About the author
Elizabeth has worked in the community for the bulk of her professional career. She enjoys quiet moments, action flicks, and dancing with her four-year-old. THE SECOND SIGN is her debut novel. You can find more information about Elizabeth at:
Website: http://www.Twitter: https://twitter.com/
Bred to believe in the war between angels and demons, Gabby has come to the conclusion that love is responsible for war, jealousy, and all the other deadly sins she can think of. So when she’s exiled to the middle of nowhere for getting kicked out of her fifth school for fighting, she doesn’t expect to meet Jake. Much less fall in love. But Jake is quickly drawn to the eerie beauty of her violet eyes while Gabby is unsettled by their undeniable connection.
When a demon guardian comes to collect her soul, she refuses to give it up. She’s not a demon. She can’t be. Her father and twin brother are angels. The demon gives Gabby twenty-four hours to decide her allegiance, and then starts killing her short list of friends, leaving a message behind: She is the Second Sign.
As Gabby and Jake begin to unravel the mystery behind the Second Sign, she learns Jake may be the key to saving her soul. But it means a sacrifice has to be made that will change their lives forever.
Amazon buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Second-
Sign-ebook/dp/B00BBK3BYU/ref= tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding= UTF8&sr=8-1&qid=1375744342
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/
w/the-second-sign-elizabeth- arroyo/1114135496?ean= 9781938404306
The floorboards creaked under the Intruder as he walked up the aisle of the small church. Moving shadows crept along the walls, brought to life by the flickering candles that rimmed the nave. Looming carved pieces, depicting the last moments of the prophet vital to this particular religion’s history, hung between stained glass windows. The deity's name didn't matter, known as many different names in the world. What mattered was that people believed.
Belief was power.
The Intruder sauntered toward the altar, a hint of incense in the air. A stone baptismal fountain laid on the floor to his left, large enough to bathe a child or drown one depending on your intent. His eyes settled on the iconic figure crucified and displayed for all to see. He found a moment’s peace gazing up at the idolized portrayal of death. Crucifixion was a martyr's death, instilling fear in those that witnessed it. Fear begets conformity in all creatures. The Intruder looked down at his own palms, tracing his own scars with his thumb. There were many ways to kill a man. But only one way to kill a soul.
Genuflecting, he crossed himself as was the customary fashion, and then slid into a pew and leaned forward, his head bowed in reverence. He no longer prayed, had forgotten how over the many centuries. Memories were blurred in his mind, unable to remember his true name. The reference of time held no meaning for him. Nothing mattered but peace of mind.
He lifted his head and gazed upon a statue of one of the Fallen. The Fallen's arm was raised high over his head as if to shield himself from an expected blow. A serpent coiled around his leg up his waist, its tail curled around his wrist holding him down to the base, his mouth open in a silent eternal scream.
The Intruder knew one day he would meet the same fate. But not yet. He had work to finish still. Peace was all he wanted.
He inhaled deeply. A door creaked and footsteps approached. The echoes pounded in his ears.
“May I help you?” a man's voice asked.
The Intruder scowled. Peace was never afforded to the wicked. “I've come for the rite of confession,” he said, his voice thick.
The man smiled, momentarily smoothing out the deep lines of his face. His white thinning hair almost glowed against his black cleric shirt. His Roman collar opened at the throat meant he was almost done for the evening. Almost.
“Good. The young seem to have forgotten the meaning of the word,“ the man responded. His soft gray eyes sparkled in the dim light. “Come, let us sit closer to the altar. The pews have gotten too hard for an old man. “The priest led him to two cushioned chairs near the altar. “Sit, sit.“
The Intruder sat.
The priest waited for him to begin.