Priest Sierra Simone Novels & Stories

Michal went to church to pray for her sister, it's been a while she entered the church premises. She got to the altar and knelt gently by the cross "Oh Lord, I know we've been away from you." Michal clasped her hands together in a prayer arrangement. "Forgive me, forgive us. My sis is hurting and I can't bear to see Mirabella in pains, it hurts me." She felt a sharp pain in her chest. "Its hurting."

she had said moments earlier, her voice careful but sharp, “that no new priest was transferred to this parish some months ago?” There had been a pause on the line, long enough to make her chest tighten. When the man from the bishop’s court finally replied, his voice was careful, as though every word had weight. “The old priest is still officially recognized. No replacement. No transfer records,” he said. “Whyare you asking sister ?” Sister Vera had swallowed hard. Her throat felt dry. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Nothing,I'm jus… nevermind.” Another pause followed—longer this time.

In his right hand held a black big rosary that went rolled around his palm. "Please walk away. It's the police. " stated Jessica showing her badge to the people having them all extend. "I know this priest. " muttered Vivana. His name is Antonio Andrade. He was a good man. It was in a few minutes when an old nun came passed the people rushing towards the corpse. "Please call the station?" Asked Jessica from Vivana who immediately walked away a few steps to make the call. The nun also had seen her way through to the corpse trying to touch the dead man when when she was instantly stopped by Jessica.

But then, she took in a deep breath, as she faced Sage with renewed confidence. “Excuse me, but who are you? And what do you mean you 'spent a night with Shawn'?” Her voice was oddly calm and calculative, but laced with an unmistakable tone of anger and confusion. Shawn knew Serenity all too well. The priest who'd been quiet all this while, finally spoke up. "Young woman, this is a wedding. There's no need for this drama." The priest tried to sound diplomatic. However, Sage scoffed In response.

Alessio's POV The bells of St. Patrick's echoed across Manhattan. I stood at the altar, looking out at a church full of capos. Their eyes were cold. Like they were watching a business deal go down. This was a deal. The last one. "Mr. Alessio Santoro," the priest droned on, flipping through the Bible, "do you take Aurelia Rossi to be your wife—" I nodded like a machine. "I do." Two words. Light as a feather.

the priest asked her name while also replying to her greeting. And hearing that, Yelan immediately pretended to cough while saying in a subtle voice, "Mrs." "Oh, Mrs...?" "My name is Harrie Gold. Nice to meet you.” Harriet held out her hand for a handshake, and the priest before her returned it. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Gold. My name is Derek. I am the priest who runs this church,” explained the young man with short brown hair. Then, Harriet and the priest started small talk and some pleasantries. Harriet explained that she and her husband had just moved two weeks ago to the other side of town, and she wanted to register as one of the worshippers in this church.

Pierre's right hand twitches at his side, his fingers flexing against his thigh like he is holding back the urge to strike me right here in the house of God! The priest’s voice trembles slightly as he turns his eyes to me. "Barbara Adams, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?" The silence that follows is suffocating... The priest waits... Pierre waits until his breath turns heavy and irritated and I can feel everyone's stares on me.

"Buy me fresh tomatoes, not the bruised ones you bought the last time, make sure to be back before noon." Sienna pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and said nothing because she didn't trust what would come out. Her skin was still warm. She could still feel the exact weight of his hand, the specific pressure of it, and she was losing her mind. She had already lost it. Normal people did not dream about a priest like that and wake up sweating and furious that their mother interrupted it. He's a priest, she told herself. He wears a collar and blesses foreheads and you need to get it together.

She used it, she sqweezed it and he looked at her in a serious manner. She was seeing he's years of self torture. She watched him swallow, saw his Adams apple bob. His eyes saying that philbert moorman is only a mistake just as Jenna is wife is. Dr montoya had been 19 and they had both attendended the catholic grammar school in durban, and how they'd lived in different dorms. She was hearing father Bernard's voice. "a priest is someone who's decided to leave the worlds order for a more spiritual life. " And now they were having that spiritual conversation beyond words.

The boy talked to no one and kicked the sand in the clearing riddled with practice dummies worn out from use. "Sethlzaar Vi Sorlan." The voice startled Sethlzaar. He turned to find a priest standing behind him. He had not heard the man approach and found his presence perturbing. He held his composure regardless, unwilling to fault his stand. The man was elderly, almost as much as the Monsignor. His head was shaven, and not a strand of hair stained even his jaw. His eyes, a simple brown not very common within the realm, spoke of the experience that came with age. Yet it paled in comparison to Valerik's. It was an observation he was beginning to wonder would be present in all the priests.