Noah State is repulsed by who he’s become. As a Liquidator, his assignment is to kill anyone who speaks against the government. However, whomever, whenever. The problem: Noah believes in genuine justice but despises the fear-mongering he’s forced to be a part of. All he wants—all he’s ever wanted—is to live a quiet, peaceful life.
But he doesn’t deserve that anymore. Not after killing so many innocents.
Charity Tinnin’s debut release Haunted got under my skin in a way few books have. Maybe that’s because I could identify to some degree with every. single. character. (Buy it here. Seriously.)
- Noah, haunted by his past, trying to maintain his integrity and live by his convictions in a world where convictions flat out aren’t allowed.
- Maddison, desperate for a future, struggling daily with the pain of her past and determined to live like it matters. Because people matter.
- Daniel, fierce and powerful, valuing his own life above others, protecting his family, and ignoring the rest of the world.
Sure. Daniel and Maddison couldn’t be more different, but I have both those kinds of days. Don’t you?
Maybe the book affected me so deeply, because I find it progressively difficult to live without compromising my convictions in America—which has nothing on the level of persecution Patrisians are facing.
Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been haunted by my own regrets. I understand the need for redemption.
Whatever the reason, Haunted reminded me of these things:
Our past—our own sins, crimes against us or those we love, difficult circumstances in general—can affect us in three ways. We can let the past consume us, making us so filled with anger that our every relationship suffers. Our past can weigh on us, convincing us we don’t deserve good things, we’ll never measure up, and we’re without hope. Or our past can motivate us to be different—to seek redemption.
And this. There are things worth fighting for, but learning to choose our battles is crucial. We can’t be on the front lines of every issue. And when we engage, we need to be careful that as we make our points, we’re not causing a heap of collateral damage. How we fight matters. We can resist—we can hold convictions contrary to the majority—with grace. We shouldn’t act like or assume that those who believe differently are our enemies.
Every moment counts.
Every person counts.
How has your past affected you? What will you do with that? Here’s what I do.
Living a counter-culture life can be an adventure. We can bring people with us if we’re wise about how we live in front of them and how we invite them. What are you doing to be different?