"Let There Be Darkness"

Well, summer has been a blur. I have been extremely busy, to say the least. My writing seemed to taper off in June some time. Or did it? I am actually working on writing my first book ever entitled "Let There Be Darkness". I would love some preliminary feedback from my favorite group of readers on the planet. That would be you!

So here is the skinny on the whole thing. There is a popular view that a gap of time exists between Genesis 1:1 and 1:2. In this view another creation may have existed before this one. This is neither provable or disprovable due to the fact that we were not there to observe it. My book will be based on the assumption that there was a previous creation (which is not my personal belief. In it the angels were once human and those who rebelled were doomed to walk bodiless in spirit form during our time, the faithful ones became angels. I will deal with the rebellion that took place as well as the war that led to the end of the first creation. Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer will be central characters as well as a host(no pun intended) of others.

I am aware that it may be controversial to some. Please keep in mind that it is fiction (a what if story). Consider it Biblical fan fiction. My book will be written about a writer named Marcus who is in the midst of writing the fictional story of the first fall. He will have many conversations with friends about the theological implications of the fictional work. This will take place every few chapters.

I am going to let you read an unedited sample of a random piece of the book that takes place near the beginning before the final rebellion or fall of Lucifer. Please let me know what you think. It is only a brief piece, so that the plot is not given away. I will give you one spoiler to the passage below. Lucifer is the sitting judge over Quarhum.

Sample piece to "Let There Be Darkness":

     Yet another murder last night. This makes the third in a week in Quarhum. People murmur about cutting the city off from the rest of society. The Justice Council has ordered a full investigation.  

   

     Sanhalo arrived with Rafael in Quarhum to the sound of pottery breaking and the scent of dung and death. People scurried to a small wooden structure and ran off carrying what appeared to be trash.                             

     He looked on for a moment before grabbing the nearest man’s arm.

     “What news of the deceased, friend?”

     The wide-eyed little man shook his arm violently in an attempt to pull away from the lawman’s grip.      

     “Take your hand off me! Who do you thinks you be?”

     Sanhalo found the people of Quarhum amusing, their conversations proving their reputation among the surrounding populaces as intellectually inferior.

     Sanhalo could tell Rafael, his physician companion, had heard enough. The doctor bent to stare into the man’s eyes.

     “This is Sanhalo, your constable, so I suggest you show some respect.” 

     “I ain’t gots no constable! The law don’t work ‘round here.”           

     “This is true,” Sanhalo said, tightening his grip. “If the law worked, we would not need people like me. Now kindly direct me to the deceased, and we will let you be on your way.” 

     Still clutching the loot, the man gestured toward the wood structure. Sanhalo released him and turned towards the building. 

     “You should have taken him in for stealing from the dead,” Rafael said, grinning.

     “We have more pressing matters.”

     The home of the deceased was so small compared to the buildings on either side of it that it looked as if a goat had been flanked by two bears. 

     Sanhalo stooped to enter.

     “Watch your head, big guy,” Rafael said.           

     Blood spatters covered the walls of the empty one-room shack.  The locals had cleaned this place out in a hurry except for the body and a few blood stained items. 

     “What’s the call?” Sanhalo said.

     “I’m going out on a limb here, but I’d guess dead.”      

     “Wow, you are good. But seriously Doc, when is this madness going to end?” 

     “His name is Keik,” the doctor said, leafing through parchments beside the body. 

     “And how do we know that?” Sanhalo said.

     Rafael handed Sanhalo a blood-spattered document bearing the death mark given to anyone who had committed a sin worthy of death. Sanhalo noticed that the part listing the crime had been torn off. He rolled up the parchment and tucked it in his belt.

     “Let’s get someone in here to clean up this mess.”