For me, Ahiram goes way back. Back to when to when Michael and I were newly married, back to before the story was on paper. Back to the kitchen, where we stood washing dishes and I would hear the story evolve, undergo transformations with every telling, and discover new events every time I would hear the tale again. I quickly became attached to Ahiram and his grand adventure, and so I was thrilled when the writing began. I wanted our children to meet this character I had come to know so well.
However, the first time I heard the story read to me, I was disappointed. The story had changed again: what I had heard was merely the outline of the story, its skeleton. I wanted to get to the fantastical end: now, I would have to wait! What started as a trilogy became five books, then eight, and eventually, it would take ten books to finally hear the conclusion of this extraordinary feat. But in the meantime, I discovered new favorites characters and the story had unexpected twists, making the resolution that much more sweet.
By then, the kids had grown and were very fond of Ahiram. They loved the friendship he had with Jedark and Banimeleck. They rooted for him when he fought in battles or was mingled in some grand exploit, and they always begged for one more page during story time. It was endearing to see our brood hanging on their father's every word; nevertheless, the evenings always ended in tears thanks to the cliff hangers at the end of the chapters that were unbearable to the young readership.