Integrity of the Headless Woman
Perfect Bound Softcover
This novel shares one woman’s struggle to overcome the execution caused by divorce and maintain her life in God’s eyes.
From birth, Abigail’s destiny has been chosen for her. The Monarch of Hell has declared that she is his property. Her soul is collateral from her father’s debt to Satan.
Abigail’s guardian angel, Gabriella, appears—but she does not come to help. Instead, she aims to take over Abigail’s life and remove her from the situation Satan has placed her in. It is said she reports directly to Michael the Archangel, and her assignment is to protect Abigail. Another protector is Abigail’s cousin, Montana, a high-profile attorney. She also believes Satan’s price is too high.
Abigail’s husband, Bishop Monroe, is considered to be the “head: of Abigail. Satan’s purpose will be to remove the headship of Abigail’s household—to divorce them one from the other. He will dispatch head-hunting spirits from hell—in the form of “the other woman”—to perform the execution of Abigail’s marriage by removing her headship. Abigail must survive this attempted execution; her continued existence is crucial to the millions of women who are slowly bleeding to death because of the betrayal by their husbands who are demanding divorces.
Bishop Monroe wants an annulment after more than twenty years of marriage to Abigail. Her crazy cousin, Montana, will take on both the bishop and the church to protect Abigail from such a disgrace.
Abigail greeted each of the women . I know some of you are shocked to have learned of Sean and my problems especially having to find out this way. Autumn said only one thing matters Abby we are here to be with you. Thank you said Abby. True friendship is not something I take lightly. Friendship is like a marriage. It takes a lot of work, more so if the fit is not just right at first. I thank each one of you for being that section of my life that would be an empty space if you were not part of it. I should have shared earlier what was going on with Sean and me, but I did not have time too. I was spending so much time with denial for many years.
We are here now and we have something for you, they ladies gave Abigail a beautiful box wrapped in blue satin like paper with a thin silk yellow bow. Abigail slowly opens the present, her heart melts her as tears travel looking for a resting place and finds her heart. She gently removes the fragile crystal gift; it is a crystal bunch of for-get-me-not flowers, every detail was given to make them resemble fresh cut flowers. She caressed each of the ladies with love and thanked them even Montana was moved. After the women settled Abigail shared with the group all what she had learned at the conference with Miss Emanuel. She shared about the headhunters and the pain of being beheaded and the succubus and incubus. The women were fascinated by it all and wanted to know how to get to hear the woman who seems to put their pain and trial into perspective.
As the years went on, I realize something worst was happening. I was losing me. I sure was missing me; I guess I can say I forgot me. Abigail picked up her glass of chilled mint tea to sip from but instead she held the glass up. This tea reminds me of one of my many bad days in the midst of this hell I resided in. I was sitting at a restaurant many years ago sipping ice tea, I placed my glass down, I could not help but notice the ice was melting away into the tea. Strangely, it was drawing me to its tragedy .The once beautiful crystal ice cube, was slowly melting away, no longer was it in existing, there was no shape or form any more, the ice cube had conformed into this brown liquid called tea. The ice had no voice, how could the ice prove it ever existed. The tears started to explode out of my eye socket. I could not breathe; I was holding my neck gasping for air I was suffocating. For a moment, I felt like I was one of the melting ice cubes. I was melting away and losing my identity. I had no shape or form to my life, no meaning at all, just liquid and I was leaking away. I had given up my name. My heart no longer knew a regular beat. It would now beat, to the drums of rejection and betrayal. My surname has been melted away I had become one with this man, whose name I am trying so hard to hold on too. When we get married, we should refer to our status as being born again. Think about it, of course we are. We are giving another name, sealed with it, until death do we part. So divorce I thought must be one of deaths many faces. I was going crazy that day, and by the look on some of your faces, you still think I am. Yes, I told Montana the story, that is where she got the ice idea, but I did not have anything to do with the end part (everyone laughed)
A man has to learn to listen to his wife. I said a lot to Sean, but he did not see to hear. [Everyone looked at her strange again] put it this way, when an hearing impaired person comes to our place of worship we have those that do sign language to communicate to them. They have to see the signs to hear them. That’s how it is with women who scream out for help in so many ways, to many times our signs are not read, our cries falls on blinded eyes. Maybe if some men had learned to see what their wives were saying to them, maybe they would still be alive today, instead of being self inflict victim, of a crime of passion. Society always says. “She just lost it” that is right, she lost it alright. She lost her head to another woman. The head of her household is no longer available to reason with. Therefore, she loses her mind and sometimes sadly, revenge commands attention, she then commits murder.
Only He can satisfy that which belongs to him. Then Grace said wow say that again Abby. Yes only God the lover of our soul can satisfy what belongs to him, he created us. There are places in our minds that only God can come and reason with us. There is a place in our mind, which he alone can enter to communicate with us. It is there we receive the knowledge of self validation.
I had a vision one day of women’s faces, I could not recognize any one, it was as if they were lost in a blue type fog. I was standing in the middle of them in this beautiful dress but I could not see my face I was draped in a beautiful veil on top of the veil was a golden crown with odd stones actually there was no face. My shoulders were strong supporting a bloody neck. I could hear their voices saying, never finding our way back, in our seeking for love, DEATH found us. Let not our dying be in vain, walk in Integrity, we never knew how to survive. Survive for us Abigail. Forget us not.
I woke up so tear full. (The women are all tear full right now)
I am still haunted by this lack of integrity that allows us to fall apart. Integrity we all know means to be whole. Whoever these women were, they were not whole. I imagine some were killed others committed suicide, all because someone did not hear or see their cry for help. All of us here today understands the suicide thought, how it first start by feeling like you are a total failure then the depression and all the demonic voices cheering you on, to take your life and be done with this misery .
The room was silent each woman was reminiscing of their moment of suicide. Montana was pacing the floor Abigail grabbed her by the hand and said, sit next to me. Abigail continued. I need some recipes for a book I am writing I need your remedies for how every one of you, survived the bitter taste that hell sent your way, in your marriage, or your lives. How did you get the strength to turn your neck to wisdom and get back to living after the beheading of your marriage? Why do you think you survived while many bled to death, during the execution of divorce? We have books to help us if we are fat, or too skinny, our hair and makeup, but while I was going through hell with the bishop, there was nothing out there I could relate too. So many people see the axe coming but feel helpless. Do I tell my friend if her husband is hitting on another woman or even hitting on me? What if my friend is hitting on my other friend husband? Or who do I go too if the lust train is heading right into my life and I badly want a man that I know is not fit to be around my children, but I am burning with desire I am as hot as a speeding train rail. Why does someone feel like there is no one they can turn too And the only answer is to allow the spirit of justification to convince them turn to death.
CONTESSA EMANUEL was raised in England and currently lives in Indiana. An ordained evangelist, she has ministered internationally in mega churches and prisons. She hopes to provide empowerment to all ladies. This is her first novel.
Perfect Bound Softcover