Dark Flight is releasing on July 11th (it is available for pre-order today). I’m sharing the first chapter.
Read the first scene here: http://tasteofcyn.com/2017/06/19/first-scene-from-dark-flight/
This is the third scene.
She reversed the thrusters on the right side. That slowed the spin. It didn’t stop the ship’s descent. It plowed into the ground nose first, the boom temporarily deafening Rhea.
She flew forward. The harness caught her before she hit the console, the straps digging into her shoulders and stomach. The breath whooshed out of her body.
Beams crashed to the floor around her, narrowly missing her chair. Viewscreens shattered. Pain, sharp and intense, jabbed her left shoulder, causing stars to explode in her skull and the bridge to spin merrily around her.
Severed circuits popped and hissed. The ship stopped moving.
Rhea sagged, her back touching the chair, and agony coursed through her, causing her vision to gray out. She straightened once more, reached behind her, touched metal. Something the size of her hand stuck out of her body.
The shard was foreign and frightening and she wanted to remove it. Now. But her father always told her panic resulted in poor decisions. She tried to wiggle the fingers of her left hand.
They didn’t move. Her arm was useless. The shrapnel must have sliced deep, probably had severed veins. She couldn’t treat the area, could barely reach it. If she yanked the metal out of her shoulder, she’d bleed to death.
It had to stay where it was. Using her right hand only, Rhea unfastened the harness, pushed herself to her feet. She swayed, lightheaded, and looked around her.
Guns. She’d need guns. There was always one in the front pocket of her flight suit. Rhea never went anywhere unarmed. But she needed more.
Opening the compartment under the console, she extracted a similar gun plus one long gun, slipped the smaller weapon into her pocket and slung the larger one over her right shoulder. Her vision blurred, the pain excruciating.
She staggered across the bridge, avoiding the live circuits hanging from the ceiling. The wires snapped and crackled with energy, lighting the darkened space.
The ceiling had collapsed over the doorway. The floor had buckled. The combination left only a small opening to exit through.
Rhea eyed it. The hole was tiny but so was she. She might be able to fit through it and there really was no other choice. It was the only way off the bridge.
She crawled up the wreckage, moving as quickly as possible. A downed ship on a supply-challenged planet would attract scavengers. And her sister was alone, would be scared. It was Rhea’s responsibility to protect her.
Her right knee brushed against debris, its edges extremely sharp, and she sucked in her breath, more pain added to her misery. Warmth dripped down her shin.
The panel she was balancing on shifted, tilting out of the door. She slid down the piece of metal, was airborne for a heartbeat. Guns fired. Projectiles zinged past her.
She landed with a plop on the sand and rolled under the ship, almost passing out as the shrapnel in her shoulder was pushed deeper into her body. Breathing heavily, she grabbed the long gun with her one functioning hand.
The air was hot, dry, smelled of mechanical lubricant and projectile residue. Debris from the ship blocked her from sight, providing a shield to hide behind.
Judging by the directions projectiles were being fired from, there were four, five, maybe more attackers. She was injured, was only one being, had use of only one hand.
But she was an excellent shot. Her mother had called her a natural. Rhea had practiced, improving her skill, until there had been no one in their settlement who could match her.
That skill hadn’t saved her parents. When the Humanoid Alliance arrived at their domicile, Rhea faced a choice. She could rush her sister to safety or stay with her parents, protect them if needed.
She had chosen Paloma, always Paloma, as her parents had always chosen the Rebel cause over their offspring, going away on missions as soon as Rhea was able to care for her sister, not thinking how their double life affected the young females, how it put them at risk.
Rhea had hidden Paloma in a nearby cave and returned to the domicile in time to see her father and mother executed, shot in the heads in front of their home. Marowit, the male who had betrayed her, watched, silent, no expression on his handsome face.
When it was done, when her parents’ bodies were lifeless and still on the stone pathway, puddles of blood pooling around them, the Humanoid Alliance officer in charge had turned to Marowit and smiled, told him his loyalty would be rewarded.
Marowit made a quip about how fucking the plain sister was the ultimate sacrifice and the warriors had laughed, laughed as her mother and father lay dead on the pathway before them.
Rhea had burned with anger, wanted to put projectiles in both of them and in herself for being so foolish, for believing she’d ever be anyone’s priority. She had been a cover for her parents and a mission for Marowit. That’s all she’d been.
But shooting the male would have brought her location to the Humanoid Alliance’s attention. They would have caught her and executed her. That would have left her innocent, trusting sister alone in the cold, unforgiving universe. Paloma wouldn’t have lasted long.
As she wouldn’t last long on Carinae E alone. Rhea was Paloma’s best option for survival and she wouldn’t fail her. She’d put her sister first, before her own life, bring her to safety.
To do that, she had to clear the space around the ship.
She poked the muzzle out of her hiding spot, balancing the weapon on her shoulder. Shots rang out. She listened, watched the angle of the projectiles. The enemy weren’t very intelligent, shooting again and again from the exact same spot.
Rhea tapped the trigger several times in rapid succession, altering her aim slightly with each shot.
No more projectiles originated from that location.
She’d killed someone. Guilt gnawed at her. Rhea ignored it. The beings, like her parents, had known the risks. They were choosing to attack her, to put themselves in danger.
And it was either them or Paloma. Her sister’s lifespan depended on Rhea staying alive.
She selected another target, pinpointed his or her location, aimed her long gun and fired.
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Dark Flight
His mission. His challenge. His forever.
Orol, the Refuge’s second-in-command, has been given what he believes is a simple mission—escort two human females to the settlement. The winged warrior arrives at the meeting site to find one of the females missing and the other aiming a gun at his head. To rescue the first, he must capture the second. Once he has Rhea in his talons, however, he realizes he never wants to let her go.
Her enemy. Her captor. Her everything.
Rhea doesn’t trust anyone. She certainly doesn’t follow commands issued by a gorgeous flying male with glittering eyes, a beautiful face, and a seductive touch. Orol is dominant, edged with darkness, and determined to find her sister. Rhea will do anything to prevent that, even if it means playing sensual games of submission with her powerful enemy, seducing him into forgetting everything except her.
Dark Flight is a STAND-ALONE SciFi Romance set in a gritty, dark world.
You Can Pre-order Now:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Dark-Flight-Refuge-Book-2-ebook/dp/B07124941B/
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dark-Flight-Refuge-Book-2-ebook/dp/B07124941B/
Apple/iBooks/iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dark-flight/id1242494643
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dark-flight-cynthia-sax/1126484675
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/dark-flight-3
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/727350
