alternate history, angels, demons, Doomsday, fallen angels, fantasy, Linda Nightingale, Queen Tutt's World of Escapism, Sunday Stories, The Great Flood, The Grigori
In Genesis, “The sons of God saw that the daughters of men were fair; and they took wives for themselves from those who were pleasing to them.”
Azazel was a leader of the Grigori, the angels sent to Earth to teach Mankind after the oust from Eden, how to survive in a less hospitable environment. Nine-tenths of the Grigori fell from Grace, but was it love or lust?
This novella presents the Grigori’s tale in first person from Azazel’s point of view–the temptations, his struggles and the final realization that Heaven doesn’t speak to him anymore.
Autumn sped into a bitter winter, and out of a crusted December dawn, Lamorak came with the woman Ruth in tow. When I opened the door, he thrust her into the candlelight. She stumbled and fell at my feet.
“Take it.” Disgust rasped his throat. He shoved a bundle of rags at me. “It’s yours.”
Memory snapped me back to that glade of tall grass, and the first half-breed infant born. The sense of doom that had suffocated me then smothered me now.
Lamorak grabbed my arm. “What you sow, thus shall you reap.”
Nausea bubbled in my stomach. I folded back the blanket. The babe gazed at me with my own eyes, his hair pale and soft. Angel fragrance, very similar to mine. A tiny finger brushed my lips. My heart hitched in my chest. I bent and kissed my son’s milk-scented cheek.
Ruth’s eyes were dark pools of sorrow, her smile trembling. “He’s beautiful.”
“He’s an Abomination.” Lamorak spat on the floor.
I flashed upright, wings flared, teeth bared. “Man, you’ve forgotten your place.”
He cowered back. “Not as much as you forgot yours.”
I spread my fingers over his face. “Speak again and strangle on your words.”
Lamorack coughed, clutching his throat.
“Azazel.” Magdalene, the only mortal given the celestial pronunciation of my name and thus dominion over my Spirit, stepped between us. “What would you do? Slay poor Lamorak for your sin?” Tears softened the awful accusation in her eyes. “Give me the child.”
“Magdalene,” I whispered.
“Go Lamorack. Come Ruth.” She scooped the child from my arms. “Help me with the morning meal.”
At the door, Lamorak raised a fist. A nasty smile bared yellowed teeth. “She’ll soon cuckold you, Shining One.”
Marooned with two women—one of whom I loved, the other the mother of my child, I stared at the closed door.
What reviewers are saying:
Intriguing Insight! Great Read!
First let me say that this is a great read, the first story about the fall of the angels I have read that is more realistic on how the angels took to human women. The author connects you with the characters immediately by giving you the insight of the angel’s thoughts and their duties for being on earth along with the many temptations forced on them from the women. …Ronda Tutt, Queen Tutt’s World of Escapism
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