Into the Fire

Thinking back to my first novel Hope of Glory, I remember the prayer I said to the Lord and His very clear response: "I want you to write a Christian novel about horse racing." Succinct. Plain. His voice. The result of that was a saga, 700+ pages which took 8 and 1/2 years to write, produced by a start-up vanity press with little experience. The book is of course too long, amateurish, with some good writing, some not so great, and, yes, it would be much shorter, better written, and more professionally done if I wrote it today. But, I'm not ashamed of it because, if it does nothing else it captures the backstretch life of many racetrackers who make their way to the track one way or another. Through relatives, relationships, or seeking a life around horses as I did, all kinds of people show up working on the backside (barn area) to make horse racing tick. 

A key component in the novel is the worldly side of relationships established between the different layers of people who work in horse racing. When creating characters, my desire has always been to make them come alive, to seem real, like you either know them or know someone like them. That part of my writing appears in all of my novels. 

I will admit to the fact that in some parts of Hope of Glory the story can definitely get what unbelievers refer to as "preachy". Because of the minutia of details in the novel (yes, many of which could've and should've been eliminated), the "Christian" parts of the story are never vague. 

The point I want to make here on this "Wednesday Wanderings" post is this: I write real. Occasionally, that unfortunately offends some Christian readers. This results in a particular audience for my work that might not be the mainstream Christian reader who favors stories with that "Clean Fiction" label which, for me, is an oxymoron in Christian Fiction. Anyway, I certainly don't consider my work "unclean", but it takes a hard look at the world to contrast it to "the way, the truth, and the life" that is Jesus Christ. 

Raw  Romantic  Redemptive   . . .    I write love stories with a passion.  

Father, thank you for the words, the inspiration, the characters, the stories. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Before you get ideas that I'm celebrating Halloween with this number, let me tell you: I'm not. I have zero use for Halloween. None. It's a wicked "holiday". But some people try to make the best or most of it. This is a trio of songs from the Classic IV, and they were all good ones back in the day. So. Enjoy the music. 

Father, you know hearts, minds, souls. Only you save souls. Thank you for rescuing mine. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Romeo's Justice by James Scott Bell is Book 8 in the A Mike Romeo Thriller Series. 

Mike Romeo isn't looking for trouble, but if it comes to him, after trying to calm and distill it, he will finally decide to "bring it". In his quest for justice as his friend, attorney, rabbi, and former Mossad Ira Rosen's investigator, nothing is ever simple in their cases. Romeo's attempt to render justice often comes with violence interfering with his hard work. And their present case is no exception. 

A grieving mother who can't afford Ira Rosen has been told that her only son (Steven) has committed suicide in his room at a "spiritual" school that is clearly of the "woke" variety, making environmental robots of students with their man-made climate change dogma and other freakish "spiritual" gobbledy-gook theories. Ira insists on taking her case and Romeo sets out in his classic Mustang "Spinoza" to either confirm or deny that the boy killed himself.

His welcome to the school is "interesting" and he asks to see the dorm room where Steven was found. During his inspection he meets the janitor who appears to be handicapped, scared, and nervous. Romeo does his best to put him at ease.   

New leads pop up resulting in some more violence and back to Square One, but finally after Ira doing his "thing" with his research, a real lead starts to actually lead somewhere. Perhaps to a kind of justice?  

The Romeo Series is labeled a thriller, and there are definitely parts of these stories that are matched with that genre. However, there is yet to have a genre label to fit these amazing stories. Maybe "Sardonic Thrillers" or "Witty Noir Investigative Thrillers". I know: ridiculous. But the absolute wit and intellect of James Scott Bell shines to the max in these books, especially between him and Ira. I've read hundreds of thrillers, mystery, suspense, procedurals, and no author I've read can come close to duplicating their repartee in these novels. Romeo is as unique a character as can be found in any story, any era. And the only fault I can list in these stories is the moment I finish one of them, I can't wait for the next one which can't quite get here soon enough with Jim's multiple other writing diversions. 

Highly Recommend. Although each novel is essentially a "stand-alone", to get the ultimate experience of Mike Romeo's story, I do strongly suggest you begin with Book 1. Believe me when I say, they're quick reads and well worth the time it takes.

Father, you've blessed James so incredibly. Please continue to shine your face upon him and fill him up with the stories you have just for him to tell. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.  

     Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." 

     He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." 

     He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. He who overcomes will inherit all this, and I will be his God and he will be my son. But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the idolaters and all liars – their place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death." 

Revelation 21:1-8 (NIV)

This is from Chapter 16 of Seeing . . . 

Sixteen

Micah had one stop in Spokane and after delivery it seemed the tension in the truck built in the silence. His peripheral vision noticed Bonita repeatedly turning the rings on her fingers. Just before they pulled into the truck stop Micah suggested she climb in the back.

     "I don't want you to have to face this guy right off the bat if he's here. Okay?"

     She agreed without a sound and got in the sleeper.

     She's still scared. Lord, please don't let her see him for a while. And, God, I know I need to forgive him, but I really don't want to see the kid either. I'm not there yet. Help me.

     Micah pulled into the lot and found a spot in the back corner between two other semis. He hadn't seen Blaine's rig when he drove in and he'd surveyed the trucks as he drove through them before parking. He turned to Bonita.

     "Give me your keys, and I'll take your stuff to your car. Then I'll come back for you."

     She dug through her purse and handed the keys to him without protest.

     He smiled at her, an attempt to give her confidence. "Sit tight. I'll be right back." He gathered her stuff and packed it out of the truck. 

     Micah was on the lookout as he approached her dirty Honda but jolted when he saw the word "slut" finger-drawn through the dirt on her driver's side window. A surging rage blasted through him. He wanted to cuss out loud, but he calmed himself, feeling the Lord's attempt to still him. He set Bonita's things on the asphalt and took a deep breath. He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the window clean and walked around the car to see if it sported any more graffiti. He returned to his truck after securing her things in the car, watchful for the big green Peterbilt sleeper and its flatbeds. 

     "Ready to try this?" He gave her another smile, and she smiled back with a nod. 

     They walked through the lot and went in the back door to the cook's area. Jack gave her a big grin, and Rosie walked back just in time to see her come in, almost diving for her, securing her in a big hug. 

     "You're lookin' good, sweetheart," the roughhewn waitress said with a catch in her voice.  

     Jack nodded at Micah and added, "Yeah, looks like you been on vacation, girl."

     "I have. In paradise," she responded with a wistful smile and a glance at Micah.

     "Well, you go on home now, and if you want, you can start tomorrow. It's up to you." Rosie paused and took a quick look at the floor. "Probably the night shift would be best to begin with if you know what I mean."

     "That's fine, Rosie. I don't want to have to deal with him yet either. I'll be here tomorrow night."

     Rosie smiled at her and hugged her again. Micah followed her out to her car.

     "Why don't you start this thing up before I go? Just to make sure."

     Bonita seemed nervous now. She unlocked the door and climbed in, pumping the gas pedal once before turning the key. The old Prelude huffed to a start, a scourge of white smoke exiting its exhaust pipe. Bonita rolled down the window.

     "Good," Micah said. "Well . . ." Words didn't come, and he felt drained. Back to normal. Loneliness stuck him like a pin. He backed away as Bonita got out of the car.

     "You . . . I . . . I needed you, Micah Jones. Thank you for everything." 

     He barely heard her hesitant words because he couldn't take his eyes off her pale blues ones. Before he knew it, her lips tenderly pressed against his with a sweetness he hadn't experienced in so, so long. It took all he had to keep from pulling her into himself and allowing that kiss to expand and remain. Delicately she removed her mouth from his, tears apparent. She got back in her car and backed out. He looked down at the scarred and oily asphalt as she chugged away.

     He had planned to go inside and have breakfast but instead he walked back to his rig and drove to his next stop.

Father, you give me words, characters, stories. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Top picture is of a 2 yr. old one-eyed filly called Evil Curse ready to go to the paddock. Dutch Holt is paddocking her for me because she was a handful and washed out terribly, but she could run very fast. 

Second picture is me with a 2 yr. old colt by the name of Perpetual War, nicknamed "Spooky". He didn't get to a race as a 2 yr. old. 

My first year at the now defunct Longacres Racetrack. Loved it. So sad that it's no longer there. 

Father, Longacres holds many memories for me, both good and bad, but the best one is when you rescued me from myself and saved my soul. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Awesome live performance. Christopher Cross and his band with Michael McDonald once from The Doobie Brothers. 

Lord God, you know every one of us. Nothing gets past you. We're all desperate for you whether we know it or not. Please gather those whose hearts are still open. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Uppercut by Mark Dawson is Book 22 in the "A John Milton Novel" Series. 

John Milton is back in Dublin searching for clues on the Group 15 agent who betrayed Control and her party of agents plus Milton in Russia, leading to the capture of Control. He's fairly certain he's going to somehow have to find where Control was taken, if she's still alive, and rescue her since he now knows the woman who betrayed them all lied about it and has risen in the ranks of Group 15. Ziggy Penn, computer genius, who's helping John however he can, has found the ex-husband of the agent in order to gain more information about her. Interference with their plans results in a war between Irish mob leaders over two cage-fighters, one of them being the son of one mob leader.

When a dirty cop gets in deep with the mobster whose son is set to fight his rival's choice in the MMA competition, the gangster "Gallagher" wants his son's opponent and the agent that chose him over Gallagher's son dead at the weigh-in, a gala event at the hotel owned by his rivals, the Dillon Brothers. The cop uses blackmail to convince a trying-to-go-straight felon to do the deed. 

Milton is once again working under the alias of Eric Blair as a chef and will be pulled from the kitchen on the night of the big event because there are too few waiters to meet the obnoxious needs of the large gathering. As he's tending to impatient customers, he spots the man with a gun, everything goes haywire, and two people wind up dead. In the midst of the craziness, John hustles a young girl away from the chaos and upstairs to the apartment of a woman with whom he works. She agrees to help the girl until they can find out who she is and where she belongs since she can't or won't speak.

In the meantime, Group 15 is searching for John and are closing in on locating him. The dirty cop wants the young girl for Gallagher to use for leverage, but John figures something is off with the cop and spirits the girl away with help from the woman. 

There's a lot going on in Uppercut, but it still feels like an interim story which will lead to Mark's next Milton novel Bloodlands. Milton's on the run again along with Ziggy, and now he knows for sure he's being pursued by Group 15 because of the lies told by the traitorous agent. This story sports mobster stereotypes with a twist and some latent justice, a Group Agent who lies to herself about her need to be a traitor, and some less than noble Dublin police. 

I'll be looking forward to Bloodlands in hopes of a rescue for Control and real justice for the traitorous agent.

(Some profanity.) 

Father, you know all hearts and minds. Nothing surprises or gets past you. Please continue to bless Mark and fill him with stories you have just for him to tell. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.  

     When the thousand years are over, Satan will be released from his prison and will go out to deceive the nations in the four corners of the earth – Gog and Magog – to gather them for battle. In number they are like the sand on the seashore. They marched across the breadth of the earth and surrounded the camp of God's people, the city He loves. But fire came down from heaven and devoured them. And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever. 

     Then I saw a great white throne and Him who was seated on it. Earth and sky fled from His presence, and there was no place for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books. The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what he had done. Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death. If anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire. 

Revelation 20:7-15 (NIV)