Please join me in welcoming Ron Echols to Novel Kicks and the blog tour for his book, The Last Adam.

Ron Echols’s The Last Adam tells a story where spiritual warfare unfolds alongside everyday life. What begins quietly soon gathers momentum, as hidden forces start influencing events with lasting consequences.

Mary Levitt’s pregnancy becomes the focal point of violent attacks and unexplained visions, revealing a prophecy feared by forces that have waited centuries to act. Her child represents a threat to an ancient balance.

Joseph Riesman’s involvement in a major development project exposes political manipulation and older powers operating beneath visible authority. What seems modern and rational soon gives way to something far more dangerous.

The sacrifice of the archangel Raphael exposes a war involving angels, fallen angels, and human collaborators working across time. Watched and hunted at every turn, Mary and Joseph confront betrayal and spiritual warfare while fighting to protect a life destined to change the world.

Ron has kindly shared an extract from The Last Adam with us today. We really hope you enjoy it. 

*****beginning of extract*****

Prologue

Location: The Lunar Surface, Tranquility Base, southwestern corner of the Sea of Tranquility.

The moon hung motionless, like a dead thing in the void of space. Its pockmarked exterior reflecting the sun’s merciless glare and millennia of asteroids pummeling its surface. In that airless waste where humans had once taken a small step, the lunar dust lay since undisturbed, marked only by boot prints and machinery left behind.

Piercing through the silence of the void, a voice called out.

“Raphael!”

A brilliant white light erupted into existence, hovering above the moon’s surface like a tear in the fabric of space itself. The light intensified until it seemed to bend space around it, taking form. A figure of a man emerged. Behind him, the first suggestion of wings. Translucent, but appearing stronger than steel, they folded against his armor etched with ancient angelic symbols that seemed to move when viewed directly. Dark hair, wild and untamed accentuated his sapphire eyes and caressed his polished, glass-like skin.

The being that called itself Gabriel stood motionless on the lunar surface, its feet leaving no prints in the ancient dust. The face that poets had tried and failed to capture for millennia turned slowly, searching.

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