It has come to my attention that maybe people are uncertain about my story. They think dragons or talking animals or anything unBiblical, but my story is far from that. I have read Christian fantasy too. My favorite is called the Awakener by Amanda Strong. The gifts her characters possessed is used to defeat the demons that they face. They each have a guardian angel. Another book I love is called Exile by Rachel Starr Thompson. In both books hey battle demons, but in this last one the demons possess people and they have a hive. The heroes are known as prayer warriors but they fight with their gifts.
In my book, the main character and her sister just wants a normal life, but because their mother is an outlaw from another dimension, they are always on the run--especially when her younger daughter has nightmares about her people called the Yaphe. Both Serene and her sister possess gifts that neither of them wants and both end up as ransoms for their mother. This is where they learn more about their mother than what their mother had told them.
Below is an excerpt from my story I hope to publish this summer. Sometimes dreams come as warnings. We ran. The sound of footsteps not far. I grabbed my sister’s hand and led her down a dark path surrounded by willow trees, with only the light of the moon lighting our path and the leaves crunching under our feet. The clearing was not far, and we carried on. Their voices faded and we arrived. As I pushed the leaves of the willow trees aside, I lost my breath at the glorious city, much like the description of heaven. As I admired this city and contemplated whether to go on or not, my ears picked up the sound of footsteps again. “Serene, someone is coming!” Faith yelled. “Good Morning! It’s a beautiful day here in Oregon City! Let’s start the six o’clock hour with Speak Life by TobyMac!” My clock radio woke me from my sleep. My chest fluttered as it was another day to learn from my teachers and meet my friends. I turned off the radio and grabbed my robe before I headed for the shower. As I showered, I reflected the nightmare turned dream. It was a nightmare because people chased us but dream because of the golden city at the end. Who were those people who chased us? Was that the New Jerusalem? My heart skipped a beat. Do sixteen years-old dream like that? The chasing in my dream was much like my life. Did we move because someone chased us? If so, why? When my sister had nightmares, we relocated, not right away, but it happened three times in the last ten years. We’d live like nomads and we were far from normal. As a teen who had only known Jesus for three years, I had prayed it would stop, but we kept moving. Doesn’t God answer prayers anymore? “God, are we moving again?” Why I bother asking Him, I don’t know. I couldn’t help but sense it would happen.
Stepping out, I dried myself and put on my robe. On my way to my room, I stopped to admire my mother Lily Thompson as she brushed her long brunette hair. She had a beauty that surpassed all others, and it was rare. Mine was much like hers, but I’m more like your typical teen then any beauty queen that stepped on the stage to take her crown. “Good morning, Serene. Ready for school today?” She smiled as she noticed my reflection in her mirror. “Yes, I am.” I responded. “As soon as I’m done dressing myself.” I left her room and walked to mine. My throat closed up. So much about my mother I didn’t know. I never met her parents or any of her relatives. Where did she come from? My mother met my father in Canada where I was born. Was she also Canadian? Was she ashamed of who she was? What was grandma and grandpa like? Did she even have parents? Nevertheless, I admired her for her beauty, and I loved her. I just wished I knew more about her side. Her past seemed mysterious. “Breakfast in thirty minutes.” My mother walked past my room. I put on my knee-length white dress with short sleeves. My wardrobe consisted mostly of dresses and skirts, although I have a couple of pants, I had no complaints except for not having a boyfriend like the one my sister had—she was only fourteen! I walked out to the kitchen where my mother took down our cereal bowls. Around here, our breakfast consisted mostly of cereal and egg dishes…she fried nothing. I went to get the milk out of the refrigerator and handed mom the milk. “You’re beautiful as usual. What is your secret?” I asked in hope for an answer. “Jesus.” She noticed Faith who was sitting at the bar. “Good morning, Faith.” My father came in wearing a dark brown suit and a blue tie—He looked great as he came in and gave my mother a kiss. “I’ve a meeting to go to at lunch.” My mother frowned. “No problem. Maybe I can see Sister Elaine today.” Sister Elaine was mom’s friend from church who was in the Women’s Ministry with my mother. My mother also gave my father an ominous look that made my stomach churned like butter. “I need to talk to you later when you get home.”