Got Faith? Get in on the hunt...

“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.


Excerpt:

“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 

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 I put a piece of paper under my pillow, and when I could not sleep 

I wrote in the dark.

Henry David Thoreau