Readers, you may be seeing a theme in these acknowledgments, in that I always mention my friend and critique partner, Valerie Comer. I have to give her top billing in this book though. Not that order of mention has anything to do with it…. Oh, I’m digging myself a hole, aren’t I? Anyway, Val, at this very moment, is squinting at her computer monitor trying to finish the last of the critique a mere seventy minutes before the book is due. I feel guilty, but ever so grateful. I’m going to do my very best to never put her in that position again. But it’s cool to know that she’ll stick with me even if I do.
I also want to acknowledge my family. This book came as the wrap-up to a slew of book contracts that piled up at the same time. It was exciting trying to put together so many projects at the same time, but it definitely took its toll on the family. I appreciate them for sticking in there with me as I pursued something they won’t even get to hold for another eight months. Talk about delayed gratification.
A huge thank-you to my friends and prayer partners who kept me and my family in prayer while I wrote this book. Researching and delving into the world of spiritual warfare and the paranormal is unnerving and downright scary at times. Your prayers kept me grounded in truth and focused on the goal. We definitely saw spiritual fallout from my efforts with this story. But we also proved over and over that our Daddy is WAY bigger.
As always, my writer-sister-friends: Jenny B. Jones, Cara Putman, Kim Cash Tate, Cindy Thomson, Marybeth Whalen, and Kit Wilkinson. Thank you for the prayers and the refocusing efforts. I love you all.
Chip MacGregor, thank you for your efforts in pursuing this series, which was so important to me.
Friends at Barbour Publishing—you guys are amazing to work with. Every encounter I have is a pleasant one. From editors to designers to the sales team—you guys are awesome!
Special note to Kelly McIntosh. Thank you for working to bring materials to the YA audience and for going to bat for The Shadowed Onyx when it looked like it might slip through the cracks. You think maybe someone didn’t want this story told?
Frank and Pam Smith, my real-life Ben and Alicia Bradley. Thank you both for your hearts of service—to have embraced me as a sarcastic teenager, with all my troubles, and to still love me today, as your adopted daughter. And thank you for teaching me about spiritual warfare by living it out right in front of me. I love you.