COMING SOON...
Melanie's story - The content creator and the billionaire businessman who hires her to boost his online image. He can't stop thinking about her, and she'll have none of him, unless he'll participate in what will become her greatest triumph - being the vessel Holy Spirit uses to lead an agnostic like him to the Lord, and to evolve in her own faith journey.
PROLOGUE
“Well, hey—Trent, buddy? I
thought that was you.”
The man appeared out of nowhere
as Trent was walking out of the restaurant. He stopped right in front of him, blocking
his path, and halting his progress.
He looked so familiar, but in
the moment he couldn’t recall why. A friend from university? A business
associate?
He was about to ask how they
knew each other, when the man slapped a hand to his upper arm, then reached for
his hand. He held it for a moment. Shook it once. But then changed his hold in
an instant and gripped his wrist instead. Bruising. Bone crushing. Burning. He
tugged on it, with sharp, painful force. The unexpected strength behind the action
jerked him forward and almost off balance, and into the most discomfiting
position of being no more than a foot away from what he now recognized as
imminent danger.
He looked straight into black, limitless
beady eyes and felt strange—as the man leaned in, almost
nose to nose with him now, his voice barely above a whisper.
“He despised you, yuh know that?”
“What?” Trent’s question came
out dull and distant to his ears. With none of the sharpness he intended, given
his mounting alarm. Plus, all of a sudden, he was beginning to lose sensation
in his lower extremities. Feeling disconnected and as though he was about to pass
out, he staggered back a step or two.
Had he been drugged in the
restaurant?
Even his anxiety felt odd. It
should have been at a five-alarm-fire level, but instead it was subdued.
Indistinct. Accompanied by a disorienting fog of indecision, instead of his
accustomed adrenalin-sharp focus.
What in the hell—?
The man’s mouth opened, as
though to say something else, but then his eyes grew wide. Blackened. A bleak
darkness crept in—and spread…from the centers, outward, engulfing his bloodshot
eyes. His features contorted in evident fear, and then transformed, into
someone else entirely? His head twisted around as he looked back, over his
shoulder.
Right before he exploded. In a gust
of tiny, dark grey particles.
Caught off guard and jarred out
of his weird trance, Trent yelled out. Held his hands up. Squeezed his eyes
shut, as a blast of the man’s dusty remnants hit his face and body.
And then he heard it.
Loud and jarring, it seemed to
echo somewhere near his left ear.
SNAP!
As the ground beneath him fell
away…
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