The first paragraph:
Emma Jane ignored the perspiration on her brow as she looked up at the make-shift pulpit with a well worn bible opened to some scripture about repenting. The man standing behind it was tall. His thin, wispy hair fell greasy around his face. The dark shadows that clung below his blue, washed-out eyes seemed as ominous as the very pits of hell. Even though his black suit hung loosely on him the armpits as well as the back was wet from the heavy August heat. He pointed his skinny white finger out accusingly to the few that sat under the tent. His voice was loud and promising as he went about his fire and brimstone sermon. Somehow, Emma was soothed by knowing the preacher was just as hot as everyone else.
*rigorous critique wanted