When I began writing Between Sundays, I knew I wanted it to be a story grounded in faith. That was always the intention. At its core, it’s a story about redemption, forgiveness, and the quiet, difficult work of change. But it’s also a story about people. And people aren’t always clean, polished, or careful with their words. Some readers may notice language in the book that feels unexpected—especially in a story with strong Christian themes. That wasn’t an oversight. It was a choice. If the story is going to be honest, then the characters have to be honest too. And the truth is, many people—especially those carrying pain, anger, or confusion—don’t always speak in ways that are comfortable or familiar to us. They speak the way they’ve learned to, the way their world has shaped them. To remove that completely would have made the story feel safer. But it also would have made it less real. Faith doesn’t exist only in clean spaces. It shows up in the middle of broken ones—in conversations that aren’t perfect, in lives that aren’t fully put together yet. If this story is about transformation, then it has to begin in a place that feels true. And sometimes, truth is uncomfortable. That discomfort isn’t there for shock value. It’s there because the journey matters. Because where a person starts makes what comes next more meaningful. I understand that not everyone will be comfortable with that choice. And that’s okay. But for me, telling the story honestly mattered more than telling it cautiously. — LUIS