Skip to main content

Psalm 118:6

Psalm 118:6 Dear Lord, Thank you so much that you are always with me. Thank you for reminding me that I don’t need to be afraid because you’re there, watching over me. Thank you that you are far greater than anything that could happen to me in this world, and I need only trust in you. Amen 詩篇118:6 親愛なる主よ、 あなたがいつも私と共にいてくださることを心から感謝します。あなたがそこにいて、私を見守っていてくださるので、恐れる必要がないことを思い出させてくださりありがとうございます。あなたはこの世で私に起こりうるどんなことよりもはるかに偉大な方であり、私はただあなたを信じるだけでよいことを感謝します。 アーメン

Interview and excerpt - BLOOD RANSOM by Lisa Harris

Captain's Log, Stardate 04.19.2010

Blood Ransom
by
Lisa Harris


Natalie Sinclair is working to eradicate the diseases decimating whole villages in the Republic of Dhambizao when she meets Dr. Chad Talcott, a surgeon on sabbatical from a lucrative medical practice now volunteering at a small clinic.

Meanwhile, things are unraveling in Dhambizao. Joseph Komboli returns to his village to discover rebel soldiers abducting his family and friends. Those that were too old or weak to work lay motionless in the African soil. When Chad and Natalie decide to help Joseph expose this modern-day slave trade—and a high-ranking political figure involved in it—disaster nips at their heels.

Where is God in the chaos? Will Chad, Natalie, and Joseph win their race against time?

Romance and adventure drive Blood Ransom, by Lisa Harris, a powerful thriller about the modern-day slave trade and those who dare to challenge it.




Excerpt of chapter one:

PROLOGUE
A narrow shaft of sunlight broke through the thick canopy of leaves
above Joseph Komboli’s short frame and pierced through to the layers
of vines that crawled along the forest floor. He trudged past a spiny
tree trunk — one of hundreds whose flat crowns reached toward the
heavens before disappearing into the cloudless African sky — and
smiled as the familiar hum of the forest welcomed him home.


A trickle of moisture dripped down the back of his neck, and he
reached up to brush it away, then flicked at a mosquito. The musty
smell of rotting leaves and sweet flowers encircled him, a sharp con-
trast to the stale exhaust fumes of the capital’s countless taxis or the
stench of hundreds of humans pressed together on the dilapidated
cargo boat he’d left at the edge of the river this morning.


Another flying insect buzzed in his ears, its insistent drone
drowned out only by the birds chattering in the treetops. He slapped
the insect away and dug into the pocket of his worn trousers for a
handful of fire-roasted peanuts, still managing to balance the bag that
rested atop his head. His mother’s sister had packed it for him, ensur-
ing that the journey — by taxi, boat, and now foot — wouldn’t leave his
belly empty. Once, not too long ago, he had believed no one living in
the mountain forests surrounding his village, or perhaps even in all of
Africa, could cook goza and fish sauce like his mother. But now, hav-
ing ventured from the dense and sheltering rainforest, he knew she
was only one of thousands of women who tirelessly pounded cassava
and prepared the thick stew for their families day after day.


Still, his mouth watered at the thought of his mother’s cooking.
The capital of Bogama might offer running water and electricity for
those willing to forfeit a percentage of their minimal salaries, but
even the new shirt and camera his uncle had given him as parting
gifts weren’t enough to lessen his longings for home.


He wrapped the string of the camera around his wrist and felt
his heart swell with pride. No other boy in his village owned such a
stunning piece. Not that the camera was a frivolous gift. Not at all.
His uncle called it an investment in the future. In the city lived a
never-ending line of men and women willing to pay a few cents for a
color photo. When he returned to Bogama for school, he planned to
make enough money to send some home to his family — something
that guaranteed plenty of meat and cassava for the evening meal.


Anxious to give his little sister, Aina, one of the sweets tucked
safely in his pocket and his mother the bag of sugar he carried, Joseph
quickened his steps across the red soil, careful to avoid a low limb
swaying under the weight of a monkey.


A cry shattered the relative calm of the forest.


Joseph slowed as the familiar noises of the forest faded into the
shouts of human voices. More than likely the village children had
finished collecting water from the river and now played a game of
chase or soccer with a homemade ball.


The wind blew across his face, sending a chill down his spine as
he neared the thinning trees at the edge of the forest. Another scream
split the afternoon like a sharpened machete.


Joseph stopped. These were not the sounds of laughter.


Dropping behind the dense covering of the large leaves, Joseph
approached the outskirts of the small village, straining his eyes in an
effort to decipher the commotion before him. At first glance every-
thing appeared familiar. Two dozen mud huts with thatched roofs
greeted him like an old friend. Tendrils of smoke rose from fires
beneath rounded cooking pots that held sauce for evening meals.
Brightly colored pieces of fabric fluttered in the breeze as freshly
laundered clothes soaked up the warmth of the afternoon sun.


His gaze flickered to a figure emerging from behind one of the
grass-thatched huts. Black uniform . . . rifle pressed against his shoul-
der . . . Joseph felt his lungs constrict. Another soldier emerged, then
another, until there were half a dozen shouting orders at the confused
villagers who stumbled onto the open area in front of them. Joseph
watched as his best friend Mbona tried to fight back, but his hoe was
no match against the rifle butt that struck his head. Mbona fell to
the ground.


Ghost Soldiers!


A wave of panic, strong as the mighty Congo River rushing
through its narrow tributaries, ripped through Joseph’s chest. He
gasped for breath, his chest heaving as air refused to fill his lungs.
The green forest spun. Gripping the sturdy branch of a tree, he man-
aged to suck in a shallow breath.


He’d heard his uncle speak of the rumored Ghost Soldiers —
mercenaries who appeared from nowhere and kidnapped human la-
borers to work as slaves for the mines. Inhabitants of isolated villages
could disappear without a trace and no one would ever know.


Except he’d thought such myths weren’t true.


The sight of his little sister told him otherwise. His mind fought
to grasp what was happening. Blood trickled down the seven-year-
old’s forehead as she faltered in front of the soldiers with her hands
tied behind her.


No!


Unable to restrain himself, Joseph lunged forward but tripped
over a knotty vine and fell. A twig snapped, startling a bird into flight
above him.


The soldier turned from his sister and stared into the dense fo-
liage. Joseph lay flat against the ground, his hand clasped over the
groan escaping his throat. The soldier hesitated a moment longer, then
grabbed his sister’s arm and pulled her to join the others.


Choking back a sob, Joseph rose to his knees and dug his fingers
into the hard earth. What could he do? Nothing. He was no match
for these men. If he didn’t remain secluded behind the cover of the
forest, he too would vanish along with his family.


The haunting sounds of screams mingled with gunshots. His
grandfather fell to the ground and Joseph squeezed his eyes shut,
blackness enveloping him. It was then, as he pressed his hand against
his pounding chest, that he felt the camera swinging against his wrist.
He stared at the silver case. Slowly, he pressed the On button.


This time, the world would know.


With a trembling arm Joseph lifted the camera. Careful to stay
within the concealing shade of the forest, he snapped a picture with-
out bothering to aim as his uncle had taught him. He took another
photo, and another, and another . . . until the cries of his people dis-
sipated on the north side of the clearing as the soldiers led those
strong enough to work toward the mountains. The rest — those like
his grandfather, too old or too weak to work in the mines — lay mo-
tionless against the now bloodstained African soil.


In the remaining silence, the voices of two men drifted across the
breeze. English words were foreign to his own people’s uneducated
ears but had become familiar to Joseph. What he heard now brought
a second wave of terror . . .


“Only four more days until we are in power . . . There is no need
to worry . . . The president will be taken care of . . . I can personally
guarantee the support of this district . . .”


Joseph zoomed in and took a picture of the two men.


A monkey jumped to the tree above him and started chattering.
One of the beefy soldiers jerked around, his attention drawn to the
edge of the clearing. Joseph froze as his gaze locked with the man’s.


Someone shouted.


If they caught him now, no one would ever know what had hap-
pened to his family.


Joseph scrambled to his feet as the soldier ran toward him, but the
man was faster. The butt of a rifle struck Joseph’s head. He faltered,
but as a trickle of blood dripped into his eye, he pictured Aina being
led away . . . his grandfather murdered in cold blood . . .


Ignoring the searing pain, Joseph fought to pull loose from his
attacker’s grip, kicked at the man’s shins. The soldier faltered on the
uneven terrain. Clambering to his feet, Joseph ran into the cover of
the forest. A rifle fired, and the bullet whizzed past his ear, but he
kept moving. With the Ghost Soldier in pursuit, Joseph sprinted as
fast as he could through the tangled foliage and prayed that the thick
jungle would swallow him.





Buy from Barnes and Noble
Buy from Christianbook.com
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Books a Million

And now, here’s me and Lisa!

What inspired you to write this book and these characters?

It was a combination of my love for Africa and writing romantic suspense. I wanted the characters to be ordinary people who ended up facing extraordinary circumstances where they were forced to rely on God.

What do you hope people will take away from this book?

Beside a couple hours page-turning read. :-) That none of us are too small for Him to use us.

If you were an ice cream flavor, what would you be and why?

Today I'm craving chocolate and trying to ignore the urge, so how about double chocolate with fudge ribbons. Yum!

What are you reading right now?

Tom Davis' Priceless that comes out this summer.

You're off the hotseat! Any parting words?

Thanks so much for letting me stop by, Camy! Readers can find out more about my books and life in Africa at http://myblogintheheartofafrica.blogspot.com.

Camy here: Thanks so much for being here with me, Lisa!

Popular Posts

Narrow Escape contest for January!

I’m so excited because my January Love Inspired Suspense, Narrow Escape , is now available! Here’s the back cover blurb: KIDNAPPED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT Arissa Tiong and her three-year-old niece are snatched off the street by members of a notorious drug gang. Having lost her police officer brother to a drug bust gone bad, Arissa knows the danger she's in. But she has no idea why they want her. Desperate to protect the little girl, Arissa escapes and runs straight to Nathan Fischer. She knows the handsome, weary former narcotics cop hasn't told her everything about the night that ended her brother's life and Nathan's career. But he's all that stands between her and dangerous thugs who are after something she doesn't even know she has. This is the 4th book in my Sonoma series , but each book is stand-alone. The hero is Nathan Fischer, who had a minor role in the 3rd book, Stalker in the Shadows . To celebrate, I’m giving away 10 copies of Narrow Escape ! Her

Bethany House Publishers Cover Survey Invitation

Captain's Log, Supplemental I just got this from Bethany House Publishers: Hello Reader, We at Bethany House Publishers appreciate our readers opinions about the books we publish. Occasionally, we seek your input about upcoming products. Currently, we are conducting a survey about the cover image for an upcoming novel. For your time, we are offering a giveaway in conjunction with this survey. You will be able to choose from ten recent Bethany House novels, and there will be ten winners. Winners will be notified within two weeks. Click here to take the survey, which should take about 10 minutes to complete. Thank you for your participation, and feel free to forward this email on to your friends or link the survey on your website. The survey will be available through Monday, September 17. Thanks for your time and your opinions. We value your feedback. Sincerely, Jim Hart Internet Marketing Manager Bethany House Publishers

Tabi socks, part deux

Captain's Log, Stardate 07.25.2008 (If you're on Ravelry, friend me! I'm camytang.) I made tabi socks again! (At the bottom of the pattern is the calculation for the toe split if you're not using the same weight yarn that I did for this pattern (fingering). I also give an example from when I used worsted weight yarn with this pattern.) I used Opal yarn, Petticoat colorway. It’s a finer yarn than my last pair of tabi socks, so I altered the pattern a bit. Okay, so here’s my first foray into giving a knitting pattern. Camy’s top-down Tabi Socks I’m assuming you already know the basics of knitting socks. If you’re a beginner, here are some great tutorials: Socks 101 How to Knit Socks The Sock Knitter’s Companion A video of turning the heel Sock Knitting Tips Yarn: I have used both fingering weight and worsted weight yarn with this pattern. You just change the number of cast on stitches according to your gauge and the circumference of your ankle. Th

What I’m writing in Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 7: Spinster

Right now, I’m working on Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 7: Spinster . Here’s a snippet—it’s a little long, but I figured you wouldn’t mind, right? *** Lady Faine was nearest to the window and turned to look outside. “I do believe I hear a carriage approaching.” “Another one?” Lena asked. “Or is Mrs. Aldred returning?” “if she is, you know exactly what to say to her to induce her to scurry away, my lady,” Dorothea said with a smirk. “Naughty girl,” Lady Faine admonished half-heartedly. Lena could have wished for better timing of the new visitor. Simply thirty minutes later, and she would have had the information from Lady Faine about possible new neighbors who could be Dinorah Seiles in disguise. From the deep voice they heard from the entrance hall downstairs, the visitor was a man, but they couldn’t discern his words as he spoke to the butler. “Oh dear,” Lady Faine said. “Sir Gilbert is out in his fields at the moment with Wilfrid.” “Perhaps he will return later,”

Movie Quotes part deux

Captain's Log, Stardate 05.27.2009 I had so much fun with this before that I decided to do it again! You guys are just too good! RULES: 1. Pick 15 of your favorite movies. Or movies that you have seen 2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie. 3. Post them here for everyone to GUESS (please don't Google it or do a search on IMDB--what's the fun in that?). 4. When someone guesses correctly, put who guessed it and the movie. 1. I do anything and everything Mr. Stark requires. Including occasionally taking out the trash. Will that be all? Ironman kalea_kane 2. Cassie, his heart will stop at the sight of you, or he doesn't deserve to live. And, yes, I am aware of the contradiction embodied in that sentence. 3. The code is more what you'd call "guidelines" than actual rules. Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl Ruth 4. I don't LIKE food. I LOVE it. If I don't love it, I don't SWALLOW. Ratatouille Danica/Dream and Charity Lane

Free Clean Romance Ebooks

Sign up for these authors’ newsletters and get free books! Click on the graphic to check out all the free books. You might find a new favorite author! Free Clean Romance Ebooks

Blueberry mochi

Captain’s Log, Supplemental Blog book giveaway: To enter, go to the blog links below and post a comment there. Tangerine by Marilynn Griffith Chocolate Beach by Julie Carobini MOCHI!!! I grew up eating mochi. It’s a sweet, sticky treat, made in various ways, that I ate about as often as any other American kid would eat chocolate cake. The easiest is mochi baked in a pan, which I always knew as butter mochi. It’s also called custard mochi. The ladies at my church are FABULOUS cooks and bakers, and the church has “Happy Hour” once a month where women take their turns cooking or baking little treats for people to eat while they hang out after service. (I referenced Happy Hour in my second book in my Sushi Series! LOL) My husband brought home something one of the ladies made for Happy Hour. It’s a new take on butter mochi—blueberry mochi! I searched online until I found this recipe at JustJennDesigns.com , which is altered from the original. However, I think this is the recipe that was

Psalm 118:6

Psalm 118:6 Dear Lord, Thank you so much that you are always with me. Thank you for reminding me that I don’t need to be afraid because you’re there, watching over me. Thank you that you are far greater than anything that could happen to me in this world, and I need only trust in you. Amen 詩篇118:6 親愛なる主よ、 あなたがいつも私と共にいてくださることを心から感謝します。あなたがそこにいて、私を見守っていてくださるので、恐れる必要がないことを思い出させてくださりありがとうございます。あなたはこの世で私に起こりうるどんなことよりもはるかに偉大な方であり、私はただあなたを信じるだけでよいことを感謝します。 アーメン

Thrift store junkie

My To Be Read pile is as mountainous as it is mostly because of thrift stores. I haven’t had as much time to do this lately, but I love going into thrift stores like Goodwill and Salvation Army and perusing their book section, looking for Regency romances. I especially look for the mass market paperback novels of the category Regency romances that used to be printed years ago by Harlequin, Zebra, Fawcett, and Signet. They typically have pretty recognizable spines. I can spend a good hour looking for Regencies at a thrift store if they have a good book section. After a while, I had to take with me a list of the books I already have (titles and authors) so that I don’t get duplicates. I have not had as much luck at garage sales. Whenever I did the round of sales in my area, there weren’t many boxes of Regency romances--there were usually other genres instead. :( I also did buy some boxes of books on eBay where the sellers would auction off a huge box of Regencies, but after a w

New book idea a la Captain Caffeine

Captain's Log, Stardate 04.14.2009 So my husband, Captain Caffeine, had lunch with a few friends a few days ago. And they asked about my writing, and if I’d been on Oprah yet. (Yeah, right) They then discussed NYT bestselling books, and why can’t Camy write a NYT bestseller. (Sure, let me just open a vein over a blank page and it’ll come right out.) So Captain Caffeine came home with ideas for my new NYT bestselling novel. First it starts with vampires, because Twilight is so hot. But not just any vampires. This one’s an Amish vampire. And he’s not just an Amish vampire, he’s a cop in disguise, infiltrating the Amish community to protect a witness. (Hmm, that storyline sounds familiar ...) But wait! There’s more! To add more conflict and stick with my brand of Asian fiction, we introduce the Tibetan monk! Who joins the Amish community to get away from the pressures of monkhood. But in reality, he’s protecting the Chinese princess on the run, trying to escape from her father’s Hong