Why I’m Giving the Books Away
I didn’t plan to give these books away. When I started writing The Unborn Child Protection Act series, I expected pushback. The stories are direct. They ask uncomfortable questions. But I believed that urgency would carry them. I thought that when reality caught up to fiction, readers would lean in.
Instead, many pulled back.
Not because the books didn’t matter, but because they mattered too much. The line between imagined futures and current headlines began to blur, and with it came fatigue. Readers weren’t disengaging because they didn’t care. They were already overwhelmed. When fiction stops offering distance from reality, it stops offering relief.
That silence was hard to ignore. So I made a decision.
This month, I’m offering the first chapter of each book in the series, one each Friday. No signup, no funnel. Just an open door for readers who need time, context, and space before they commit to more.
At the same time, I’m giving away full books through contests, signed editions, and audiobook bundles. These giveaways aren’t about sales or reach. They’re about making sure the stories remain accessible when platforms and algorithms fall short.
The free chapters are about invitation. The giveaways are about preservation. One welcomes the reader. The other protects the story.
None of this was part of a release plan. It’s a response to the moment we’re in. These books are not banned. But stories like these often vanish without headlines. They get labeled as too political or too real. They get overlooked, not because they’re irrelevant, but because they’re uncomfortably close.
That is how suppression often works. Not through force, but through quiet disappearance.
I don’t intend to let that happen.
If the world continues moving toward the one I wrote, then giving these books away is not a sacrifice. It’s a responsibility. I would rather these stories be read freely than priced beyond reach. I would rather be clear than palatable. I would rather be found than forgotten.
So I’m putting the story where it belongs—in the hands of readers who are still paying attention.
Because if fiction is the last place we’re allowed to tell the truth, then I’ll give it away for as long as I can.
