I write books.
When I write, I tell the stories God gives me; some of those stores don’t make sense.
When I first started writing, I was a teenager, actually a preteen and the story just continued. To this day, 30 some years later, it has not been finished. I can’t even tell you why but right now there is a new story. A story I started writing for a contest and, then, it took a life on of it’s own.
God redirected the path of the character. Jemma. Jemma is the character, but it’s not even her name.
“You’re not going to meet her.” Edward stated.
“Yes, I am. She is the piece to this puzzle we don’t have.” Jemma said grabbing her coat.
“No, we don’t know her, what she does; come on Jemma.” He pleaded.
“Mr. King said we needed to meet. I didn’t think she would drop her life and be here in London at the blink of an eye.”
“Right! Who is she? What does she need to say that couldn’t have been said over the phone.”
Jemma plopped down on the couch and sighed. Edward was right. She couldn’t say why Damia Willis, was coming to meet her.
“Edward, that isn’t even my name.”
“It’s the name you have lived with; you can’t leave it behind.” Edward sat next to her and put his hand on her knee. “Who is this woman?”
“Who am I? Who am I Edward that she dropped her life and is on a jet HERE RIGHT NOW?” Jemma started to cry, “Who am I?”
(From Book 2 of the Her Journey to the Truth)
Get ready for the book launch of book one of Her Journey to the Truth