By L. A. Marzulli
Years in the past, paintings 'Mac' Mackenzie used to be a revered newspaper journalist with a superb relations and an outstanding destiny. Now he lives by means of himself, eking out an lifestyles as a contract author. His religion in God, humanity, and almost every thing else is long gone. what is left is a pile of debts and the soreness of his eldest son's loss of life. input a girl in a psychiatric ward, with an off-the-wall tale of ways extraterrestrial beings kidnapped her, created a toddler inside of her, and later stole it. From her probably twisted account springs the capability media tale of the century . . . and extra difficulty than Mac has ever imagined. during this engrossing page-turner, Mac follows his tale to Israel, the place he comes around the continues to be of 1 of the nephilim: an old biblical enormous, sired through demons and born of human ladies. Mac's come upon is simply the top of a terrifying supernatural iceberg --- for the nephilim are again on the earth. And Mac has stumbled onto their mystery. Nephilim winds from the Holy Land to the Nevada desolate tract, via mind-numbing risks and offerings that may impact the way forward for the human race. only one wish stands among Mac and destruction: the facility of the risen Messiah. yet can it retailer Mac and his young children from the evil religious forces that spawned the nephilim? Or satisfy his agonizing quest for which means and goal in existence?
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Extra info for Nephilim: The Truth is Here (Nephilim Series Vol. 1)
But another feeling nagged at him, one he wished he could ignore. What if it were true? He inhaled deeply, almost as if he had forgotten to breathe, and looked again at the ticket to Israel. He slowly picked up the phone and dialed the number. "Shalom," a voice answered, sounding like it was next door. "Is ... ah ... " "This is Uri," a thickly accented voice said. "Is this . " Mac quickly checked the information in the folder. " "Yes. " "Uh . . This is MacKenzie. " Uri asked. " Another pause. "We were hoping you would maybe call.
You've never been here? " "No. I thought about it once, right after college. You know, travel, see Europe, Istanbul ... " Uri nodded toward a picture of a woman with long dark hair that dangled from a 46 necklace of colored braided twine from his rearview mirror. "Rebecca. We've been fourteen years married ... three children. " Mac shifted in his seat and leaned forward, pretending to look at something. "Well, I'm not anymore. It would have been ... ah ... fifteen years. But . . " Mac asked. " Uri smiled proudly.
He asked, unable to think of anywhere else at the moment. "Algiers. " Mac nodded, staring vacantly at his half-drained drink. " the man asked. Mac drained the glass, set it back on the bar, and motioned to the bartender for another. "Israel," he replied. " the man queried. " Sort of," Mac mumbled, and wished the guy would stop asking questions. " Fascinating place, Israel. " the portly man said, twisting one of his pinkie rings. " He laughed, then slurped a generous sip of his drink. "The place is no bigger than the state of New Jersey!