The Serpent Of Paradise

How we perceive our enemy will largely determine how we fight against him. Unless we grasp how the devil fits into God's scheme of things, we will find it difficult to stand against his conspiracy against us personally and his influence within our culture. We can have a proper theology of the devil only if we have a proper theology of God. Only when we stand in awe of God will we find it unnecessary to be in awe of Satan. As Martin Luther once said, 'The devil is God's devil.' God is still in control. The Serpent of Paradise gives an overview of the career of Satan and his interaction with the Almighty. It traces his fall from an exalted position to his demise in everlasting shame and contempt. It shows us that Satan always loses even when 'he wins.' Best of all, it confirms that we who have been translated from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light are able to stand against him. Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. ~ Ephesians 6:10-11 NIV. The Serpent of Paradise is a book about Satan, but it is also a book about God's power, God's program, and God's purposes in this world.

Serpent In Paradise is Dea's account of her quest for Utopia and of the heart-wrenching reality shared by the tiny community of Pitcairn Island - all descendants of the Bounty mutineers

Amy Shannon met Jase Lassiter at a seedy bar called The Serpent, and she should have heeded the warning in the name. At first he offered her paradise--nights of love and days of sheer delight--but the taste of honey turned to ashes on her tongue when she thought she'd been abandoned. Now only Jase's return could satisfy Amy's hunger for promises of love. Would his words take her to paradise, or exile her forever?

From boyhood in Home, Pennsylvania, to his death in Tucson, Arizona, in 1989, this book offers - in Abbey's own words - the world of an American original. Whether writing fact or fiction, Abbey was always an autobiographer. Each of the thirty-five selections presented here, arranged chronologically by date of incident (not of publication), demonstrates that Abbey was passionately, insistently his own man. As poet-farmer Wendell Berry puts it: "He remains Edward Abbey, speaking as and for himself, fighting, literally, for dear life ... for the survival not only of nature, but of human nature, of culture, as only our heritage of works and hopes can define it". To speak for the voiceless was his mission. He was a virtuoso of the well-phrased thought in which style and content, symbol and meaning - each imbued with humor - come together to defy the powerful, reminding us always that preservation of wild nature is a key to a free spirit. And along with Emerson and Thoreau, Abbey, the uncompromising stylist, knew that the corruption of language follows the corruption of man. "Language", Abbey wrote, "seeks to transcend itself, 'to grasp the thing that has no name.'"