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309 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 27, 2015
Elizabeth was just about to pull away when something seized her. Her fingertips fused against the stone's icy surface. A powerful force snatched her mind and showed her unbelievable things. Distressing images seared themselves into her soul and boiled the blood in her veins.
She saw horrors - exquisite tortures of the worst kind.
A vast legion of monstrous creatures.
She saw Hell.
The pictures in Elizabeth's mind were so wondrous and terrifying that her eyeballs melted inside her skull and leaked down her cheeks while her heart burst in her chest like a pin pricked balloon. When her sixty seven year old body slumped to the ground it was an empty husk and her days of ambling through the fields were over - her retirement irrevocably ended.
When she heard the man mutter the words, 'Fucking Paki,' she was stunned. How dare he! She wasn't even from Pakistan. How could people be so hateful?
She needed a real man, with real man parts.
Mina's tummy churned.
Samantha sipped the hot beverage and sighed at the spreading warmth in her tummy.
"I can't," he whined. "My leg."
Samantha looked down at Samuel's leg and saw that his sprained ankle had developed into a broken shinbone. The glistening white shard poked out of his trousers and glistened with globs of blood.
Guy stamped his foot. "Goddamnit, man. People are drowning in the Hudson River. Are you telling me to leave American civilians to die?"
He lifted both hands away from the keys in horror. The uninvited C Major had been unmistakable. His ears did not lie.
The lad's girlfriend screeched like a tomcat and pounced on the sergeant with her claws out.
AK47 barrels protruded from the car windows like spines on a porcupine.
She almost fell back down to the blood soaked grass as her knees clashed together like cymbals.
Flaps of blackened skin hung from his naked body and littered the floor behind him like gory breadcrumbs.
Aymun's last remaining man went down as two creatures grabbed his arms and yanked them off, bleeding into the air like a sprinkler.
The ordinary people of Iraq were perpetual victims of religion and money, and neither served them well. Tony felt sorry for them in the same way he felt sorry for cows in the field - they didn't realise how much their lives were not their own.
How could the Arab nations ever hope to evolve and pull themselves up out of the dirt if the West interfered every time a government was threatened?
Not that Tony held any respect for the ISN. Like all fanatics, they were monsters hiding behind ideals and traditions - they deserved whatever they got - but it was for the Arab world to deal with them. Only through their own trials and triumphs would the people of the Middle East gain the confidence needed to unite against extremism and join the rest of the world on equal footing.