THE DEVIL BETS GOD THAT CHRIST WOULD BE UNABLE TO ACHIEVE DIVINITY IN MODERN TIMES.GOD ACCEPTS THE BET.
|Publisher:||I Am Publishing|
|Product dimensions:||6.20(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.30(d)|
About the Author
Ken Policard, was born and raised in Manhattan, New York. He's worked in the entertainment business for nearly twenty years as a manager, music producer, and songwriter. He's now bicoastal, residing in New York and Los Angeles. Ken and his production team are currently in preproduction of the Blood of Eden film. He expects 2012 is going to be an interesting year.
Read an Excerpt
It was too cold, too wet. Christmastime in the bayou felt like the dank, flooded cellar of an unheated cathedral, but that didn’t matter now. Only one thing mattered, and it lay ahead, somewhere in the windblown darkness. In his younger days, Jacob Molinari slogged through the marshes of the Po River delta in his native Italy, harvesting reeds for the basket weavers of his family’s ancestral village. Despite the passage of some thirty-odd years, his muscles still retained the memory of youth. His thighs cramped in protest, but he pushed himself through the pain. He had to move fast. Faster than... No! Don’t say it! It was too risky to even whisper the word, or even worse, the name. In this moment and for this sacred task, it would be blasphemy.
The clock struck midnight only minutes before. The most blessed day of the Christian year had come once again, briefly renewing the hopes of a weary world, but the world was unaware that lightning was about to strike twice on Man’s eternal calendar. Few mortals had any inkling of what would transpire over the next few hours. Unless he could safeguard the event, Molinari knew with terrifying certainty that it would surely come and go without a trace, and then all would be lost.
He tripped over a submerged log and fell to the muddy ground. He took a moment to collect his breath—or was he giving up? Was he overcome by fear? Could he really expect to survive? The pain, if he were to fail, would surely be beyond torture. Wind rustled the trees all about him, and he thought of the Garden of Gethsemane. The Christians say that even Jesus had His moment of doubt and pain. Turning his head to the side to breathe, Molinari gathered his second wind. The rain came harder now, washing away the mud that splashed on his face when he fell. Yes, Jesus did have his moment of doubt and pain, as any man would, Molinari told himself. And still, the man kept going.
Revived from the downpour, Molinari pushed himself up from the mud and looked ahead. The night sky to the east had not yet clouded over. He could still see the three stars of Orion’s belt. Tonight they aligned with Sirius, the brightest star in the east, and pointed to the dim lights of a ramshackle medical clinic in the distance. Bayou Memorial Hospital was one of the many rural clinics built throughout the South during the New Deal. It was deep in the bayou, miles outside of New Orleans, a place the rural poor had relied upon for decades. The facility was understaffed, under-funded, and overcrowded; the roof leaked, the plumbing rattled, and mold had taken up residence behind the cracked plaster walls. It was a humble setting for an event that would save Mankind, if Molinari could get there on time.
His eyes widened with hope, seeing the lights of the clinic ahead, and he blinked away the rain streaming down his forehead. He took a deep, resolute breath, struggled to his feet, and willed himself forward with grim determination. The pain no longer mattered. Only one thing did.
There was no fear anymore, at least no fear of what would happen on this holy night. Whatever fear was left in him was focused on the future. The impending doom was so palpable that he could smell it, a pall that hung over the world like decaying flesh. What drove him forward was the utter certainty of the disaster that would surely occur if he couldn’t make it through the front door of the clinic in the next few minutes. “That’s it. Breathe, child,” Rose said, coaching the young woman in labor, who shifted uncomfortably in the bed of Room Three. “Come on, Melissa! Hang in there. You’re gonna be a mother soon.”
It was Melissa’s first child and she was having a hard time of it. She writhed in pain, alarmed as each contraction came on stronger than the last. She wasn’t sure she could stand much more of the ordeal. Her child was stubborn. “A born fighter,” she used to joke. It was something she was well aware of ever since the first kick. And now that the time had come, the child was bound and determined to enter the world. Another contraction brought a fierce scream of pain from her. She kicked at the rusted iron pipes that formed the footboard of her creaking hospital bed. The bed lurched in response, scuffing the worn linoleum floor.
Rose had her hands full with this one. “Please, honey! You gotta be strong for your baby!” She tried to calm Melissa with a damp washcloth, dabbing the young woman’s glistening forehead and chattering with small talk to distract her from the pain. “Oh, yes, we got quite a few like you in here tonight, honey. Mmmm, hmmm. I ain’t never seen it so busy ’round here!” Rose smiled at Melissa. “Now breathe, child. Breathe...” Melissa didn’t care how busy the place was, or how busy Rose was. All she wanted was for the pain to be over and her baby to be sleeping in her arms.
They both heard the door opening. Melissa tried to see around Rose, but she couldn’t manage. Rose turned to see who it was, expecting reinforcements, but the hopeful light in her eyes dimmed when she saw who came into the room. Father Vicente nodded hello and approached them, crossing himself, a Bible clutched in his other hand. He was a short, tidy Latino gentleman with a stooped, bookish posture and a set of gleaming white teeth. His lips parted in a congenial smile. “I’m Father Vicente, the new chaplain.” Rose nodded hello, but she sighed in silent frustration. Still, a priest was better than nothing. They did tend to calm things a little, though they were no substitute for a doctor.
The door shut behind Vicente and he stood beside the bed, smiling down at Melissa. He knew exactly who she was, where she was from, and what her circumstances were, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the child in her womb. He had no idea how they found her, but they had, and that in itself was a miracle. He had been able to verify everything, down to the last detail. When the envoy from Rome came to visit just three days ago, he took great pains to ensure that Vicente knew exactly what the circumstances were. It took several hours for the envoy and his assistants to walk Vicente through the history and cosmology of the great secret that had been festering within the walls of the Vatican for nearly two millennia. Vicente was literally struck dumb when he learned the truth. As with any good Catholic, he had no idea, none whatsoever. Despite his initial shock, which was so profound that he vomited, in the end he finally came to understand that there was simply too much at stake. Something had to be done, and if Mother Church needed him to help, how could he refuse? The Church was his life; it was all that he had ever known.
God works in mysterious ways, indeed! Father Vicente reflected with bitter irony. Even through such a humble agent as myself.
Melissa winced in pain, squeezing tears from her eyes. He gently took her hand and smiled again, but she was in far too much pain to reply. “Thank you, Father,” the nurse murmured on her behalf. Vicente glanced at her and nodded, then his eyes shifted back to Melissa. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Merry Christmas, my child.” She tried to give him a brave smile, but she wasn’t feeling very brave at the moment. He sat on the edge of the bed, gently cradling Melissa’s hand in his. He placed his Bible on the nightstand as Melissa clenched her jaw in a sudden onrush of exquisite pain. She arched her back, breathing rapid and deep through flared nostrils. He touched her abdomen and felt the baby move. At that moment, her water broke.
“Aahhh!” Melissa breathed, a little embarrassed.
“Her time has come,” Vicente informed Rose. “Bring the doctor. Hurry.”
Rose hesitated, glancing at Melissa. She didn’t want to leave a woman in the throes of labor without medical attention. Anything could happen at this point, but Vicente’s gaze was as insistent as it was reassuring. “She is in good hands. Go now.”
Rose glanced at Melissa and left the room. As she closed the door behind her, she heard Vicente begin to pray in Latin. “Pater noster qui es in coelis, Sanctificetur nomen tuum...” Rose caught Evelyn’s eye as she was backing out of Room Five with an empty wheelchair. The shift supervisor found herself picking up the slack wherever she could; she felt she was more of a den mother than anything else. “That walk-in’s ready to pop,” Rose told her boss. “You do up a folder for her yet?” Evelyn shook her head; she was swamped. Rose looked up and down the hallway. “Where’s Dr. Garrity at?”
Evelyn steered the wheelchair down the hall and pointed back to Room Nine. Rose stepped closer to the room and peeked inside. Dr. Garrity was delivering a baby, assisted by one of the young nurses. “It’s a boy,” the doctor announced. “Doctor,” one of the nurses said tersely, “She’s not responding.” Rose stepped back from the open door; they didn’t need anyone looking over their shoulders now. As she backed away, she saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned. A man, his clothes wet and muddy, had just come up the main staircase. He was breathing hard, like he just finished running a race. He moved quickly down the hall toward her, looking into each room as he approached. Melissa’s breathing was fast and deep and the sweat streamed off her face, staining her faded hospital gown. As he held Melissa’s hand, Vicente slipped his other hand into the sleeve of his tunic and withdrew a large ornate crucifix.
“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in coelo, & in terra...” Behind him, the door silently yawned open. The old wood door had warped over the years and the latch didn’t line up properly. A nurse scurried past the room, and then a patient hobbled by wheeling an IV stand. Neither of them glanced in the room, and Vicente didn’t notice them, either, intent as he was on the task at hand.
“Panem nostrum quotidiamum da nobis hodie...”
He grasped the crucifix like a dagger and nudged the golden body of Christ with his thumb. The figurine and the polished shaft of wormwood that it was nailed to slipped free of the razor-sharp iron blade inside.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
SPEAKING AS A PRINT-OUT HARDBACK FAN: Foremost, Might I Begin Applauding The Ink; each page well-scriptive with either a triad of unrelative texts or a remarkable detailed crucifixion, used for intervening the period, equipped with an epic illustrative covering, this writer I'd elect a diligent case waiting to be amenable, & considering this novel idea a sincere antique!!. STORYWISE: Thinking Collective Perceptuals -- expecting same ole customary mannerisms, is not an issue.! Every Character's Characteristics//persona lives the standout anti-communism, while there's other modern-stage that are communist as well, depending the country you have landed, the story does wings you upon some very intresting air travels; A Mind Voyage, Blood-Of-Eden introduces humanbeings chanting emotional/soul-felt bible quotes, to faulty priests being administered by high angels, amongst a cherishable disrupted devil, withal, remaining a significant, delicate, towards their role; Superb, needless to say, it'll have you frequently brainstorming, "whos the recarnation of christ" until your wonders have went beyond the dirt & have hit sea floor bottom, scanning Mother earth, from the commence!.. FAVORS: I admit, I favor "Zamba" a Master at working mystics, not quite a god-of-fallen nor humanbeing but yet, could relate entirely to both sides! Even his islands-style exotic attire suits the breeze his apparation brings. . He's not the protaganist[A Detective, Agent Christine Mas, who longs her father's killer] who also opens her light in an incomparable manner, sometimes accompanied by her tolerate pet bull terrier but, Zamba more conducts a virtuoso shadow; let alone, its subtlest-trace adept in miraging talents of its own. .! MEMORABLE: "Beth watched him sprinting in a dead heat for the plane, and her heart soared. She was wondering when he was finally going to make his move, and maybe this would be it. She hoped so; she dearly wanted grandchildren."~Blood of Eden, By Ken Policard!!!. 'I could reread it over & over again!!. I'd recommend Mature Minds, only!.. Loves it!!!!!' ~Reviewd By King Fryypaccinni!
"Blood of Eden" by Ken Policard is a tale of the faithful and the fallen and of the wager between God and the devil that sets human existence in the unknowing hands of the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. The story blends the lives of people that - either, by fate or by providence - come together to track a serial killer that has been at large for 33 years. Leading the case is FBI Agent Mas, who staggers along a blind trail, lacking of clues and with a butchery of victims that began in the city of New Orleans and ultimately transitions to the nation of Haiti. Policard delivers a fine and descriptive, well-weaved plot with twists that make the reader gasp. Knit tightly are historical accounts, legends and myths that ornately provide the platform for the ongoing storyline. The personages are well developed, carrying their own voice and personality in tune and in accord to their roles throughout the novel. Mystery, culture, religion and carnage are the elements that bind the reader to this story, leaving him or her agape in the thought that two of the book's primordial characters may well be walking among us. In the wake for the resolve, you may find yourself asking, "Would Jesus do it again?" Whether you are an enthusiast of thrills and mystery or simply a fan of great literature, you will be sure to find yourselves listing "Blood of Eden" as a personal favorite and anxiously awaiting the second installment in this brilliant trilogy. -Nely Cab, Author of "Creatura"
"BLOOD OF EDEN" BY KEN POLICARD I have just finished reading one of the most interesting, exciting, and amazing books I have ever read. I sit here completely breathless, having finished it and a little upset that it's over. Even knowing Ken Policard plans sequels I don't believe they can come fast enough! I simply cannot wait until the next installment in the trilogy. I am breathless with anticipation. I found myself going back over some of the chapters, like an addict looking for more, perhaps just one morsel that I've missed. The characters in this novel are so real and richly developed they pull you right into their lives and compel you to feel the sense of doom they are facing along with the hope that things will turn out right in the end. As controversial as the subject may be for some you'll find yourself unable to stop reading. You will be constantly amazed at the struggle between good and evil and surprised at who you can and can't trust. You will find yourself angry at the fact that some lose the fight ultimately paying with their lives and the very ones you'd like to see go down get away without any repercussions. This story will leave you so full of emotion you'll want to scream just to release it. The most exciting part is the finale', finding out that some of the characters aren't who they seem to be. That along with the sense of elation you feel with the rush of believing again, and regaining some modicum of faith is astounding. I cannot think of a book I've read so far more deserving of movie production. I highly recommend this book, and its sequels it's one you will not soon forget. -Kitty Bullard / Great Minds Think Aloud Book Club
Blood of Eden. Ken Policard. I AM Publishing, 2011. 374 pages. Thoughts on the relationship between God and Satan have most likely crossed the minds of many of us since the beginning of time. Blood of Eden, a first novel by Ken Policard touches on the complexities of that relationship in an interesting manner that brings to mind the interaction between God and Satan in the Book of Job from the Bible. In the Book of Job, Satan inferred that the only reason Job was so faithful to God was because of the abundance of blessings bestowed upon him [Job 1:8-11.] In Blood of Eden, Satan goes so far as to suggest that Christ's life and death were only a success for Christianity because of divine knowledge and that, should God do it again, there would be no such success. This is where Blood of Eden comes in. Satan proposes that God once again place His Son on earth; this time without divine knowledge and with no guidance or intervention from God. The way Satan sees it, no one would willingly sacrifice his own life for one stranger, much less the entire world without knowledge of an eternal reward. God accepts the bet. Should Satan win this bet, God will uncreate mankind. Should Lucifer lose, he must become human. Policard's novel, which naturally falls in the religious thriller genre, has believable characters, fast-paced dialogue and a plot that captures the reader from start to finish; it never falls flat or goes dull. Blood of Eden swims with controverial issues, yet the author has so seamlessly blended fact and fiction, that you may find yourself questioning truths in your own life. Policard also employs well-known and not-so-well-known rich, historical facts about Haiti and Louisiana that will leave those who love history yearning for more. This novel has a global appeal--it will attract readers from every belief, nationality, ethnicity and culture. Policard's subtle sense of humor and knowledge of the subject matter is evident throughout the novel. Overall, I would place Blood of Eden on the "must-read" list.
This is a good book! Scg keisha