The Great Contagion follows an ancient, sharp-witted cat with a human soul who helps a man confront a deadly sickness sweeping the land. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The idea for The Great Contagion came to me when I was working on Cat Sidhe, another novel in The Merliss Tales series. Cat Sidhe takes place about fifty years after the events in The Great Contagion. I mentioned that the results of a great plague were still visible at the time of Cat Sidhe. After calling attention to this plague numerous times, I decided that I needed to find out what had happened. The result of that exploration was The Great Contagion.
More interesting is the idea for Merliss herself who is based on a real feline. A very thin, sickly, gray cat showed up on our driveway one Saturday and tried to get into our breezeway. We gave it some food and then took it to an emergency vet. The cat had no microchip and was not terminally ill. She was suffering from a respiratory infection, an eye infection, malnutrition, and thousands of fleas. In other words, she needed antibiotics and TLC. A few hundred dollars later, we left the vet with a new cat named Smokey, who was the sweetest lap kitty you can imagine. We never knew how old Smokey was, possibly pushing twenty. She spent her last two and a half years being spoiled by us. Thanks to Smokey, I felt inspired with the idea for an ancient gray cat in a fantasy setting.
What drew you to writing a fantasy centered on healing rather than conquest or warfare?
Many fantasy stories centered on conquest and warfare focus on protagonists occupying the upper strata of society. If you want your characters to directly influence events and you’re dealing with politics and warfare, the characters will need to be in positions of power. I wanted to write stories about characters outside the circles of political and military power and show them dealing with events outside their control, struggling to have an impact on their environment. The healing arts are one area in which a relatively low-status character can impact many others, including high-status characters. Healers also travel through villages and the countryside as part of their work.
How do you build tension in a story that unfolds at a measured pace?
The Great Contagion is composed of numerous subplots that interact and conflict. Some of the subplots center on conflicts and problems related to the people. Others revolve around Merliss, the old gods, and other magical creatures. There is also a subplot involving Merliss and the local cat population. All the subplots are tied together by the contagion, and Merliss is a witness to all the events described. I build tension by staggering high points from the various subplots and planting seeds to set the stage for later scenes of intense action. The level of action increases throughout the book.
What is the next book you are working on, and when will it be available?
The next book in The Merliss Tales series is The Forging of Merliss. The origin tale, this novel is set thousands of years in the past and will tell how Merliss’s spirit came to occupy the body of a cat. I hope to release this book by spring 2027.
Plagues kill but Merliss has far more to fear than a disease.
Merliss is no ordinary cat. She’s a young girl’s spirit trapped in a cat’s body. While the magic that banished her has snatched away her ability to speak to humans, it has given her a life spanning millennia. For centuries she has lived with the cunning folk, assisting their efforts to heal the sick and ward off malevolent creatures. Now a bleeding sickness has thrown the medieval community into chaos.
The cunning man Hailaird and his apprentice Fendrel are in danger from the disease. The life Merliss has worked so long to build is in jeopardy. Before she entered the cat, she had trained to be a shaman. Do her centuries of experience hold a secret to a cure? But disease isn’t her only nemesis.
A pair of malevolent creatures have crossed the moor into the forest, threatening more havoc. With disease and monsters ravaging the land, Merliss is hard-pressed to survive. It couldn’t be worse, until a mob looking for a scapegoat turns its wrath on Merliss. Tooth and claw and magic may not be enough.
Into the Fire follows a princess imprisoned for her rare gift of controlling Fire and Water Einn, whose escape sparks a journey of self-discovery. What draws you to the fantasy genre?
Fantasy is not bound by reality. It’s a creative way to use words teaching morality: Good versus evil. Spiritual lessons disguised in magic systems. Symbols that represent so much more. Hidden meanings.
Huldar has a rich mythic atmosphere. What were your influences when creating the setting?
The Bible. Iceland folklore Hidden People: Huldufólk.Stuðlagil Canyon, located in East Iceland. Admiral Richard E. Byrd the hollow earth map.
The novel often suggests that resentment is easier than hope. Why did that idea resonate with you?
It’s easier to hate. To hold on to resentment. Real strength is found in change. Ascending upward away from hatred. Leading to hope and to the last book of the series End of Joro.
Can you give us a glimpse inside the second book in The Huldar Chronicles? Where will it take readers?
The prequel. To the beginning, to pain. Out of the Water. Svaryur and Drifa’s story. What led to all the chaos of Into the Fire. Pain influenced purpose.
Sigrun and Aron are living in a fallen world, Huldar, that has turned into utter chaos. The Ljos and Dokkur Kingdoms could start a new war at any moment. Magical powers of Einn and a stranger from the past hold the keys to the future. Fire will meet Water with consequences. Will they ever find peace? Will they be able to overcome the curse of human nature?
Reel Around the Fountain follows a boy from a working-class family navigating his growing awareness about his own sexuality as he searches for answers about his family’s past. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The core of the book’s genesis wasn’t so much about family history as it was about examining how queer kids are often targeted by predators. Queer kids tend to be good at keeping secrets — at blending into the background, into the walls — and I wanted to explore and expose that. The intersection of queerness and working-class, paycheck-to-paycheck life creates conditions predators can take advantage of. That intersection wasn’t something I saw represented growing up, and it’s still not something I find often, but I wanted to portray it with fairness and affection. It’s a world I know well, and I wanted to honor it.
But I was equally interested in family dynamics, and how those dynamics create room for people like priests to exploit queer kids. As I structured and wrote the book, though, the family itself started to take over. I felt it was important to show that kids from poor backgrounds aren’t exploited because of some lack of love or parenting — it’s that society creates the conditions that marginalize working-class families in the first place, and predators find the cracks in those conditions.
The story captures working-class life with remarkable specificity. How important was it to portray that community with both honesty and affection?
This was extremely important to me. I didn’t want to pander, stereotype, or romanticize working-class life and people. It was key to me to examine how we pull the levers we have access to in this life — and sometimes that may not be many levers at all. In addition to this, I wanted to explore gender roles, and how working-class life is often misunderstood to be rigidly gendered when, in fact, that isn’t always the case. With the grandparents in particular, I wanted to examine masculinity and femininity as a spectrum, not a binary norm. The grandfather and grandmother expose how circumstance often dictates what gender expression in family caregiving actually looks like.
Working-class life also often starts earlier than other facets of life do. White-collar, wealthier kids get a different kind of upbringing — more protected, more cushioned. Working-class kids shoulder different burdens, and shoulder them sooner. Through JP and his family, I wanted to explore that. I also wanted to highlight how the institutions that are supposed to protect people — police, social services, hospitals — often aren’t trustworthy, or aren’t there for people like JP’s family when it counts.
JP slowly learns that every family member remembers the past differently. What does the novel suggest about the relationship between memory and truth?
In any love circle — the one you’re born into or the one you build — stories are told by the storyteller, not recorded by some neutral archivist. As a storyteller myself, I can’t count how many times I’ve sat across from someone I love and found we remember the same event completely differently. I like that. And I know my version isn’t absolute truth. Instead, it’s a form of characterization. So while JP is trying to piece together the story of his birth, that search is also a way for him — and for the reader — to understand each family member through how they tell it. Every version of the story reveals as much about the teller as it does about the event.
I also think it’s important that truth, for the individual, is shaped by survival, not accuracy. What we remember is what we can handle remembering — what lets us survive the day, and the times, we’re living through. JP’s quest for the truth of his birth shows that we can never fully know it. Memory is fluid and fleeting. That’s part of the human condition. I hope that by the end, the reader is still left without the full truth of his birth story — but with the understanding that each storyteller’s memory reveals something about them, not about the events themselves.
What do you hope readers take away about family, forgiveness, and the stories we inherit?
We inherit stories, but since stories are fluid with memory, and truth is subjective, how we choose to shoulder and carry the burden of those stories matters. The truth of a story changes and evolves as we change and evolve as human beings. That’s key to this novel. We inherit family burdens, and those burdens are carried differently as we move through — and change within — this world. I want to be deliberate here with the word change instead of grow. Shouldering the burden of stories isn’t a progressive climb toward growth; it’s up and down, like every other facet of life. Where we are — reacting to outside circumstances — shapes our truth and our memory in that moment.
Forgiveness is a big part of this story, but for me as a writer, what mattered most was that JP needs to forgive himself — for the blame he’s chosen to inherit, both for the weight of his family’s beginning and for the abuse by the priest. If we can’t first forgive ourselves for things — even things that were never our fault, but that we assume blame for anyway — we can’t truly forgive the people closest to us.
His father took a drunken fall in the shower and never walked again. His mother walked out of the maternity ward and never looked back. His grandmother gave up her dream job to keep the family afloat. Everyone said JP’s birth ruined their lives-but no one ever explained why. Now thirteen, JP is determined to uncover the truth. Between visiting his father in a nursing home, sneaking whiskey gingers with his older sister, and serving at Catholic funerals for tip money, he pieces together the family mythology surrounding the day he was born. What he finds is messy, funny, cruel, and unexpectedly tender: love warped by guilt, superstition, and survival. Set in a fading cereal-factory town, Reel Around the Fountain is a queer coming-of-age novel about music, mythmaking, and growing up under the weight of being blamed for everything that went wrong.
Grace Notes follows an anxious young man who desperately wants to understand why he feels disconnected from himself and others, and whether faith can offer him a place where he truly belongs. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
My life. This book started off as a memoir then morphed into fiction when I realized adding some spice, i.e. fiction, made for a tastier dish, i.e., story. Calling it autofiction is appropriate.
Music plays an important role throughout the book, and the title Grace Notes carries both musical and spiritual meaning. What does the title represent to you personally?
We are, all of us, grace notes in God’s Symphony.
Is a grace note essential to the piece of music or expendable?
That’s the tension I try to maintain throughout the book until its climax in Jerusalem. The tension is established with the conversation between Adam and Jerry on a dorm rooftop when Adam decides that grace notes are expendable, therefore life is meaningless and Jerry’s counterpoint conversation with Andy, who has just attempted suicide, and Jerry advocates that grace notes are essential, so encourages Andy to play his note with all his heart.
Rog, Barbara, and several other mentors leave a lasting impression on Jerry’s life. Were any of these characters inspired by people who helped shape your own journey?
Yes, absolutely. A few years ago, I finally mailed Rog—I was not able to track down an address for Barb, and they had divorced after they left Tenafly—a thank you letter for how much he had really saved my life and introduced me to a world grounded in unconditional love.
Is there a lasting message you hope readers will carry with them after finishing Grace Notes?
In a word: hope. Life can get better. Life can be good. And encourage readers to follow the path with their name and only their name on it towards knowing and accepting who they truly are. It truly is a journey worth taking, always hearing Joseph Campbell’s quote: The privilege of a lifetime is to be who you are. And when you find who you are, there you will find God as well.
As James Baldwin wrote, “You don’t have a home until you leave it.” This isn’t your grandma’s faith journey. It’s Christianity with the gloves off—blisteringly honest, irreverently soulful, and deeply human.
Grace Notes is a spiritual, coming-of-age epic. From a panic attack at a high school party to an emotional reckoning in Jerusalem, Jerry’s path to belief doesn’t follow tradition—it shatters it. Along the way, he stumbles through trauma, seminary, sex, activism, burnout, mysticism, and piano solos that speak when words fail. He loses the trail more than once, but never stops searching for home—spiritual, emotional, and physical.
Marked by raw confession, unexpected grace, and gut-punching moments of revelation, Grace Notes explores what it means to confront your past, embrace your brokenness, and find God in the places you least expect. For readers who are spiritual but skeptical, wounded but seeking, this is the story of how one man’s messy, aching search for belonging leads to belief and the home for which he has always yearned.
Lawton Passage follows a man from his childhood in small-town Tennessee through the joys and hardships of adolescence, college, and adulthood, and through grief, and back to his hometown. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
In 1990 my Mom got it into her head to write her autobiography after spending a week with my Dad at a Lawrence Welk Resort out in San Diego. After many years of working through her stories, she had a partial draft readied, and declared to her four kids (with me being the youngest), “Each of you need to write your own stories.”
That’s when I began writing what I entitled “The Wavettes” which I shared with my siblings and my parents. The first one covered our strategies to get my parents to stop smoking. Another one was a collection of memories of all our pets that we lost to the highway. A third recounted my exploits in learning how to drive, and the fourth one talked about my early impressions about religion. My dad wouldn’t say whether or not he liked that one, he just said he didn’t quite know what to make of it. I felt that as a kind of disapproval that I indicated that I should be all in about religion around my Dad.
What was really nice about the Wavettes period in the development of Lawton Passage was that these were stories that my parents got to see before they passed away. The sixth and final Wavette was a kind of therapy piece for myself after being with my dad during the last week of his life. It was in that story that I recounted how my cousin told me the night before my dad’s service that his parents used to get into the biggest fights every season whenever the annual Christmas newsletter arrived. “You can’t write that!” Mom told me on the phone after she read the story.
That was the day I discovered the prominence of the annual Christmas newsletter in our family, and that I wasn’t supposed to tell any interesting truths, if they happened to be inconvenient.
Looking back, was Liam’s emotional journey always clear to you, or did it emerge gradually as you wrote?
When I began I just thought it would be Liam’s stories all told with a bit of humor. Except for the very last one (which is not in Lawton Passage), the Wavettes tended to be funny, light-hearted, and tongue-in-cheek. Once I reached the period where I would write about junior and senior high school, the tone had to deepen to stay real because tragedy began to enter the environment. I felt this keenly when my childhood friend passed away at the age of 46, but it would take another ten years before I began writing it down because these were stories that I had kept from my parents. I waited until my Dad was gone and my Mom was under the cloud of Alzheimers before setting pen to paper on that segment.
The journey further deepened in 2021 when Liam returned to Lawton to attend the funeral of his cousin during the time of Covid. So many had been lost, so it became a reflection of not only the loss of friends and family, but also the loss of home. It wasn’t really until I had written it all down, and edited the book again and again and again and … well, you get the picture … that I realized that the end of the book was all about getting closure. Closure with the bridge incident, closure with leaving home, closure with being right with Dad and closure with being right with Mom.
The Christmas newsletters provide a fascinating frame for the novel. What inspired you to use them as a storytelling device?
Most of the stories had already been written before I ever thought of using the Christmas newsletters. I realized they had a special prominence on that day when Mom had said “You can’t write that.” Then I discovered a bound set of newsletters from Dad in a stack of papers in the entertainment center in 2021. It was a couple of months before my siblings and I were scheduled to meet on my birthday at my parent’s gravesite to bury their ashes.
We’d already spent most of our sadness regarding our loss of each of them during their first services years prior. The burial of their joint ashes took on more of a tone of celebratory closure. So I found choice excerpts from Dad’s newsletters about each of us kids, and told a funny story that contrasted with the innocent image that Dad portrayed in the newsletters. I read those over their ashes so we could all share a good laugh the day they were buried. Those excerpts found their way into Chapter 51 of Lawton Passage —- “Wind-Up.”
As I began dividing up my work on Lawton Passage as individual short stories to be released as Lyle’s Weekly Reader, I thought it would be cool to put a fitting excerpt from my Dad’s newsletters to begin each of those stories that depicted a period before junior high school. For junior high school and beyond, I did not initially use excerpts from the Christmas newsletter. Instead I began those stories with excerpted stanzas from rock and roll songs which were current during that day. However, when I learned that I could run into royalties issues, I dropped that idea and used excerpts from the Christmas newsletter all the way through.
Are there more stories from Vale Hollow or Liam’s world that you hope to tell?
The initial draft of Lawton Passage ran approximately 80 pages longer with a section called “Embarkation.” I felt the inclusion of that section would make Lawton Passage too long and would push publication of the book into 2027. The story involves my final days with my dad in hospice. To extend the content to make it a fuller book, I am exploring taking material from three interviews I videotaped with my dad about his life before I was born.
Another story option I am considering would be a fantasy, which would involve time travel between the current day and 1976 in Lawton, Tennessee. It would draw on high school characters introduced in Lawton Passage and intersperse them with a modern-day cadre of armchair philosophers and a wealthy entrepreneur. Together they would travel back in time to stop the murder by a chicken farmer of his wife with a wooden coat hanger.
In Lawton, Tennessee, the truth of growing up rarely fits neatly inside a Christmas newsletter.
Tim Duning’s Lawton Passage follows Liam, a boy raised in his ancestral country home built in the 1840s, as he adjusts to small-town rituals, and the quiet pressures of Southern life during the 1960s and ’70s. Through thefts and schoolyard hijinks, swimming pool accidents, séances, paper routes, and first loves, Liam navigates a childhood and adolescence shaped by faith, family, and friendship—always measuring the perfection his father presents against the messy realities he experiences.
From the explosive humor of sabotaged cigarettes to the tragedies of peer loss, the memoir captures the grit, grief, and laughter of growing up in a town that refuses to stay small. Forty years later, Liam returns to Lawton, tracing the echoes of his past, realizing that home and family live most vividly in stories, not land. Lawton Passage is a poignant, funny, and deeply honest meditation on legacy, memory, and the Southern art of storytelling.
How the Winterlilies Grow follows a young woman desperate to save her mother, who sets out on a journey for a healing flower, meeting with tests of courage and spiritual challenges along the way. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
My desire is to return morality and Truth back into storytelling. I love fantastical media and learning more about theology. Specifically, I am obsessed with the movie about Rapunzel. Adventure, comedic quips, warmth, seeking belonging alongside beauty, the imagery of a magical healing flower. In this world, the flower isn’t magical, but rather a representation of elemental things created by God like medicine. God heals and doesn’t heal for reasons unknown, but they are reasons that are just. In this book, I wanted to showcase healing with medicine, healing by the creator, a time that the creator doesn’t heal, and how we can strive in the waiting. I wrote this book during a time of my own sickness, and I didn’t know if God would heal me. It was a time when I clung to my faith as my body whittled away, and I could no longer eat food. I wanted to write a story where the reader can find value in most lines whether they relate to Aradella’s pain or Lykke’s clumsy joy or Giselle’s sickness, daydream about visiting Thiddlestacks and Frosty Halo, find resilience like the Hunyljavekians, enjoy the many creatures, and learn about a creator who some claim to be absent, but is actively providing. I wrote this book for fantasy lovers, those grieving or dealing with church hurt, for those questioning God. Ultimately, this story was written intentionally with an engaging storyline and I am eager for people to read it.
The novel features dwarves, goblins, sirens, enchanted weapons, and hidden gardens alongside spiritual lessons. How did you balance classic fantasy elements with the book’s faith-centered message?
This is a fantastic question and one that I thought a lot about. God has given us the gift of imagination because he is an imaginative God, so both imagination and creation are a reflection of Him. These are fun elements to use, and we forget a fruit of the spirit is joy, so it is alright to bring joy to others and play and entertain. That being said, In literature, I am wary of the normalization that magic is a good tool and a way to solve problems. I tried to be intentional that magic and enchantment was used by those who do not know the creator while those who are followers of the creator relied on gifts of the creator like imagination, engineering, peace, prayer, teamwork, and intelligence. Fantasy is the vehicle to spread the gospel and talk about God. How the Winterlilies Grow is the perfect book for Christian parents to use as a tool to have faith-filled discussions with their kids who are in 8th grade and up.
Available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and IngramSpark in print and e-book formats starting Oct 6, 2026.
The story visits a wide variety of places and introduces many different creatures and cultures. Which part of the world was your favorite to create, and why?
My favorite town is Hunyljavek – home of the dwarves. It is a place that once was riddled with hardship and pain, but instead of staying in their suffering, they turned their eyes and hearts towards “the creator” and made new traditions that were joyful. When you go there, you can see hints of the brokenness (not many women or children), but it has been redeemed. On a more stylistic note, I appreciate viking culture and I tried to incorporate small elements from them into Hunyljavekian society from their grooming to their armor. The aesthetic of the town and the food they eat is partly inspired by Icelandic culture which is a beautiful culture. From an aesthetic standpoint, I would live in Frosty Halo ~ the sledding, bakeries, angels, choir concerts, lights, community ~ it is a porcelain Christmas village come to life.
Without revealing spoilers, was there a character who surprised you during the writing process by taking the story in an unexpected direction?
There is a character in the book who I wrote to be the comedic relief or at times the moral guide. In a way, this character reminds me a bit of my father- the way he is able to bring joy into hard situations, yet in this book, an event occurs where he faces loss after having already gone through loss. I think his identity shift is a powerful one because as followers, sometimes we believe we have to force ourselves to be happy through pain because the Bible tells us to have a joy beyond circumstances. In fact, in a separate book I am writing, this character holds joy through trauma for the sake of others. His shift shows that it is alright to mourn, grieve, cry, and to be completely shaken by events that take place. It reminded me of Noami in the book of Ruth where her name meant pleasant and the grief made her “bitter” aka Mara. Jesus wept and grieved Lazarus even though He knew he would be resurrected. This character has been holding on to this grief for so long that this shift was inevitable. It is alright to experience it. Just remember that no one can take away Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross from you as you go through those highs and lows.
Aradella has lived her life with no control. Those around her die, and now her mother faces her end at the hands of a deadly disease, Aurora Veins. To save her, she must place her trust in a forgotten fairytale and find a fictitious healing flower, a winterlily, and commit treason against a king her father served loyally until death. Will she find a cure, freedom, and the control she desperately craves – and can she do it without losing her life? HOW THE WINTERLILIES GROW is an award-winning tale of adventure and rekindled faith. Aradella will encounter pirates, dwarves, goblins, elves, reindeer, wyverns, a kitten, and dragons who will either help her or stand in her way. A Love Knudsen wrote this book as a balance between faith and fantasy with the hope to give glory to God.
Based on a true story, Daughter of Warriors follows a young Osage woman whose journey is marked by family devotion, forced assimilation, oil wealth, violence, and the enduring search for safety. What inspired you to build the novel around her story?
I grew up in Kansas City where my mother’s best friend – and my Godmother – was a beautiful, generous Osage woman. I adored her. Because of the oil found on the Osage reservation, she was very rich. As an Osage woman she was the target of racism. As a wealthy woman she was the target of fortune seekers. As an orphan and only child, she was alone trying to fight both. When she died in her early forties, I was a typically dramatic — and completely devastated — teenager, and promised her that one day I would write her story. When that time finally came and I started doing research, one of my early discoveries was a newspaper story in the Milwaukee Sentinel, “America’s Richest Indian Heiress Dies of Too Much Money.” It was as racist as it sounds. It was about her mother, Mary. I knew then that I had to write Mary’s story first. Mary is my protagonist, Lucy, in DAUGHTER OF WARRIORS.
The novel vividly portrays Osage life, the oil boom, and the Reign of Terror. What kind of research did you undertake to ensure those events were represented with care and authenticity?
I did research for years. I went to Pawhuska, the capital of Osage County, Oklahoma, and spoke to many. I went to Kansas City (I live in LA now) to revisit the places where the story takes place. I ran everything past my Godmother’s daughter, who is active in Osage and Indigenous issues generally. I spent a very long time online following any thread I could find. And I am now the owner of dozens of books I ordered and read about the Osage, about Native American Boarding Schools, about this country’s First People, and, of course, the Roaring Twenties in Kansas City, where I first encountered the woman who was to become my narrator, Loula Long Combs.
A word about Loula: I fell in love with this indomitable Kansas Citian at about the same time I was learning how strongly many Indigenous People object to the idea of others telling their stories. Loula became my narrator to make it clear that while the story is written by a white woman, I don’t pretend to understand what Lucy— or any other Native American — experienced. But history, as it’s taught in most schools and written in most books, doesn’t truthfully tell the colonization story — or how completely prejudice continues today. And truth is important. It’s the only way we can change the future.
If readers finish the novel remembering one idea or emotion, what do you hope it is?
That, contrary to what we’ve been taught — and seen in most movies and TV series — Colonizers and Settlers weren’t the good guys. Native Americans were here first. They believed God was in everything: rocks and mountains, seas and rivers, all living creatures. They honored everything accordingly. They had sophisticated trade systems with other tribes and Nations. They had a sophisticated culture that worked well for them — but it wasn’t OUR culture. We took their land and killed nearly all of them as we took it. Yes, they fought back. Of course they did. But arrows are no match for bullets. I want readers to realize that colonization was cruel. That white people considered the First People less than human and treated them accordingly. That the way we treat Indigenous People still is unconscionable.
What is the next book that you are working on, and when will it be available?
I’m now writing my Godmother’s story and calling it, at least for now, COYOTE’S EYES. Her mother, frightened for her child’s safety, sent her to a Catholic Boarding School in California. She lived in California for nearly twenty years, allowing me to tell stories of the Tongva tribe and of old Hollywood before she returns to Kansas City. It should be available by the middle of next year.
Lucy Eagleton is a “Daughter of Warriors,” but even the strongest Osage lineage cannot shield her from the evils the white conquerors brought to them: deadly disease, the atrocities of indian boarding schools, and the Osage Reign of Terror. With oil gushing from their reservation land in Oklahoma, her people become the targets of a murderous conspiracy born of white greed. As she inherits seven headrights-a fortune that makes her one of the wealthiest people in the country-Lucy watches as her family and friends are killed.
Seeking sanctuary in 1920s Kansas City, Lucy marries Edward Walsh, an Irish lawyer who promises protection amidst the city’s thriving jazz scene and the powerful Pendergast political machine. But safety is an illusion, and the shadows of Oklahoma follow her, claiming those she loves and threatening her young daughter, Nevie. Caught between her spiritual heritage and the sophisticated wickedness of a world that views her as a “savage,” Lucy must make an agonizing choice to ensure her daughter’s survival.
In this gripping tale of loss and legacy, one woman must navigate the quicksand of corruption and bigotry to protect her heritage-and her child.
One Chance follows a middle-aged man haunted by the consequences of his own choices who is offered an unexpected way out through a doorway leading him into a world of giants, witches, and enchanted objects. Where did the idea for this novel come from?
I think it started with the idea that if I could live my life over again, would I do anything differently? I think most people have that thought from time to time, and the main character exemplifies an extreme of that. It’s not just that he would change one thing or another, but that he would change the person he was. From there, the book explores ideas around why people make the decisions they make and ultimately become who they are as people. Finally, can we change and start over, or are we trapped by our place and circumstances? The challenges and obstacles he faces in the story, although pure fantasy, in many ways can be related to the challenges we face in everyday life.
Why did you choose a middle-aged protagonist instead of the younger heroes often found in portal fantasy?
One of the main issues for the character was a life filled with regrets. He had regrets about decisions he had made, possible life paths that he had not taken, and even regrets around the very person he had become. Those character issues fit much better with an older character with a lifetime of mistakes rather than someone younger. As he goes through the portal, he becomes young again, a change that is far better appreciated for an older character. I think the theme of starting over and becoming someone new wouldn’t have made as much sense with a young protagonist.
How long did it take to build the world of Wisteria before you began drafting the novel?
I actually started by developing the characters in the story and an overall theme. After that, I developed the general storyline and the first couple of chapters. The bulk of the world-building happened as I was writing the story. I wrote the storyline I had outlined and essentially built the world around it as I wrote. So I really didn’t start building the world until after I began drafting the novel.
What do you hope readers discover about themselves while following Chance’s journey?
In the story, Chance faces a lot of obstacles to becoming the person he wanted to be. Of course, the outward things included traps, monsters, and villains threatening him, but the greater obstacles came from within himself. He faced selfish temptations, old habits, personal vanity, and good old-fashioned fear. I hope readers would recognize that those same challenges exist in our own world, in different forms, but the greater barriers to growth and success are the ones we create ourselves. He’s only truly able to acknowledge those personal challenges and move forward when he fully lays down his own desires in order to become the person his friends needed him to be.
Charlie Baker is a middle-aged man with a lot of regrets about his life, and currently finds himself in mortal danger. He’s given a second chance when a doorway opens up and leads him into another world. What he finds there is a world in crisis, with danger around every corner. He meets two friends who each have a unique power, and together they’re given a quest to save everyone from impending destruction. They will have to overcome monsters and villains as they are pursued by a legendary bounty hunter. Can Charlie and his friends overcome dragons, giants, and magic spells to save mankind? Can he overcome old habits and become the person that he’s always aspired to be?
