Who are we?

Before I dive into the heavy stuff I wanted to share in some exciting news.
​While I've been working away on my Moto X Series, I've been steadily getting The Predator Part One geared up for my editor. Just four weeks from tomorrow until I send it to her!
​But that's not my news. My news is this. Starting this coming Tuesday, The Predator Part One will be available for preorder at Amazon for Kindle. For those who will preorder will get a special treat of the first two, yes I said two, chapters of Part Two! This two part book holds a very special part of my heart that leads me into my next part of this Friday post.
​On Sunday, while the United States and around the world remember everything that took place on American soil that fateful morning in 2001, my family, friends, and I also remember something else that took place two years ago that same day.
​Last year I talked about how much I've changed since being sick, and this year I am grateful and look back knowing I survived something many others don't. Why is that? Could it be the medical help I got? Or my overpowering will to live that drove me to fight for my life? Maybe it was God's way of showing me a different way to live my life and that I needed to be stronger. Whatever the case I feel stronger, more empowered, and proud of myself than I ever did in the past. While was confined to a hospital bed I daydreamed of a book I wanted to write so badly, but I didn't have the strength to even sit up and write it. So when the day came that I was able to sit tall at my computer again and write I wrote both parts of the Predator in two months.
​These books are so different from My Cowboy that I'm nervous about them, but thanks to my Beta Babe, I'm excited to share them.
​But enough about me. I don't like dwelling on myself when so many other lives were changed and altered in 2001 and the years that have followed. Instead, I want to share with you what I feel I need to say as a human living in the United States, in North America, in the western hemisphere, and a reside of the whole planet.
​Everyone has a light to them. It doesn't matter their religious beliefs, how they dress, where they live, who they vote for, or who they love. Yes, there are people who are so dark you can't see the light in them, but it is still there clinging to the slim chance of hope that someone will see that light and reach out to them.
​Too much is dwelled on anything just because a viewpoint is different, because someone isn't like you. That's wrong. We have let our views cloud the world around us like a thick fog of hatred. But honesty, how different am I from a mother in Africa? Asia? Europe? The Middle East? Anywhere who sends my child to school every morning and prays he comes back to me at the end of each day? It doesn't matter who I pray to. It doesn't matter how my son gets to and from school or how he is dressed or even who he says "I love you" to when he steps onto that bus.
​As a mother, I don't teach my kids one set of beliefs. That is something they well figure out as they get older. Instead I teach them love. Love their neighbors, love their friends and family, love to the child who acts out because their home life is so different from their own that the child is just looking for someone to care. I don't teach my boys to turn their noses at someone for anything they chose to believe in, love, live, or actions. I think it is a dying practice and more parents need to teach love rather than hate. Embrace everyone for who they are because our individuality makes us human, makes us the human race, and makes our world so diverse and wonderful.
​x Brooke