Why I Write About Heaven, Hell, and Redemption | Brandy Marks Author

Once an RN, Always a Seeker
Once upon a time, I was an RN, then a licensed mental-health and biblical counselor. Reading was part of my daily rhythm—three or more books a week. I still love to read, though I began to notice how many stories felt the same. Somewhere along the way, I started craving something more—something daring, layered with truth and wonder.
A Dangerous “What If…”
When I retired, I began writing nonfiction. But eventually, a single question changed everything:
What if Lucifer could be redeemed?
My Christian friends were horrified. But writers know that great stories often begin with those two words: What if…? So I followed the question.
Later, at a Christian writers’ conference in Phoenix, I discovered just how dangerous that question could be. My books were removed from the shelves and labeled “unacceptable.” Apparently, what I’d written wasn’t “Christian”—at least not by their definition.
Author Story: Why I Write the Stories I Do
I grew up in a divided home—half faith, half faithless. Sundays meant church, confession, and the illusion that sins were washed away. But the moment the doors closed behind us, the trauma returned. Abuse wrapped in hymns is still abuse. For years, I learned to smile through the pain, no. I was angry but I had to pretend - well I chose nothingness because holiness could not erase what happened behind closed doors.
By my teens, upbringing took over: rebellion, survival, and a world that made no room for innocence. People often ask why I write fallen angels, rebels, and complicated redemption arcs. The answer is simple:
I was one. And to some degree, I still am...
I refused to bow to a God who seemed to remain silent through my suffering. And while I wasn’t cast out of heaven, I was cast out of my home. So I went into the world alone, choosing my alone path, stumbling from heartbreak to heartbreak, searching for love with a wounded heart and using all the wrong methods to find it. 
Then I met my own “Lucifer.”
Not the celestial one, but a man who could have played him convincingly—a mix of charm, danger, and destruction. He was broken, and so was I. Those who read my books often sense a strange tenderness toward the rebellious, toward the dark and the misunderstood. And yes, anger too. All that comes from experience. Because the truth is, my Lucifer changed—some. Enough to make me hope. Not enough to truly make a real difference.
But in flashes, I saw something in him—regret, longing, even a kind of belief. And I saw something in myself: the part of me still reaching for redemption, even when I didn’t know I believed in it.
Our story was never a happy ending, not even an almost, but it held moments of light. And then he left this world, and only God knows where he went: heaven above or hell below. It’s there if you look.
This is the soil my stories grow from.
I write about angels because I know what it feels like to long for grace.
I write about demons because I’ve known the shadows—both in others and in myself.
I write about redemption because I have chased it, resisted it, doubted it, and yearned for it.
And I write love stories because, through everything, I continue to believe love is powerful enough to remake even the darkest heart. Perhaps even mine.
My novels aren’t crafted from theology.
They’re crafted from experience—from a life marked by trauma, rebellion, longing, survival, and the stubborn hope that maybe, just maybe, brokenness isn’t the end of the story.
I write because I have lived the questions my characters ask:
What if grace is real? What if healing is possible? What if love transforms even the fallen?
These questions shaped my life. Now they shape my books.
This is who I am. This is why I write. What I believe
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