stop it. I can take care of myself, I don’t need, ‘watching out for’.” I turned away.

“I’m just trying to be a good brother, Jonathan, I’m sorry if—”

“Well, you’re not my brother!” The words seemed to hit him like a blow.

“N-no,” Ryan stammered, “no, not by blood, but we don’t need to be brothers, Jonathan, being a brother is about—”

“Stop. Just stop.” I didn’t even attempt to mask the frustration in my voice. “The last thing I need right now is another one of your lectures, okay? You and, and, the rest of your family, you think you can fix things, that you know how I’m feeling—I’m sick and tired of it, okay? So, back off, and tell your family to do the same!”

“Hey, you are way out of line there, buddy, you better take that back!” Ryan’s laughing blue eyes flashed with anger, his fist clenched. I had gone a step too far by insulting his family.

“I’m not takin’ nothin’ back.” I drawled, glaring at him, for a moment I regretted my hasty words, but the regret was gone in an instant. “I’m stronger than you, y’know.”

That seemed to be all it took to push Ryan over the edge, he threw himself on me, knocking me to the floor. Fighting came naturally to me, not to Ryan. A full-blown fight erupted, we rolled on the ground, attempting to pin each other to the ground, he shoved an elbow into my chest and I gasped with pain before gathering the strength to get on top of him.

If it were not for the intervention of Mr. Rogers, I would have won.

Well, there you have it, friends. I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you all think, and if you have any questions, I’d love to hear them!

In Christ,


The 20 Questions Book Tag

Thanks to Ellen from https://musingsbyellen.blogspot.com for tagging me. Let’s get to the questions! 

1. How many books are too many in a series? Well, that would depend. If I like the series/author it could go on forever ;-). But it is annoying when something goes on and on and drags out so far that it ruins it. *cough, cough, Alex Rider, cough*. (Seriously though, book eleven ruined everything!)

2. How do you feel about cliffhangers? As I writer I love writing ’em! Though it isn’t always so fun on the receiving end. I have been a victim of many cliff hangers…as in, staying up till midnight because a book was that good and the chapters kept ending on cliffhangers!!! It is hard when a book ends in a cliff hanger and you’re in agony until you can get the next book in the series. 

3. Hardcover or paperback? Uhhhhhh…this is such a hard question. I suppose it depends on which book it is. I love Do Hard Things in hardcover, but I love my Douglas Bond books in paperback…

4. What’s your favorite book? I love so many books but one of my all-time favorites would be John J. Horn’s The Boy Colonel. But again, I have a bunch of favorites that get the top two shelves on my bookshelf.

5. Least favorite book? Hmmm, I have a few but the one that is most recently pressed on my mind is, the eleventh book in the Alex Rider series…Never Say Die…Sorry, I know I keep mentioning this but really! I was actually enjoying the series and then this came along and completely ruined it all! Perhaps I need to post a review for that book at one point…

6. Fiction or nonfiction? Well, fiction. But I do enjoy a fair bit of non-fiction. 

7. The most recent book you couldn’t finish? Hmmm, I honestly don’t know. I guess the first book in The Wingfeather Saga by Andrew Peterson? I still mean to read it at some point but I am having trouble with it…

8. A book you’re currently reading? I have about five. Still going through Left Behind, and re-reading a bunch of stuff.

9. Last book you recommended to someone? Imprisoned in Iran by Dan Baumann. 

10. Oldest book you’ve read? (publication date) The bible 😉

11. Newest book you’ve read? (publication date) Beloved by Kaitlyn Krispense or Freedom by Faith Potts. 

12. Favorite author? I have three, John J. Horn, Douglas Bond, and C.R. Hedgcock. 

13. Buying books or borrowing? Buying all the way! I have a huge bookshelf in my bedroom, stuffed with books. Actually, right now we are re-doing bedrooms, switching beds and what not so the books are in huge stacks…everywhere. 

14. A book you dislike that everyone else seems to love? Alex Rider Never Say Die…?

15. Bookmarks or dog-ears? Depends. Some books I would never harm in ANY way. But I’m not too fussy about dog-ears. I can never find bookmarks when I read. 

16. A book you can always re-read? Easy. The Boy Colonel. (I’m I the only one who thinks I am repeating myself?!)

17. Can you read while listening to music? I love music. Like, a lot. But no, I can’t listen well reading, cause I get so caught up in listening! 

18. One POV or multiple POVs? Again. It depends. John Horn, C.R. Hedgcock and a friend of mine are three people that I love reading multiple POVs from. But it depends on the author. 

19. Do you read a book in one sitting or over multiple days? I am a fast reader so it would depend on how interesting the book is! 

20. Who do you tag? Anyone reading this if you have a blog go ahead and answer them there. If not, please, answer them in the comment section, I’d love to hear your answers. 

Thanks so much for the super fun questions! Have a good week :-).


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