Excerpts from 59FS

SPRUCE HILL STUDIOS ... 1-800-984-4944

59 FRONT STREET ... by Martin M. Cassity Jr.... softcover, 760 pages: $12.95 + $3.00 S&H.

A SHOCKING AND CONTROVERSIAL LOOK INSIDE A BORN-AGAIN CHURCH!

Meet Pastor Jim Shanley and young Rebecca Reinhardt, who are finally able to follow their hearts—but with unexpected and drastic consequences!

EXCERPTS:

"Y-you've ... you've grown up," Jim stammers. "You look like your mom now."

"Everybody says that," Becki quips. "I'm just younger and cuter, that's all."

Becki gazes into the cloudy distance. At her temple she has a downy-soft tuft of hair like the fine hock feathers on a young goose. Out of this silky earlock comes a wayward wisp that frolics in the breeze, playing on her cheek. Jim's heart overflows with such force that he fears his bosom will burst. He loves her desperately, unreservedly, madly, agonizingly—a love that pervades his soul as sunshine pervades a summer day.

Joe's face lights. "So you think we should follow love instead of the Bible?"

"That's how I see it," Jim replies. "It seems so right to live from within—or at least to express our inner feelings. How can we truly know each other if we hide our hearts?"

Becki relaxes back longwise on the sofa, and to Jim's surprise, she leaves her stocking feet on his lap. Her knees are lifted and slightly spread, but her billowy skirt covers her legs like a wine-colored tablecloth. Jim doesn't know what to say or do—he just knows her feet are scorching his thighs. "Oh, Shanley, do give me a foot massage. I need my feet rubbed after wearing my new boots." ...........

"Do you like my legs, Jimmy?" she asks.

"They feel fine to me," he replies, as he moves up and caresses her stocking-covered calves.

"No, not down there, up here," she flirts, lifting her skirt, spreading her thighs, showing her panties.

Sudden fever: Becki has come into Jim's office for the first time since their midnight showdown. He gets up, but she shrinks away. His heart slips, begins to sink, but then a tiny glow becomes a burst of pink—and she melts into his arms.

Dr. Logan captures Becki with his eyes. "Rebecca, you must cut it off completely with Jim Shanley. You must love him with 'tough love' so he'll repent. There will be personal pain, but God's love is not selfish, but self-sacrificing—as Jesus showed us on the cross. You must let the Word govern your life, so Lucifer will never again use your emotions to lead you astray. Youthful passions are temporary and deceitful. You can never trust them!"

Becki's note sears the screen of Jim's mind. His thoughts slam against his skull, thundering, crashing, trying to escape this terrible knowing. He flees to the meadow. Sleet stings his face. Ripping up from the pit of his gut, the scream starts as a guttural moan, becomes an anguished howl, then rises into a shrill warbling wail that slashes open the fabric of the night—it echoes across the valley like the keening bray of a British police siren.

Cirrus clouds stream overhead: milky white, fancy as hat plumes. The setting sun balances on the horizon like a great fluorescent egg. Hope wells up in Jim's heart until he's faint with Becki-love. He feels her near, as he has so often over six years. The sun diminishes to a point of haloed red light, like a railroad signal on a foggy night—THEN A VOICE: "Shanley?" BECKI! BECKI! There she is, coming toward him from the woods.

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