Author’s Note: Land of Dust and Tears is also published as Part 1 of Wild Heart on the Prairie. Land of Dust and Tears is offered as a free download as an introduction to this beautiful saga.
Brothers Jan (pronounced Yahn) and Karl Thoresen have left their native land of Norway and braved many perils and hardships to bring their families to America—the land of freedom and hope. Like thousands of others, Jan and his wife Elli long for the opportunity of a better life and a future for their children.
After enduring an ocean crossing and the arduous journey west, they encounter a land so vast and wide that it defies mastery. Jan finds that his struggles are not only with the land, but with a restless and unmanageable heart. Will Jan find a way to overcome this wild land or will the prairie master him?
A Rose Blooms Twice
A Prairie Heritage, Book 1
by Vikki Kestell
Available in Print and Kindle Format
—Finalist, 2013 NM-AZ Book Awards—
Rose Brownlee has suffered more loss than most people can endure. Now she must find a purpose and a way to move on with her life.
Will she bow to conventional wisdom or will she, like Abraham of old, choose to follow where God leads her . . . even to a wild and strange land she does not know?
Set in the American prairie of the late 1800s, A Rose Blooms Twice is the story of loss, disillusionment, rebirth, and love that will inspire, challenge, and encourage you.
Wild Heart on the Prairie
A Prairie Heritage, Book 2
by Vikki Kestell
Available in Print and Kindle Format
Brothers Jan (pronounced Yahn) and Karl Thoresen have left their native land of Norway to bring their families to America—the land of freedom and hope. Like thousands of others, Jan and his wife Elli long for the opportunity of a better life and future for their children.
After braving an ocean crossing and the arduous journey west, they encounter a land so vast and wide that it defies mastery. Jan finds that his struggles are not only with the land, but with a restless and unmanageable heart. Will Jan find a way to overcome this wild land or will the prairie master him?
Author’s Note: Wild Heart on the Prairie contains two parts. The free, separately published prequel, Land of Dust and Tears, is also published as Part 1 of Wild Heart on the Prairie. Read the conclusion of Land of Dust and Tears in Part 2 of Wild Heart on the Prairie.
Land of Dust and Tears is offered as a free download as an introduction to this beautiful saga.
Joy on This Mountain
A Prairie Heritage, Book 3
by Vikki Kestell
Available in Print and Kindle Format
—Finalist, 2014 Selah Christian Book Awards—
The little town of Corinth, Colorado, lies in the gateway to the majestic Rocky Mountains just west of Denver . . . just far enough from the city to avoid close scrutiny, but close enough to be accessible. Few know of the wickedness hidden in the small town, so picturesquely set in the foothills of the mighty mountains.
Joy on This Mountain is the eagerly awaited sequel to A Rose Blooms Twice and Wild Heart on the Prairie. The legacy of Jan and Rose has far-reaching and unexpected consequences.
The Captive Within
A Prairie Heritage, Book 4
by Vikki Kestell
Available in Print and Kindle Format
—Finalist, 2014 NM-AZ Book Awards—
The Captive Within opens the day after Joy on This Mountain ends. The two infamous houses of Corinth, Colorado, are closed and the young women who had been imprisoned there have been released. Soon after, Rose and Joy leave Corinth to establish a home and a haven for “their” girls in Denver.
Before long, Rose and Joy face a heartrending challenge: What does it take to unlock and free the soul of a defiled woman? And as they wrestle for a foothold in Denver, Rose discovers that the long abandoned house given to them hides a dark secret of its own.
Stolen
A Prairie Heritage, Book 5
by Vikki Kestell
Available in Print and Kindle Format
Denver, 1910: Stolen continues to chronicle the lives of Rose Thoresen, her daughter, Joy Thoresen Michaels, and those who live at Palmer House—a most extraordinary refuge for young women rescued from prostitution. The opening of Stolen finds young Mei-Xing safely returned to her friends and family at Palmer House. However, after six harrowing months of captivity, Mei-Xing stuns those who love her when she returns to Palmer House with child.
If Su-Chong’s mother, Fang-Hua Chen, discovers that her son, now dead, has left behind a child, will she allow Mei-Xing to keep him—or will she set in motion plans to steal him away? Will O’Dell, Martha Palmer, Minister Liáng, and others concerned for the safety of Mei-Xing and her child be forced to face off with those who would see Mei-Xing and the work of Palmer House destroyed?
Lost Are Found
A Prairie Heritage, Book 6
by Vikki Kestell
Available in Print and Kindle Format
Joy Thoresen Michaels has lost the two most precious people in her life: her husband and her only child. She cannot receive her husband back from the dead, but she has hope for her son—hope that he will be recovered:
“I spoke a moment ago about my prairie heritage—the enduring faith my papa and mama lived as an example for me. It is because of their faith that I have such hope for Edmund even though he is, today, lost to us.
“You see, what is lost to us is not—is not—lost to God! I remember Papa saying this very thing: In God, the lost are found. Our Lord sees the entire world—and nothing in all of his creation is hidden to him! I am comforted to know that wherever Edmund is, God is there with him.”
Four families bind themselves in a solemn pledge: They vow never to stop searching for Edmund and never to stop trusting that God will restore him to them, whether in this life or the next.
Lost Are Found, the conclusion of this spiritually rich series, chronicles how God answers those who utterly trust in him, no matter the circumstances—and no matter how long the wait.
Visit Vikki’s website, www.vikkikestell.com for updates or follow her on Facebook.
The Christian and the Vampire
A Short Story
by Vikki Kestell
Available in Kindle Format
What happens one sultry summer night when a Christian and a vampire meet on a fire escape and agree to engage in a cordial conversation? A touch of hilarity, plus eye-popping—and Undead heart-starting—revelation as vampire myths and legends give way to greater Truth!
Buy The Christian and the Vampire in Kindle format from Amazon.com.
An Excerpt From
The Christian and the Vampire
A Short Story
Chapter 1
My spidey-sense leapt into high alert.
We were down in The Glades passing out little books about Jesus—thin, pocket-sized graphic novels with titles like Ridiculous Truths and Blood Sacrifice. The Glades is where the local goths and vampire wannabes hang out—exactly the ones we were there to bring our message to. Hence the graphic novels.
We’d had a pretty good night, Jake and I. We’d passed out lots of the books, engaged in some decent conversation, and even prayed with one guy. I was pretty sure we would see him again.
What city?
Well, does it matter?
You could call it Gotham and that would be an apt characterization of our city: Lots of dark corners, pervasive decay, and evil doings.
And The Glades? Also a suitable metaphor. If you know Arrow you snapped to the reference and I don’t need to explain further.
What I’m saying is that I’m not going to draw a map to this city and, in particular, this moldering urban hellhole, because as sure as I’m penning my memoirs of this encounter, some nit who has no business attempting a conversation with an Undead will pull a “Seven Sons of Sceva” and find out too late the truth of Acts 19:13-16.
So.
Back to the story.
My spidey-sense leapt into high alert.
You know: The hair on the back of my neck standing at attention; the skin on my arms scrambling up in cold gooseflesh; instant hyper-vigilance.
Just as an aside: if I were recording this uncommon tête-à-tête for “church folks” I might have written, “my spiritual discernment alerted me” or “the Holy Spirit spoke to me,” but I’m not penning this tale for the benefit of those who are already God-followers. Nope. This account is for those to whom “spidey-sense” makes “perfect sense.”
A chill traveled (literally) down my back, and I froze in place, scanning the area, not that I could see all that much. Jake and I had stopped at the mouth of a particularly dim and disgusting alley. It smelled rank and looked worse. We knew we’d find a clutch of Dead Beats (Undead posers) far down the alley’s gaping maw, engaged in God-knows-what perverse activities.
The posers were (predictably) young men and women dressed or draped all in black, accented with deep purples and scarlet, with skin painted pale-to-white, hair dyed black, excessive black eyeliner, black lipstick, black manicures, and extreme piercings—you get the picture. Oh. And either nicely sharpened fangs that slip over their real teeth or (for the True Believers) permanently attached custom veneers or implants.
So here we stood, Jake and I, backs pressed against a seeping brick wall on the edge of a badly lit street, and something was, for certain, not right.
I mean “not right” in addition to all the other aforementioned stuff.
Me, I’d done a stretch in the Marines, including two tours in the Persian Gulf, and I know what it is to be afraid. I’d seen things—awful things I’d like to forget—but I’d also seen what I believe is the most terrifying thing of all: a soul departing this life with no hope for a happy eternity.
Now that’s terrifying.
#aintnosecondchancesafterdeath
I suppose that’s why, when I mustered out, I went off to Bible school. These days I hire myself out for day labor and spend most evenings down here in The Glades. The Glades, where “terrifying” is supposed to be “cool” but they haven’t got a clue.
Not yet, anyway.
So I’m looking around, checking my six, and seeing nothing—which is a lot worse than seeing “something” when you can sense that “something” is lurking close by. It’s like spotting a spider in the shower (always, of course, while you’re buck naked in the shower), turning around to grab a piece of TP and, when you turn back to squash the little beggar, he’s gone. You know he’s still lurking somewhere nearby . . . but you can’t find him.
And that’s not cool.
“What’s up, Taz?” Jake whispered.
“Dunno, but I can feel it.”
“You wanna get out of here?”
“Maybe. Hang on a tick.”
Taz is the nickname I earned in the Corps. Short for Tasmanian Devil. Why? They said I didn’t quit. That I just kept whirling. Kept fighting.
Well, if the choice is fight or die, Imma gonna fight and not quit.
Whatever. The name stuck. Even had a Warner Bros. version of the Tasmanian Devil inked on my proud black skin. Now my nickname feels natural. But for different reasons. Spiritual reasons.
I knew that whatever “it” was, it still lurked close by, and I recognized that Jake was new to spiritual warfare, so I gave in. “Yeah. Let’s call it a night.”
I had the strong sense that, for me, though, the night wasn’t over, so I muttered a quick, “You know I’m leaning on you, Jesus, right? I place my trust in you.”
Then we bugged outta there.
Ά — Ω
Chapter 2
My walkup studio apartment isn’t any great shakes, but it’s mine and it’s pretty secure, given the crime-riddled area I live in. I say it’s pretty secure because of the reinforced door with deadbolts and the single window with locking bars across it. The bars are fairly strong: Ain’t nothin’ bigger’n a rat comin’ through that window.
Nothing physical, that is.
That night I stepped through the door and ran the “I just got home” drill: Check the door and the lock for scratches or scrapes. Get inside and scan the single room for disturbances, even minor ones. Lock the door behind me. Check that the window is still intact and latched; unlatch and open the window; check that the exterior bars are still locked.
Relax.
I left the window open hoping for some fresher air. Then I threw some ripe fruit and OJ into the blender with a fistful of ice cubes and let them grind and whirr for 30 seconds. Poured the concoction out into a tall glass, unlocked the window bars, and stepped out onto the fire escape where I could look down on the street.
Hey, the view from the fire escape is the only view I’ve got and I’ve come to appreciate it. Besides, the apartment is always unbearable on a hot summer night, and hanging out on the fire escape is way cooler.
I tossed back half of the smoothie. The icy sludge tasted good but gave me instant brain freeze. Argh! Hate that.
Down on the street traffic was sporadic: Late nights during the week, the city took a deep breath, held it for a couple of hours, and let it go about four a.m. Then it was time to get up and climb aboard the hamster wheel once again.
That’s when I sensed his presence but took a deliberate slug of the smoothie before I said anything. I didn’t turn around.
“I was wondering if you’d show yourself,” I opened in a conversational tone.
“And here I was wondering how badly my presence would upset you.”
~~**~~
End of Excerpt
Buy The Christian and the Vampire ($0.99)
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About the Author
Vikki Kestell has more than 20 years of career experience as a writing, instructional design, and communications professional in government, academia, semiconductor manufacturing, health care, and nonprofit organizations. She holds a Ph.D. in Organizational Learning and Instructional Technologies.
An accomplished speaker and teacher, Vikki and her husband Conrad Smith make their home in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
To keep abreast of new book releases, visit her website, http://www.vikkikestell.com/, or find her on Facebook, http://www.facebook.com/TheWritingOfVikkiKestell.
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