My new novel Mowgli's Missionary is available at an introductory price of $0.99 on Amazon Kindle and the Kindle app through May 7 (always free in Kindle Unlimited). It is available in paperback from Amazon for $5.99. Here's another excerpt:
Jude glanced at the image of Christ resting over his heart, then into the boy’s widening eyes. In the soft moon of the warm summer night he opened his heart to Mowgli and shared the savior that lived within.
Sunrise found them in conversation that had kept them engaged for hours. Some of it seemed to make sense to the boy: a powerful creator who must allow hate in order for love to exist, that hate can ruin a world made for love, that the creature is powerless to restore the creator’s world after he ruined it.
But a man who was both a god and human, an eternal god who can die, a dead man who came back to life, an invisible place called Heaven where people live forever, one god who is three persons—none of this made sense. Baloo and Hathi taught him about law and order. Raksha and Father Wolf were his parents, the wolf cubs were his brothers. All Mowgli had learned about family, community and common decency had come from the animals, and their system made so much more sense than what Jude tried to describe.
“Please,” said Jude as the sun began to rise, “I can try to explain it better.”
Before Mowgli could answer a growl issued from Jude’s stomach, the roar of a creature that waited all night to be fed but had been neglected.
“Your stomach is empty,” said Mowgli quietly. “It takes a while to digest a large portion. You have done so. I haven’t.”
A smile formed slowly on Jude’s tired face.
“You’re a smart boy. Okay, take the time you need to digest. I can sleep with my hunger.”
Jude glanced at the image of Christ resting over his heart, then into the boy’s widening eyes. In the soft moon of the warm summer night he opened his heart to Mowgli and shared the savior that lived within.
Sunrise found them in conversation that had kept them engaged for hours. Some of it seemed to make sense to the boy: a powerful creator who must allow hate in order for love to exist, that hate can ruin a world made for love, that the creature is powerless to restore the creator’s world after he ruined it.
But a man who was both a god and human, an eternal god who can die, a dead man who came back to life, an invisible place called Heaven where people live forever, one god who is three persons—none of this made sense. Baloo and Hathi taught him about law and order. Raksha and Father Wolf were his parents, the wolf cubs were his brothers. All Mowgli had learned about family, community and common decency had come from the animals, and their system made so much more sense than what Jude tried to describe.
“Please,” said Jude as the sun began to rise, “I can try to explain it better.”
Before Mowgli could answer a growl issued from Jude’s stomach, the roar of a creature that waited all night to be fed but had been neglected.
“Your stomach is empty,” said Mowgli quietly. “It takes a while to digest a large portion. You have done so. I haven’t.”
A smile formed slowly on Jude’s tired face.
“You’re a smart boy. Okay, take the time you need to digest. I can sleep with my hunger.”