Sunday, November 13, 2016

Follow the Faithful - A Blog Hop of Prizes with Bewitching Book Tours

Join me Nov. 14th - Nov. 21st

with Bewitching Book Tours

November 14 Guest Blog
Fang-tastic Books

November 14 Spotlight

November 14 Spotlight
Ogitchida Kwe's Book Blog

November 15 Spotlight
Lisa's Loves(Books of Course)

November 15 Spotlight
Share My Destiny

November 16 Spotlight
The Silver Dagger Scriptorium

November 16 Spotlight
Illuminite Caliginosus

November 17 Spotlight
The Cubicle Escapee

November 17 Spotlight
Books N Pearls

November 18 Spotlight
Sapphyria's Book Reviews

November 18 Guest blog
Books and Tales 

November 21 Interview
The Book Junkie Reads 

November 21 Spotlight
Mello June
You could win a $20 Amazon Gift Card
$10 iTunes Gift Card
and 3 lucky winners will get
an e-copy of the entire 
Faith Savage Demon Huntress Series

Friday, October 14, 2016

Have You Received Your Message? Got Faith?

“For then there will be great distress, 
unequaled from the beginning 
of the world until now–
and never to be equaled again”  
(Matthew 24:21)

The Message is a Matter of Interpretation -- 
Belief is in the Hands of Faith

Faith Savage: Book 8 - Messenger

Series: Messenger ~ Faith Savage, Demon Huntress , Book 8.0
By: K.A. M'Lady | Other books by K.A. M'Lady
Published By: Mojocastle Press
Published: Oct 08, 2016
ISBN # 9781601802

There are those who say that mankind’s demise has long been written. That the wind knew our story long before the fire kindled the passing of time’s stark flame. Some even say that in Heaven’s dark days, God and the devil had a multitude of conversations. In God’s omnipotence, they struck a deal, prearranged the blame.

Others will attest that free will brought about mankind’s damnation. Impurity begot the rule of darkness.
Greed and pride wrought the bloodshed. Wars and famine fueled mankind’s annihilation. Sloth and gluttony procured the plagues. They assert, mankind had transcended, manifested into sin-filled sheep – that they’d become demon vessels – blackened souls corrupt and stained.

But, every culture bears a history. Generations spread the story: Only the chosen will find redemption. For the unrepentant – the message plain.

My name is Faith Savage. I am a child of God and a hunter of demons. I am a sinner and a warrior doing God’s bidding. With each night’s passing, I stand against the darkness and the devil’s minions, searching for my own message, my own light within this plague; praying that even I don’t lose my way.


“And when the third seal is broken,’ Jason continued, preaching to a choir whose interest was now somewhat piqued, “the balancer rides in the night. He is the black horseman – the darkness; the bringer of the ends of time.”

“In for a penny,” I added.

“The end of a pound,” he replied. “I speak of drought, Faith. And you and I both know that drought is everywhere. Its destructive force spreading and its oppressive hands are burrowing a dry, dark stain across the land, hungering for just one believer. But the fields are empty and the livestock barren. This is a world in crisis, Faith. Drought and hunger and famine are everywhere. California, Nevada – barren.”

“Do not delude yourself. The Four Horseman ride, Faith. Death is all around us. Open your eyes and see, Faith Savage. But more importantly, open your heart. The time is at hand. The proof is everywhere; on every media channel, every cyber outlet you can link into. War is on every continent. Famine. Plagues. I ask you, what more proof do you need?”

“Yes, Faith Savage,” came the thick, rumble of my name, uttered as if God had dropped a ball of thunder off a cliff and waited for the shards of lightning to follow its decent into the sea. “What more proof do you need?”

I turned at the sound, dumbstruck once again by the cool, aloof demeanor of this lethal giant in eighties
rocker casual. My heart stuttered while I took in the hands stuffed in the front pockets of jeans so faded out there were holes worn in them. Glancing down, I noted the shoes; white leather Capezios. Today’s T-shirt of choice was once again black, a white stallion blazing across a fiery roadway. Its rider was armored, the cross of God on his breast plate, a demon impaled upon a pike, pike raised to the heavens. The script across the bottom of it read, I’ll Take You to Hell. Gabriel, in all his ironies, stood before me and I was struck with the urge to laugh, to cower and to tremble, simultaneously.

His scent engulfed me in the warm, rich rush of cinnamon, wind, earth and haloed man. The sight of all that caged power in six feet six inches of man-angel standing before me with the breeze that ruffled his auburn hair, twisted my gut with dread. Worry, fear and then uncertainty followed quickly as the frenzied course of my thoughts slammed into me all at same time. I blinked and then blinked again. I took a shaky breath and considered the moment. Considered his question. What more proof did I need? The answer? Plenty. >>

K.A. M'Lady 

Check Out My Best Selling Titles at ARe

 I put a piece of paper under my pillow, and when I could not sleep 
I wrote in the dark.


Saturday, June 25, 2016

Sometimes, It's a Matter of Faith...

Messenger is coming...

Do You Have Faith Savage?

The Message is a matter of Interpretation ~
Belief is in the hands of Faith
Faith Savage, Demon Huntress
Get the Series Today! Mojocastle Press

And I — my head oppressed by horror — said:
"Master, what is it that I hear? Who are
those people so defeated by their pain?"
      And he to me: "This miserable way
is taken by the sorry souls of those
who lived without disgrace and without praise.
      They now commingle with the coward angels,
the company of those who were not rebels
nor faithful to their God, but stood apart.
      The heavens, that their beauty not be lessened,
have cast them out, nor will deep Hell receive them —
even the wicked cannot glory in them.

Dante AlighieriInferno (The Divine Comedy #1)

Thy soul is by vile fear assailed, which oft so overcasts a man, that he recoils from noblest resolution, like a beast at some false semblance in the twilight gloom.

Dante AlighieriInferno (The Divine Comedy #1)

The bow of God's wrath is bent, and the arrow made ready on the string, and justice bends the arrow at your heart, and strains the bow, and it is nothing but the mere pleasure of God, and that of an angry God, without any promise or obligation at all, that keeps the arrow one moment from being made drunk with your blood.

Jonathan EdwardsSinners in the Hands of an Angry God


Devils...stands waiting for them, like greedy hungry lions that see their prey, and expect to have it...
Jonathan EdwardsSinners in the Hands of an Angry God

K.A. M'Lady 

Check Out My Best Selling Titles at ARe

 I put a piece of paper under my pillow, and when I could not sleep 
I wrote in the dark.

Monday, January 25, 2016

The Inspiration of Things to Come

As a writer, we are often told to write.  Write what we like, what we know.  Write about the things that matter.  Things that make us feel something.  The inspirations and implications are endless.  The world begins to move in a different sort of perspective.  Everything is in infinite detail -- as far as we wish the details to be.  And they arrive from the most peculiar of places:  Aunt Desi's old green Honda, the skateboarder on the wrong side of fifth street jumping curbs.  Even yesterday's mail holds an odd surprise or two of inspiration.

Oh, and when we find it...the worlds we make.  Magical places.  Sometimes, even dark and supernatural places.  Where might a phrase, a verse, or a poem take you?

Supernatural Forces – Lawrence Raab

“The absence of God,” wrote George Bataille,
“is greater, and more divine, than God.”
Which is an idea God might  have come up with
If he’d been French and worried
about how to make it through
the twentieth century.  Do you want this?
If I take it away, will you want it more?

Or will you forget?  That’s the problem
with absence, it leaves itself open
to so much.  Supernatural forces,
for example.  Glowing lights,
out of which the aliens appear
like anorexic children..  Let us help you,
they say, although of course they never speak.

Once they just wanted to take over the planet.
Now they feel sorry for us,
they way God must have felt when he chose
to return into his silence.
No more threats.  No more angels, either.
Only these lost children, come back
to startle us, and vanish.