Title: The Other Thief: A Collision of Love, Flesh and Faith
Author: Frank McKinney
Purchasing link: https://amzn.to/2D4mawZ
About the book:
Five-time bestselling author Frank McKinney boldly enters the Christian romance genre with this erotic, seductively spiritual love story. The Other Thief will arouse readers and their faith, leaving them wondering which side of the cross they would choose.
Francis Rose, lead singer for a meteorically popular Christian rock band, has it all―fame, fortune, family, and deep faith. With the support of his loving wife, young daughter, and Down-syndrome blessed son, he's gone from performing to an audience of 20 at his tiny Lutheran church in Keeler, Indiana, to selling out 20,000-seat arenas. His impact is global, soulful, and seemingly unstoppable.
The seven deadly sins don't stand a chance against a man of Francis' character, morality, and faith. Or do they? Their alluring assault is relentless as Francis encounters each of them along his ascending path to superstardom. Will the full armor of God protect him, or will his vast talents and blessings be undone by the threats posed by a foreign and unlikely demon?
Is it too late? Can he be saved? Should he be saved?
Excerpt:
Two
valets came running after her, calling “Ma’am! Ma’am!” One put his hand on her
arm and she twirled to face him, looking disoriented, as though she couldn’t
imagine why he’d stopped her.
“I
need your car key, Ma’am,” he said—apologetically, because her distress was
palpable. Mary gave him the keys in her hand, and angrily took the stub offered
by the other valet.
My
heart stiff with fear, unable to breathe, I stood up, utterly unready for whatever
was about to take place.
Mary
lurched to the table like a zombie and leaned against it, staring at me.
“Honey
. . . honey, say something,” I said, bracing for the worst. When she didn’t
respond, I started rambling. “Mary, it’s terrible, I know. God help me, I can
explain. I talked to Pastor–”
Mary
grabbed me around the neck and sobbed, “It’s the worst thing, Francis! Why?
Why?”
Shaking,
I rested my forehead on her shoulder. How could I answer that question? It was
the same question I’d been asking myself, but I’d never gotten any kind of
answer that made sense. Why? Why? Why had I done this to her? My mouth dry, I
pulled her away from me to look into her eyes. “Mary, please know how much I
love you. I made a terrible, terrible mistake.”
“Why
did it happen? Why did it happen, again?” she sobbed.
Her question stunned me. She was finally remembering my
first confession after all this time, and now she was asking how it could
happen again with Cindy!
I
struggled to get my response right. I opened my mouth to speak, but there was
no air to even push out of my lungs. Before I could formulate an answer, she
sobbed, “I guess I should have known better than to drive that route, but I
wasn’t even thinking about it. And then, just as I passed that spot on East Camelback
where we crashed . . . Oh God, I saw her again!” Mary fell into my arms,
dissolving into tears, unable to continue.
Slowly,
it dawned on me. Mary didn’t know. She. Didn’t. Know. Mary still didn’t know my
shameful secrets. She’d had one of her visions, and that was what all this was
about. The rollercoaster ride of my emotions was making me too dizzy to support
her so I led her to a chair at the table and scooted my chair right up next to
hers.
“It
was just a vision, sweetheart,” I said, my hands shaking.
“But
Francis, it wasn’t the same! It was awful! It was the clearest one I’ve ever
had, and you were in it this time! You
were lying on the side of the road. It was so terrible; it looked like you were
dead! It was you and that same woman I’ve seen before. Oh, how I’ve come to
hate her, Francis! That woman with the skin-tight black clothing and the red
lipstick and that long, shiny, black hair. Only . . . only this time, the hair
started to change, Francis! It
seemed to be turning from black to blonde! It was like the woman herself was
changing into a different woman, starting with the hair, but then it all
disappeared before I could see any more. Why? Why does this keep happening to
me? Make it stop!”
My
thoughts formed a tornado in my mind as I took my sobbing, trembling wife into
my arms. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. It’s over now,” I said.
Wiping
her eyes and dabbing at her nose with a napkin, Mary asked, “Francis, why did
you say you made a terrible mistake?”
I
froze.
Mary
continued, “It wasn’t your mistake, honey. I know you don’t like to drive. It
was my mistake that we crashed that night.”
Awash
with more emotions than I knew how to process, I needed to step away to get my
bearings. I said, “Let me get you a drink, sweetheart,” and headed for the bar.
What if this newest vision brought flashes of memory with it? What if she were
about to remember the conversation in the car that preceded the crash? I had to
tell her before she remembered it on her own! But how could I tell her when she
was in such a disoriented frenzy?
“Hey,
look who it is!” said the bartender. It was Dave, the one I’d met the night I’d
been here with Cindy.
“Just
a glass of Chardonnay,” I said, hoping to let him know, with my tone, that I
wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
“That
blonde you came in with the other night, Mr. Rose—wow, what a hottie! I bet
women throw themselves at you like crazy! That Christian rock thing must really
melt the chicks’ hearts—and panties!” He winked at me, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Can
you just get me the wine?”
“Sure,
sure, I’m getting it. I bet it’s for that other beauty you have lined up over
there in the corner. I gotta hand it to you, man, it’s a great gig! What an
act!”
I
threw money on the bar and took Mary’s wine. “Cindy is a longtime family
friend,” I said, “and that beauty over there is my wife.”
Dave
smiled broadly. “Okay, Mr. Christian rock star! Your secret is safe with me!
Rock on!”
Mary
was still visibly shaken when I returned with her wine. Frustrated and at the
end of my rope, I said, “Damn it, sweetheart, I’m so goddamn sorry this keeps
happening. What can I do to help you?”
“Just
please help me make it stop, Francis. With all of Eddie’s issues lately, and
with you being gone so much working on Forgiven,
I’ve really been struggling. I need you now more than ever.”
Mary
brought my hand up and gently laid it to the side of her cheek, searching my
face for reassurance that I would be her hero and protector, just as I’d always
been. Over her shoulder, I saw Bartender Dave watching us. Catching my eye, he
made the zipper-across-the-lips gesture, insinuating that his lips were sealed.
About the Author:
Frank McKinney is a true Renaissance man: a five-time bestselling author, real estate “artist” (creates multi-million dollar oceanfront homes on speculation on the sun-drenched canvas of the Atlantic), actor, ultramarathoner, speaker. He most recently released his 6th book, The Other Thief: A Collision of Love, Flesh and Faith.
