Samantha's Secret: Book 3 (The Elvis Angel Series)

Chapter One

****WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ ETERNAL FLAME OR DREAM ANGEL THIS CHAPTER HAS STORY SPOILERS INSIDE OF IT THAT WILL GIVE AWAY THE TWIST!****

                                                             CHAPTER ONE

Samantha Lynn Bennett

Diary Entry: May 10th, 2012

  Secrets, I dislike secrets.  What with all the constant worry that's involved, the mere act of keeping one is exhausting.  I would know.  For more than a year now, I've had my share of secrets.  While some were like precious treasures, meant to be admired in the wee hours of a lonely night, others were like the remnants of a long lost battle, scars from living.

Everyone has them, right?  Of course they do.  At least that's what I keep telling myself because ignoring the truth is complicated, impractical even.  Especially when Mr. Impossible shows up front and center, a walking talking force to be reckoned with—all 170 luscious pounds of him.

As if falling in love with an angel wasn't enough, his arrival brings a new mystery and more secrets, scattering across the landscape of my life like ants, too impossible to count.  And while a part of me wants to keep all my secrets from the light of day, at least for awhile longer, I realize to not share means I go it alone—and that frightens me even more. 

So, I ask myself:  With whom can I share my newest secret?

 My best friend? My pastor maybe? What if my pastor is also my father?  How do I tell the man who once read me bedtime stories that his only child sees angels, hears voices?  Not just any voice, but God himself, shouting demands at all hours of the day and night.

That's right—the big guy, the head honcho.  I know it sounds crazy, but it is the truth when I tell you God is speaking to me.  Though, even as I officially declare my newest revelation in writing—in case something unfortunate befalls me—I question my own reality as much as my worthiness. 

I'm not worthy.  I'm not even ready. In fact, this past year has been such a battle, one that I almost lost, that I'm only now discovering how truly weary I am.  I'm far too tired to go on really, but only a true scoundrel would deny God's request and I'm no fool. 

But, oh how I wish I could rest in the rejuvenating arms of my love, my angel, for just a short while longer. No doubt, his angelic strength would renew me…but I mustn't think about that now.  Reality is bittersweet. I must remain mindful of the Lord's promise to provide all my comforts and pray for a contented heart. 

Lord, let it come to me soon as I'm truly lonely.  My nights are long.  I'm haunted by dreams, and the voices come to me with no warning now. They surge over me in waves so strong that I'm easily swept away, disconnected like some out-of-body experience.  

Why must Heaven place such requests at my feet?  Revelations are meant for saints and angels, and I'm no saint.  I'm sinful and all too human—a real nobody.    

                                              ***

         "Samantha, are you awake?" Heather rapped on a closed door. When no one answered, she leaned in closer and placed an ear to the hard mahogany. For a brief moment, she thought she heard a sound like the light scratching of pen to paper.  Why wasn’t Sam answering?   

          On the other side of that same door, Sam sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed. She was hunched over a writing-pad, her brunette hair cascading over each delicate shoulder concealing the resolve in her ice blue eyes. For once in her southern-born psyche she didn't give a hoot about her unladylike posture. Only the task at hand was important and nothing short of The Second Coming of Christ could have broken through the cyclone that spun Samantha's mind.