Heart of God

Ashley Beach

Description

Selah Cross has been accused of murder after a rare artifact connected to her parents’ death goes missing. Similar to National Treasure with a Biblical twist
Selah Cross's normal, quiet life is thrown into disarray and chaos when she meets Dylan Kinkaide.
A rare artifact that was connected to her parents' death resurfaces after fifteen years and could be the key to saving the museum she works at. When the artifact goes missing and the museum director ends up dead, Selah and Dylan must set off to find the artifact and prove her innocence while unearthing secrets from the past- not to mention the unexpected feelings for each other that they are reluctant to explore.
As different parts of Selah's life come into question, she has to figure out what she truly believes in and where the heart of her faith truly lies. This adventure takes her on more than just a journey to find missing truth. It also takes her on a journey of the heart. Join her and Dylan as they seek after the true Heart of God.

Sujets

• Religious
• National Treasure
• Artifact
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: WestBow Press
• Date de parution: 08 août 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798385002399
• Langue: English

Extrait

HEART OF GOD





ASHLEY BEACH







Copyright © 2023 Ashley Beach.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

WestBow Press
A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.westbowpress.com
844-714-3454

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scriptures are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 979-8-3850-0238-2 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-3850-0239-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023912922

WestBow Press rev. date: 07/25/2023


DEDICATION
To my Dad, Keith, who has been such a huge supporter and promoter of my books from the start. Thank you for your eagerness to share about my books with others and put these God stories into the hands of so many pe ople.


A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
This series was sparked by an idea I got while doing a Bible study on Exodus. God had given specific instructions for them to keep a piece of manna, Aaron’s staff, and the tablets on which God himself etched the ten commandments in the Ark of the Covenant. I started to think about the temple being destroyed and wondered where those things had gone that were meant to be kept as reminders of God’s power throughout the ages. As cool as it would be to find an artifact like the one described in this book, to my knowledge, there is no such artifact or secret treasure room left by the ancient kings of Israel. There are, however, countless real artifacts all over the world that continue to prove the existence of God and prove the stories in the Bible to be true and they continue to find new things every day that point to those times and stories. The museum mentioned is not a real museum either, but is based off of a museum that does in fact have many biblical artif acts.
I wrote this series as a way of showing the proof all around us that points to the existence of God and to show the truth of the stories we read in the Bible, but also as a reminder that regardless of all the artifacts that have been found, the greatest proof of God’s existence is found in our lives. We are living artifacts of God’s love and we are the best proof the world could ever have of his existence and his love. We are always either leading people to God or leading them away, and sometimes, we are the only Jesus people will see.
I hope you enjoy this story and the series to come, and that you see the imprint of God within these p ages.
Ashley B each


Psalm 119:11 - “I have hidden your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.” (NLT)
Matthew 6: 19 -2 1 - “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (ESV)


CONTENTS
Dedica tion
A Note from the Au thor

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32



1
T welve year -o ld Selah poured part of her water bottle over the hot sand before pressing the sand together between her hands to form a wall in the sand house she was building. A deafening explosion sounded from the dig site where her parents had been, causing her sand wall to fall. Worry clenched Selah’s stomach as her eyes watched a plume of black smoke fill the air. She stood and ran towards the explo sion.
She stopped when she reached the entrance to the tunnel the excavation team had dug out to provide access to the ancient room her parents had found. Her parents had always told her to stay out of the work areas since they weren’t always stable, so she had never ventured very far into any of them, but she had to find her momma and d addy.
“Momma. Daddy,” she called out amidst the swirling dust as she stepped cautiously into the tunnel. The tunnel was dark and she couldn’t see very far in front of her with the dust that had been stirred up from the explo sion.
“Mommy!” she called a gain.
The sound of muffled voices further into the tunnel drew her deeper into the underground site. Feeling her way along the wall of the tunnel since she still couldn’t see much through the dusty darkness, she eventually caught sight of an orange glow ahead of her. That’s where her parents must be. Selah pressed on into the cave, determined to find her parents and make sure they were safe.
“Give me the artifact, Daniel,” she heard a gruff voice ground out the w ords.
“No. Such a rare artifact would be destroyed in your hands,” Selah heard the voice of her father r eply.
“Don’t be a fool, Daniel. This whole place is going to go up any minute. Give me the artifact and I’ll let you and your wif e go.”
“N ever.”
Selah stepped into the large columned doorway of the cavernous room that was a picture out of a history book with its large pillars that held up the ancient ceiling and the broken chunks of stone and old -e ra furniture that sat in disheveled pieces around the room. Her mother looked up and caught her eye. Her eyes grew wide.
“Selah! Get out of here. Now!” her mother ye lled.
The unusually strained and forceful tone in her mother’s voice stunned Selah. Her mother had hardly ever yelled at her, even when she was in trouble. She wasn’t sure how to react. It looked like her parents were in trouble, but her mother seemed upset that she had come to help. Selah caught her father’s eye as he looked at her.
“ Selah -b ear . Go back to the camp, sweetie,” he said ge ntly.
“Not without you,” Selah responded, scared of what was happe ning.
Her father held her gaze and reassured her. “We will be right behind you, sunshine . Go.”
Selah shot an unsettled glance between her parents and the man that stood with his back to her.
“Go,” her father gently urged a gain.
Selah looked at her parents one last time, still worried about leaving them. Reluctantly, she slowly turned and ran back through the tunnel towards the entrance. As she reached the entrance, another explosion sounded behind her, flinging her out onto the burning sand.
Selah sat up suddenly in bed and took in a sharp breath. Sweat ran down her face and chest as her breathing came in short, panicked huffs from the terrifying images in her dream. She could feel her heart racing and knew within an instant that the nightmare had triggered a full -f ledged panic attack. She frantically reached for the prescription bottle her doctor had given her to help when her attacks got out of control. In her haste to grab her orange prescription bottle, she knocked over the unopened water bottle she kept on her nightstand for nights like this. She fumbled with the safety lid until she was finally able to pinch it just right and get it twisted off. Feeling a growing agitation at how long it was taking her to get her medicine, she quickly dumped two pills into her hand and lifted a shaky hand to her mouth, threw the pills back, and opened the water bottle to wash them down.
Selah drained the water bottle and sat on the edge of her bed for a few moments, trying to normalize her breathing while the pills took effect. Her breathing finally slowed and was almost back to normal, despite the still racing feeling she felt in her veins from the recurring nightmare. Selah cautiously pushed herself up from the bed and stood holding onto her nightstand for a moment, worried her muscles might give out or cramp up with how tense they had been. When she was certain she could stand without collapsing or her muscles seizing up, she grabbed the terry cloth robe that lay at the end of her bed and slipped her feet into her pale pink slippers before shuffling out to the small kitchen in her apartment. She grabbed the electric tea kettle from its warmer and filled it up to the one cup line before returning it and turning it on. Rummaging through her boxes of tea in the cupboard, she found the one she was looking for–sleep tea with chamomile to help calm her still edgy nerves. She pulled a mug off of the silver mug tree on her counter and put the tea bag in it while she waited for the kettle to boil.
After a few minutes, the kettle whistled letting her know the water was ready. She picked up the kettle and pou