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OK - here we go. This week we have an Excerpt Extravaganza including a synopsis from this awesome father and son team of the writing world!
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Please Welcome. . .
Aaron and Allan Reini
Flight of the Angels
by Allan and Aaron Reini
by Allan and Aaron Reini
Far from Earth, far from home, Captain Dex D'Felco leads the “Angels,” a renegade Navy fighter squadron on the run from their own government. Their crime? Clinging to their faith in a dystopian society that has outlawed all forms of religious expression.
Meanwhile, Darik Mason, an ambitious junior executive, uncovers a dark conspiracy within his own corporation. His search for the truth sets him on a collision course with the Angels, pitting both sides in an epic battle with the fate of thousands of Believers hanging in the balance.
In this first book in their Christian sci-fi series Flight of the Angels, co-authors Allan and Aaron Reini introduce a dark, gritty universe where evil men plot destruction while imperfect heroes sacrifice everything to defend the defenseless.
In this excerpt, a very nervous Darik Mason, under pressure to account for multiple and mysterious failures of his company’s popular and versatile M-2 units, has been called into the office of his boss—the charismatic but frightening Kirrone Jenkins.
Excerpt: Flight of the Angels, by Allan and Aaron Reini
Darik’s eyes paused on a large sculpture a few feet to the right of Jenkins’s desk. It was a bizarre study, sculpted from a metal he couldn’t identify. Darik was transfixed. The sculpture had an unmistakably violent feel to it. Yet there was something more, something almost sensual in its brutality.
“It’s Travarian.” Jenkins’s voice shook Darik from his reverie. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, sir,” Darik responded automatically, although he wasn’t actually sure that he did like it that much.
“It came from ruins on Travarus.” The JenKore CEO gazed fondly at the sculpture. “Most of the other artifacts were deteriorated, but this one remained in almost perfect condition. The arch-techs were able to piece together enough glyphs from the surrounding walls to speculate that it was a centerpiece to the temple.”
For the first time since he entered the office Darik met the eyes of his employer. They were gleaming. “The glyphs indicated it was an object intended to receive sacrifice.”
Darik waited for Jenkins to move on to the subject at hand. It did not take him long.
“You have been involved in production of our mining M-2s for how long, Mr. Mason?”
“Two years, sir.”
“And your area of expertise is?”
Darik found himself wishing they would go back to talking about the bizarre artifact, which was still managing to captivate an uncomfortable amount of his attention.
“I am in charge of fail-safe protocols, sir.”
“And how many M-2s have suffered catastrophic failure under your watch, Mr. Mason?”
Darik wanted to scream. He wanted to grab Jenkins by his expensive suit coat, pull him to within inches, and shout into that lean, placid face that he already knew how many units they had lost. He wanted to explain through gritted teeth that if Jenkins really wanted progress on the security measures, they would need to provide him with better information than the garbage reports he was getting from the field. More than anything, and quite disturbingly, Darik wanted passionately to grab Jenkins and impale him on one of the many sharp points protruding from the “Travarian” idol.
Instead, he simply answered, “Twenty-three, sir.”
“Twenty-three units,” Jenkins repeated slowly. “Twenty-three supposedly indestructible machines, destroyed. The potential for profit, never to be recovered…”
Darik didn’t intentionally tune Jenkins out, but he found it increasingly difficult to stay focused. As words ran together, Darik became less aware of what his employer was saying, and more aware of an almost audible vibration coming from the bizarre sculpture.
The effect was disconcertingly hypnotic. Darik’s field of vision narrowed until he could see only the idol in front of him. It dominated his thoughts, his vision, his attention. The object’s protrusions seemed to move, blending with one another and stretching out toward him before receding again. All the while, the sounds increased in Darik’s head, tunneling, unbidden, into his mind, into his soul. He felt his own will begin to weaken before the force of the strange object.
He began to discern additional sounds. Low and guttural, they stayed just beneath the surface of the idol’s weird emanations. The sounds, at first, defied description, but then it occurred to Darik that they sounded almost like...voices. He could not make out their words—only that they seemed to call to him, producing both a feeling of dread, and desire.
As gradually as the effect had manifested itself, the illusion of motion began to subside. The low vibration faded, and the multiple, discordant voices congealed steadily into one. It was Jenkins, continuing on as though nothing odd had occurred.
“…so it would seem you have a choice to make, Mr. Mason. Do you feel you have a future here at JenKore?”
Still feeling unsteady, Darik heard himself reply, “Yes, sir.”
“Then it is well past the time you should be proving it.” Jenkins’s pale eyes narrowed even further. “You are being paid to keep our M-2s in the field operational and out of danger. Do whatever it takes, but hear me—the next unit you lose will be your last.”
Jenkins did not wait for a reply. Allowing his gaze to settle once more on the Travarian idol he added quietly, “You’re dismissed.”
~ ~ ~
Learn more at www.flightoftheangels.com The official repository of all things “Angels.” You’ll find S/A-81 Hornet Info, The History of the 714th, Glossary of Terms, and more!!!
You can purchase the Paperback or Kindle version from Amazon at http://bit.ly/UHMnFU
“Like” us on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/FlightOfTheAngels
Follow Flight of the Angels on Twitter @pellacolony https://twitter.com/PellaColony
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