The Unraveling of Wentwater

Once again I've been lead into the world of inspirational fantasy. Take a peek at  The Unraveling of Wentwater and learn some of the great truths that sneak into this wonderful story.

This story explores love, jealousy, mercy, and judgment. It spins a tale about the power and magic of words, and as the marsh witch, who keeps words in a jar, warns, “Be careful with your words, they have consequences!” Secrets and superstitions abound in the kingdom, but only a water creature who lives at the bottom of the lake and guards the sacred site knows the truth and can help Teralyn restore all.

In this fourth installment of The Gates of Heaven fantasy series, readers will learn of the fourth of seven sacred sites heaven set up on earth to prevent evil from gaining a stronghold over the hearts of men. Inspired by the traditional fairy tale Sleeping Beauty, readers will be taken on a journey that will leave them, in a word...speechless.

Blurb:

When the simple, backward village of Wentwater begins disappearing one word at a time, no one can figure out how to stop it. Not the learned men living up in the Heights nor the superstitious leaders of the village. But those who had attended the baby naming ceremony seventeen years earlier remember the words of the marsh witch, and her pronouncement that the babe would one day cause the unraveling of Wentwater. In their fear, the villagers banish the parents and set their cottage on fire, and the babe was thought to have perished in the flames. But . . . did she?

Teralyn lives in the Heights and wants nothing more than to create beautiful music on her lap harp. When she comes down to the village for a festival, she falls in love with a villager named Fromer, much to the fury of Fromer’s brother, Justyn. Justyn’s jealousy moves him to make a deal with the witch, and when Wentwater vanishes due to a backfiring spell, it leaves Teralyn, the only person left in the kingdom, with a terrible choice. She must leave her life and forget Wentwater, or she can spend seven long years restoring everything back to the way it was, by spinning nettle into thread and stitching the world back . . . one word at a time.

Excerpt:

“This child will be the undoing of Wentwater. Before she turns eighteen, the village will unravel and all will be lost.” She searched the room, peering over heads, until her eyes lit upon a spinning wheel in the corner. “I see the thread of life tangling, her fingers spinning the spindle, stitching with thread, thumbs bleeding as she sits at the wheel, undoing, undoing . . .”

She cast a sideways glance at Arlynna, whose voice had fled the room. “You must send the
mother away. And the babe . . .”

Ursell reached down and, with something akin to tenderness, stroked the child’s forehead. Iris
grabbed the doorjamb to keep from fainting. She strained to hear the witch’s words, which came out
barely above a whisper. “. . . must be put to death. Before Wentwater comes to naught.”

Ursell’s words dropped like stones into a deep waterless well, rebounding off the walls of the
room and draining hope from the hearts of all in attendance. As the witch pushed through the mob of
women and disappeared from Iris’s view, chaos erupted. Voices unleashed gave vent to fear and
hysteria. Arlynna stepped over the voices around her and summoned attention.

“There is little time. We must act quickly!” With her eyes, she signaled to the two older women who had blessed the babe. They grasped Dineen’s arms, one on each side, as she protested and
wriggled to get away. Cries rose up in a chant to Iris’s ears, although her own voice still wandered lost in the stifling room. A whirlwind of irrepressible fury howled through the hallway.

“Banish her! Banish her!”

Iris watched as more women latched on to Dineen, as another scooped up the babe from the
cradle, as Dineen flailed for her child, her agonizing screams melting Iris’s heart. But Iris knew there
was nothing to be done, no way to stem this tide that must rush in and sweep away such a curse. If the
babe was indeed destined to bring destruction to Wentwater, who were they to ignore such warning?
Iris didn’t allow herself to think of the pain and terror the new mother must be feeling. Never in her
own life had she witnessed such portentous omens. Had Ursell seen the future in her glass eye—or was it her malevolence and bitterness at her own banishment that had drawn her from her marsh and set her feet toward the village? Iris would never know. And she gave herself no time to ponder such
inscrutable thoughts.

A voice yelled. “Burn that spinning wheel!” Another cried, “Burn down the cottage, burn
everything!”

Review:

Like fairy tales of old, this is a wonderful story full of the great truths of the ages. If you enjoy fantasy, you will love falling into this tale.

For a chance to win a copy, go to:

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13632520?utm_medium=api&utm_source=giveaway_widget

For more info. about C.S. Lakin and her other stories go to: 

www.cslakin.com

The Blessing Seer

Woohoo! A new author has arrived in the Pelican's flock. And it seems this story is one close to all our hearts - how unworthy we all are of His blessings and how He can use these poor, broken vessels.

Blurb:

 When God sends Addy a special messenger who challenges her to step from her comfort zone, she isn’t sure she’s up to the job. She feels inadequate to take on the task of encouraging others, and when she starts seeing visions, she worries she’s losing her mind.

Yet, Addy wants only to be used by God, even if that means seeing visions and risking relationships with family and friends. By stepping out on a limb, can Addy really accomplish something significant for God? What affect will her surrender to His will have on those around her? And what affect will it have on her own life?

Includes a bible study


Excerpt:

Because I’m the pastor’s wife, I know people expect me to know about all things spiritual. I’m sure they assume I could skip Sunday sermons altogether. I don’t need them, right? Wrong! I’m human. I still struggle in my relationship with God. I fail Him. I don’t understand everything. I have to pray and study. In fact, I often feel inadequate to fill the role of a pastor’s wife. Should I know more? Should I be more spiritual? Should I be able to answer any biblical question?

As mentioned in the sermon, I have always sung about counting my blessings. I’ve heard people say, “God bless you.” But, have I really contemplated this topic? Not really. I knew God wanted to teach me something because I couldn’t let it go.

“You know, I’ve heard it told that God has a whole storehouse of blessings to bestow, but many are never received.”

I halted in my tracks, at first wondering if the voice came from inside my head. But, no, a man of medium build stood beside me as if he had been there all along. His eyes glimmered with a most alluring shade of azure akin to the morning sky. His gray-white hair and beard hinted at elderly, yet he appeared quite fit and sprightly.

I hesitated then I extended my hand.

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. I’m Addy Townsend.” I was actually “fishing” when I said this. I didn’t know who this man was or where he had come from. He didn’t favor the man I had seen earlier in the car. I definitely had no idea why he had immediately begun to discuss the very topic that buzzed in my head. And in this day and time, should I be running from him?

When he placed his hand in my outstretched one, words failed to express the feeling. As odd as it may sound to even my ears, his touch radiated peace like a warmth that rushed from his hand throughout my body and calmed my restlessness. I sensed no need to flee.

“Name’s Conrad.”

“Nice to meet you, Conrad. I’ve never seen you around here. Have you recently moved into the neighborhood?”

“No, just passing through.”

“I see.”

He began to stroll once again, and I fell into step beside him. It felt familiar, as if I had taken this walk with him on numerous occasions. I started to engage in friendly conversation by commenting on the weather or leaves, but I never had the opportunity. He launched the conversation himself.

“Blessings are often contingent on obedience.”

I contemplated that a moment. I considered what I knew from Scripture about the topic of blessing.

“I suppose you’re right, at least historically speaking. I mean, God promised blessing to the Israelites if they would obey.”

“That’s right, Addy, He did.”

His face beamed as if he were proud I had answered correctly, and I smiled for his words to me brimmed with compliment. The ease of conversation with a stranger surprised me. Normally, I would only engage in such dialogue with those closest to me, and admittedly, possibly not even then.

“There are blessings God gives because He is a gracious God.” Conrad continued. “However, there are blessings He waits to give if only the person will obey or follow His will.”

“Yes, He definitely blesses us with much we don’t deserve.”

“It is His very nature.” He stated this in a most matter-of-fact manner.

“But, if there are blessings we could receive based on obeying or following His will, then what you said must be true—there are blessings we never receive because we aren’t obedient or devoted to following His way.”

He stopped and looked at me. His eyes brimmed with compassion. His expression and posture exuded sorrow. “Yes.” His voice was low, and I thought a tear might emerge for the deep emotion I sensed from him.

Silence ensued. I felt the need to cease the intensity of the moment.

“It’s a shame that we would miss out on God’s blessings. If only we knew what God was up to.”

Now Conrad’s eyes seemed to look to my very soul. My pulse quickened. I bit my lip and began to fidget.

“If you knew the blessings God had in store for others, would you tell them?”

“I suppose I would….yes.”

As the words left my mouth, I knew my tone sounded unsure. I diverted my gaze from his, but my thoughts were still riveted on his question. Would I tell someone if I knew the blessing he or she could obtain? I have trouble just sharing my faith with those around me. In fact, I’m not much of a conversationalist about anything.

“Addy.” The way he said my name was so soothing. There was no condemnation for my unconfident answer to his question.

I looked back at him when he addressed me.

“Addy, you are not alone in lacking confidence. There are many who keep silent when they should speak. Just remember if you are yielded to Him, He will guide you. He will give you the words to say.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Do not fear. You can.”

He then turned and strolled down the street. I wanted to say something, but no words would come, and I realized I had arrived back in front of my house. I glanced once more at Conrad’s back. He appeared smaller and smaller—fading into the colorful scenery. I wanted to wait to see which way he would go but had no time to waste. I needed to jump in the shower.

I haven't had a chance to read this one yet, but it sounds like a blessing in itself. And a bible study to boot? I can't wait!!!