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Welcome to the Writings Of Fantasy ~ Romance Author
K.A. M’Lady
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Find Your Realm Of Possibilities |
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K.A. M’Lady Copyright 2006 - 2012 All Rights Reserved |
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Got Faith?
Get in on the hunt.
Book 5 - The Ash Collector - Available 10-7-11 Book 6 - Wicked’s Kiss - Available 10-20-11 Book 7 - Sinner - Available 11-4-11
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The Ash Collector - Book 5 ~ A Faith Savage Demon Huntress Novel
By
K.A. M’Lady
With Faith, Every Demon Has Its Day
In the beginning God created man in his image; from dust and ash, hope was cast. Yet, as far as time remembers, in the scrolls of history’s past, it was written that woman brought temptation to the garden. Woman introduced death unto man. But have you forgotten about the trickster? Was mortal destruction not his master plan? There are those who say death is a celebration. One soul’s defiant, heavy passing; another’s gentle ease into the Light. Commemorations for the departed. Forgiveness of old transgressions. A final rest for pity, the end to immortal strife. But, is death just the beginning? And who comes to collect you when you pass? What happens to the worthy if the Light turns against them? Do they stand their ground – Stay and fight? What about those who seek no forgiveness? Do the deceiver’s minions scurry from the darkness? Come and collect their next eternal victim? Is everlasting damnation the deceased’s future plight? My name is Faith Savage. I know what it is to walk the dark shadows at the edge of destruction. To feel the presence of The Collector in the night. I know what it is to bleed the dust of life’s possibilities, to sift through the ash of mankind’s hopes and dreams. To seek the evil that makes souls rot. It is here in this impossible darkness that I hunt demons, searching for my own answers and retributions, in the battle for the Light.
Excerpt:
“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 arch-angel made flesh, standing in my ransacked bathroom. |
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Wicked’s Kiss - Book 6 - A Faith Savage Demon Huntress Novel
By
K.A. M’Lady
Some hungers burn hotter than hell.
There are those who say that we are all God’s children. That the Blood of Christ released us from sins. But, there are others that hold to the original sins. Temptations purchased for a copper, a penny, a fine golden coin. Even the priests bought and sold lies with the silver kisses of thieves; might cost you a stoning – ten pence for a whore. Some have written that from a garden God created the first cast-off demon; a viper feigned in the guise of a woman. Her kisses, once given, led to eternal damnation. And, from one sacred garden to our Christ’s last temptation, a kiss by the wicked brought about mankind’s salvation. Bought and paid for by greed, perhaps even envy – all impugnable transgressions. But, when is a kiss just a kiss in the game of redemption? What price does a man pay for the ultimate betrayal? Is the cost greater than the price of his soul? My name is Faith Savage. When dealing with matters of faith, God, religion and demons, I’ve found there are no easy answers. I’ve stumbled my way through Hell’s treacherous dark byways seeking God and the answers to these and many other questions. I’ve learned that nothing is as it seems when dealing with demons and Angels. And sometimes, love and faith creates just another way to burn.
Excerpt: The first kiss was for the dying. The unsuspecting prey, coiled lovingly in his arms. Soft skin pressed gently to his lips. Memories, wants and desires a warm, celestial rush mixed with the salty tang of copper bursting through his senses. Each one filled with light. Heated like the memory of sunshine kissing the flesh. He could almost taste it. Smell it on her flesh. Oh, the sweet, sensual heartache. The memory danced on his tongue and he swallowed it down. Took it from her. Watched it burn bitterly from her eyes while hope faded. While the last vestige of her light withdrew. She clung to him, helplessly now. Watched him partake of her glory while he selfishly watched the light and life fade from her eyes. Both of them knew that this kiss was for her and her alone. Her one true kiss – the kiss for the soon departed. The second kiss brought his own memories. Memories and despair. Every drop he swallowed burned his throat. His veins on fire. His life giving nectar brought no hope. He was filled with it and yet he was unfulfilled. Irony, such a bitter pill to swallow, but he would choke it down until his own destructive end. He closed his eyes. Held the girl closer, yet he no longer felt her warmth. The light had passed between his greedy lips. It left him thirsty. Always so thirsty. But even he knew that redemption was not something he could consume. So he drank instead the memories. Swallowed hard the pain. And still the memories came. |
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Sinner ~ Book 7 - A Faith Savage Demon Huntress Novel
By
K.A. M’Lady
Redemption Has A Price – Are You Willing To Pay?
It was written that each soul would have a Guardian. A Warrior of Light to watch over it. Protect it. Be its shield against the darkness, its sword against the fallen. But the days grew dark. Man’s souls darker still. Many turned away from the Light of God, cast aside His word and His love. And the Guardians rebelled. Some say that this was his second transgression. What led to his ultimate betrayal. Others say that he too was but pawn in God’s glorious manipulation. A means to an end of man’s dark days. One thing is certain, only God knows the truth of his story. Only He knows soul’s true worth and its fate. My name is Faith Savage. In this game of good and evil I’ve met the Guardian that God sent me. His story I am just beginning to learn. His history, I am told, has marked him as damned. But, everyone knows Christ died for the sinners. The only question that remains is, could we forgive him if we controlled his fate?
Excerpt: “I have to admit,” Sergeant Wengt stated, his voice sounding like smooth whiskey in a smoky bar, “I thought he was joking. I mean, when he said to call on faith, I thought he meant to pray or something. I even laughed at him. Then I went in that house.” His voice trailed at the end and I could tell that Sergeant Wengt wasn’t a man that would scare too easily. He sounded like a man who’d been on the job a lot of years and seen some of the real ugly things that life had to dole out. This however, had definitely shaken him. “I need you here, Faith Savage,” he had told me, his voice filled with urgency, pleading. “Whatever it is that’s in there ain’t letting that girl go.” So, in the dead of the night I came to a brick cape-cod that rested silently in a normal looking neighborhood with its semi-groomed yard and its simple façade. Squad cars filled the block; a stream of blue and red flashing lights lit the night like Christmas. Everywhere I looked cops had that wide-eyed, pasty look of shocked horror. Some stood behind their cars, guns drawn, aimed at the house. Others mumbled prayers in hushed whispers, their hands gripped so tightly on their guns I was kind of worried someone might get jumpy and accidently pull a trigger. At the last minute, before I came here tonight, I decided to make one call. I knew that whatever was in this house was going to need more faith than I currently seemed to be packing. So, I called St. Michaels. Hoping, praying that someone would be there to answer. Now, in the dark, murky stillness of this eerily calm home I stood on the stairs with the only cop I could find that agreed to come inside with me. Officer Story was in his mid-fifties, a dusting of grey edged his sideburns and the corners of his full mustache. He wore the lines of twenty-two years of service on the force well. But most importantly, he was a devout Catholic. His faith had served him well all his years in uniform. Here’s hoping it didn’t let him down tonight. Sure, he was afraid. Every good Christian should be. But the Light of God filled his heart and no one was taking a child against its will on his watch. “This house is filled with evil.” Story’s big arm swung around in front of me as he pushed me back towards the wall, gun now pointed at the front landing. His face was calm, arm steady. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. “Not very smart to sneak up on a cop like that,” he told the man who stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Not very smart to enter a house of evil armed only with a gun,” replied the short, dark man dressed in black jeans, a black blazer and the frock of a priest. His oil dark hair was slicked back and appeared to be collected in a pony tail. His accent was pure Spanish-American. “Father Santori?” “Faith Savage?” “If we’re done with the introductions can we get on with this?” Story questioned, his voice finally wavering. A loud thud resonated through the house, ran up my spine and settled between my shoulder blades. Dust drifted from the ceilings rafters. Story jumped. Father Santori merely sighed. All I could muster was a blink. With what I’d been through recently some serious shit was going to have to occur before it got a rise out of me and doors slamming wasn’t it. A screeching noise like nails on a chalk board sliced the air and set all of our already frazzled nerves on fire. Three loud bangs followed by the distinct whimper of a child crying drifted through the dusty haze. Then there was the flutter. A hard whap, whap, whap. It took a moment for me to figure out what the sound was. “Wings,” I stated staring at the ceiling above us. “It sounds like the flutter of wings.” Story moved his gun, slowly, now pointing it towards the ceiling. His eyes scanned everything at once before coming to rest on the ceiling above. “Do demons fly?” he asked. He apparently didn’t know. Most Catholics are taught that the devil and his minions don’t even exist. It’s not something the church likes to openly recognize. Strange, if you ask me. Because even God believes the devil exists. “They can do a lot of things,” I told him flatly. “And most of it’s a lie.” |
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All Proceeds of Book 7 ~ Sinner To benefit Big Brothers Big Sisters Child Abuse is a Crime Report it - Don’t Ignore it! Make a difference in a child’s life today. |