The Preacher's DILEMMA: The Preacher's DILEMMA PART 1

By Victoria Charles

THE PREACHER'S DILEMMA
PART 1

THE DEVIL'S DANCE HAS RAILROADED THE PREACHER INTO A DILEMMA!

For the last fourteen years like clockwork, EVERY FRIDAY night the phone rang at our home at 7:14 PM and when I answered, the stranger blew harshly into the receiver, three times, and abruptly the line cut! However, today is different—I grew so angry until I uncontrollably exploded! For the first time I yelled out, "What the Bloody Hell do you want?"

I am being framed and blackmailed for something that I did not do, and I am being Falsely accused of horrific acts. Worst of all, time is running out on me!" I promised my dead Father at his funeral today that I will not go out like that! The Devil is a liar!
The Preacher's Dilemma is an action-packed cliff-hanger that is a suspenseful thriller and mystery, with a twist of Melodrama. The leading character is Dr. Cherry William Doubleday, Jr., who is unknowingly ruled by pride and lies. Dr. Cherry Doubleday and his ex-playboy bunny wife Misty Blues Doubleday are totally in love and fifty-rich yet thought of as humble world leader(s), devoted to the ministry of Christ.
Oh Dear, the Preacher is in trouble. Will his faith SAVE Him? Who knows? A must read to find out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9780578748214

Book preview

Author

ONE

I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.

Philippians 4:13

14 hours: 59 seconds

For the last fourteen years, like clockwork, the phone rang at home every Friday evening at 7:14 PM and when I answered, the stranger blew very harshly into the receiver, three times into the phone and abruptly the line cut. I never had time to say anything or trace the call. According to my resources, the number is untraceable, but I am working on that. However, today is different-I grew so angry until I uncontrollably exploded! For the first time I yelled out, What the bloody hell you want?

To my surprise, he responded, yelling, "Your secret or your life—you have fourteen hours to execute!" The voice sounded disturbing and profound, yet familiar.

I immediately began shaking like a leaf on a stormy tree and abruptly, the phone went dead. What? No time to trace the call, but my gut told me it was him. The Seven-Fourteen Stalker and Operation White Snake. The same stranger that has been stalking me and my family for the last fourteen years and had driven to their deaths thirteen other pastors, their deaths by suicide!

His M.O. is to stalk his victims, forcing them to do the unthinkable act of self-murdering, one of the most vindictive and unforgivable sins there are, suicide. Yes, death by self-infliction and thirteen mega-pastors recently did just that. There is no forgiveness for them. The devil is a liar. I will not go out like that because I choose to fight back!

I am being framed and blackmailed for something I did not do, and I am being falsely accused of horrific acts. Worst of all, time is running out on me! I have less than fourteen hours to find out who is behind my demise or face instant death by the hands of an unknown assassin. This diabolical assignment must end tonight, and it shall because my God will answer by fire!

I hate to say it, but I do believe that my gorgeous sexy wife has something to do with this blackmailing and stalking. The Holy Bible states that warning comes before destruction and He did warn me before I married her. When I first met her fourteen years ago, she was being stalked by some guy named George. I knew in my gut that there was something about her … like Keith Sweat’s song, Something Just Ain’t Right!

Something told me to run when I first met her, but I was spellbound and shy.

Something told me that she was nothing but trouble and to run for my life, but my lustful eyes had gotten the best of me—so I stayed.

Something told me that, "Boy, she is going to be the death of you!" But I did not care because for her love and beauty I would gladly die … until today.

It was love at first sight and I was a full-grown virgin man that needed her sexual deliverance, and she needed my Godly conversion. I was mesmerized like unto the first man on earth, Adam, who rescued his wife Eve after she had sinned with that old serpent, the Devil. Just as he willingly bit off the forbidden fruit to save Eve, I too bit into the forbidden, but unlike Adam, I had no savior to redeem me. I was it! Alone and on my own, I had fallen into a deep mess and left God out of my problems!

My life is on the line but worst of all my entire family’s lives and my great country will be snuffed out in a matter of time! We have only fourteen hours or less left before the terrorist-crazed lunatic pushes the god-darn red button and America is gone! Oh hell, I am down to the wire with less than fourteen hours remaining to decipher the coded gospel letter of my so-called confession and reveal covert top secrets on international television in front of the world, which is bloody, political assignation and is a genocidal assignation in nature.

I thought that my covert operations were a thing of my past worth protecting or worth leaving in the grass, but I was wrong. It has been haunting me for years. It was the worst time of my life… until now!

My dilemma started when I married my wife Misty, an ex-Playboy centerfold, Miss September 1999, in Paris, France, fourteen years ago. Something was wrong with the entire ceremony. It was very strange. I could not put my finger on it, but it was not quite right. People lurking in the shadows taking our photos without our permission and singing love songs as if they honorably knew us but did not.

After the initial wedding service, a young redhead girl whom I had never seen before approached not me, but Misty, with a red letter with my wife’s favorite number, 14, for her mommy’s birthday, in red bold letters that some Chinese man, she explained, had given her to pass onto me. When I looked around for the Chinese man, he eased into a Red Aston Martin followed by four red Audis. Unfortunately, though, I missed the bloody plates! Even so, the damsel had fled and for what? I was clueless at this point.

Something told me to burn it, but I didn’t. It was a small still voice inside of my head that urged me NOT to dwell on the letter’s content because it is a stupid game that someone was playing. Then again, I don’t always follow my first mind until it’s too late. The red letter was not a wedding gift but a bit of a peculiar statement that in one year I will receive another letter with directions that I must follow. Additionally, it stated that I must not go to the constabulary. Go to the bloody police for what? I thought? Straight away, I knew that it was a flux or something so I tossed it in the nearby rubbish container and departed with my wife, for I was in love and I couldn’t wait to get to our villa in Florence to break my virginity!

Exactly one year later my wife and I went to our vacation villa in Florence, Italy, and were planning to visit Rome and King David’s Palace in Jerusalem, but something strange occurred immediately upon arriving. A courier dropped off a letter to me without the sender’s address. I signed for it, tossed it on the countertop, and went on with my day until Misty brought it to my attention and I immediately dropped all my presents and began to read it.

Immediately upon opening it, I noticed the bloody red number 14 and the entire letter was covered in the color hot red. It was strange yet familiar, for it reminded me of the first letter at our wedding ceremony in Paris, France, exactly a year earlier. The letter was very shocking and improperly timed. For it was our first wedding anniversary and Valentine’s Day. A day of celebration and romance abruptly went south. I didn’t want to ruin our anniversary. Henceforth, I never mentioned the letter to Misty because she is too wonderful to be placed in a compromising position of worry and fear, so I kept it a secret.

Misty is special. She grew up a loner because of her mother’s untimely death at the age of twenty-five years old and her father, a world-renowned heart surgeon that practiced mostly in Russia and China. Therefore, all she has is me, for I am her knight in shiny armor. I recall the first time we met on the beaches of San Francisco, California. She had apparently mistaken me for a stalker, some guy named George. I was sure glad that George is not around any longer.

Anyways, love originated for us immediately after we met. Misty is a sexaholic: sex on the beach,