Product Description

In this heart-pounding thriller full of dark passion, an ambitious investigativereporter faces off with a mysterious serial killer who might just turn out to behis own lover.

Gabriel Kaine is working furiously to revive his stalled reporting career. Yearsago, he got his first big break by investigating murders committed by a killerknown as the Messiah. But when the Messiah vanished from the public six monthsago, Gabriel's success hit a downward slope.

Now the Messiah has returned, and no one is safe from his evil. Desperate to bring this man to justice and to reap the professional reward for uncovering thefinal truth, Gabriel teams up with Jazz McKinney, the only known survivor of anencounter with the Messiah who was freed by the killer so he could warn othersof an encounter with the Messiah who was freed by the killer so he could warnothers of the Messiah's impending return. But as Gabriel and Jazz come closer todiscovering the Messiah's identity, Gabriel realizes all the evidence points toDr. Garrett Lord - a respected doctor and Gabriel's lover.

The personal stakes have never been higher, and readers will be on the edge oftheir seats to see what awful truths are uncovered in this take of misguided passion, deadly secrets, and thrilling danger.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #665562 in Books
• Published on: 2007-07-24
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 240 pages

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

Dr. Garrett Lord woke up suddenly, gasping for air. He lay in the middle of his king-sized bed in his bedroom, bloodied and naked, aside from the small silver cross, which hung around his neck.

He was terrified.

He sat up and looked around his room. All was quiet. He listened to the silence in an attempt to ascertain if he was alone. He heard no sounds, except for his breathing, as the morning sun cut sharp slivers through the blinds, giving way to another brilliant summer day. He could hear the birds chirping in the trees outside his window, but his heart was full of dread.

The stillness of the room alarmed him, much like the calm before a storm. He looked down at his blood-stained hands as if this was the first time he had seen them. Minus their reddish hue, they looked the same; they were the same size and the same shape, yet, in some sense, they looked entirely unfamiliar. Part of him felt as if he was looking at a stranger's hands, and he wondered what had happened.

Then, he noticed the bloodied sheets. The red stains glared up and mocked him while daring him to discover their origins.

Have I been cut? Stabbed? In an accident?

He suddenly panicked as a thousand unpleasant thoughts buzzed through his head. His frantic hands raced across his taut frame seeking a wound or a cut, but neither could be found. He leapt out of bed with the spryness of a teenager and tore the eggshell-colored silk sheets off his bed and threw them in a corner. He had to see his face.

As soon as he entered the room, lights above the long, rectangular mirror, which were operated by sensors, lit up the darkened space.

He gasped when he saw his reflection in the mirror.

Dried blood had congealed around his nose, and a bloodied wound above his left eye was visible and sore to the touch.

Sweet Jesus, keep me near the cross.

Immediately, he pumped a handful of soap out of the dispenser into his large hands and then stuck them underneath the faucet, which was also controlled by sensors, causing a cold blast of water to shoot out. He washed feverishly and furiously, trying to scrub away any sign or trace of blood. As he cleaned his hands, a most unpleasant thought crept across his mind; a thought so vile, it caused him to momentarily stop what he was doing. What if this isn't my blood?He scrubbed furiously trying to wash away the stains -- and his thoughts. He scrubbed his hands, his wrists, his forearms, all the way up to his elbows. He didn't even care that the water was becoming hot enough to scald.

He then grabbed the expensive soap he used only on his face and lathered up his hands again. He scrubbed his face furiously, nicking his own self with his fingernails at times, until all of the blood had been removed. A pinkish ring formed in his marble sink where the bloody water had risen taunting him -- even daring him -- to remember what had happened.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. Something unfamiliar and sinister lurked behind his usually bright eyes. In part, he didn't recognize his own face. It wasn't as if he didn't look the same. It was as if he stared into a trick mirror, in which his image was slightly distorted. He shook his head forcefully to clear his mind.

He needed to know what had happened. He took a deep and deliberate breath and tried to recall the events that could explain his present state, but when he searched his memory, all he could see was blackness. It was as if his memory had been intentionally erased. The last thing he remembered was being in church, on a Wednesday night for a special meeting, listening to his pastor make a startling confession, when his nose began to bleed.

He couldn't even remember the details of the confession.

He remembered sitting in the pews, with his eyes tightly closed, shaking his head from side-to-side, hoping the pastor's words were a cruel joke and would fade away when he opened his eyes. He remembered feeling nauseous and a bit dizzy and then someone tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the blood that stained his blue shirt. When Garrett touched his nose and he drew his fingers back, they were stained by his own blood.

He remembered darting out of the sanctuary holding his nose.

Everything after that was a mystery.

Not another blackout.

Garrett had thought the worst was behind him. He hadn't had a blackout in six months, but when his nose started to bleed in church, he panicked because nosebleeds usually preceded his loss of consciousness.

Two years ago, he suffered his first blackout. He remembered waking up in a strange hotel on the outskirts of the city, naked, except for the cross around his neck. He hadn't told anyone about his blackouts, except his doctor, who could not determine a physiological reason. He suggested that Garrett seek the assistance of a psychiatrist, but Garrett balked at the suggestion. I ain't crazy, he remembered thinking as he marched out of the doctor's office in a huff.

Garrett dried his face and walked out of his restroom, almost in a daze, his breathing heavy, and looked around his bedroom for the clothing he had worn the night before. He hoped to search the pockets for some clue about what had transpired, but he could not find them. He half-expected to see a balled-up pair of slacks and a blood-stained shirt in a corner somewhere in the room, but aside from a half-empty cup of tea on his nightstand, the room was immaculate.

No pants.

No shirt.

No shoes.

He raced over to the closet, tore open the door and stepped into the bedroom-sized walk-in closet. Everything in the closet was arranged neatly, by color and style, with blazers on the left and slacks on the right, from light to dark. Directly in front of him was a wall full of shoes and every pair was accounted for.

He peeled back the hangers and looked closely at all of his blue shirts. The one he'd had on was not there.

Maybe I took it to the cleaners? He tried to wrap himself in that thought, but it didn't feel right.

He stepped out of the closet and gazed around the room. Everything was in perfect order, but something didn't feel right. Even the colorful floral arrangement, which was centered on a round table near the fireplace, looked undisturbed. Then, he noticed something out of place on the table. A lone half-sheet of white paper was on the table. It looked as if it had been deliberately left for him. He looked at the table again and moved closer. He took small, carefully timed steps as if the paper would lunge at him if he moved too quickly. Once close enough, he looked oddly at the unfamiliar handwriting and the unusual word, which was etched across the paper:

covenant

He raised his eyebrows in confusion and rubbed his hands over his bald head.

What does that mean?

It was not unusual for him to find odd objects after one of his spells. In the past he had found clothing that wasn't his, jewelry that he had never seen and on one occasion, he found a lock of jet-black, silky-smooth hair on the floor next to his car keys. Each time he found something unfamiliar, he'd throw it away. He never tried to figure out where the objects came from.

Something powerful at his core had always told him that he didn't want to know. However, this time was different. This time he wanted to know; this time, he had to know. He knew that he could no longer ignore that some- thing with him was terribly wrong. He could no longer deny his bizarre disappearances or the strange appearance of mysterious objects or his bruised flesh. The mystery of this blackout was beginning to take its toll on him. He could feel a headache creeping up like a slow-moving fog.

Again, he searched his memory, but he simply could not recall anything after he ran out of the church. He knew that he must have gone to the restroom because he wouldn't have gotten into his car while bleeding, but he couldn't remember. He rubbed the paper between his index finger and thumb, hoping that it would jar his memory, but it didn't.

He jumped when he heard the ringing of his cell phone. Immediately, he looked toward his nightstand -- the phone's usual resting place -- but it was not there. He listened more closely, but the sound eluded him. He darted quickly through the room, trying to get closer to the sound, when he finally figured out that the ringing was coming from under his bed. He dropped to his knees, raised the bed skirt and peered under it. He grabbed the phone right before his voice mail picked up.

"Hello?" he said. As soon as the word left his mouth, he realized that he sounded out of breath.

"Baby, what's going on?" the exasperated voice on the other end of the phone inquired. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Garrett said as he got up from the floor and sat his naked ass on the bed. Gabriel's voice on the other end of the phone was full of concern and worry.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at home. Why?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, why? Wassup?"

"Where have you been?"

"What do you mean?"

"Baby, I've been calling you for hours. You were supposed to pick me up from the airport last night," the voice stated dryly. "I'm at your gate. Buzz me in."

Shit.

Garrett hung up the phone and walked over to the control panel on the wall near the intercom system and hit the "open" button so that the gate would roll back. He searched for something to put on and went over to his chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of warm-ups and a "wife beater." Hurriedly, he raced downstairs, all the while his mind searching for answers that would not come. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Gabriel and he only had a few seconds to come up with something believable.

Garrett anxiously opened the door as Gabriel was about to knock.

"Hey," Gabriel said as he walked in, his face bent with curiosity. Garrett pushed the door shut and gave him a small hug that was uncharacteristic of their usual embrace.

Gabriel pushed away.

"I've been calling you all night. I was worried as hell about you. I thought you had been in an accident or something. I called the hospita...

Customer Reviews

OH MY GOD!
Lee Hayes is a talented author who has the ability to snatch you into a story and keep you spell bound until the telling is told. After reading Passion Marks, I didn't think he would ever be able to top that story but I was wrong.

The Messiah is an excellant story that will keep you on your toes, turning pages and wanting more. If you love a story that will keep you guessing until they very end, you owe it to yourself to pick up this book!

My only problem now is figuring out where Mr. Hayes got all these demented ideas.

Great job Lee, I can't wait to see what else you've got up your sleeve cause you did the darn thang with this one.

GBM BOOKCLUB
Lee Hayes, author of Passion Marks and A Deeper Blue: Passion Marks II, is back and trust me when we say he is going to blow you away with his heart -pounding thriller, The Messiah. Lee Hayes definitely takes a different direction from his previous novels.

The Messiah takes you through a path of mystery and suspense. What was going to be a night of sexual pleasure for Jazz McKinney turns out to be a night that almost cost him his life. As Jazz anticipates meeting the man of his dreams from the Internet, it unfortunately turns out to be the date from hell. Jazz is brutally beaten and nearly castrated by his attacker, who calls himself The Messiah, better known as "Alpha and Omega". The Messiah is on a personal, sick and twisted quest to save the soul of all homosexuals; however the price each of his victims must pay for their redemption is death.

Gabriel Kane is the ambitious investigative reporter who has followed this serial killer since the beginning. Unfortunately, when The Messiah mysteriously vanishes, Gabriel's career comes to an end. Now that the Messiah has come back from the dead, Gabriel finally has the opportunity to uncover the story of who this serial killer is and reinventing his career. He befriends Jazz, the only surviving victim who has actually identified the Messiah. He struggles with the decision of salvaging his career with the story of a lifetime or saving Jazz's life. As Gabriel comes dangerously close to the truth, he will soon discover that The Messiah is someone he loves.

The GBM Bookclub loved The Messiah because we feel that this is Lee Hayes's best work yet. Lee Hayes brought an interesting twist to the storyline. Mystery and suspense were definitely it genres, bringing up some very real questions such as: How dangerous is it really to meet a stranger off the Internet? Does the Church really accept all of God's children's? What would you do if you found out you were dating a killer? Who in fact is the Messiah? If you really want to know, then go get the book.

Until next time

"Another Good Book"
I've read all of Mr. Hayes' novels so far and I've noticed that all his novels have physical violence in it. The storyline was losing my attention towards the middle and I stopped reading it but curiosity got the best of me and I'm glad that I finished it. Disturbing but a good book.