“. . . and Hercules, in great pain and suffering, begged his friends to light a huge fire that reached into the heavens. Then he threw himself on the fire, desperate to extinguish the agony of the poison that had been rubbed on his skin.
“From high on Mount Olympus, mighty Zeus looked down on his son, and seeing the torment of his heroic offspring, turned to his vindictive wife and said. ‘He has suffered enough. He has proven himself.’
“Hera, looking down on Hercules, took pity on him and agreed, sending her blazing chariot from the sky to lift Hercules up and take him to his place among the Gods, where the much-beloved hero still lives on to this day,” Ambrose said softly, and shut the book firmly, hoping there wouldn’t be pleas for more.
But silence greeted the triumphant finish, and Ambrose looked down at his son, wondering if somewhere between the twelfth labor and the end the six-year-old had fallen asleep. Vivid red curls danced around his son’s animated face, but the big dark eyes were wide open and sober with thought.
“Dad, are you as strong as Hercules?”
Ambrose bit back a smile and swooped his little dreamer up in his arms and tucked him into bed. Story time had gone long, it was way past bedtime, and Fern was somewhere in the house dreaming up her own story. Ambrose had every intention of interrupting her.
“Dad, do you think I could be a hero like Hercules someday?”
“You don’t have to be like Hercules, buddy.” Ambrose flipped off the light and paused at the door. “There are all kinds of heroes.”
“Yeah. I guess. Good night, Dad!”
“Good night, Bailey.”
With every book, the list of people that deserve thanks and accolades grows exponentially. First, I need to thank my husband, Travis. Travis is a wrestler, and I’m convinced the sport of wrestling builds good men. Thank you for your support, T. Thank you for making it possible for me to be a mother and a writer.
Thanks to my children, Paul, Hannah, Claire, and little Sam. I know it’s not easy when I’m off in my head playing with my characters. Thank you for loving me anyway. To my extended family – Sutoriuses and Harmons both – thank you. Mom and Dad, thank you for letting me hide in your basement and write, weekend after weekend. I love you both so much.
A special acknowledgement goes to Aaron Roos, my husband’s cousin, who suffers from Dushenne muscular dystrophy. Aaron just turned twenty-four and is going strong! Thank you, Aaron, for your candor, your optimism, and for spending the afternoon with me. Bailey really came alive because of you. To David and Angie (Harmon) Roos, Aaron’s parents – I am so moved by both of you and respect you so much. Thank you for your strength and your example.
To Eric Shepherd, thank you for your military service and for looking out for my little brother in Iraq. And thank you for giving me a glimpse of what it’s really like for the soldiers when they’re gone and when they come home.
To Andy Espinoza, retired police sergeant, thank you for your help with police procedure. You have been wonderful on the last two books. Thank you!
Thanks to Cristina’s Book Reviews and Vilma’s Book Blog! Vilma and Cristina, you are my Thelma and Louise. Thank you for taking the cliff with me and promoting Making Faces with such enthusiasm and class. And for Totally Booked Blog – Jenny and Gitte – you ladies put A Different Blue over the top, and I will be forever grateful for your belief in me and for always giving it to me straight.
There are too many loyal readers and bloggers to thank, but know how much I appreciate all of you for some truly humbling support. Thank you.
To Janet Sutorius, Alice Landwehr, Shannon McPherson, and Emma Corcoran for being my first readers. To Karey White, author and editor extraordinare (check out My Own Mr. Darcy) for editing Making Faces. To Julie Titus, formatter and friend, for always making time for me. To my agent, Chris Park, for believing in me and taking me on.
And finally, to my Heavenly Father for making even ugly things beautiful.
Amy Harmon knew at an early age that writing was something she wanted to do–and she divided her time between writing songs and stories as she grew. Having grown up in the middle of wheat fields without a television, with only her books and her siblings to entertain her, she developed a strong sense of what made a good story. Amy Harmon has been a motivational speaker, a grade school teacher, a junior high teacher, a home school mom, and a member of the Grammy Award winning Saints Unified Voices Choir, directed by Gladys Knight. She released a Christian Blues CD in 2007 called “What I Know”–also available on Amazon and wherever digital music is sold. Her first two books, “Running Barefoot” and “Slow Dance in Purgatory” are rich with humor, heart, and fast paced story telling.