The oh-so-lovely Vicki Trask from Aiden's Angels wrote a fabulous fan fiction story featuring Aiden and Lindsey that takes place at the end of Hell Transporter. I think she did a marvelous job capturing the love between them.
I wanted to honor her awesome creativity, so I decided that anyone who writes a fan fiction story of the Between series will receive a free ebook copy of Between from me to give away to a friend. Let's share the love of Aiden MacRae! Just send me the link to your story and your friend's email address and they'll get a copy for free from me.
Thank you, Vicki!
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Six-Year-Olds Ask The Best Questions
The other day, my six-year-old son piped up from the backseat, "Why do all the songs have to be about God?" I explained that we were listening to the Christian radio station and that's what they play. He seemed satisfied with the answer, but I was not. His innocent question has needled me ever since.
On Sunday, the pastor preached on holiness, which actually means to be set apart. He mentioned that we often segment our lives, that we are different people at church than we are at work, that we are different people with our friends than we are with our family, and so on. What is holy and what is whole?
I don't want to be set apart, exactly. I want to be one person, one God-loving person who is also living in this world, participating in the joys, sorrows, ups, and downs that God has laid out for me. I want to be fully present and whole, the same to my church friends as I am to the public, a person who loves God, but also loves food, sex, alcohol, laughter, dancing, singing, and great big bear hugs. I don't want to denounce the flesh he's wrapped me in, to pretend I'm someone I'm not, or that my thoughts are always pure. They're not. But He knows that anyway. I want to be the same person to the world that I am when I'm alone with God.
It's a scary and vulnerable thought, but there it is.
And I wish I lived in a world where there was no such thing as "secular" but that God was part of the mainstream, day-to-day existence of every one of us, not set apart in a corner by himself, but a dominant thread woven into the air that we breathe. Because when we break ourselves into different segments and only show pieces of the whole, it's bound to catch up with us. We're bound to hate one part (or more) because we all have sins that we struggle with. There's a reason we hate the "holier than thou" stance. We can't be good enough, and God knows that. But the greatest disservice we can do, the greatest dishonor we can bring, is to show up on Sunday and pretend to be whole when we're not, when we're only giving Him a sliver of ourselves. Lukewarm worship is no worship at all.
I don't want there to be a "Christian" radio station. I just want there to be music. I don't want there to be "Christian" books. I just want there to be books. Not all of the songs or stories have to be about God, but some of them do. Because God matters, as does all the rest of it.
On Sunday, the pastor preached on holiness, which actually means to be set apart. He mentioned that we often segment our lives, that we are different people at church than we are at work, that we are different people with our friends than we are with our family, and so on. What is holy and what is whole?
I don't want to be set apart, exactly. I want to be one person, one God-loving person who is also living in this world, participating in the joys, sorrows, ups, and downs that God has laid out for me. I want to be fully present and whole, the same to my church friends as I am to the public, a person who loves God, but also loves food, sex, alcohol, laughter, dancing, singing, and great big bear hugs. I don't want to denounce the flesh he's wrapped me in, to pretend I'm someone I'm not, or that my thoughts are always pure. They're not. But He knows that anyway. I want to be the same person to the world that I am when I'm alone with God.
It's a scary and vulnerable thought, but there it is.
And I wish I lived in a world where there was no such thing as "secular" but that God was part of the mainstream, day-to-day existence of every one of us, not set apart in a corner by himself, but a dominant thread woven into the air that we breathe. Because when we break ourselves into different segments and only show pieces of the whole, it's bound to catch up with us. We're bound to hate one part (or more) because we all have sins that we struggle with. There's a reason we hate the "holier than thou" stance. We can't be good enough, and God knows that. But the greatest disservice we can do, the greatest dishonor we can bring, is to show up on Sunday and pretend to be whole when we're not, when we're only giving Him a sliver of ourselves. Lukewarm worship is no worship at all.
I don't want there to be a "Christian" radio station. I just want there to be music. I don't want there to be "Christian" books. I just want there to be books. Not all of the songs or stories have to be about God, but some of them do. Because God matters, as does all the rest of it.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Fifty Shades of Funny
On the way home from a business trip recently, I sat next to an older woman and her granddaughter on the airplane. The woman was just a little ways into Fifty Shades of Grey, while her granddaughter was reading a YA novel. I asked the woman if she read much romance. She replied that Fifty was her first one! While I was absorbing that, she said, "Actually, I hardly ever read, maybe one or two books a year."
I explained to her that romance novels vary in the level of heat from sweet up to erotic and that she'd jumped into the deep end of the pool by picking this one up. She seemed a bit comforted by that, the thought that not all romance was at this level. I chatted a bit with the younger girl about YA novels, and then settled back in my seat for the remainder of the flight.
Grandma wasn't a very fast reader, I noticed, as I peeked over from time to time to see how far she'd read. By the time the five-hour flight was over, she'd made it to about page 200. Unable to tame my wicked curiosity (having read all three Grey books myself), I asked her what she thought of it. I'm not sure what I expected her to say, but the words out of her mouth about make me choke with laughter.
She frowned a bit and said, in all seriousness, "I think MEN should read this book."
Go, Grandma! LOL
I explained to her that romance novels vary in the level of heat from sweet up to erotic and that she'd jumped into the deep end of the pool by picking this one up. She seemed a bit comforted by that, the thought that not all romance was at this level. I chatted a bit with the younger girl about YA novels, and then settled back in my seat for the remainder of the flight.
Grandma wasn't a very fast reader, I noticed, as I peeked over from time to time to see how far she'd read. By the time the five-hour flight was over, she'd made it to about page 200. Unable to tame my wicked curiosity (having read all three Grey books myself), I asked her what she thought of it. I'm not sure what I expected her to say, but the words out of her mouth about make me choke with laughter.
She frowned a bit and said, in all seriousness, "I think MEN should read this book."
Go, Grandma! LOL
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