In America, it’s Thanksgiving Day! Whether or not you’re in America, however, I’m thankful for you! I hope you have a lovely day planned. We’re having to push our big family celebration off because Vegas has about ten thousand viruses making their rounds, and we’re being extra safe for the great-grandparents. But you can bet we’re going to be watching the Macy’s Day Parade and Happy Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown! (The kids have decided it will be Batman Day as well, so you’ll probably soon see pictures of our Batman action figure eating cranberry “jelly” as my kids call it.
All joking aside, I absolutely love Thanksgiving. I love the origins. I love the family traditions. And I love the idea of having a day set aside to consider how we’ve been blessed. Because as hard as the year might have been, there are always blessings to be counted.
Isn’t it easy, though, to complain? I complain far too much. Then I’m convicted when I remind my kids to recount all the things God has given us…things that are in no way owed to us. A safe place to live. The relative health of the family. Clean air to breathe and clear water to drink. We can still go to church and worship freely, as many around the world cannot do, and we can buy and read any book we want. Family with which to celebrate (that’s a first for us since we were dating), and our lights turning on and our water running.
But what happens when we lose those things? I won’t be purposefully ignorant and assume that just because I have these things right now that all people do, or that I always will have them. There are far too many people this year who are struggling to pay for daily groceries, let alone a Thanksgiving meal. People all around the world are without a safe, secure home. Someone’s car died this week, and they’re not sure where they’ll scrape up the downpayment for another. Someone needs a medical procedure their insurance doesn’t cover. Someone lost a job. Someone’s beloved pet just died. Someone is missing Mom and Dad for the first time or the hundredth time. Someone lost a child. Someone is struggling with depression and debilitating anxiety.
Is God good then? Do we still give thanks when we feel like everything good has been stripped away?
Yes. We do.
As I remind my children, no matter what happens, I know that I have the love of my Savior, Jesus Christ. My sins are forgiven. This world, with all its loss and pain, will not be my final destination. I have been given faith and eyes to see the glory of the Lord. And I can rest assured, as we’re promised in Romans 8:31-39 that God is working all things for the good of His children.
Job had all he loved and owned stripped away. God used Him to show the world His own power and goodness, then restored to Job all he had and more.
Sarah was barren. Then God made her the mother of many nations.
Joseph was sold into slavery. He was then used to save his family and countless others during a famine.
Ruth’s husband died. She was given a new husband and became an ancestor of the Savior.
Peter denied his Savior. God used him in his humble repentance to lead Church in its early years.
Worse than all the others, however, Christ was killed for sin that wasn’t His own. And He rose to reign triumphant over sin and death, drawing His children to Himself out of spiritual death, winning them as His own for eternity.
Life in this world is hard. And if we cast our eyes upon the ground, it’s easy to forget the sky exists. The weariness can weigh on us like boulders in a sack we must carry uphill each day. But take courage, my friend. If you’re struggling to give thanks this year, take heart. There is hope in Jesus, and He offers forgiveness for sins. His love yet lingers in the world, and His grace is overwhelming.
If you’re having a hard year, though, and you just need someone to listen, please feel free to respond to this with an email to me. (BrittanyFichterFiction@gmail.com) I’m no miracle worker. But I can listen and pray, and I can thank God for you. Because you are a blessing to me.
I’m so grateful every time I think about how God has brought this little community together. God has given each of us the ability to share our gifts with one another, yet another thing for which to be grateful. For I believe as the Bible says, that you were fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139), and that you were given unique gifts with which you, too, can bless the world (Ephesians 2:18-11). So don’t be afraid to pray that God will use you to bless someone as well.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.
PERSONAL UPDATE: Since writing this, my babykins nephew has entered the world! Even more to be grateful for!
Exciting Stuff coming soon!!!
I’ll not go into it in detail right now because it’s still in the works, but I’ve got some really fun stuff in the works!
Thanksgiving Pictures
Send me pictures of your Thanksgiving! They might end up on the blog!
Reader Poll
The votes were close last week! I asked you if you preferred Magical Shifter/Human Romance or Hero of Unknown Origins in your story. Hero of Unknown Origins won by only three votes! So what’ll it be this week?
Small Business Saturday Book Sale
Okay, yes. I know it’s not Saturday. But I’m the kind of person who saves about five million pictures of book covers for future purchase and then forgets them and then finds them after the sale is done. So I’m trying to make this easy for all you well-intentioned-but-distracted buyers like me.
Print book sales are done for now (I’m thinking of opening them up again before Mother’s Day?), but I’ve got some ebook sales for you!
1.) Clara’s Soldier: A Historical Fantasy Retelling of The Nutcracker is only 99¢! This sale is across all platforms, but then I’ve got something else just for you on my personal bookstore only. (If you use the coupon code below, you can get it for even less on my store…just sayin’.)
A bride-to-be without answers.
A soldier who never came home.
A nutcracker that might hold one last Christmas wish…
World War II has been over for three months, but Clara can’t join in the Christmas festivities with her friends and family. The fiance she sent off to Europe three years ago never returned. But just as she’s about to give up hope, her godfather might just have one last miracle up his sleeve.
And it all begins with a nutcracker.
Read this historical fantasy retelling of The Nutcracker set in post-World War II North Carolina to experience the magical Christmas adventure you’ve been looking for. Written by a military spouse, this Christmas novella brings to life the true struggles, joys, and unique happily ever after military life brings.
Get Clara’s Soldier today!
25% Off Coupon Code!
If you go to my store, you can get 25% off any and all digital products…including the audiobooks! (If you find any rogue paperbacks floating around, ignore those. I’m trying to track down the little monsters to turn them off.) Just use the coupon code:
BSF2H380M7
If you’ve been with me any length of time, you know I’m a huge fan of shopping small when it comes to businesses. But I also want a way to say thank you to you for being so awesome! So consider this my happy place for us all!
Your Book Boxes
I’m prepping them as we speak! Some, unfortunately, will have to wait until I have the printed copies of Seer’s Sacrifice in my hot little hands, but the rest of you have your boxes stacked and your shipping labels stacked (literally) beside me and about ready to go! I should have them out by Saturday!
And just a note, I want to thank each and every one of you who ordered autographed copies from my personal store. Your support has been absolutely astounding. To be honest, when I got my business license and opened the personal store, I wasn’t sure if it would be worth it. But thanks to you, my kids are getting some new education equipment, and I’m just feeling overwhelmed in general by your support. I know things are tight for a lot of people, and words can’t express how much it means to see these stacks of books!
Also, thank you for your patience as I got the bugs sorted out. This shipping thing is still new, so I’m kind of stumbling through the process looking slightly less than graceful. After coming off the writer’s conference last week and dealing with more doctor fun this week, I’m behind where I wanted to be. But you’ve taught me a lot, and I can’t wait to make the process even smoother next time!
The Seer’s Secret is in Audiobook!!!
EEEEEEEEE!!!!! *Insert lots of girlie squeals here*
I can’t tell you how hard it’s been to wait for this, but it’s finally here!!! You can now get The Seer’s Secret in audiobook on Audible!!! It will be available on the other platforms as well in about three months as well!
If you haven’t given the sample a try, do it! I handpicked this narrator, and she did a wonderful job! Eirin sounds EXACTLY the way I imagined in my head.
Seer’s Sacrifice Sneak Peek#6
We’ve only got one more sneak peek after this because The Seer’s Sacrifice rolls out November 30th! As I’m having a hard time waiting, however, I assume you are too. (Or is that just me projecting?) We’ll assume for the time being that you are, and we’ll remedy that by sending you more of the story! I hope you’re enjoying these little glimpses into the final destination of Eirin and Drystan’s journey!
The next evening was a somber one as the group packed up what little they had left and continued their journey. Thane was the only one who seemed unaffected by the Sprites’ theft. He whistled as he tied up the men’s tent, a strange sound against the quiet of the twilight as he ignored the pointed glares Nuru continued to send his way.
“We should be reaching Eedn in the next day or so,” Isayas said, studying Eirin’s map. He glanced up at their motley group, his gaze landing finally on Drystan. “Though I’m not sure they’ll let us in.”
Drystan felt his face heat. He knew what that meant.
“We have a Human,” Thane chuckled, abandoning his whistling to speak. “I’m pretty sure that qualifies us to go anywhere.”
“What is Eedn?” Qeb asked. “I’ve heard it mentioned several times in Mhaedin.”
Isayas carefully rolled the map and placed it back in its leather tube.
“Eedn is a garden,” Isayas said as he glanced at Drystan again. “And it’s one of the last bastions of life for the people in lower Solevar. It was built and kept by the Nymphs hundreds of years ago as a place to grow food for the poor and sick. They keep and guard it jealously.”
“Does it still grow food?” Qeb asked.
Isayas sighed. “Last I heard. But so did Mhaedin. And as much as I hope Eirin’s presence will buy us access, I’m afraid it will be very difficult to get everyone in.”
“And by everyone,” Drystan said, hoisting his pack on his shoulder, “you mean me.” He felt Qeb stiffen beside him as he said the words, but he kept his eyes on the Wizard.
Isayas met his gaze unhappily, his blue eyes seeming paler than usual. “We’ll see. No use borrowing trouble before we must.”
After that, everyone but Eirin, Callispa, and the Wizard shifted. But before Eirin climbed on Drystan’s back, she stepped in close.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” She paused and swallowed hard. “And I think you’re right. We need to talk.” She glanced at the others. “Alone.”
In spite of himself, Drystan’s heart leaped in his chest, burning with pleasure as Eirin watched him. After being all but ignored for weeks, he craved her attention like a Merperson searching for water.
But she said no more, simply waiting for his nod and then climbing onto his back with Qeb’s gentle assistance.
Drystan wanted to talk then and there. He knew, however, that he had no choice but to begin the trek.
The journey really was beginning to grow monotonous. The southeastern forests of Solevar didn’t look nearly as large on the map as they did in person. When they’d first set out, he’d been sure, in spite of the Wizard’s cautions, that they would be at the garden within a week at the most. But the pursuit of the Goblins and then Eirin’s delicate condition had made travel painfully slow, and Drystan caught himself wondering often if they would ever actually reach Eedn.
Let alone Iilaedin.
The clouds obscured the moonlight that night, which slowed their progress even more than usual. Callispa mumbled often about not being able to see the way with her Human eyes until Qeb finally swept her up in his strong arms.
This, of course, made her protest more until he answered evenly, “You can shift, of course. But only if you want to draw the entire forest’s attention.”
“Fine,” Callispa snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “But at least let me ride on your back. You’ll be bent like an old woman if you carry me this way all night.”
When everyone was finally situated, their trek grew quiet as they walked. Drystan could feel Callispa’s gaze on him whenever they had a brief glimpse of the moon as it peeked out from behind thick clouds. He kept his eyes on the path.
They were only a few hours from dawn when Eirin, whom Drystan had been sure was asleep, made a choking sound. Panic and dread coursed through him as he immediately knelt so the Wizard could yank her off. Everyone held their breath as Isayas whispered several rushed words over her, and the gem at the top of his staff lit with a soft glow. Nuru and Thane ran to hold her for him as he began rummaging around in his bag.
Though he worked quickly, every minute felt eternal as he struggled to uncork several of his little bottles of herbs and minerals. Drystan was about two seconds from smashing the glass with his teeth when Isayas finally got them open. Still muttering incoherently, he dabbed a little of each bottle into his hand, where he mixed them with his fingers and then blew the flakes onto Eirin’s face.
A collective sigh of relief sounded when Eirin finally drew a jagged breath in. Then she began to sob.
Isayas put his bottles down and drew her into his chest. She let him, leaning into him limply as he whispered into her hair. But this time, Drystan knew he wasn’t chanting incantations.
“We’ll camp here today,” Callispa said, hopping off Qeb’s back. “I like these rocky outcrops. They’ll be good for shelter in case it rains.”
Taking her hint, Thane and Qeb began to help her set up camp. Nuru and Drystan remained, watching Isayas rock Eirin in his arms as tears still ran down her face.
“That’s why I don’t want to go to sleep!” Eirin whimpered. “It’s coming soon! I can feel it. And I don’t want to–”
“Shhh,” Isayas said softly. His eyes met Drystan’s, and Drystan could see that the Wizard was crying, too. “Shhh, it’s not time yet. You’re alive and with us, and you’ll be all right.”
In that moment, Drystan was seized by a sudden longing for his mother. It was a strange feeling. He’d spent his entire life believing his parents were dead and he was the recipient of relatives’ charity. Only in the last year had he realized his parents were not only alive, but people he saw every day. And while he hadn’t been particularly close to her, he had a sudden sharp longing for her. Just having her near would have been a comfort. Someone safe with whom he could feel vulnerable.
“I’m scared,” Eirin whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “The darkness is cold. And when I’m asleep, I can feel its fingers around me.”
“Nonsense,” Isayas said, clearing his throat once, twice. “Even when death does take you, the Time Keeper won’t allow the darkness to steal you away. His sons and daughters go to a place that’s bright and warm.”
“Speaking of darkness,” Nuru said, clearing her own throat, “I think we should get you cleaned up and fed.” She held her arms out, a soft affection in her eyes Drystan was sure he had never seen there before. Like a mother hen, clucking to her chick.
Eirin nodded and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. She didn’t meet Drystan’s gaze as she let Nuru lead her back to the tent, which Callispa was holding open for them. Drystan and the Wizard watched them go. Then Drystan turned to Isayas.
“That’s why you go every night, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isayas grumbled as he bent to gather his bottles.
“You don’t want to see what the curse is doing to her. So when we finally make camp every night, and you’re done with all your spells, you escape.”
“I gather herbs and minerals to keep her alive!” Isayas snapped, his eyes flashing in another brief moonbeam. They glared at one another for a moment until Isayas seemed to deflate. He looked down at his torn medicine bag.
“It’s like watching Sarah all over again,” he whispered. “And having Eirin…” He gave a shuddering sigh. “I never had a child. But I can only imagine her as everything Sarah would have ever wanted. Watching her fade is more…” His voice broke, and Drystan wanted to comfort him. But his own fear stuck in his throat, and he could only put his hand on the old man’s arm and give it a squeeze.
Callispa was right. The rocky outcroppings were a welcome change from the never-ending forest they had been traveling through for nearly three weeks. The sharp rocks that edged a small stream stuck up out of the ground like slabs of tabletops that had been half buried on an angle. The one Callispa had chosen to make camp beside was large enough for them to all sit beneath in a circle around the fire. And because they had made camp earlier than usual, they stayed up and talked about everything and nothing. Anything, it seemed, to not dwell on what had just taken place. Drystan was, as always, aware of Callispa’s gaze, but his heart was with the girl in the tent.
An hour later, Nuru emerged.
“She’s feeling better,” she announced to the group. Then she looked at Drystan. “But she’s asking for you.” Drystan felt his heart both leap and simultaneously flop into his stomach as he nodded and stood. But as he made his way to the tent’s entrance, Nuru grabbed his arm.
“Dragon or not, prince or not, if you hurt her, I will make sure you hurt as well,” she said through gritted teeth.
Drystan gave her a dry smile. “You’ll have to get in line.”
At the start of the journey, the Wizard had gifted Eirin a special rock that glowed when she spoke to it. A fireless light to help her dress and sleep by, as she lacked the shifter vision the rest of them possessed. It was a useful gift, as it didn’t cast much light through the tent walls. Drystan was greeted by this soft light as he lifted the tent’s flap.
“Nuru says you’re feeling better,” he said, forcing a smile as he stepped cautiously inside. Better to be lighthearted and cautious so as not to betray the depth of the fear that was eating him from the inside.
Eirin shrugged. She was lying back on her mat, a thin blanket rolled up like a pillow beneath her head. “I always feel better after a bath. I just hate that Nuru has to give them to me.” She made a face. “It can’t be very fun for her.”
“Nuru knows,” Drystan said, tucking the blanket up under Eirin’s chin, “that the world needs you to survive. I think she’d chew your food for you if she thought it would help.”
Eirin made a gagging sound, but it was sweet to Drystan’s ears. At least she hadn’t lost her sense of humor.
“But I’m guessing,” Drystan continued, “that you didn’t call me here to talk about the sudden appearance of Nuru’s maternal instincts.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eirin pushed herself into a sitting position. Then she put her hands in her lap and looked at Drystan. “We’ve danced around this issue enough, so I’m going to come right out and say it. You need to be Solevar’s next king.”
Drystan stared at her. “Well,” he managed to say after a moment, trying to order his thoughts, “that’s one way to get to the point.”
A laugh sounded from outside. It was a sound they didn’t hear much of these days. He wondered what they were talking about.
“I think,” Drystan said after a moment, “that we need to focus on just getting you to Iilaedin. Then we can figure out what we need when we get there.”
Eirin glared at him. “You said you wanted to hear what I thought.”
“And I do,” he said. “But I happen to disagree slightly.”
“That’s not good enough.” Eirin shook her head.
“Very well,” he said, folding his own arms to mimic hers. “Then tell me why I need to fight for a throne that I don’t deserve and very few would want me to have.”
“As long as the Time Stones have been standing, there’s been a son of Oreck on the throne,” Eirin said. “Isayas explained it to me the other day. In the Rite of the Blood Fire Throne, the princes all bleed onto the throne. The blood flows down into a special dais beneath the throne. The magic in the blood ignites in the dais, and the prince whose blood has the brightest flames is the one the Time Keeper has chosen as king.”
Drystan’s head swam. He’d often considered the possibility that his involvement might be required. But Kamon’s sin had tainted his blood, and he was fairly convinced attempting to gain power would only make things worse, not only for him, but for Solevar as a whole.
But the way Eirin was glaring at him now made it quite obvious she would never accept such a theory. So he leaned forward and gently mussed her hair.
“True as that may be,” he said, forcing a smile, “we still have to get there first.”
Eirin shook her head. “We can’t just fix the Time Stones and expect everything to return to normal. The Time Stones only stopped working because those who should have guarded the kingdom broke their vows. Fixing the Time Stones alone will help, but allowing the princes’ vow to remain broken could make the curse final.”
“Eirin–”
“Solevar has never been without a protector!” Eirin hissed. “At least…not before the curse. Do you really want to stake the fate of the kingdom and everyone we love on the idea that removing a broken rock is going to fix it all?”
Drystan tried to think of something to say to lighten the mood, or at least to deflect with humor. But all he could do was rub his eyes.
“Eirin, the people of Mhaedin didn’t think I was worthy of living in their city, let alone sitting on a throne. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what they were afraid I would try to do. I’m the embodiment of the curse itself.”
Eirin’s brown eyes burned, and her skin flushed, and for a brief second, she looked healthy and strong again.
“I never believed that for a second. Listen to me, Drystan.” She leaned forward and took his face in her hands, pulling him close to her. Drystan’s heart stumbled as her small hands gently pressed against his skin.
“You,” she said in a whisper as she searched his face, “are not Kamon.”
“No,” he said with a sad smile. “But his blood flows in my veins.”
She let go of his face, but her eyes stayed on his. “That doesn’t matter.”
Drystan let out a sigh. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, how do we even do any of this without addressing the mess we left behind?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t exactly leave my uncle on good terms.”
Not on good terms was an understatement. Drystan’s great-great uncle, Rangvald, had tried to kill him the last time they’d met. And then Drystan had succeeded in stealing his uncle’s prized Human. Drystan’s other uncle, Karolus, had sacrificed himself so they might get away.
Eirin frowned, and her shoulders drooped. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.” Her eyes met Drystan’s again. “But what I can tell you is that Rangvald wants the throne, and he’ll do anything to get it. You know that he killed Karolus’s father and son, right?”
Drystan nodded.
“Right. And he can’t be allowed to lay claim to the throne outside of the rite. We’ll need to beat him to Iilaedin.” She paused. “There has to be a way to get there before him. Or, if we don’t, to outsmart him somehow.”
“You don’t think he’ll simply concede if you sneak up and fix the Time Stones without him?” Drystan asked.
“No. He doesn’t want the Time Stones fixed. Or rather, he wants them fixed, but he wants something else even more.” Eirin’s brow furrowed. “He’s desperate to be king.”
Drystan huffed and ran his hands through his hair. It had grown longer over the last few weeks. He’d have to ask one of the others to cut it again soon to keep it out of his face.
“Why do you think he’s so determined to be king, even if it comes at the cost of Solevar?”
“I think,” Eirin said slowly, “that he plans to fulfill his own desires by being the only heir alive left to claim the throne. Perhaps whatever he was doing was what led to the rift between the brothers before the curse fell.” She paused. “Either way, there’s no competition when all of your alternatives are dead. And if that were the case, he could simply carry out the rite on his own and be guaranteed to be chosen.” She narrowed her eyes. “So think about it as you hesitate because it comes down to this. Karolus is dead. There are only two people left who can claim the throne in a way that will satisfy the magic.” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you really want him to be king?”
“Maybe he’d be better. Who knows?” Drystan tried to give her a teasing smile.
But instead of smiling back, Eirin’s eyes grew hard like steel.
“Good night,” she snapped as she lay down and rolled over.
Drystan, not sure what else to do, stood to go. But at the foot of the tent, he turned and said softly, “I’ll consider it. I promise.”
“You’d better,” Eirin said without turning.
Pre-order The Seer’s Sacrifice now!
What do you think of this week’s announcements? Let me know in the comments below! I hope your Thanksgiving is full to bursting of family and counting your blessings. And if you get a moment, send me pictures!