The Cg Assignment - Softcover

Griese, Yvonne

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1452528608 ISBN 13: 9781452528601

Verlag: BalboaPressAu, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

After two centuries of nonstop guardian duty, Nathaniel the Faithful's wing feathers are still well preened and thick, all the gold tips as good as new. At thirteen-feet tall, he's clearly above the angelic average. He's worked tirelessly as a faithful guardian, not realizing his labors have been observed.

One day Nathaniel is mysteriously summoned to the Angelic Control Epicentre where he meets with Archangel Michael, the warrior who'd led the Great War of Heaven, the one who'd battled head-to-head with Satan. Archangel Michael promotes him to the position of Cross Generational Manager where his assignment calls for him to operate under the radar, positioned in the Forsythe family in Scotland beginning in 1890. Things are never the same in Nathaniel's world.

Heaven and Hell clash as the Lord moves into the neighborhoods of two families and sets in motion a plan that will span three generations. He intends to bring forth a Prophet of Light, but his arch enemy will do anything to stop that from happening. Meanwhile, no one warned Nathaniel that a promotion would be such a stretching experience.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Yvonne Griese is a cognitive behavioral therapist who has worked with survivors of abuse and is an interpreter for the hearing impaired. Yvonne also works with her husband Mark in their family business. She and Mark have been married for forty three years and have four children and nine grandchildren.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The CG Assignment

By Yvonne Griese

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2015 Yvonne Griese
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4525-2860-1

CHAPTER 1

But be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them. — William Shakespeare, from Twelfth Night

The Kingdom of Heaven – Angelic Control Epicentre (ACE)

It occurred to Nathaniel that if he were a human, he'd be breaking out in a cold sweat about now. Yes, undoubtedly this state of affairs would create stress levels of the highest order — if he were a human, that is. He'd be tossing up the pros and cons of obedience (maintaining a tranquil demeanour and staying put) versus rebellion (letting out a soul-shrinking scream and hightailing it through the nearest exit like someone on a bad acid trip). Then, horror of horrors, he'd probably choose rebellion, a downright appealing option — for a human, that is. And then he'd probably — if he weren't an angel — lose it big time and ...

What bizarre train of thought was this? Was he losing his mind? Having another of his escapist fantasies? Both of these were at best scary possibilities, and his heart sank at the mere notion. A guardian just couldn't afford to dabble in vain imaginings, and that was all there was to it.

He began to tremble, starting at the toes and gradually working up to the teeth. When the chattering started to attract some attention, he knew it was time to get a grip. Exercising maximum control, he closed his eyes, counted to ten, and then covertly panned the room by lifting both eyelids and looking from right to left without moving his head.

Oh, hallelujah! Call off the ambulance! This was not a dream sequence that had run amok. He was in fact in the vestibule of the ACE Head Office and really was standing in the blue-ribbon-elite waiting area!

A ball of nervous excitement exploded in his spirit, and he lit up like a meteor in full fall. Multiple dream scenarios flashed through his mind, not least of which involved Nathaniel the Faithful receiving an award for outstanding guardian achievements.

He decided that such an auspicious occasion warranted a wing check, so he looked over his right shoulder towards a gold-framed mirror on the far wall. Wouldn't you know it? After two centuries of nonstop guardian duty, those feathers were still well preened and thick, all the gold tips as good as new.

Turning now to face the mirror, he thought — not for the first time — how good it was to be thirteen feet tall, clearly above the angelic average. In a moment of unbridled vanity, he beamed with pleasure and allowed his eyes to linger on the reflection smiling back.

Oh yes, the old Nathaniel was certainly a step above the guardian norm. Those eyes were the colour of fresh snow, and the diaphanous robes floated like a sea of light.

He swayed from side to side and sashayed into a half-turn and then remembered where he was and glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Fortunately the two ushers were looking towards the entrance. Turning to see what had caught their attention, he was just in time to spot what had to be a grade AA warrior accessing the vestibule.

Everything went as quiet as death. A herald announced Zimron the Valiant as the guy strode through the entrance, screening all and sundry with eyes that flashed gold and white like a Morse code signal box. Energy crackled and bounced off walls as he approached the blue-ribbon waiting area.

The guy stood at twenty feet minimum; he boasted muscles that would turn a panther white, and bedazzled everyone with his gold-and-orange robes, which were reminiscent of a sunrise — or sunset, depending on your perspective.

Nathaniel's flirtation with pride came to a swift and humiliating end. But then again, in terms of one's eternal destiny that was a good thing — disturbing and deflating, but ultimately good. Choosing the path of maturity, he decided to start up a conversation with the only opener that came to mind: "Do you come here often?" A pathetically lame attempt, sadly reflective of how lame he felt at the moment.

Zimron turned towards him, eyes flashing at twice the pace as before, brows furrowed. He said nothing.

Nathaniel cleared his throat and plunged on. "This is my first proper appointment time, actually. I've heard reports, of course, from friends who —"

"Three times!" boomed a voice.

Nathaniel jumped a foot and yelped. He was absolutely mortified but managed a weak "Three times?" in return.

"Yes, I've been here three times. The first was when Moses was approaching the Red Sea and needed a miracle. The second was when the walls of Jericho were about to come down, and the third was during the Crusades."

Well, if Nathaniel had felt a bit threatened before, he was downright panicky now. "Oh, really?" he squeaked in a voice that was a full octave higher than usual. "I did pop in for just a quick roll call two centuries ago at the start of my guardian apprenticeship. Scared wingless I was. Those archangels were so awesome that I fainted and the ushers had to carry me out. It was a categorically tragic humiliation!" He pronounced the last sentence with a flourish of hands, but it turned out to be anticlimactic, because Zimron had wandered off to address one of the ushers.

At this point, Nathaniel tottered dangerously close to the Highway of Offence. Honestly, warriors could be so rude! Happily, that mental collision course was disrupted when multitudes of bells rang out, signalling that it was time for someone to go in. Over the loudspeaker came the cry, "Zimron the Valiant to the inner chamber, Zimron the Valiant to the inner chamber," and as if that weren't enough, the words echoed off every wall and along every hallway.

Zimron galvanised into action and flew off without as much as a goodbye.

"Nice knowing you," Nathaniel muttered. He was wondering what to do next when one of the ushers signalled him to come forward. This guy was friendly but at the same time very businesslike, a combination that luckily had a soothing effect. He flashed a smile of encouragement.

"Nathaniel, our records tell us that you were quite overwhelmed when last presented to an archangel. How are you expecting to respond this time?"

"Well, if I haven't improved in two hundred years, I might as well give the game away!"

The usher threw back his head and laughed. He must have mistaken that last heartfelt comment for a joke. "That's very melodramatic, but don't fret. This time we're going to do some serious prep work on you beforehand. We shouldn't keep you waiting much longer."

"Excellent! Thank you very much!" Nathaniel bellowed. What in heaven's name does prep work entail? It sounds ominous! "I can handle this, I can handle this, I can handle this," he whispered, panic levels shooting up off the graph. Oh, brother, now would be a good time to do some relaxation exercises if he could just find a good focal point.

It didn't take long. The north-facing wall of the vestibule was made from finest crystal and overlooked a snow-dappled mountain range, which soared to mingle with suspended clouds and then plunged into fruitful valleys. Perfect! He spent several minutes contemplating alpine glory while doing non-demonic meditations and Holy Ghost–anointed deep breathing.

Needless to say, all of that did zilch to calm his nerves. Well, what was an angel to make of this situation? An hour ago he'd been in a guardian training session trying to improve his take-off times and struggling to maintain a...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: BalboaPressAu
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2015
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1452528608
• ISBN 13: 9781452528601
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 290
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Europaallee 1; Bad Hersfeld; 36244; Deutschland