Book 5: The Ash Collector
Excerpt: Chapter One
“As smoke is driven away, so are the minions of hell driven away; as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish before God. See the cross of the Lord; be gone, you hostile powers!
The stem of David, the lion of Juda's tribe has conquered. May your mercy, Lord, remain with us always. For we put our whole trust in you. In Jesus’ name,” I sighed. “Amen.”
“Mighty big prayer for a sinner.”
I turned to the sound of the wind rushing on jagged cliffs; a rumble of winter thunder in the midst of an encroaching ice storm. It was the resonance of voice turned to wood, once thought hollow, and then roughed into a timbre that settles against the bones.
His voice.
It startled me. Filled me with wonder and dread unimaginable. It was a sound I never thought to hear his side of Heaven.
It was the rough-hewn song of Michael, the archangel made flesh, standing in my ransacked bathroom.
"Close your mouth, Faith. I already know you’ve eaten nothing today but the lies and hate of the darkness.”
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