The Ascension by Michael G. Cornelius PDF
By Michael G. Cornelius
THE ASCENSION starts off. A Catholic bishop. A Quaker prayer chief. A Methodist minister. A Mormon ward chief. a complete congregation of 7th Day Adventists. What have they got in universal? all of them minister to people's religious wishes. And someone-or something-is ripping them to shreds for it. A BLOODY caution. Police detective Caldwell "Cal" Evans, nonetheless 3 weeks shy of finishing rehab, is termed in at the case. His in basic terms clue is a chilling message written in blood on the first homicide scene: "Leave the Christ on my own. He doesn't belong to you." THE SERPENT SHALL REIGN. With our bodies piling up, Cal and his accomplice, Velvet Rabinowitz, chase leads concerning snake-handling cults, the useless Sea Scrolls, and an old rite left unfinished for 2 thousand years. With assistance from a graduate scholar and an enigmatic Roman Catholic priest, the 2 detectives do greater than struggle for his or her lives. .THEY struggle FOR US ALL.
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Extra info for The Ascension
His mind shouted. You must help him. It was a man. I don’t know that! I don’t know anything at all. I will be believed. It was dark. Very dark. They have to believe me! It was an accident. I must be believed! It was an accident! None of that will matter. Okeke’s hand hovered over his shift. Stay or go? He had to make a decision. But he couldn’t decide. His hand touched the shift. Without thinking, he moved to take it out of park. In the corner of his eye, in his rearview mirror, Okeke saw something.
Okeke’s mind snapped back to driving as a yellow sign entered his limited field of vision. DETOUR. An arrow pointed to the left, to a small, unpaved back road. Muttering softly to himself, Okeke turned the car left. He hoped this road would lead to the interstate. There is so much work to do, he thought. So much damage has been done. So much destruction. But he was energetic and eternally hopeful. The wounds must be healed. The church could be made whole again. The people never lost faith in Christ; it was only Christ’s keepers here on earth who had failed them.
He didn’t see the kids very often, so the Bishop allowed himself to be persuaded into staying on, first for dinner, then for coffee, then to read the kids a bedtime story. Now, still stuffed to the gills with Loretta’s infamous baby back ribs and collard greens, and flushed with the warmth of an excellent Chianti, the Bishop turned over his ignition and started up the car. It was almost midnight; he was supposed to have been back to the diocese no later than nine. The Bishop sighed in contentment as he gently steered the car out of Loretta’s neatly appointed driveway.
The Ascension by Michael G. Cornelius