Prince of Egypt

Someone decided to do a Broadway version of the cartoon, PRINCE OF EGYPT. I’ve heard the soundtrack and thought it lovely. Have a listen if you’re interested:

There’s one thing.

One little thing.

THEY GOT IT WRONG AGAIN. Someone has to stop promoting the idea that Moses parted the Red Sea by himself. He didn’t. By the time the Israelites got to the shores of the sea, God was kind of pissed with his prophet. He’d done some major side moves. Moses stood and cried out for the waters to part.

Nothing happened.

He told the men to join him. And again, nothing happened. It took his sister Miriam standing beside him and having the WOMEN join in to reach God’s ears. So in the name and sanity for women and sisters everywhere, someone please set the record straight?


From GOD REMAINS, the fourth book in my Ethiopian Chronicles series:

“Why is it always about violence?” Destiny asked, her eyes narrowed.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You could offer to negotiate your way out of a problem,” she snapped.

Raffe shrugged with an insouciant smile. “Nothing I do pleases you. When I suggest violence, it is indicative of men. When I suggest passion, you claim me a lecher. I can see that our marriage will never be boring.”

“I am not marrying you,” she swore.

“Not right now,” Raffe admitted. “We’d hardly be likely to find a judge here.”

“I’ll get married by a holy man.”

“Fine, we’ll wait until we see Father Josephus.”

“No. I meant I wouldn’t marry you. If I get married, it shall be with the blessing of a man of the cloth. Not to you though.”

“Too late. You agreed.”

“You friend is delusional,” Destiny informed Gabriel, tossing her head exasperatedly.

“So you’ve mentioned,” he observed dryly.

Myron grew exasperated with them all and raised his voice. “Majesty, it grows late. You must complete the test before the end of the sun’s course.”

“Impatient idiots surround me,” Destiny said.

“Just open the damned rock—” Gabriel muttered.

GOD remains

The thing I love the most …

There is this great line from the musical Come From Away, “The one thing I loved more than anything was used as a bomb.” I think that moment in this amazing show about stranded passengers during 9/11 is what resonated the most for me.

Who hasn’t had that moment when the thing they loved the most was changed into something bad? As a writer, I deal with editors, script consultants, reviewers, and even readers sometimes. I don’t know every writer in the world, but the ones I do know can spend hundreds of hours on a single chapter or scene trying to make sure the perfect balance for the work. This isn’t a job. It’s a passion. It’s a life calling. If I won the lottery, (oh God, please let me win something), if I won the lottery tomorrow, I would still write. When people go on vacation to get away from their job, I often marvel at the concept. I don’t know how to take a vacation from my own head. The movie theater in my mind has been open for business all of my life, and not visiting it to me is the same thing as cutting off a limb.

So thank you to the people who remember that for every book and movie you watch, there’s a writer, shut up in a room by themself, working for hours to make your entertainment as perfect as possible. We know we’ll never reach it, but we still try.

And thank you to the writers of Come From Away for creating a musical that resonates in so many ways. I love it.


Did you know the Middle Ages and Renaissance Europeans thought Ethiopia was an entire continent and there was no mightier kings to be found than on those shores? Or that the ancient Egyptians said Ethiopia was “the place where Gods walked with man.” Writing thrillers based on Ethiopian history and biblical mythology means you never lack for inspiration or material. Unfortunately, due to civil wars and a new drought, over twenty million people in the area now risk starvation. I fear that soon the beautiful, rich, complex country I write spiritual thrillers about will become as legendary as the ancient Egyptians who called it Heaven.

Writer Mandate

At no point in history has it been more vitally important that we do our jobs, and do them well. We need more books, not less. We need more people reading. Through reading can come educating, inspiring, enlightening … and this world is in desperate need of all of those things. Let’s get people dreaming again. Let’s motivate them to take the energy they absorb from our words to create change in the world. Hate breeds in darkness, and the only thing that destroys darkness is the light.

So light it up, and write more–not less.

Jacqueline Jing Lin GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY


The chemistry between Destiny and Raffe wrote itself from the moment they introduced themselves. Getting a chance to explore these two dynamic characters has been an absolute blast. Enjoy a scene from GOD REMAINS, when Destiny gets a chance to finally explain women to Raffe.


“What is it you wish?”

“I wish to be cherished,” she asserted. “I wish my man to accept me as I am without condition. I would have a man who would rejoice in the person I am and the life I have been forced to live. What I want is what every woman wants.”

“Here I thought you wanted to be a queen.” Raffe tried to joke to lighten the moment that was becoming fraught with emotional landmines for them both.

Destiny turned from him to return to their stealthy walk up the stairs. “I’d be the queen of my man’s heart,” she whispered loudly enough for him to understand. “That is the secret between men and women. Women wish to be queen of their man’s heart, and men wish to be king of their own harem.”

“You’re a pessimist.” He scowled, joining her in the climb.

“And you’re a fool.”


As I get God Remains, third book in the series, ready for publication, I thought I’d revisit the wonderful world of the renegade Ethiopian priest that is Father Josephus. Here’s a piece from Journey of Josephus.


The golden gleam from the Dome of the Rock shone over the despair surrounding it, like the spring sun after a long hard winter. It did not matter if it were day or night, good weather or bad, war or peace. The Dome was a constant reminder of the power of faith. It was the hope of a better tomorrow, and a gift from a long gone cherished yesterday. Built by Caliph Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan, he had intended the structure to be used as a shrine for pilgrims. The narrow lane leading to the holy place was lined with lush and leafy trees, a present from a long ago king.

Between the gifts of the caliph and a king, were the armed guards and tanks that kept the peace – or maintained the war, depending on the side of the Jordan you were born into. It was a pitiful statement of the human race that one family could cause so much pain in the pursuit of glory for ostensibly the same God.

And that is what they are. Islam, Christian, and Jew … distant cousins all.

Father Josephus was standing by one of those trees, watching as the men returned from their final prayers for the day. He held the girl in his arms, in her disguise designed by Mrs. Shapiro. He hid his smile; he was a priest, holding a girl of unknown origins, disguised by a Jew, about to enter one of the holiest Islamic sites in the world.

Who said missions of faith were boring?


The third book in my Ethiopian Chronicles has been a challenge, to say the least, but the relationship between Destiny and Raffe makes it worth it. Check out a passage from God Remains

Destiny approached Setur’s side. “If he fails, you will not k

ill him.”

“It is of no concern.”

“You will not kill him,” she ordered again.

“If he fails, he is not worthy of you.”

“Then you will send him on his way and I shall stay.” When he turned to her in surprise, she stared deeply into his eyes to be sure he fully understood what she was offering him. “I will stay as whatever you wish.”

“You know I would only accept your eternal presence. You would bargain your life, even eternity, for him?”

“I would give far more than my life.”

“You are my Sheban,” he murmured.

“I am Destiny.”

“Did I neglect to mention?” When Destiny turned to him, bemused, he gave her a wolf-like smile of triumph. “‘Sheban’ means Destiny.”


A taste of God’s Remains, coming soon from

They reached Tel Aviv Airport late at night, and thanks to Destiny’s contacts, they were breezed through customs. Gabriel smiled as he remembered the last time he had come through this transportation mill he had been with his wife, though they had first met only a few days before.

He watched with bemused tolerance as Raffe and Destiny continued to bicker as they made their way from the private terminal to the waiting armored van.

“Why are we going straight to Hebron?” Raffe asked. “I think it’s most inhospitable of you not to invite us to your home to rest overnight. Some of us no longer look as if we were freshly pressed from the cleaner.”

“I told you, we’re going to a friend’s house in Hebron.”cropped-close-up-of-hands-of-a-group-of-tribal-children-ethiopia.jpg

“Not good enough.” Raffe growled. “Why can’t we go to your place here?”

They watched the driver load their luggage and briefcases into the armored van before climbing into the air-conditioned interior.

“I no longer have a house,” Destiny muttered.

Raffe stopped so suddenly that he almost fell from his perch as he was climbing into the van. “What?”

“I no longer have a house here,” Destiny yelled at him as she elbowed him out of the way to take her own seat. “I sold all my holdings in Israel a few months ago. I no longer have any property here.”

Raffe scowled at Gabriel. “So why is she coming?”

“I still have my contacts, fool.”


Both men winced when she snapped. Gabriel tried to smile at her. “Jazz, Raffe’s family are the descendants of the man who housed the Ark for King David. They have kept their rich history alive throughout the centuries by sheer force of will. It’s their belief that God chose their bloodline to be the guardians of the Ark.”

“So if we found the Ark …”

“I would take it away from you.”

Jasmine ignored Raffe’s comment as she continued to stare at Gabriel. “You would condone this? Even if it means Keda’s life?”

“I would,” he answered. Though his face was stoic, his eyes were teeming with his desire for her acceptance. “I gave Raffe’s family my word,” he tried to explain. “I will not go back on that.”

“We’re talking about a child,” she implored them both.

Raffe drew himself up straight. “And I’m talking about a task given to my family from God.”


“The Ark had definite opinions on when the Israelites did things, where they went, and what they did. There was a cloud of fire that would cover the tent where the Ark resided. When the cloud was there, the Israelites would stay camped; when it dissipated they would march again. The priests spoke to the Ark and received all forms of counsel. Moses would speak with the cloud and pass out edicts to the freed slaves.”

“You would think that the rabbis would want to get the Ark back.”

“I found an interview with the head Ashkenazi rabbi, who feared the Ark being discovered. You see, the current children of Israel are not pure from the viewpoint of the Ark, and if it were found, they would have to be forbidden from seeing or touching it. Also, finding the Ark means that they have to rebuild Solomon’s temple.”

Gabriel groaned at this news. “Well, so much for them helping us.”

“The building of the third temple is tied into the end of the world and the book of Revelations. No one is going to be looking forward to those events coming to pass. Well, no one sane at least.”

“Did you get anything about the Ethiopian church?”

“I stuck with the Ark. Why?”