Azrael: Angel of Death
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It isn’t news, but I’ll say it anyway: Love means different things to different people. In today’s portrayals and parlance, it is typically presented in wildly--often perversely--sensual terms. It’s all about sex, sex, and more sex. To one reared in a more romantic era, I miss protagonists who would defend a woman’s honor with their last drop of blood. I miss heroines who were modest, chaste and loyal, who didn’t bounce around on beaches, breasts bared and a bottles of beer in their mouths.
So I was and am a romantic. And if my story seems overly romantic in concept, blame it on the likes of C. S. Forester, Alexander Dumas, Lloyd C. Douglas, et.al. And, of course, I’m turned on by romantic poetry. Poe used drugs. So what. In his moments of clarity, he reached into the stars and captured intense beauty and pathos in technically amazing poems such as Annabel Lee. Emily Dickinson never knew a man. So what. In Patterns, she created a powerful statement of love and despair over the death of one.
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Sixteen, innocent, and beautiful, April Perry is gang raped by five hoodlums. To shield her from publicity, her wealthy father sends her to
Shortly after April’s return, a killer using the name of Azrael, the Angel of Death, undertakes the systematic elimination of the rapists. During her absence, April’s high school sweetheart Brad “Rock” Paxton has become a Detective Intern and is partnered with Lt. Luis Agosto, the acting head of Homicide. They are faced with the prospect that the girl that Rock loved as a youth—still loves—may be the killer, Azrael.
When all of the rapists are dead except Josh Sampson--the leader of the gang--Azrael invites a select group to participate in his Josh’s execution. Among those invited are Rock and his partner. They are helpless to deter the gruesome outcome as Azrael is unmasked.