Camille and the Preacher Man
The moon, riding high in the sky that night, cast a silvery light over the small town. In a brick bungalow at the top of a hill, moonlight shone through the bedroom windows, revealing a man on his knees beside the bed. Resting his elbows on the bed, he clasped his hands tightly. Reverend Paul Trent’s light brown hair was wavy, long on top and trimmed close around the sides. His face, neither handsome nor homely, was that of an everyday man. Only in his eyes could one see the fire and spirit...