Writing is my ministry-Dana Pratola

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            Our Todays Writer DANA PRATOLA

DANA PRATOLA  

 

   1. What you write?

    I write Christian (Inspirational) romance. It’s also classified as romantic suspense and in the case of the DESCENDED series, paranormal. I know “Christian” can scare some people off but it’s not what you might think. I write about real people with real problems and temptations. Sometimes my characters make really bad choices. And though it’s mainly about the romance, no topic is off limits. My first two books deal with hard life questions, including is it right to kill someone who really deserves it, abuse and human trafficking.

                       2. Why you write?  

         Writing is my ministry. It took me a while to realize that if God puts a strong desire in you to do something, He intends it to be used for Him, so that’s what I do.

  3. For whom you write?  

For God’s glory and my enjoyment but I really write for the reader. My focus is to show people – believers and unbelievers alike – that God isn’t mad at them. No matter what we’ve done, how bad we’ve messed up or how far we’ve fallen, He’s always there and wants to help.

                            Picture Courtesy: The Dream Factory

4. By whom you inspired?  

I love the classic authors, like Austen, Alcott, etc., but my writing influence has always been Nora Roberts. She doesn’t write Christian, but I love her style.

5.  You can Share some of your current writings with our readers...

This is from the beginning of the second book in the DESCENDED series, DESCENDED~Sebastian. Enjoy!

He was immune to most toxins and could breathe underwater, but even Sebastian wouldn’t stay submerged very long in a river ranked thirty-third top tainted in the U.S. Yet he enjoyed coming out here. Chemical contamination aside, the things he found in this stretch of sea were not to be believed, some pleasant, others bone chilling. He’d given more anonymous tips to the police department than he could count.

He bobbed at the surface, face up, straining to make out the next layer of stars, obscured as they were by the city lights and an ever-present sheet of pollution. In these hours he could be alone with his thoughts. Sometimes that was a bad thing, but he couldn’t help it.

He wanted to think only of Jill and her easy-going personality, bright smile, and long, lithe body that, he remembered with a smile of his own, could accommodate even the most demanding positions. But his mind continued to lay out the scene he would not only participate in, but initiate later today when he met with her, told her it was him, not her, and watched her eyes cloud with confusion. She would be taken by surprise, as women always were, but he had to end it before he started to think of her as more than a “one-nighter.”

Inevitably she would throw a drink in his face or rave, or both. She’d call him all kinds of names or turn to ice and tell him he was an unfeeling machine.

He didn’t know where women came up with that.  He felt plenty. Granted, most of it was physical, but even right now he felt regret over their next meeting. He also felt…anxious.

Devastated.

Lonely beyond bearing.

Desperate.

Sebastian shook his head, flinging drops of water off the ends of his hair and back to their source. No, that wasn’t him. He had no reason to feel any of those things. It was someone nearby.

His eyes darted around him. He was alone in the water. Of course he was. He moved closer to shore, extending his field of vision to the water’s edge, along the concrete walkways, further out to—

There she was. A young woman coming toward him. Tears ran down her face. But her eyes were empty, blank. She stopped at the steel rail separating her from a ten foot fall to the water below.

Sebastian dipped under, coming up beside a small pleasure boat where he could see her better. She looked to be about twenty. She wore no jacket and no shoes despite the dank chill in the early morning air. From this distance he could read her intentions clearly and her pain almost stole his breath. He lost it anyway when she stepped over the rail and dropped into the water, making no effort to paddle her arms or kick her legs, content to sink to the bottom of the abyss.

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