excerpts

An Excerpt: This Huge Space Inside Me

(Glossary note: Iosa is the Irish word for Jesus)

“What am I looking for?” I whispered.

Tyra pulled her blanket up to her chin and stared up at the thatched roof above us.

“Sometimes I feel like there’s this huge space inside me, wider and emptier than a starless night. Nothin’ I do can fill it up. Nothin’ but God, nothing but the grace He has given us through Iosa. That may not be what you’re looking for, but it’s what we all need, Sigrid. If it weren’t for God bursting inside of me, I wouldn’t be able to stand Ragnar. I’d run. He’d catch me and whip me. I’d run again. But with God, I’ve learned to have compassion on Ragnar. I’ve learned to fill up this void with Iosa’s love and His… strength.”

Tyra gave a gentle, rippling laugh. “God is good, Siri. He is so, so good. He gives me strength. He gave me the strength to tell Ragnar about Him. Ragnar hasn’t changed, but I have. And I pray someday he will change—and ye will, too.”

I said nothing.

“Good night, Siri. I love ye. Iosa loves ye.”

I closed my eyes, moving my tongue around my mouth. But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell her she was wrong about her god, about everything. She had felt something, but it was only a feeling; she had thought something, but it was only a thought. Her perspective on life was radically different than mine. Iosa didn’t love me. Iosa didn’t even know me! Tyra’s experience with Ragnar was awful, so she had to deal with it the only way she knew how.

Yet… my heart was touched by her love and her strength. It couldn’t have come from her god, but it was beautiful. It was a pity her beautiful soul was wasted pouring into the life of that wretched man. Would she ever realize her efforts to love him could never thaw his icy heart?

excerpts

An Excerpt: Mum’s Weaving

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Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

I watched her hands move skillfully, weaving the yarn through the taught threads. The monotony and delicate work reminded me of my mother. Dear Mum seemed to have Frigg, the goddess of motherhood, always at her side. When I was very young and I watched her weave, she’d simultaneously weave tales of how Frigg bestowed the gift of special yarn to mortal women whom she favored.

Frigg must have favored Mum. Her yarn looked no different from the rest, but whenever I held a blanket she’d woven I’d feel—oh, I’d feel things I couldn’t describe. Beautiful things that filled up and overflowed the wide, gaping emptiness inside me, just for a moment. Just for a moment I would feel alive.

Book, excerpts, Updates

An Update and an Excerpt

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Hey everyone! I have been working on sending query letters and book proposals to literary agents. I need a literary agent in order to present my book to good-sized publishing companies. Next week I am going to the Colorado Christian Writers’ Conference, where I will not only meet with other writers and learn a lot, but I may have the chance to present my novel to literary agents face-to-face! Prayers very much appreciated. ❤

And without further ado, here is an excerpt from my Viking novel, The Thrall’s Sword. Comment your thoughts! 

“I screamed as a wave crashed over me. The ship turned over, the dark mass smothering me, driving me down into the depths of the sea. My instincts took over, and I swam away from the ship, escaping the ship’s malicious urge to drown me. The current whipped me about like I was a mere strand of seaweed. I kicked my feet violently and paddled my hands as my father had taught me.

A wave roared above me, so I swam to the only safe place, deep under the water, holding my breath and sinking down into the cold silence of the sea. I squinted my eyes open. For a moment I forgot I needed to breathe, and I just stared at the beauty of the ocean—the undulating greens and blues of the water, the fish that were darting about, trying to flee the chaos the arrows had caused. Then I saw the ship sinking slowly, a cow drowning alive, and bright gold coins twinkling as they sunk along with the rest, journeying to the after-life. And I saw Mum falling slowly, her chest bloody from the sword, her brown hair wild about her—her beautiful, beautiful soul.

No more.

Sorrow overwhelmed me. But I couldn’t—I couldn’t breathe.”

 

 

Testimonials

Book Testimonials

 

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“The ocean had always been there for me, just as she had been there, as a hope, a reason to stay alive.” — Sigrid, The Thrall’s Sword

 

A huge thanks to these wonderful people who have read my book, The Thrall’s Sword, and given valuable feedback, along with these beautiful testimonials! I’m working on getting an agent to publish this thing, so keep a lookout for updates! =)

“The Thrall’s Sword is a powerful story of forgiveness, redemption, and healing. I love the Irish words, references to Norse gods, the character’s accents, but most of all – I am in awe of the weighty message this story shares. Iosa, or Jesus, can save anyone, and beauty can come out of brokenness.” – Olivia Giordano, blogger at https://livforhim.wordpress.com/

“Sigrid is such a relatable character! You’ll cry with her, question with her, grow with her, and celebrate with her throughout this vivid and moving historical novel.” – Brittany Meng, freelance editor and blogger at thebamblog.com and motheringbeyondexpectations.com

“I really enjoyed the book ‘The Thrall’s Sword’. It was not simply another tale of Vikings, adventure, and romance. It was written in such a way that brought the entire story to life, making the sights, smells, and experiences of the characters a reality in my mind. Through the subtle humor, terrifying happenings, and heart-wrenching moments, the novel was powerfully redemptive and brought a deeper level to the tale than most other books.” — Katie, Arizona