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Is there anyone that have Sider ChatGPT Pro for sale? I have used some other ChatGPT but they have left me dissatisfied. From the write-ups I have read about this, I want to give it a try too. Give me a shout at ajibola4olutisr@gmail.com if you are a retailer.

Good Morning,
I just published the first of my trilogy titled ‘The End Time Chronicles: Lucifer Agenda’ to commemorate my 70th birthday anniversary. Although all writers profess to have written a masterpiece whenever a book is written, but this book is the best I have written so far. I am desirous of turning the book to into a movie script.
Below is the summary of the book.

An evil council convened in the shadowed halls of hell—an assembly of fallen angels, each harboring a hateful grudge against the divine. Their goal? To undo the legacy of the Apostles, to tarnish the sacred message that had ignited hearts on the day of Pentecost.

Lucifer, the Morning Star, presided over this infernal conclave. His eyes, once ablaze with celestial light, now smoldered with malice. He listened as his dark council whispered their insidious counsel: “Send one of us,” they urged, “to infiltrate the mortal realm. Let them twist the Gospel, sow discord, and lead humanity astray.”

And so, Demondenin, the enforcer, stepped forward—a creature of shadows and cunning. His eyes gleamed with ambition, for he coveted a seat at the inner temple of the twelve. Lucifer bestowed upon him a human vessel, and Demondenin descended to Earth, veiled in the flesh.
His mission? To pervert the Christian message. To introduce a counterfeit faith that would lure souls away from the true path. Demondenin, now Prophet Elijah, took the pulpit. His sermons dripped with honeyed deceit, and the faithful flocked to hear him at the New Dawn Tabernacle.

But the kingdom of heaven was not idle. It anticipated Lucifer’s gambit. From the celestial ranks emerged a deliverer—an angelic force sworn to counter the infernal plot. This celestial agent, called compassion, descended to the same African soil where ancient spirits clashed.
Nigeria, a nation steeped in mysticism, became the battleground.

Note: “Lucifer’s Agenda” is a supernatural thriller that weaves celestial intrigue, deception, and redemption. Brace yourself for a journey that transcends realms and challenges the boundaries of faith.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CXPN9495

I just published the first of my trilogy on Amazon Kindle. This is the link to the book.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CXPN9495/ref=sr_1_1?crid=LFJVYWW43N4M&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.FsnqvPo6Zn8XJyZGSeuDMQ.WZEfMRo2_uEMwdqVksBseCApLDiSIE7TZlmVChs8jdY&dib_tag=se&keywords=End+TiME+CHRONICLES%3A+LUCIFER+AGENDA&qid=1710168067&sprefix=end+time+chronicles+lucifer+agenda%2Caps%2C367&sr=8-1

This is an excerpt from my just-completed novel "End Time Chronicles 1: Lucifer's Covenant" (unedited). I would have loved to post a chapter but Nairaland says it is too large. I would like an unbiased critique of the book. I would also like to be connected to a film producer who can turn it into a script before I publish it online.


One day, he received a letter inviting him to sister Grace’s room outside the campus.
“This letter is either the work of a mischief maker or Grace is up to something,” His friends told him.
Grace epitomized the real essence of a born-again. She radiated beauty, a very beautiful girl who could beat any girl in any beauty pageant in her casual dress if she decided to contest.

She has the kind of natural beauty that would make Agbani Darego look like a village girl. She tried to hide her beauty under unattractive dresses but only succeeded in making herself look more desirable. She would blush at the admiring looks of the opposite sex. Whenever she felt proud of her body, she would kneel and pray for forgiveness.
Though all men desired her, they regarded her as a no-go area that they referred to as Miss Ice because of her cold attitude towards the opposite sex.

“You are embarking on a mission impossible,” John’s colleagues told him when he disclosed his interest in her. He refused to listen. It was either her or nobody.

During their meetings, John would hold her hand; she would not acknowledge his presence. He would look into her eyes and put on his most innocent and sorrowful look. “Janet, please, I am madly in love with you. It is you or nobody for me. Please be my girl.”
“If I agree to what you want, we will both end up in hell. You are not in love with me but with my body. Why can’t we be friends, John? I love you like a brother but nothing more.” She would look sad, “Curse on this body of mine. Why do all the people I like always have to lust after my body?”

“I am not lusting after your body. I am in love with you. I will love you till the end of time whether you love me or not.”
Jane would withdraw her hand gently from his and leave him standing until she faded out of sight. He continued to chase after her for about two years. He became the laughingstock of his friends, but John wanted her, and no matter how long it took, he would do so.
John wore only the latest and most expensive dresses and shoes. He got his first car when he was still a Jambite – a first-year undergraduate, which made him a hot favourite among the campus girls. He gave up all the other girls even when he had yet to speak with Jane.
He would follow her all over the campus. It never bothered him that she did not treat his desire for her seriously.

By the time John rang the bell of the flat where Grace lives, he had convinced himself that the girl had finally known he was the genuine article, different from all the other guys on the campus who were after her for one thing only.
An equally beautiful girl, whom he had never seen before but who had a striking resemblance to Grace, opened the door.
“Welcome to our humble home, Mr. John. My name is Mary Jones, but please do call me Mary,” She beckoned him in and led him to a tastefully furnished sitting room.

Different pictures of Grace and Mary adorned the walls. A single picture of Jesus Christ with the inscription ‘I knock on your door if let me in’ sat on the 45” colour television. John took his seat on one of the cushion chairs.
“I am happy to meet your acquaintance, Mary. You already know my name, but it is not Mr. John but just John,” He gave her one of his winning smiles.
She smiled back. Good Lord, beauty runs in their family. The darkness on her face must have been waiting for that smile to dispel it. Even her sister does not wear that kind of smile. He gave her a questioning look when he noticed her sister’s absence.

“My sister went to the next flat. She will soon be back.” She said, answering his unspoken question. She disappeared into a room only to reappear with a bottle of wine and two cups. She poured for both of them without asking and handed him his own. It was his favourite wine. She drank her own in one gulp. He took a sip and placed the cup on the small table beside the cushion chair.

“Where would you spend your eternity, John?” she asked in a low voice.
The question caught John off guard.
“Who? Me? Heaven of cause, where else?” John took another sip from his cup.
“Are you sure of that?”
“Yes, I am sure. Am I not a Christian who tries to keep all the commandments?”
“You try to keep the commandments. That is not enough,”
“What do you mean not enough?” John asked, standing up. He had better get the hell out of the place if this was why they invited him.
The girl poured herself another wine, looked at his cup that was still full and stood up.
“John 3:3 said that no man shall see the kingdom of God except he is born again. Are you born again, John?” The girl removed a well-worn bible from a drawer and flipped through it, looking for a passage.
“I am not sure what born-again entails. So I don’t know if I am born again or not.”
“You are not,” Mary said, her eyes clouded, “there are no two ways to it. If you are born-again, you will know. Do you want to give your life to Christ today and accept him as your personal Lord and Saviour?”
Since John would not want to offend her, he said he would like to do so. The girl opened her bible and started to preach. He listened to her voice without paying attention to the message.
“Look back at your life. Ask yourself, ‘Have I been living the kind of life Jesus commanded us to live?’.”

John's past flashed before him like on a movie screen. He bursts into tears without knowing why and asks Jesus to forgive him. He cried and cried. John became a new creature from that day, and all his old ways disappeared.

He and Grace became inseparable. His life took on new meaning. John would whistle a Christian tune wherever he went on the campus. People who pass him by would smile at him. He greeted everybody, even a child. John woke up every day with a song. When one is in love, he sees the world not through a rose glass, but the world becomes the roses. He will not see the imperfection that is the world but the beauty in it.
Grace became the centre of John’s world. “God, I thank you for letting me know the joy that comes from being in love and being in Christ.” John would pray to God whenever he woke up in the morning. His academic scores increased. He looked healthier. He radiated happiness. He was on top of the world, and nothing could go wrong.

The only blot on John’s white garment was Grace’s non-committal attitude to their future. She would place her finger on his lip, “Please don’t say you will love me till eternity. Let us savour the time we have now. Tomorrow is another matter. If God says our love is going to be for eternity, so be it.” She would weep, covering her face with her hands, which always left him confused. He should have known something was not right, but he preoccupied himself too much with his happiness to notice.

One day, Grace fell sick. He drove like a madman to the hospital amid swearing and cursing by other drivers on the road. John shoved the nurse who showed him the room where they admitted Grace into the room. He heaved a sigh of relief when he met Grace playing a game of Ludo with one other patient on her bed. He rushed into the room, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her for a long time, leaving both of them breathless. The other patient smiled and left Grace’s bed for her own.

They were laughing together when the doctor entered. “Who are you,” she asked John in the special voice only doctors could cultivate.
John got up from the bed and extended his hand to the doctor, who did not acknowledge it. “Who are you?” she repeated.
“Doctor, this is John whom I have been telling you about,” Grace answered, smiling at John.
The doctor’s face lost its hardness. “Oh, so you are John. I have heard a lot about you. In fact, it is about you all the time. I am sorry for my sternness. Grace needs a lot of rest, but you can see her any time,” The doctor took John’s still-extended hand, “I am happy to meet your acquaintance at last. Grace, I would like to talk to Mr. John in my office,” She beckoned John to follow her to her office. What the doctor told John shattered his happy world.

“Your fiancée is dying,” she said as soon he sat down.
John staggered from his chair. His vision doubled. He doubled in his chair like a man who just received a kick in the stomach. He crashed face down on the floor. The doctor rushed to support him. She led him gently back to his chair.
Grace. His Grace was dying of leukaemia. She only had about a month or less to live.

How could Grace have leukaemia without knowing it? She knew about the disease ravaging her. Why, then, did Jane keep it to herself? “She would not die,” John vowed. “God would not let somebody as devoted as Grace die without showing through her that He can do all things. What is leukaemia before the Almighty?”
The doctor smiled.” My young man,” the doctor said with an air of somebody addressing a child, “I am a devoted Christian. I believe in miracles. I also believe in letting the will of God prevail. He determines who lives and who dies. Moreover, it is those the Lord loves most that die young.”

“It is also in the bible that with God, all things are possible. I believe Grace will not die of leukaemia. The God we both serve is a miracle-working God who can do all things,” John answered with conviction.
Since it was useless to argue with John in the face of such fanatical conviction, the doctor held her peace. It would take a great miracle for Grace to live to see the following month. She was a Christian, but the doctor knew a hopeless case whenever she saw one.

Grace died before the month ended. John's world collapsed. How could God be so cruel to take the only thing he ever wanted from him? The faith John held dear deserted him. He became inconsolable. He grieved so much his friends became worried. John had never been a one-woman man. His philosophy had always been, ‘use them and dump them.’ His friends, who never experienced true love, could not reconcile the old John with the new one going to pieces over a dead woman.
“There are still one thousand and one girls out there more beautiful than Grace.” His friends told him, “If you die because of one girl, what becomes of the other thousand out there?”

The full reality of Grace’s death did not sink in until the day of her burial. Grace was popular. The whole university community turned out for the burial. No single dried eye remained in the crowd.

The pastor of the Pentecostal church where Grace was a member of the Prayer Warrior eulogized the virtues of Grace when she was alive. “Grace was the epitome of a true Christian. She never let her beauty go into her head. Even when she knew about the disease that eventually killed her, she never let it diminish her faith in the Almighty. There is a lot we should learn from her life. People, except her immediate family, did not know the pain she was going through. She always put God first in all things. Our relationship with our maker determines our eternity. Grace represents how a true Christian should live his life. She never let the disease shake her faith in her maker.”

Did God care about humans in one way or another? John thought. If He does, He will not leave people like Skido (Capone of the campus's most notorious cult), who does not believe in Him, and take someone like Grace, who spends most of her life spreading the word of God on the campus. The word of Ecclesiastics came to John as they closed the lid on the coffin. “Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity” Eccl. 1:2.

They are closing the coffin. John thought in panic. I should not let this happen. If they do, I may never see Grace again. It will be a confirmation that I will never hear that melodious voice waking me up in the morning with songs of praise whenever she comes to wake me up for morning devotion.

John cried out in a loud voice. The preacher stopped what he was saying mid-sentence. Everybody turned to John, who was standing outside the circle of the people surrounding Grace’s coffin. John, oblivious of the scene he created, staggered forward.
Apart from Mary, very few members of Grace’s family knew John. Those who saw him on a few occasions with Grace could not define the relationship that existed between them. Grace was not the type of girl who consorts with men for romantic relationships.

John sauntered to the front of the crowd. Everybody parted ways for him, waiting and watching. Grace looked radiant in a beautiful white dress. She looked so peaceful and alive, but alas, she was not. Even in death, the dimple and the perpetual smile that lighted her face from the moment they became friends were still there. He made a difference in her life, for which he was grateful. He looked at her and felt a lump in his throat.
Tears flew freely in his eyes. They would then be together forever. He recited a dirge that left everybody shedding tears.


Grace, can this be it?
Can this be the endless joy?
The laughter that never ceases
The bliss that never ends?
Grace, Why, Grace, why?
Why did the melody die?
Why did the sound of music stop?
Shattered instruments littered the ground.

Grace, oh my Grace
You did not tell
Did not give an inkling
That this would be the end
How could you depart?
Without farewell or goodbye
How could you go like that?
Your smile, never to behold again.

John cast himself into the coffin on top of Jane. “Death, please take me too,” He cried out in a loud voice. The pastor came to him and lifted him from on top of Grace’s body.
“My son,” he said, holding him by the waist, his voice laden with emotion, “we all love Grace, but God loves her more. Who are we to question God in His infinite wisdom when He gives or takes away? God has a reason for everything He does. It is only to the human that the way of the Lord seems incomprehensible. If only we could look beyond our noses, we would see that everyone must fulfil God’s purpose for his life. Son, we should not question God so that we will not offend him.”
John heard the lengthy words of the pastor but failed to see the unseen benefit in the death of Grace. It was not fair for God to have taken away the only thing he ever wanted in life.
THE BOOK IS WRITTEN IN UK ENGLISH

This is the prologue to my unedited new novel "End Time Chronicles: Lucifer's Covenant Part 1"
I need a critique of the work and also a film producer to turn it into a movie script before I publish it online. There is also an excerpt from one of the chapters of the book below the prologue.

Prologue

The black apparition stood with arms akimbo and jeered at Pastor Adam - the General Overseer of the Vineyard – in a voice that sounded like a blacksmith hitting a raw iron. Brown, ugly-looking teeth protruded from a mouth wide enough to crush the head of a full-grown cow. An incandescent pointed horn in the middle of his forehead illuminated his enormous round head. Flame undulated around the horn. Two eyes as big as saucers burned with the intensity of two suns in his head. Gorilla-like hands dangled by his side, extending below the knees of two legs bent backward like two huge damaged Massai hunter's bows. Imprints of sharp hooves trailed him as the ground shook with the weight of his body. The apparition's fingernails moved with lives of their own. His huge ten-foot body towered over Pastor Adam like a giant over a dwarf.

He pointed a crooked finger at Pastor Adam. The pointed finger ignited on the point of its six-inch nail. The finger grew until it touched Pastor Adam's chest. His clothes caught fire. Fire engulfed Pastor Adam from the top of his head to the toes of his feet but did not consume him. He jumped up in panic and shook his body. Fire fell from his body and burned in a circle around him. "I am Shadrach in the Valley of Flame," He exclaimed. Pastor Adam looked at the fire around him, and his face registered his surprise.
Unmitigated hatred burned in the apparition's eyes. "Who are you?" The apparition's voice rumbled like a river rushing down a mountain. "I am the son of the Most High. Who are you, too?"
The apparition looked at Pastor Adam with renewed interest." Oh, I see. You are one of those meddlesome idiots," the apparition sneered, "I will teach you a lesson today to mind your own business." He pointed his middle finger at Pastor Adams. He rotated the finger anticlockwise in a slow motion.
Pastor Adams rose six feet above the ground against his will. His heart contracted. Something heavy pressed on it. The resultant pain altered his vision. He must do something fast or die. He willed himself to be strong. Nothing happened.
The apparition burst into an eerie laughter. "Not strong enough, you know. You don't have the fire. You need more than the blood of Jesus to stop me."

How did the apparition know he would pray the blood of Jesus? He would call his bluff. He must remain calm. His vision blurred. The shape of the apparition began to go out of his focus. "Dear God, do not let me die in the hand of this ungodly creature. How could I? I must not die but live to declare the glory of my father. I am a son of the Most High. This unholy creature before me is of the devil," Pastor Adams prayed. Nothing happened.

Pastor Adams cried out in a loud voice, "In the Naaaaame of Jesus, I command you, agent of the devil, before me, fall down and die.” "Fall down and die." The apparition chuckled, "So you believe those prayers you teach your members would work on me." He threw his head backward, raised his hands above his head, and shouted, "I can never die. I am immortal. I am Demondenim, the enforcer. Prepare to meet your maker."

The creature snapped his fingers twice. Pastor Adams began to spin around in the air like a piece of paper in the middle of a whirlwind. Faster and faster until the entire tree around shook. Dry leaves and dust filled the sky. Pastor Adams could not see beyond his nose.
The Pastor was no match for the one who called himself Demondenim. If only he had continued fasting until the seventh day, he would have been ready for Demondenim. "Unto your hand, I commit my soul, Pastor Adam murmured a prayer. Pastor Adam no longer cared if he lived or died. Lucifer has won. "He is awake," a strange voice said.
Pastor Adam opened his eyes. People stood around him in a semi-circle. He must be in heaven. Angels! They all must be Angels! "Pastor Adam, what happened?" Evangelist Emmanuel shook Pastor Adam. He peered into his eyes. Pastor Adam inhaled the smell of fresh peppermint. Angles cannot smell of peppermint.
A violent cough seized Pastor Adam. He coughed until watery tears ran in his eyes. Dry leaves and dust filled his lungs. "I had a terrible dream in which… "That was no dream, Pastor, "Evangelist Esther interrupted, "we were in the middle of a prayer point you raised when suddenly, you started to float in the air! We held you down to prevent you from flying away."
“Demondenim,” Pastor Adam murmured.

"Who is he?” Evangelist Emmanuel asked. "We wondered what kind of name you wrote on the wall over there." He pointed to the opposite wall inside the church.
Pastor Adam stood up and fell back on the floor with a loud thud. The elders lifted him. Sweat covered all of them. He followed the direction of Emmanuel's pointed finger. Written in bold letters on the wall in his handwriting, 'Demondenim is here.'
"A great calamity is about to occur in this country and worldwide. We need intense prayer to survive the onslaught of the devil. His most trusted agent is here. His name is Demondenim, the enforcer."
"Pastor, is he the Antichrist?" One of the elders asked.
"I don't think he is the antichrist, but he is something equally terrible."
"Is he in Nigeria right now?"
"Yes, he is right here now."
"How do we recognize him?"
"You cannot because he will be just like you and me. He will deceive many and lead them away from the path of salvation. He will seduce many with his tongue. He may be a politician, a union leader, or a pastor."
Evangelist Emmanuel's voice dropped, "God help us all," He prayed.

This is the prologue to my unedited new novel "End Time Chronicles: Lucifer's Covenant Part 1"
I need a critique of the work and also a film producer to turn it into a movie script before I publish it online.

Prologue

The black apparition stood with arms akimbo and jeered at Pastor Adam - the General Overseer of the Vineyard – in a voice that sounded like a blacksmith hitting a raw iron. Brown, ugly-looking teeth protruded from a mouth wide enough to crush the head of a full-grown cow. An incandescent pointed horn in the middle of his forehead illuminated his enormous round head. Flame undulated around the horn. Two eyes as big as saucers burned with the intensity of two suns in his head. Gorilla-like hands dangled by his side, extending below the knees of two legs bent backward like two huge damaged Massai hunter's bows. Imprints of sharp hooves trailed him as the ground shook with the weight of his body. The apparition's fingernails moved with lives of their own. His huge ten-foot body towered over Pastor Adam like a giant over a dwarf.

He pointed a crooked finger at Pastor Adam. The pointed finger ignited on the point of its six-inch nail. The finger grew until it touched Pastor Adam's chest. His clothes caught fire. Fire engulfed Pastor Adam from the top of his head to the toes of his feet but did not consume him. He jumped up in panic and shook his body. Fire fell from his body and burned in a circle around him. "I am Shadrach in the Valley of Flame," He exclaimed. Pastor Adam looked at the fire around him, and his face registered his surprise.
Unmitigated hatred burned in the apparition's eyes. "Who are you?" The apparition's voice rumbled like a river rushing down a mountain. "I am the son of the Most High. Who are you, too?"
The apparition looked at Pastor Adam with renewed interest." Oh, I see. You are one of those meddlesome idiots," the apparition sneered, "I will teach you a lesson today to mind your own business." He pointed his middle finger at Pastor Adams. He rotated the finger anticlockwise in a slow motion.
Pastor Adams rose six feet above the ground against his will. His heart contracted. Something heavy pressed on it. The resultant pain altered his vision. He must do something fast or die. He willed himself to be strong. Nothing happened.
The apparition burst into an eerie laughter. "Not strong enough, you know. You don't have the fire. You need more than the blood of Jesus to stop me."

How did the apparition know he would pray the blood of Jesus? He would call his bluff. He must remain calm. His vision blurred. The shape of the apparition began to go out of his focus. "Dear God, do not let me die in the hand of this ungodly creature. How could I? I must not die but live to declare the glory of my father. I am a son of the Most High. This unholy creature before me is of the devil," Pastor Adams prayed. Nothing happened.

Pastor Adams cried out in a loud voice, "In the Naaaaame of Jesus, I command you, agent of the devil, before me, fall down and die.” "Fall down and die." The apparition chuckled, "So you believe those prayers you teach your members would work on me." He threw his head backward, raised his hands above his head, and shouted, "I can never die. I am immortal. I am Demondenim, the enforcer. Prepare to meet your maker."

The creature snapped his fingers twice. Pastor Adams began to spin around in the air like a piece of paper in the middle of a whirlwind. Faster and faster until the entire tree around shook. Dry leaves and dust filled the sky. Pastor Adams could not see beyond his nose.
The Pastor was no match for the one who called himself Demondenim. If only he had continued fasting until the seventh day, he would have been ready for Demondenim. "Unto your hand, I commit my soul, Pastor Adam murmured a prayer. Pastor Adam no longer cared if he lived or died. Lucifer has won. "He is awake," a strange voice said.
Pastor Adam opened his eyes. People stood around him in a semi-circle. He must be in heaven. Angels! They all must be Angels! "Pastor Adam, what happened?" Evangelist Emmanuel shook Pastor Adam. He peered into his eyes. Pastor Adam inhaled the smell of fresh peppermint. Angles cannot smell of peppermint.
A violent cough seized Pastor Adam. He coughed until watery tears ran in his eyes. Dry leaves and dust filled his lungs. "I had a terrible dream in which… "That was no dream, Pastor, "Evangelist Esther interrupted, "we were in the middle of a prayer point you raised when suddenly, you started to float in the air! We held you down to prevent you from flying away."
“Demondenim,” Pastor Adam murmured.

"Who is he?” Evangelist Emmanuel asked. "We wondered what kind of name you wrote on the wall over there." He pointed to the opposite wall inside the church.
Pastor Adam stood up and fell back on the floor with a loud thud. The elders lifted him. Sweat covered all of them. He followed the direction of Emmanuel's pointed finger. Written in bold letters on the wall in his handwriting, 'Demondenim is here.'
"A great calamity is about to occur in this country and worldwide. We need intense prayer to survive the onslaught of the devil. His most trusted agent is here. His name is Demondenim, the enforcer."
"Pastor, is he the Antichrist?" One of the elders asked.
"I don't think he is the antichrist, but he is something equally terrible."
"Is he in Nigeria right now?"
"Yes, he is right here now."
"How do we recognize him?"
"You cannot because he will be just like you and me. He will deceive many and lead them away from the path of salvation. He will seduce many with his tongue. He may be a politician, a union leader, or a pastor."
Evangelist Emmanuel's voice dropped, "God help us all," He prayed.