The Edge

The Edge

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Book Spotlight - THE GREAT THIRST BOXED SET - Mary C. Findley



“Come on. Come on. Come on!” Talia chanted, until the messaging application appeared. The characters she typed were not English.

Arrived stateside. Keep your word.

The response came after a long lag.

How many lies told to pull that off?

Talia ignored the taunt and repeated her message.

Location of artifacts?

Proof of life first.

You withheld dive info.

Proof of life.

A video link appeared after some delay, time-stamped to within moments of the current time in western Syria. Talia forced herself not to react to the sight of her aunt and uncle in a small room half-filled with sand, lit only by slits near the roof, and no apparent water or food. Remmy paced like an angry bear, but very slowly and clumsily, slipping on the sand. Sophia sat huddled in a corner. The video clipped off abruptly. Talia typed in co-ordinates of the dive site off Ugarit.

What recovered? the question blinked into view.

Nothing. 5 witnesses can confirm. You searched our stuff. I paid. We left. Let them GO.

A longer pause ensued than the last one. Another video popped up – Remmy and Sophia being pushed out of a desert-camoed hummer onto a dirt road surrounded by a windy, desert landscape. The vehicle drove away and both of them collapsed.

You can’t just leave them! Talia pounded the keyboard. Where are they? How can I send help?

You only said let them go. Be careful what you wish for.

Talia typed threats, demands, pleas. No response. Finally something clicked in her brain. She subjected the video to a rigorous examination, hammered out searches, and finally came up with co-ordinates. She took out a satellite headset.

“Cherub-rider, I need a big favor,” she said into the mic when she had finally made the connection.

“Copy that, Evangel. Anywhere you say; anything you want.”

Talia repeated the co-ordinates. After a pause, the male voice that had answered swore. “Syria?”

“You know what you owe me,” Talia said. “Pick up two packages, critical. Whatever’s needed. You know I’m good for it.”

“Means going in and out hot. May need to pay some fines for me.”

“Send me a bill. Hot is exactly what I need. Sending you video feed.”

“Holy crap,” the voice said a few moments after Talia had sent the feed of Remmy and Sophia in the desert. “Should I be blowing something up afterwards? No charge for that. God knows where I’d be if it wasn’t for those two–”

“Not yet, but maybe later.” Talia finally allowed herself to smile. “Thank you, Cherub-rider.”

“No, thank you, Evangel. The honor is to serve. Cherub-rider going in double hot.”

 
 

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Book Spotlight - ALL THE ANGELS STOOD - Laura J. Marshall




Rush saw that look in Staci when he picked her up, still hopeless. She looked gorgeous, as only she could look. Her long black hair accentuated her fair skin and dark eyes. He could tell she was nervous and…weary. It was the vibe he had gotten, like she was beyond caring. He had tried to joke with her in the car on the way over, but he swore it fell flat. This wasn’t just about the evil surrounding her anymore; this was about Staci...the person. He was falling for her. On one hand, he wanted to protect his heart. On the other, he wanted to wade full on in and make her care as much as he did…about herself…and about him.

“Adam’s in the band,” Rush said, leading the way into the sanctuary.

“Band?” She asked with her eyes wide. She really seemed to have no idea what all this was about.

“Yeah, we do praise and worship before the lesson, just a few songs.”

He could feel Staci trying to adjust to this information as they moved down the aisle flanked on both sides by fabric-covered chairs. He took her hand and picked out two seats to the right of the stage. Jenny and Angelica had disappeared and Adam had left a few minutes earlier to warm up on the drums. Everyone filed in and low murmuring could be heard. The instruments tuned on the stage.

A screen descended behind them and the words of the song came up. Mike was in the front at the mic and he led them in a prayer.

“Dear Lord, we come to you now as a community of believers to lift up Your name…”

The words blurred as Rush’s thoughts interrupted.

Sometimes he just knew if something wasn’t right with a person. It could be a feeling or a physical manifestation. Rush had this. He didn’t always see the demons. Sometimes he just felt them there over a person or place. Some clung, some hovered, some possessed. Rush didn’t feel adequate or up to the challenge. He continually fed his faith the Word of God. He tried to remind himself the battle was the Lord’s and all he could do was pray and intercede.

In the face of fear and doubt, he looked to Jesus. He couldn’t save anyone or make someone care. How do you help someone move from take my life to Lord, preserve my life?

And how did his heart get tangled up. “The Fixer” couldn’t fix this. Only God could and right now, Rush needed Him to save them both. Staci from the clutches of the enemy and Rush from the fear of caring.

Staci had shown him how to be vulnerable and truly care. Want to care. He thought he was immune. And now he was falling for her. She was so encumbered, yet still fighting or wanting to fight. He had to help her but what more could he do? His judgment was askew and as the music began to flow over the crowd, he prayed even harder for wisdom.