Into the Fire

Code Red is the final Mitch Rapp Novel for Author Kyle Mills. He's back to creating more of his own novels. It's bittersweet to see him step away, but Author Don Bentley is primed to take over the Mitch Rapp saga. 

Mitch Rapp is a man of his word among other things. In order to protect his love Claudia Gould, he had to deal with the devil – or one of his minions – the ruthless Damian Losa, who provided the information needed to prevent Claudia's murder. Rapp knew that one day Losa would expect the "favor" to be returned and that date came due with a trip to the volatile and shattered country of Syria. Posing as Losa's lawyer, his mission was to discover what a new even more powerful version of fentanyl contained and who Losa needed to negotiate with to merge their common interests of exporting drugs to Europe and the USA. 

Simple enough as hard and untrustworthy missions go, Rapp had no backup, not a single person who wasn't corrupted or could help, and nothing felt right about this mission once he was in country. Fortunately, there was one thing that went right and that was no one seemed to know who he really was until . . . 

Not a lot went according to plan, and when a scorching betrayal takes place, Rapp contemplates the possibility of impending doom. However, he is Mitch Rapp after all, and he figures when certain things fall into place, his debt is paid and he can call in the cavalry for assistance to put a stop to a very ugly and depraved operation run by a Russian faux-general. Organizing it depends on an individual who's had everything stripped away from his life including some of his brain power, but having been a very intelligent person in his past, his knowledge of elements of the plan and his determination to avenge all that was stolen from him, make him the logical choice for what is supposed to happen. 

Kyle wraps up this story with plenty of action from Rapp and his team, an uncomfortable Damian Losa, and a submissive faux-general. With Losa's discomfort there's an open door to possible future adversarial contact, but that will ultimately be up to Don Bentley as he begins his Mitch Rapp tenure. 

Wishing both Kyle and Don the very best in their writing endeavors. 

Father, you know the hearts of those involved in creating these novels. You give each one any and all gifts and talents. Thank you for the amazing talents of Kyle and Don and may each of them know from whom that talent comes. Bless them and their families and keep them safe from all harm. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Typical of the lyrics back in the day. Ambiguous and leading. Good band. 

Father, you know all hearts, always have, always will. Thank you for rescuing me, Lord. Can never thank you enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

One of the first questions fiction authors often hear once a person learns that they're speaking with an author is: "What do you write?" An author will answer appropriately describing the genre or genres which explains their type of novels. If the conversation progresses, the person asking questions might inquire how the author chose that genre or genres. 

I'm not sure I've ever been asked that specific question, but if I had been asked, I would have to say the genre chose me. Never once did I sit down to write that first book thinking I would write love stories – plural – or romance novels. Since I'm primarily a reader of thrillers, mystery, and suspense, it would seem more logical to me that I'd write in those genres. But, no. Romance is somehow in my blood, and if I do say so myself, I'm good at writing it.  

My one mystery (Race) has a romantic thread, but it's not the focus. It was difficult to write because it was a gut-level effort to get the police procedural correct enough that if any LEOs happened to read it, they wouldn't throw the book against the wall because of its ridiculous assumptions. I tried to give high praise to the detective at the time who helped and encouraged me. 

My heart is in the stories of love, the element of romance, the temptations, the flirtations, the chemistry, the hidden fears and dreads of falling in love.

             Raw Romantic Redemptive   Love stories with a passion. 

Father, only you provide my inspiration, characters, stories. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Hallelujah! 

     After this I heard what sounded like the roar of a great multitude in heaven shouting:

               "Hallelujah!

               Salvation and glory and power belong to our God,

                  for true and just are His judgments.

               He has condemned the great prostitute

                   who corrupted the earth by her adulteries.

               He has avenged on her the blood of his servants."

     And again they shouted:

               "Hallelujah!

               The smoke from her goes up for ever and ever."

     The twenty-four elders and the four living creatures fell down and worshiped God, who was seated on the throne. And they cried:

              "Amen, Hallelujah!"

     Then a voice came from the throne, saying:

             "Praise our God,

                 all you His servants,

              you who fear Him,

                 both small and great!"

Revelation 19:1-5 (NIV) 

This is the opening segment in Part One of my novel Seeing . . . 

PART ONE

Remembrance    

I was 8 years old when I saw Jesus Christ in the flesh. I ran off into the woods behind our house, and He was waiting for me when I stopped out of breath and started kicking up the pine needles and summer moss, my rough hands wiping the tears that weren’t supposed to fall for a boy my age. I picked up a dead branch and was about to heave it into the thicker underbrush and tree cover when I saw Him leaning against a thick fir. 

     I backed up so startled I tripped over forest debris and fell in my clumsiness, then scrambled awkwardly to my feet, never taking my eyes off Him. He didn’t move, but it was like I could feel the concern in His eyes. Those eyes reached out to me, although I’m sure his hands made no gesture in my direction. When I connected my fearful eyes with His, I stopped my thrashing and stood bolt upright—still as the air which had become inordinately silent. I wanted to rub my eyes, sure they were lying to me. Almost like that other time.

     I thought I glimpsed Him or Someone once before when I was 6 years old and hid myself in my bedroom closet just because I felt so alone. I wasn’t, but I ached that way. I remember I began to cry. It was when the muffled sobs erupted, a comforting hand rested on my shoulder accompanied by a whisper I couldn’t understand other than the scare I normally would have endured was absolutely absent, and the relief which pulsed through me gave me a calmness I couldn’t fathom in my young heart. I wanted to remain there then, no longer because of despair but because of this ally I’d somehow acquired. That time I looked toward where I thought the end of the hand would be, and all I saw was a glimpse, almost like an outline when you trace something on sheer paper. And although the peace of that comforting hand remained, the image was quickly gone.

Father, only you know our hearts and what inspires us to do those things you have designed just for us. Help us to be obedient to whatever you've called us to do. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

A very long time ago, playing with my Konica 35mm in black and white. Women's Fiction author Brenda S. Anderson dubbed these my original "selfies". Works for me. 

Father, thank you is never enough for rescuing me from myself quite a while after this picture was taken. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

It's that time again. Northern Idaho, here we come for a few days. 

Father, be with us and keep us safe from all harm. Thank you for this time. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Loved this group. Saw them live at the Eagles Auditorium in Seattle back in the day. 

Father, hearts need you. May each one who uses the talents/gifts you've given them realize it's you who gave them to them. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Confusion

Twirling images, darkness and evil

surrounding me like a death shroud.

Peace! I call with a whimper.

I sense it in a maze, a fog –

I can’t see!

You know me, don’t you?

Fear embraces me like a lover

with a toxic taste for my soul.

Will I ever be free?

Can I really live again?

A fatal sword lashes out –

I hear its swiftness

not aimed at me.

I fall to the ground, shaken.

Light glazes all that I see,

like a brilliant varnish.

“Stand!”

I stumble quickly to my feet.

“No more! You stand! Use what I’ve given you!”

Peace and shame cover me in light and dark.

Yes. I must.

Stand.

Father, no one knows our enemy like you do. You've given us everything we need to defeat him and yet we don't use your weapons. Forgive us and make us bold, Holy Spirit, in Name of Jesus, Amen. 

     Then a mighty angel picked up a boulder the size of a large millstone and threw it into the sea, and said:

          "With such violence

           the great city of Babylon will be thrown down,

           never to be seen again.

          The music of harpists and musicians, flute players

                     and trumpeters,

            will never be heard in you again.

          No workman of any trade

           will ever be found in you again.

          The sound of a millstone

           will never be heard in you again.

          The light of a lamp

            will never shine in you again. 

           The voice of bridegroom and bride

             will never be heard in you again. 

            Your merchants were the world's great men.

              By your magic spell all the nations were led astray.

            In her was found the blood of prophets and of the saints,

              and of all who have been killed on the earth." 

Revelation 18:21-24 (NIV)