BILLY SCOTT'S NEW
"ANGELIC RAGE" IS
CURRENTLY AVAILABLE WHILE IN STOCK
All sales are final for any E-books order and are non-refundable. Softbound paperback and hard-bound units will be available for refunding if not torn,destroyed,or unacceptable for resale or purchases. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An Angel, named Septuagint is sent to earth but only by the prayer
requests of a child. It is by these heavenly communications that release
this guardian being into DIVINE ACTION.
The story takes on a new perspective as it is seen and told and thru the Angels eyes.
Septuagint is no stranger to the blue planet. He was once assigned in the Garden Of Glory called EDEN, on his first mission to guard and protect the 'WONDROUS TREE OF
LIFE' after Adam and Eve disobeyed God by partaking of the tree of
the 'knowledge of good and evil'.
In this assignment, a detective police officer's fate lies in the balance of life or death needing more than just his own six sense and sidearm weaponry. However, centuries later down the tunnel of time, Septuagint's celestial brother of the ages named Zolan, took the forbidden path following Lucifer becoming an opposing counterpart to the human race and their destiny, Zolen had become the warring angels' arched foe.
In this assignment, a detective police officer's fate lies in the balance of life or death needing more than just his own six sense and sidearm weaponry. However, centuries later down the tunnel of time, Septuagint's celestial brother of the ages named Zolan, took the forbidden path following Lucifer becoming an opposing counterpart to the human race and their destiny, Zolen had become the warring angels' arched foe.
Septuagint's path is to record
historical events from the blue planet known as earth. A detective Thomas Allen is a sergeant with the Washington Police Department and has become the targeted assignment of the
celestial being's mission. Thomas is obsessed with the gruesome case that leads
him into the world of the political arena, full of corruption, deceit,
murder and mayhem, Detective Thomas is torn between the conflicts
of his career and developing new romance coupled with attempted assassination on his life.
The case unfolds like an opening budding flower . . . Septuagint's presence is
there to help pollinate that course of action.
If you like to laugh, cry, and hold your breath due to the suspense of an awesome read, then get ready, you're about to ride an Intellectual Roller-Coaster . . . Angelic Rage!
FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****
FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****
Zolan, the once great guardian of the Trees of Eden. He and I were the two angels assigned to make sure Adam never ate of the Tree of Life, although Adam had eaten of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Like myself, I knew Zolan never relinquished his sword. He retained not his once beautiful appearance, but in his present state, was disfigured. His mighty stature is all I can remember. He stood as tall as I, nine-feet according to man’s measurement, but the curse had definitely changed him.
The once elegant wings that glistened like the purest snow were transfigured too hideous, dark and bent, outstretching like a bat. His face had morphed and become contorted, ugly. His legs were like that of a goat covered with wiry hair. His garment of purity taken from him. Yes, he was different in appearance, but still he had retained all his power and strength. I had seen him in battle in ancient eons past, and he is a formidable foe. Yet here he was charging directly toward me. Yes! Even right at me. But wait . . .what happened? he just passed me by as if he? . . . No, it can’t be. He did not even see me, why?
If you like to laugh, cry, and hold your breath due to the suspense of an awesome read, then get ready, you're about to ride an Intellectual Roller-Coaster . . . Angelic Rage!
FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****
FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****
From the dark corner of the
alley, a flash of light, orange, red, and amber glow,
did burst in the night. And the blue hues ignited and burned upward and then
slowly down the matchstick, when the gentleman in the long, grey overcoat lit
his cigarette. His face becoming visible only in time intervals, as the flashes
of neon above the diner glowed. He paced back and forth, lurking in the
shadows, moving quickly, to keep his feet and body warm, but never taking his
eyes off his prey. Across the city street, the last couple was exiting the
diner. He refused to let his plundering eyes wander away, but did only for a
brief instant. Only then to ensure that no one else was
around. He seemed to become anxious when the couple exited. The air was
cold and crisp when the steam and smoke were exhaled from his body. He made puff rings in the dark.
Only one man remained inside. The
view was clear from where the man in the grey coat stood. Tossing his
half-smoked cigarette onto the grey, dismal snow, he stepped on it, extinguishing
the flame. Whispering he said, “now, I got you.” He
stepped out of the shadows and into the dimmed lighted area of the sidewalk. He
moved closer to the diner, walking between two parked cars, placing his right
hand into his coat to pull out a concealed item.
“Eeeeeecck!”
T'was the sound screeching over my shoulder. There it was, the reason I was here.
I turned, looking backward into the alleyway. Into the blackness of the pitch, my
eyes, more keen than any human, watched the shadow of the night rent itself
into a hole from hell. Out of that dark hole stepped Zolan.Zolan, the once great guardian of the Trees of Eden. He and I were the two angels assigned to make sure Adam never ate of the Tree of Life, although Adam had eaten of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Like myself, I knew Zolan never relinquished his sword. He retained not his once beautiful appearance, but in his present state, was disfigured. His mighty stature is all I can remember. He stood as tall as I, nine-feet according to man’s measurement, but the curse had definitely changed him.
The once elegant wings that glistened like the purest snow were transfigured too hideous, dark and bent, outstretching like a bat. His face had morphed and become contorted, ugly. His legs were like that of a goat covered with wiry hair. His garment of purity taken from him. Yes, he was different in appearance, but still he had retained all his power and strength. I had seen him in battle in ancient eons past, and he is a formidable foe. Yet here he was charging directly toward me. Yes! Even right at me. But wait . . .what happened? he just passed me by as if he? . . . No, it can’t be. He did not even see me, why?
GET YOUR COPY NOW! BY BILLY SCOTT
OR SHARE AS A GREAT GIFT FOR FAMILY OR FRIENDS!!!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BILLY SCOTT'S NEW
"TRIANGLE OF ANGELS" IS
coming soon!!!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BILLY SCOTT'S NEW
"TRIANGLE OF ANGELS" IS
coming soon!!!
"Triangle of Angels"
by AWARD WINNING
AUTHOR BILLY SCOTT
CURRENTLY AVAILABLE only in E-BOOK
FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****
FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****
I opened my eyes after a quick blink. I could see the ground below me. Passing by as if I were inside one of those glass bubble turrets mounted on the underbelly of a B-52 bomber. You know the place where the large machine guns stick out to protect the aircraft while out on a dangerous missions from the opposing enemy planes.
However, I was in no bubble; descending and gliding over green hills, meadows, and forest. I saw the sights from a great height. The oceans edge is always a delightful incentive to keep viewing, but the sudden sound of a man coughing jarred me from my visions of some arcane pass life.
The dream ends so my eyes open to new surrounding. Looking up at the stucco tile on the ceiling, I rise from the lying position and place my tan dress socks back into my shoes next to the couch. The same man who coughed spoke and began saying,
“I’m sorry; our time is up. I can see you next week maybe Tuesday around 11 a.m. if that fits your schedule.”
“Thanks Doc, I’m sorry. I must have dosed off to sleep.”
“Not at all, just see Janis on the way out she will schedule your next appointment for you.”
Groggy and feeling half sedated from the anxiety pill that was wearing off I retrieve my jacket from the coat rack to make myself presentable to the public eye once more. The doc kindly showed me to the door and shook my hand then I saw him returning to his notes, or maybe he was texting on his I-pod, Or playing Tetris, not really sure.
I walked out of there thinking that the past regression sessions are just a bunch of bunk. My thoughts beckon me for a split second making me question ‘what is real? Was it the memory or the moment I'm not sure what to believe, which one I am truly experiencing right now?
Stepping outside under the shade of the building, the bright sun made me pause for a brief second. The warmth of the rays on my face feel good. The blueness of the sky creates an uplifting feeling inside me. People are walking up and down the sidewalks so I join them and stroll onward. I head eastward toward the smell of ocean and seafood. It is tourist season here in the Keys of Florida, I feel it is so contrite. They come in with skin lily white and leave as cooked red lobsters. The locals are easy to spot; they are the ones who are tan and brown as based turkeys.
Indecisive of my desire of what to eat, I let the drawing of the smoky shrimp scampi lure me to my favorite hole in the wall the “CRAB SHACK”.
More tourists tromp out the front doors in flamingo shirts and Bahamas shorts than I cared to look at. Despite the need to fit in fashion-wise, I adjusted my light sport jacket to the fame of my shoulders. With a little snap to my head. I let the creaking of a self-chiropractic adjustment prepare me for an entrance. It was just in case any beauty cuties inside see me walk-in. I want it to be with an air of confidence.
Unfortunately, the establishment is mostly empty this time of the day, all except for the few elderly condo commandos who are unable to walk too far along the beach shores anymore. Therefore, they now take up the bar-stools like ‘perched pelicans’ on a docking boat pole. I shrug as I soon joined them in their habitation behaviors by becoming a snowbird perched pelican of native origins myself.
Sitting at the secluded seats near the bar’s end where it curves and gives a clear view out the window toward the beach and the door entrance I begin my balancing act on my own bar stool.
The swinging doors behind the bar leading to the kitchen had flung open and she walked in following the a guy in a grungy tee shirt, white pants and a long white apron. He seems to me to be more likely the dishwasher, or an owner or worst the cook. At first glance she kind of took the wind out of my sails. She looked hot in those boots, shorts, and a checkered shirt tied in the front, young, sexy and and my kind of woman (legal). She had to be twenty one, she was serving the beers. With a pad and pencil in hand, she seemed almost lost in her own world of thoughts. I guessed she was preparing for the afternoon bird rush of more pelicans. She catches me out of the corner of her eye and looks over my way. Quick thoughts flood my mind, did you brush your teeth? suck in your gut, kumquat! is my my hair combed correctly? I didn't have much time to answer my own inward questions, before she said...“Hello.”
AUTHOR BILLY SCOTT
Jack; shows great promise in that he has acquired the desires of most men...”Money.” Not just any money, but Wall-Street Money. Unfortunately for Jack, Shelly Darrin overhears one of Jack’s conversations with a New York mobster named Joseph Venetti; Darrin plans to put Venetti in the poor house using Jack as the central pawn. The lines are drawn from the Florida Keys to Chicago, to New York’s major financial centers, creating a Triangle of Angels, fighting for Lust, Money and greed, but some fight for Love.
CURRENTLY AVAILABLE only in E-BOOK
FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****FREE****PREVIEW****
CHAPTER 1
“PERCHED PELICANS”
“PERCHED PELICANS”
I opened my eyes after a quick blink. I could see the ground below me. Passing by as if I were inside one of those glass bubble turrets mounted on the underbelly of a B-52 bomber. You know the place where the large machine guns stick out to protect the aircraft while out on a dangerous missions from the opposing enemy planes.
However, I was in no bubble; descending and gliding over green hills, meadows, and forest. I saw the sights from a great height. The oceans edge is always a delightful incentive to keep viewing, but the sudden sound of a man coughing jarred me from my visions of some arcane pass life.
The dream ends so my eyes open to new surrounding. Looking up at the stucco tile on the ceiling, I rise from the lying position and place my tan dress socks back into my shoes next to the couch. The same man who coughed spoke and began saying,
“I’m sorry; our time is up. I can see you next week maybe Tuesday around 11 a.m. if that fits your schedule.”
“Thanks Doc, I’m sorry. I must have dosed off to sleep.”
“Not at all, just see Janis on the way out she will schedule your next appointment for you.”
Groggy and feeling half sedated from the anxiety pill that was wearing off I retrieve my jacket from the coat rack to make myself presentable to the public eye once more. The doc kindly showed me to the door and shook my hand then I saw him returning to his notes, or maybe he was texting on his I-pod, Or playing Tetris, not really sure.
I walked out of there thinking that the past regression sessions are just a bunch of bunk. My thoughts beckon me for a split second making me question ‘what is real? Was it the memory or the moment I'm not sure what to believe, which one I am truly experiencing right now?
Stepping outside under the shade of the building, the bright sun made me pause for a brief second. The warmth of the rays on my face feel good. The blueness of the sky creates an uplifting feeling inside me. People are walking up and down the sidewalks so I join them and stroll onward. I head eastward toward the smell of ocean and seafood. It is tourist season here in the Keys of Florida, I feel it is so contrite. They come in with skin lily white and leave as cooked red lobsters. The locals are easy to spot; they are the ones who are tan and brown as based turkeys.
Indecisive of my desire of what to eat, I let the drawing of the smoky shrimp scampi lure me to my favorite hole in the wall the “CRAB SHACK”.
More tourists tromp out the front doors in flamingo shirts and Bahamas shorts than I cared to look at. Despite the need to fit in fashion-wise, I adjusted my light sport jacket to the fame of my shoulders. With a little snap to my head. I let the creaking of a self-chiropractic adjustment prepare me for an entrance. It was just in case any beauty cuties inside see me walk-in. I want it to be with an air of confidence.
Unfortunately, the establishment is mostly empty this time of the day, all except for the few elderly condo commandos who are unable to walk too far along the beach shores anymore. Therefore, they now take up the bar-stools like ‘perched pelicans’ on a docking boat pole. I shrug as I soon joined them in their habitation behaviors by becoming a snowbird perched pelican of native origins myself.
Sitting at the secluded seats near the bar’s end where it curves and gives a clear view out the window toward the beach and the door entrance I begin my balancing act on my own bar stool.
The swinging doors behind the bar leading to the kitchen had flung open and she walked in following the a guy in a grungy tee shirt, white pants and a long white apron. He seems to me to be more likely the dishwasher, or an owner or worst the cook. At first glance she kind of took the wind out of my sails. She looked hot in those boots, shorts, and a checkered shirt tied in the front, young, sexy and and my kind of woman (legal). She had to be twenty one, she was serving the beers. With a pad and pencil in hand, she seemed almost lost in her own world of thoughts. I guessed she was preparing for the afternoon bird rush of more pelicans. She catches me out of the corner of her eye and looks over my way. Quick thoughts flood my mind, did you brush your teeth? suck in your gut, kumquat! is my my hair combed correctly? I didn't have much time to answer my own inward questions, before she said...“Hello.”
